license to kill

The past few days, I have been under a dignified cause of defending our house against the infiltration of the stupid, arrogant, world-domineering ants. Ugh, it’s serious; they’re getting on my nerves rather exceptionally. Heavens, they’re everywhere! I wouldn’t have minded it too much if only they had opted to keep their lame a$$es within the walls of the house, but no, the pompous beasts thought it even grandiose to extend their dominion over our FOOD –the food we eat – the food which I fight tooth and nail just to keep clean – the very same ones which these little brutes just stamped on sloppily. Were they nuts? Did they think that my food were some kind of a prairie they could stroll on anytime? The hell. $%^&*($#@

Seriously, I have never felt more murderous in my entire life than I do right now.
I’m currently striving to device ways –creative ways by which I could give the buggers a well-deserved vindictive death. Ant sprays are off the list since they’re not brutal enough. I want the ants to have, as much as possible, a slow agonizing painful death. With ant sprays, it’s an easy swift death – that’s too generous. So nope, not an option. Nevertheless, I’m open for suggestions.

misleading

The trouble with statement shirts is that I can’t seem to stop myself from reading them. Even though it appears embarrassing to stare at one’s chest [it’s curious that the breasts’ area is perpetually the lucky/unlucky bearer of the inscriptions], my eyes will always always automatically wander to the part where the writing is. The worse thing is I’m not even attempting to be discrete about it. Most of the time, I will just stop and gawk openly to this woman’s shirt [or chest, it’s always there –the statement, I mean] and read the characters. If it’s the eyebrow-raising sort then I will impulsively move my gaze to the woman’s face and see if the statement dovetails with her…erm, appearance? state of being? look?

What, each of us is entitled to have our own brief periods of judge-y-ness and evilness =D

Like this particular incident that happened two or three weeks ago. I was inside the mrt on my way to the university when in came a lady wearing a pink shirt that says: [in all caps, bold, shining, shimmering, splendid letters] –HORNY.

HORNY

HORNY

HORNY

Uh-huh. HORNY. I wonder if she knew what that word meant. Or it’s just my naturally perverted thinking that automatically went to the gutter and assumed the green insinuation of the word. Because maybe the lady knew what “horny” was after all; perhaps to her, it’s simply the “state of having many horns”? [horns, horns, horns, horns = horny?] as opposed to what I initially thought to be the “state of being hormonal”. [hormones, hormones, hormones, hormones = horny?] Hahaha. Pragmatics.

For long minutes, I was just there explicitly gaping at her t-shirt [chest] with furrowed eyebrows and vast annoyance to the maker of the shirt, blaming whoever insipid creature he or she was for having that “majestic” idea of putting the statements at breast level. Seriously, he or she should have known that it would be exceedingly disconcerting for a girl like me to stare at another girl’s chest; not that I was perusing her boobs, [I have my own to stare at, thank you very much] it was the statement I was curious about, nothing more. Only the position was sending all the wrong signals. <_<

Ooops on a tuesday

issa: omg, I see Sir XXXX

moi: Wahhh, where?

issa: Turn to your left...left left

moi: Sino siya diyan?

issa: Yung pasakay ng taxi, yung kalbo

moi: Alin yung red yung buhok?

issa: ---


<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

LMAO.

That was a rather perfect dumbass moment. Excuse me for I was feeling a little scatterbrained and cramp-y then.

A sporadic Pentium 1 processing.
Forgive the mortal. =D

ode to jason from jason

Good-day sunlight
and the day begins
bright lights, big city
What's the worst thing that could happen?

I've got the dynamo of volition
do you hear me?
A squirrel in the tree, is he watching me?
"Well, you're magic" he said.

_____________________________________________________

NOTES:

Who needs shelter
10000 motherfuckers
Bright eyes
O. Lover

The dynamo of volition
Lucky
Only human
Song for a friend

"Kung kaya ng iba, kaya ko rin!"

(1) Pesimistikong pananaw

a. “Kung kaya ng iba, hindi ko kaya.”

b. “Kung hindi kaya ng iba, hindi ko rin kaya.”


(2) Walang kumpiyansa

a. “Kung kaya ng iba, kaya ko rin?"

b. “Walang may kaya.”


(3) Juan Tamad

a. “Sila ang may kaya, e di sila ang gumawa.”

b. “Wala akong sinasabing kaya ko ha.”


(4) Presko

a. “Hindi kaya ng iba, ako lang ang may kaya!”

b. “Kaya ko kahit hindi kaya ng iba.”


(5) Rich kid

a. “Kung kaya ng iba, kaya rin ni yaya!”

b. “What is ‘kaya’ anyway? Please translate.”


(6) Randy Jackson

a. “Yo, dawg, dude, man”

b. “whaddup, whaddup”


(7) Sex-crazed

a. *moans*

b. *censored*


(8) Matandang ulyanin

a. “Ha? Ano ika mo? Bakya at timba?”

b. “Mamaya mo na ako tanungin, iha, at pakihilot nga muna ireng likod ko.”


(9) Nora Aunor

a. “Walang himala kung kaya ng iba!”

b. “Walang himala kung kaya ko!”


(10) PGMA

a. “Kung hindi natin kaya, para saan pa at andiyan si George Bush, classmate.”

b. “Kung kaya ng iba, kaya ko rin!” [mangurakot]


(11) Desperate Housewives

a. "Hindi yan kaya ng 'some med school in the Philippines.'"

b. "Kung kaya ng iba, kaya rin naming magpasikat ng racial slur."


(12) Nang-aakit

a. "Hanggang diyan lang ba ang kaya mo?"

b. "Kung tatanggalin ko ba to, tatanggalin mo rin ang sa'yo?"

either way

stairs
going down
and down and
down and down
until - rock bottom


stairs going up and up
and up and up and
up and up and up
back to rock
bottom

stairs
going down
and down and
down and down
until - rock bottom

stairs going up and up
and up and up and
up and up and up
back to rock
bottom


stairs
going down
and down and
down and down
until - rock bottom

stairs going up and up
and up and up and
up and up and up
back to rock
bottom

stairs going up and up
and up and up and
up and up and up
back to rock
bottom

stairs
going down
and down and
down and down
until - rock bottom

deliriously happy

You would think that college students, juniors at that, under normal circumstances would have no business playing 'patintero' as if wild, all hell broke loose kids. College means thesis...salient time...extensive studies...demanding life. It's supposed to be the preparatory ground for one's career path, hence it is ought to be taken seriously.

But no. My friends and I begged to differ, if only for a few hours.

During those strangest, most demented hours, we were kindergartens again with no care in the world other than each of our own personal gladness. Forget about decorum, we were cheering, yelling and running down the hallways of the Faculty Center like the excessively energized little devils fresh from Pandora's box (yes, you heard it right -Faculty Center where the most professional, honorable doctorate holders and higher ups reside.)

As if that wasn't enough, we even fled out of the building straight to the gardens where we could have more space and more liberty. It was a particularly happy, sunny day; just about the perfect time to play this much-missed game of 'patintero' that we haven't gotten around to playing since high school. Ah, it was so much fun. People walking past our direction were looking, whispering, some were possibly even laughing, but at least they had the decency to let us be.








I'm in no place to deny the recklessness of our act as it was, without question, downright crazy and undeniably impetuous of us to have done such a childish play in the most improbable time and place.

But then again, this experience came along with the realization that from time to time, it is when we're at our craziest that we're likewise at our happiest.

gullible

alvin: Wala daw sa dictionaries ang word na 'gullible.'

moi: Ows?

alvin: (dead air)

moi: HAHAHAHA. Okay, gets.

surprise, surprise, surprise

Just when I have finally accepted the depressing fact that I would miss the Oblation run this year, enter my professor (BLESS HER!) who generously gave us the time to witness the thrill of the streaking =p

-----------


prof: Sino sa inyo ang hindi pa nakakapanood ng Oblation run?

class: (maraming nagtaas ng kamay -kasama ako, LIARS! tsk tsk)

prof: Ano?! Hindi pa kayo nakakapanood kahit kelan?!

class: not yet...

prof: Sige ididissmiss ko kayo ng 11:45 pero dapat bumalik kayo ng 12:15. Go ahead, manood kayo para naman may maikwento kayo sa mga apo niyo.


-----------

HAHAHAHA. RakEnRol. Didn't see that one coming. =D Astiiiig.

wth am I talking about

Wow, I can’t believe I’m back. *waves waves waves like a beauty queen* thank you, thank you, thank you.

I haven’t been posting here since the fifth anno domini. I need to invent an elaborate excuse that would justify myself for not showing up this entire time.

Let me try.

I have prepared two ready-made alibis; feel free to choose which is more convenient for ya.

If you’re a sadist and want me miserable, just imagine that I tripped on this stupid rug, hit my head on the bathroom floor, so serious that I actually had an amnesia. I had forgotten my name, my address, my school, and most importantly my blog. Thankfully, it was only meant to be temporary. Just yesterday, I got my memory back. I have finally recalled the URL of this site, hence I’m all the more ready to update again.

That’s the first excuse.

Here's the other option:

If you want the happy-goody story, sort of fairy tale-ish in nature, then, both of us, let's just imagine that I suddenly got lucky, so lucky that I was turned filthy rich in a whim, [even filthier and even richer than Paris, really] For weeks, I had lived the glitz and glamor of Hollywood (I flew there instantly, yes.) where I spent the greater part my time partying, drinking, shopping, taking drugs (hahaha!); one occasion even had me landed in prison for drunk-driving. That was until I had the biggest epiphany of my life. Somehow I realized that I wasn’t happy albeit the lavish lifestyle. Thus, I renounced the “dirty sexy money” a.k.a my out-of-nowhere-gotten wealth, as I made my decision to return home. Back to my good old noble roots –my blog being one of them.

And so, voilà –I’m here again!

Nonsense aside, Christmas break is coming so I should be around more often, I hope. Having said that, I need not to worry about inventing new excuses any time soon; God knows I’d make a terrible fiction writer.

entre nous

This week had been so emotionally taxing. One moment, I was as gay as I could be and the next thing I knew, I was all for a hissy fit. I was being unreasonable and selfish and a horror, as always, only this time it was an infinity-fold more than usual. Simply put, my genetically-made-up-bitchiness-side was in full force. Ill-fated friends and family members were normally the receiving end of it; for that, I have been feeling like a guilty criminal walking on eggshells around them, but, at the same time, detesting myself for even feeling that way, because at times like this… they simply deserved the treatment. :/

no honky dory

Fine day despite the forecasted rain showers. Uneventful. No particular exploit worth mentioning.

Oh, the power outage. Stupid.

"There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them."

Oh dear, what a lot I have got to read.

So many books, so little time.

Life is piling up so fast that I don’t even have a minute to catch up with my reading.
Those books I hoarded before the sem break, two-thirds of them still remain untouched.

Disgusting.

That’s not all. Only two days ago, I bought two more to add to my stockpile: The Little Prince, which I already read centuries ago, I just wanted one for collection’s sake; and A Writer’s Diary, which is like my Bible at the moment. :p

If Bilbo Baggins had his precious ring to obsess with, then I have Mrs. Woolf’s diary to die for.
Bloody hell, how I worship Virginia Woolf, haha! So much, that up 'til now, I am still regally irked at my classmate, who, by some stroke of luck, got V first for her reporting, hence I ended up stuck with Jane Austen. wth.

And, how was it possible that it was just barely a week ago when the new semester began, yet, even so, it already seemed hopeless for me to escape this life-sucking hole that is college. Unbelievable. O_O

first day Punk'd

Who said students are the only one capable of ditching classes?

Professors are, too, apparently.

self-awareness of a sociopath, haha!

Sem break brought this on. Because when you’re home and bored, you start to realize things. Gross things. Wistful things. Green things. Impossible things. Happy things. Sad things. Stupid things. Funny things. Self-ish things.


1. I am a damn good chef. Yes, I am. Intermittently. I am best in the house in doing all the fried stuff: fried chicken, fried egg, fried hotdog, fried chicken, fried egg and fried hotdog, fried egg, fried egg, fried egg and fried egg.

2. I am actually a very punctual person no matter how the unkind people accuse me otherwise. Why not, I am up every morning at 11:00 a.m sharp and not a minute earlier.

3. It just dawned on me how incredibly considerate of a person I actually am. I care for the jobless people way too much that if it’s a choice between me driving and me having a driver, I’d readily (and gladly so!) give up the steering wheel just so someone could have a shot to employment. Wow, I’m selfless, yes?

4. Contrary to popular belief, I am NOT lazy or sluggish or indolent or whatever chauvinistic term it is that crabby people use to suggest idleness. What I am is far from idle. As a matter of fact, I hardly stay in one place and instead of being all slothful and laidback at home, I’d much rather spend my expensive time indulging on my own CULTURAL preoccupations. Like malls, plays, movies, music and food. I love culture like that. In effect, what that makes me is a culture-person, not an idle-person. Correct? Of course. Excellent.

5. My little brother and I have a uhm…messy relationship. We fight a lot mostly because he refuses to follow my orders. (LOL) There’s this mutually agreed enmity between us that if I have to give an analogy to it , I’d compare us to a couple heading for a divorce. We love each other. We hate each other. Either way, divorce is inevitable. Why so? Irreconcilable differences.

censored bleep bleep

Swearing has become a rather annoying part of my expression, though not necessarily daily. In fact, there are no more than two possible situations that could have cropped up if you so happen to see or hear me firing an irrepressible tirade of obscenities. One is if I’m heatedly red with rage that you wouldn't even dare to cross me more than I already am. And the other is if I’m blissfully overjoyed, nothing can spoil the mood.

And more often than not, it’s the former that I’ve been getting way too much. Certainly, that’s thanks to the sadistic barrage of [end-of-the-term] paper works, life-sucking final examinations, blood-boiling CRS pre-enlistment, vexing units of subjects or lack thereof, infuriating inchworm speed of my internet connection, among other migraine-inducing etceteras. How lovely.

Yet tonight, it’s that -official parents’ approval- that changed the tune this time. I am colossally happy right now that the “irrepressible tirade of obscenities” just won’t stop, haha! Yay! After all my pleading, crying, acting, sucking up, emotional blackmail and other unimaginable but somehow creative modus and stunts, I finally got my hard-earned consent from my parents, allowing me to spend a mini getaway in Mindoro and Puerto Galera! Gaah, I’m so happy for myself, haha!

*insert an irrepressible tirade of obscenities here*
*insert an irrepressible tirade of obscenities here*
*insert an irrepressible tirade of obscenities here*
*insert an irrepressible tirade of obscenities here*
*insert an irrepressible tirade of obscenities here*

Hmmm, nothing can spoil the mood.

Because she said so

Since it's my sembreak, my mom thought it's best to enroll me in a driving school. According to her, and I quote, "Anak, it's always good to know at saka para naman naman next time ikaw na magda-drive ng sasakyan natin..." Not bad, right? Although, I have my suspicion that that's just her sneaky way of getting rid of my lazy a$$ bumming around the house 24/7. I don't blame her, really. But she could have just come up with an outright, simple, honest statement like, "Ang tamad mo na kasi Annelvie, para naman kahit pano maging productive ang sembreak mo no", and I would understand her just the same.

Nevertheless, she enrolled me and as long as it's an all expenses paid [by her], well then, bring it on.

What I didn't see coming, however, was how much of a nervous wreck I was going to be the moment I took over the steering wheel and off we went to the highways.


Train of thoughts, then:



1. [DANGER: Deep Excavation]

>> "Waah! Why in the hell do they excavate here of all places, pag ako nahulog diyan, shemay naman o!"

2. [May mga baka cow sa kalye, yes meron talaga]

>> "Pootek, bakit ba pakalat kalat lang tong mga bakang to, pag ako nabangga…I swear!"

3. [Mga batang nag-lalaro sa gilid ng kalsada]

>> "Ano ba?! Ayaw ko pang makabangga ng bata…wag kayong tatawid! wag kayong tatawid! wag kayong tatawid, please!"

4. [Toyota Innova sa unahan ko]

>> "What the…bakit pa kasi ang ganda ganda ng sasakyan niya, kapag yan nabangga ko ang mahal ng babayaran KO [well ng nanay ko], wahhhhh"

5. [Matandang nagba-bike, pagewang gewang lang]

>> "Wahh, this manong is soo gonna die a painful death kapag nabangga ko siya…Shit! Shit! Shit!"

6. [Tatlong magkakasunod na ten-wheeler trucks]

>> "Shit naman kasi bakit ba kailangan pang ang laki laki nila, pootakte"

7. [Accident Prone Area]

>> *sign of the cross*

8. [Tumigil yung sasakyan dahil narelease ko yung clutch]

>> "Aww, joke lang po, kuya."

9. [Dahil ayaw kong mag-overtake…]

>> "Kuya, pwede bang dito na lang ako sa likod ng tricycle forever, hindi naman tayo nagmamadali diba???"

10. [Habang nagmamaneho, yung tugtog sa radyo, “Hindi kita malilimutan”]

>> "Leche, diba pam-patay yan? Ano ba yan premonition or what?! I knew it, sino ba naman kasing nagsuggest-suggest pa na mag-driving lessons ako. Awww, paalam, world…"

I need a gameplan

I couldn’t bring myself to tell my friends [marc nagpaparinig ako] that I’ve just been rejected, yet again, by my dad. I mean, not really me, but the idea of me going to Mindoro to attend Daisy’s debut. My friends are expecting me to come and I want to come myself. And I hate it that my parents are being so cynical about it. They wouldn’t give me their approval and I have a nagging suspicion that both of them, my mom and my dad, are conspiring against me. Honestly! I thought my mom was on my side, until my dad talked her out of it and voilà, she was lured into the dark side. Easily. Completely. And unabashedly. Ugh. So that leaves me back to square one wherein I'd have two stubborn souls to appease instead of one. How convenient [insert eye roll here]. But I guess there’s nothing more convenient than the fact that my mom seemed to have forgotten that she actually gave me her permission several weeks ago, because now she’s strongly denying that such occurrence ever existed. How could she…! And my dad’s no better. He’s trying to bribe me, and it’s horrible! That’s him playing dirty, and it’s annoying because I badly wanted to say ‘yes’ to the bribe but I’m holding back just for Daisy’s sake [see daisy, that’s how much I love you, darling] Ugh. Double Ugh. I never knew my parents could go to such “creative” measures just to prevent me from going. Hayy, I’m miserable.





Postscript: I’m not giving up though. I spent the whole day sucking up to them and being so impossibly nice and complimentary, but clearly that didn’t work well, that’s why tomorrow, no matter what it takes, I am soooo blackmailing them.


Post Postscript: Fine. This post ended up being so childish and trivial. I didn't mean to. The truth is I'm anxious, because let's face it, parents still get to have the last say in E.VERY.THING. [especially if they're the one going to pay for my fare] Ugh. Triple Ugh.

the disgraceful kid that I was

It’s a crying shame that there used to be a point in my life when I didn’t know what literature was unless it punches me smack-dab on the face. [Or even then, I probably wouldn’t have recognized it either.] I used to loathe books. Books were evil. Reading was hell. And to forcibly make me read even the thinnest book in the cosmos was the worst kind of torture anyone could have imposed upon me. I hated reading almost as much as I hated an afternoon nap.


I used to believe that kids had no business reading books if there were grander alternatives such as playing “piko” with the other “sipuning” toddlers or sipping the nectar of Santan, all the while having that brainless delusion that my playmates and I could actually extract a vial of that sweet thing single-handedly, and to do so would have been the coolest thing on earth. It never occurred to us that a drop of nectar was practically a century behind a nanogram. Just the same, it never occurred to me that not reading enough books would be one of my pantagruelian regrets in life as I stepped in to college several years later.


It wasn’t until my first year in the university when I finally realized how dire it was that I haven’t even read an important literature in my entire sixteen years of existence, except for Noli and Fili [even then, they were part of the curriculum in high school, thus it was compulsory that we read them. Had it not been the case, I possibly wouldn’t have known who was Crisostomo freakin’ Ibarra]. It was a disgrace, really, being so clueless about books especially if you’re surrounded by depressingly intelligent people who read books almost as frequently as they change clothes. So I figured that maybe some of my viewpoints in life [or in books] need a serious changing. So I did. Little by little, I started to read. However, it wasn’t that simple and smooth at first, especially for someone like me who started out as a book-nazi. More often than not, I would have that painful temptation to just peek at the ending of a book just to get it over with. Of course, I resisted. [at least, to most of them I did :p] At any rate, I came to genuinely love it, the reading. Over time, I developed the patience and the appreciation. So now, I read read read read read every chance I get. And the more I read, the more I hate people who don’t. I know, it’s arrogant of me to discharge such kind of repulsion, but really, not reading is soo like ewww. Haha. Failure to read not even a single book all of your life would have been the immaculate way to earn yourself a front row ticket to Loser-ville. And boy, would that suck big time.

overtaker

One of the most amusing sights for me is that of my mom driving. She gets so feisty and hot-tempered and edgy when doing so. And I swear, it’s super sidesplitting! From time to time, she has these unnecessarily mean comments and profanities that would rival that of Simon Cowell’s.


Say for example, today. My mom drove my aunt to the airport. I was sitting just right beside her so I had the delight of witnessing all her supposedly silent [but I heard them anyway] mutterings and cussing. Drat, she’s a hell of a lot more impatient and reckless than my dad!


1. Ay-yay-yay! Huminto ka! Hinto! Hinto! Hinto! HINTO SABI EH!

2. Where are you going? Ah, kakanan siya…Ayaw naman kasi magsignal, ano ba yan, parang hindi lang nag aral mag-drive.

3. Ay, parang naglalakad lang sa kawalan yung lalake oh. Mama, mababangga na kita, bilis bilis ang kilos.

4. Ikaw, maghintay ka diyang truck ka, ang laki laki mong sasakyan singit ka ng singit!

5. Etong nasa unahan natin, ke-lalaking tao, ang bagal mag-drive.

6. Ang yabang ng Jethro [bus] na yan ha, porket malaki siya akala niya hindi ko na siya ma-oovertake-an. Huh!

7. Yang mga traffic enforcers na yan, nakakadagdag lang sa traffic e. Buti ba hindi sila binabanngga diyan kapag nainis na yung mga driver. Gaya ko…

8. Ano ba tong mga batang nanghihingi na to, masasagi na kayo mga iho!

9. Whoah! Whoah! Whoah! Hold it! Hindi porke't Mercedes-Benz ka, mangunguna ka na... Yan, sige diyan ka lang sa likod ko.

10. Etong CRV na to, ke-bago bago paharang harang lang sa daan, banggain ko kaya to.



Mind you, the above comments were already the clean version. She still got some other remarks that I’d only be too embarrassed to post, wahahaha.

Sleep is gonna come

The semester officially ends tomorrow, but here I am in the province, x-miles away from the campus because I have decided that I wouldn’t want to come to school tomorrow. Trust Annel to do the irresponsible, haha. However, I don’t know if it’s an early karma or what but I do feel like I’m going to be sick. As in literally sick. Flu-sick that is. I have a splitting headache, a runny nose and a dry throat. I cough and sneeze all the time and my eyes just wouldn’t stop from watering. My gawd, I feel like a big effin’ human virus!


Hence, as of this second, the only thing I desperately need from this planet in order to feel a little better is an excellent sleep. A long, “undisturbable”, excellent sleep. Is that so hard to wish for? Is that next to impossible now? Apparently so.


You see, I’ve been awake for a good 36-hours now. Earlier today, I didn’t think I could still keep my eyes open even If I wanted to, thus I tried this Lipovitan-Punch ‘to keep me going’. So yes, my existence the whole day was Lipovitan Punch-induced. My actions were so perfunctory I could easily pass up as a human robot. Wahhh, in short I was sooo sabaw!

And now that I am home and comfy, I want nothing else but to claim at last my well-deserved sleep. Unfortunately, the stupid Lipovitan is still enjoying its no-longer-welcome self, wreaking unnecessary energy to my system, therefore I am left feeling nothing but a helplessly-empty-wide-awake-hyperactive-soul despite the impossibly-crazy-tedious-killer-day that had been. My, the ironies of life.

I'm sooo hellishly busy these days that I feel like I’m the most “harassed” life form on earth. Ergo,

I have nothing to post.

Joyeux anniversaire

He’s soo into sports, so I would pretend that I am soo into sports, as well.

We’d watch tennis games.

He loves tennis. He loves basketball more than tennis.

We’d watch basketball.

He’d be too engrossed. I’d be, “Daddy, for the love of everything that is bouncing, the only thing I know of basketball is dribble!”

We’d play darts instead.



He had an ex-girlfriend named FE. FE is the symbol for Iron.

High school. I was to memorize the periodic table of elements.


Annel: Indium…In, Iodine…I, Iridium…Ir, Iron…Fe…

Daddy: Basta anak, tandaan mo lang kapag Iron, Fe. Fe as in FE. Si FE girlfriend ko yon nung araw, bago Mama mo. Hehe.

Annel: O_o


From that point on, it never slipped my mind that the symbol for Iron is Fe. “Fe as in FE. Si FE a.k.a Daddy's ex-girlfriend”.

Trust the “ex-girlfriend mnemonics” to be an effective memorization technique.



Why , he loves to dance.

Parents go to daughter’s room.

Father would dance half-jokingly - half-seriously to Michael Bublé’s “Sway” in front of the mother and the daughter.

Mother would laugh.

Father would laugh.

Daughter would pretend to gag.

Daughter would shoo them away from her room.

Daughter would laugh.

my friend, Marty

Friends are supposed to be honest. Granted.

Hell, honesty is the best freakin’ policy. Truly.

But wouldn’t you just appreciate a little white lie from a friend if aesthetic extremity (or lack thereof) reached this point?






================================================================

Annel: what do you think?

Marty: ang kadiri ng itsura mo nel! Ahahaha!

Marty: para kang may ANUS sa mukha!

Annel: O_o

================================================================

"para kang may ANUS sa mukha!"

================================================================

I know it’s warped, but that didn’t change the fact that whatever sense of beauty I might have had for myself that night was irrevocably lambasted when my friend called me an anus.

Of all the rotten names. I was an ANUS. AN ANUS!!!

Thanks for the endearment, my friend. That's really sweet of you =)

disgruntled teenager

I just wasted four hours of my precious life to the Emmys. Meh. What a farce. The show gets worse every year, really. I didn’t even catch a glimpse of my favorite celebrities. Because had it not been for that small probability of seeing Paula there, I wouldn’t have watched it all together. [I’m a licensed stalker so it’s my job to stalk Paula Abdul, among other “stalk-able” personalities, haha] And of course, as luck would have it, yikes!, I didn’t even see a strand of her hair (or the other Idol people for that matter -- sans Ryan) during the entire show. As a result, the disgruntled me had to endure four excruciating hours of debacle among the four, five hosts who couldn’t come up with a better entertainment than those ancient and thinly veiled jokes of political insinuation and celebrity derision that they cooked up majority of the time. Even the acceptance speeches of the winners weren’t funny enough to amuse me. So boring. If it's up to me, I actually would want my time back. And speaking of time, I ought to be working on my paper right now instead of being here, ranting about irrelevant and unworthy subjects. Ta ta.

toxic

["A rose is a rose is rose is a rose" -- Gertrude Stein]

"To cram is to cram is to cram is to cram" -- Annelvie

The 29th Manila International Book Fair

Hiya cyberworld!

Wouldn’t you like to know that it’s the 29th Manila International Book Fair today (up to the 16th)? It is, and in that chic, new, and bourgeoisie-inspired SMX Convention Center, nonetheless. I’d just been there this afternoon to hoard books what else (oh yeah, and to stalk my favorite writers/professors and other literary giants too). It’s actually my first book fair ever, you know the culturally deprived loser that I am, haha, so it’s not surprising at all that my first reaction was that of a seemingly total bonkers, rooted to the spot, barely able to move on because of extreme excitement –hooray!


So it's very overwhelming to see first hand all of those books for sale. Some were delightfully cheap while others - to my utmost irritation were not so cheap it made me want to cry. I wish I could be one of those stiletto-wearing, corporate-looking, attaché case-bringing elitists who never find themselves in a situation wherein, no matter how much they adore a certain book, they have to put it back on the shelf just because it’s too pricey. Ekkk :/ But bitterness aside, I still was able to make the most out of my budget and buy a couple of optimistically good-read books for later reading in preparation for the semestral break coming. Yay, va-ca-tion ahead!

That said, if you happen to drive/walk/commute along the Pasay area, you might want to drop by the SMX Convention Center, if not for the books then how about for the famous writers present? Because if you have stalking tendencies as I do, then you'd love to go there, trust me (Butch Dalisay, Dean Alfar, Charlson Ong, Wendell Capili, Neil Garcia and a whole bunch more).

Come on, you know you want to come!...imagine the prospect of all those books waiting to be read by you - hmmm, yummy!

Things I want gone…

Telephone directories. Personal information such as contact numbers shouldn’t be publicly given like that. We run the risk of being called at home by some rude-assfaced- barbaric-good-for-nothing idiots who expect to find the loves of their lives thru that tiny device of electric signals we call telephone. So corny, yuckkkk. Others even have the audacity to call you names when you hang up on them. Ugh. Jerks.


Globe Unlimited Texting. It only encourages all those persistent-nonsensical-annoying chain and group messages which I LOATHE so much. I want them to STOP, seriously. Some of my contacts were being way too LITERAL of this unli text service by doing exactly what the service suggested – UNLIMITED texting. And I have to suffer here because I’m the miserable recipient who has to endure their never-ending – good morning, good afternoon, good night, hi, hello, what’s up, among other superfluous details of their lives which I don’t give a flying fart. Some of them I don’t even know at all (they just got my number from who knows where and who knows who) so I don’t see why they should not spare me the gaudy details of their everyday existence when we barely know each other.


People who steal things. They all should be banished from the face of the Earth. They’re nothing but self-centered-inconsiderate-foul-sinful-loathsome creatures who never look back nor feel guilty about the things they take so long as their personal satisfactions are solved. Scumbags. They don’t care if their victim winds up feeling wretched and terrible for a loss of something necessary, like my mobile phone? Never mind the victim who is left in another unpleasant situation where she has to confess to her parents that she indeed lost the phone. :[

=)

I wasn’t really planning on posting anything here today but then just a couple of minutes ago (during one of 24 Oras' breaks) I saw my professor’s tv commercial and I was wholly overjoyed by the whole thing, haha! Too bad I was alone in the room when I saw it otherwise I would have boasted to all my housemates that “that’s my professor! that’s my professor!” on television, bwahahaha.
(You should know that I'm a terrible creature with a terrible tendency to brag, bite me) ^_^

Chipmunk audition‏

I'm posting this because I thought it was unbelievably funny. So now (for my effort not to be wasted), you HAVE TO watch it as well.

As a matter of fact, I'm ORDERING you to watch it.

And because I found it funny, you HAVE TO find it funny, too.

And since I laughed, then so MUST you :]


[Bossiness is the best policy, hahaha]

fcuk

I have an incredibly gigantic problem :S


But that's the most I could disclose. For now.

Libricide

I had a bad bream last night. (‘kay, that was a pathetic opening sentence, but whatever, that’s what happened so take it as it is)
It’s about my copy of the penman’s novel, Soledad’s Sister. In the dream, some soulless-sadistic- son of a b-word managed to get a hold of my copy of SS only to tear down the cover and the title page. . !

lhjhkkbnfyiuikducpkjdhkcscjbcksjdkj! How's that for a murderer.

I’ve been very protective of that book ever since I bought my copy last month, heck I even attended the book launch. So as expected, when I found the book lying on my room floor in a state of complete libricidal damage, hell hath no fury, but more than that I was reduced into a pitiful, gibbering, sobbing mess. So serious I had to wake up wet with real tears.


Awful. And I never knew I could love a book this much.



***




My own, my love, my own, my... preccciouss...

walis, walis

It’s not an everyday thing that my mood gets set in the “diligent house elf mode” a.k.a. house clean up operation. So imagine the delight of my housemates when they found out this morning that I had every intention of tidying up my own room for the first time in weeks (or months?). With their eyebrows raised and mouths agape, I almost called out their exaggeratedly surprised reaction as rudeness. Why wouldn’t I, it’s like them saying to my face that my laziness was a hopeless case, hmp. They were so stunned, they might as well order for angels in white lacy dresses, floating in midair with trumpets in hand, singing hallelujah and there they’d have their syrupy-much-awaited-life-changing-miracle.

But alas, their happiness for my newfound diligence turned out to be short lived because of an untimely sarcasm that had me flaring up and doing a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree about face.


Annel: Ate Emma, asan walis naten?

Housemate a.k.a Ate Emma: Aba ewan ko. Itanong mo sa kapitbahay naten baka alam nila.

Annel: …



That’s it and I ran back to my computer, forgetting about the walis and the cleaning all together.

day, day, day, day

today's Friday

tomorrow's Saturday

day after tomorrow's Sunday

next day after the day after tomorrow's Monday

next day after the next day after the day after tomorrow's Tuesday

therefore,

I won't have any classes tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, the next day after the day after tomorrow and the next day after the next day after the day after tomorrow, ahihihi :]

Long weekend finally, yay!

On the brink of mental collapse

Information overload.

Too much memorization…numbers, names, places, grammatical genders.

She’s losing it so she better pass the damn test, or else…

Spoilers ahead‏

So, I stayed true to my words and I really did prioritize BD over my exams, (some student I am, I know! crucify me) I finished it Thursday and I must admit that I had a tough time digesting everything that had happened, which was why it took me days before I finally had the coolness to react.

Here’s the deal, I’m a very sensitive, immature reader, and I have beliefs and issues of my own that if, in any case, they happen to oppose the canon of a book I’m reading, I wouldn’t hesitate to put it down and happily leap to another. Then, BD happened, and snap, we’re polar opposites. Twice it made me feel like quitting.

By the end of BOOK 1, with Bella getting pregnant, I was dangerously near to closing the book (if not for my recollection of the blood and sweat a.k.a savings sacrificed just to have a pre-ordered copy). I guessed it’s just me, but having a similar age as Bella, the thought of myself being a mother at this young point didn’t sit quite well with me. Meh. Teenage pregnancy freaks the shit out of me.

Then, when BOOK 2 ended, all I wanted to do was to cry in frustration. It threw me off. (once more, it was the recollection of the blood and sweat a.k.a savings sacrificed just to have a pre-ordered copy that had me going on) I thought Jacob imprinting on Bella’s daughter was the most unfunny joke ever. Again, maybe it’s just me…but Jacob and Bella had a “thing” before. I simply couldn’t ignore the fact that at some point in their past, their relationship transcended friendship, regardless of how much Bella tried to deny it. If you’d ask me, I even thought it went a little bit out of hand when she had to cling and cry so desperately and openly to Edward over another man a.k.a Jacob towards the end of Eclipse. (which I hated her for that btw. stupid, insensitive Bella, hurting Edward like that) So having said that, Jacob moving on from mother to daughter just didn’t seem…tolerable for me. Un-stomach-able to be honest. I was rather waiting for grander actions to happen that would give the Jacob-Bella-Edward love triangle the right ending it deserved (without the interference of imprinting). Honestly, I felt like Jacob was cheated on his real feelings. Had it not been for the imprinting, he would still be in love with Bella, not Nessie.

There, those two were mainly my concerns.

HOWEVER, HOWEVER, HOWEVER,

in spite of them, I actually did enjoy the book. Not all the time but it's still there. I don’t know why but maybe it’s my love of the series as a whole more than anything. This series had grown on me. Stephenie Meyer may not be a C.S. Lewis or a J.K Rowling but she has her own way with words. Sure I got frustrated in some parts but that doesn’t change the fact that the author has this thing in her (maybe it’s a vampy or wolfy thing, perhaps both :P) that had me glued to the series in the first place. So, all things considered, it was nevertheless a pleasurable read. I had nothing against how things turned out in the end. I was genuinely satisfied that although it didn't end up having a huge, drawn out battle of bloodshed (not that I wanted that), SM still was able to evoke the appropriate emotions out me: excitement, anxiety, humor and romance all combined. The way I cringed on my seat, wanted to fast forward the pages and worried over my favorite characters, for me, that's climactic enough. So...when everything pieced together...it was lovely.

Besides, happy endings are still healthy once in a while, oui? Oui.

(s)mall observation

The most shameless thing to do while inside the mall “shopping” is to try on every item you can, exhaust the clerk to the point of paralysis by asking different sizes and different colors and different styles of that particular item (in this case, the clerk still has to do a circumferential detour all through the whole mall before getting to the stock room).

Then when you finally have this item with you, you check and inspect and examine it without giving a damn about the time or somehow the least bit of consideration that you might not be the only customer that needs attending. So, after ten years of your scrutiny and the clerk, at last, asks you so kindly if you are going to buy that thing, what you do is to smile your sweetest yet fakest, and with the most sugary, syrupy, patronizing konyo voice you can muster, you say, “No, thank you, it’s not that good.” while you stalk on your heels, stomach in, bulging chest out, full-of-yourself flair of the hair, without so much as a second glance as if you are the most majestic, important, perfect life form to grace the face of the earth.


Duh.

Ça va? Sabaw!‏

Sabaw ang exam. Ang exam ay sabaw.

stupid dates

Of all the rotten luck. Midterm examinations had to coincide with the release of Breaking Dawn.

However, I'm afraid that it's a matter of sanity and insanity if I do or don't get to read Breaking Dawn, stat.

So for the sake of that said saneness or whatever that's still left of it, BD should really have to come first before study or anything else for that matter.

Unless you are my parent and you are reading this right now, then of course midterm is the priority!

I couldn't possibly condone myself to academic negligence. Nope.

[Yeah right.]

The best things in the world are free

I couldn't agree more. :]

Seven deadly sins (accdg to wiki)

Gluttony (Latin, gula)

Derived from the Latin gluttire, meaning to gulp down or swallow, gluttony is the over-indulgence and over-consumption of anything to the point of waste.

Lust (Latin, luxuria)

Lust (or lechery) is usually thought of as involving obsessive or excessive thoughts or desires of a sexual nature.

Greed (Latin, avaritia)

Greed (or avarice, covetousness) is, like lust and gluttony, a sin of excess. However, greed is applied to the acquisition of wealth in particular.

Wrath (Latin, ira)

Wrath (or anger) may be described as inordinate and uncontrolled feelings of hatred and anger, generally wishing to do evil or harm to others.

Sloth (Latin, acedia)

Portrayed as a sin of laziness or indifference, of an unwillingness to act, an unwillingness to care.

Envy (Latin, invidia)

Like greed, envy may be characterized by an insatiable desire; those who commit the sin of envy resent that another person has something they perceive themselves as lacking, and wish the other person to be deprived of it.

Pride (Latin, superbia)

It is considered the original and most serious of the seven deadly sins, and indeed the ultimate source from which the others arise. It is identified as a desire to be more important or attractive than others, failing to give compliments to others though they may be deserving of them.

From V to L

I just got done reading Virginia Woolf’s Between the Acts. I loved it. I admired the story’s play within a play concept, non fiction and fiction. The drama of the real-life audience in Pointz Hall and the drama of the stage artists of the play were both equally absorbing and intriguing.

A while ago I was surfing the net for a little bit of the author’s background. Before I read this novel, all I knew of Woolf was that she committed suicide. But after some browsing, I learned a handful of things that had my ears perking up in curiosity. Like I never would have suspected that she was sexually abused by her half brothers…Then there’s the Hogarth Press and Bloomsbury Group among others. But if truth were told, it’s actually the suicide note for the husband that did it for me:

'Dearest, I feel certain I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier till this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that - everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer.
I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been.
V.'

Naturally, I was intrigued. I wanted to learn more of the writer’s existence. Seriously, (so far) she’s the only person I know who could make a suicide note sound so romantic…and angsty at the same time, though if you’d think about it angsty was already a given since she’s then heading for suicide, right? So yeah, there’s supposed to be angst there somewhere. At any rate, I read more and found some titles of biographical works about her done by numerous authors of different decades after her death. They were all seemingly appealing so I had that recognizable urge to go buy all of them at once and start a reading marathon. But damn that reality check for bursting my ImSoFuckingFilthyRichIcanhaveEverythingIwant-bubble. I just bought four books last week so I’m pretty much broke for the moment. Nevertheless, I vowed to buy and read at least one of those biographies sometime in the hopefully not-so-far future, or at least see the university library to try if they have the book I need somewhere on its grimy old shelves, hiding.

Antuking bata 'to

Magtanong ka na sa lasing, 'wag lang sa bagong gising.

(kaliwa) Axl - anim na taong gulang
(kanan) Annel - ???/immortal

**************

Annel: O sino ang pambansang bayani ng Pilipinas?

Axl: SI HORE RISAL!!!

++

Annel: Sige nga, anong ginawa kay Jose Rizal?

Axl: BINARIL!

Annel: Saan siya binaril?

Axl: SA ‘TERESES! (rice terraces)

++

Annel: O e bakit siya binaril?

Axl: Kasi gumawa siya ng masama.

Annel: Anong masama ang ginawa niya?

Axl: Nakipaglaban siya

Annel: Kanino siya nakipaglaban?

Axl: Sa espanyol.

Annel: E sino ba yung espanyol na yon?

Axl: Yung lalaki

Annel: Sinong lalaki?

Axl: E HINDI KO NGA ALAM! HINDI NAMAN YUN TINUTURO SA'MIN EH!!!

++

Annel: Sige iba na lang. Anong pinakamataas na bundok sa Pilipinas?

Axl: bundok?

Annel: Oo, bundok. Yung pinakamataas ha…

Axl: MOUNTAIN!!!

++

Annel: Oy Axl, bakit kayo walang pasok ngayon?

Axl: Kasi may SONA

Annel: Ano ba yung ibig sabihin ng SONA?

Axl: E di may bagyo.

++

Tita Mae: Nako, nakalimutan kong bumili ng head & shoulders

Axl: para walang dandruff, mommy?

Tita Mae: Oo. Nakalimutan ko naman… (tsk tsk tsk sounds)

Annel (nakikisabat): Sige nga Axl, anu sa tagalog ang dandruff?

Axl: E di para maalis yung mga kuto kuto

Annel: -wah, kill me now-

Against the law

Guys and girls, this is Zorro. :>

Breakfast at Cordi's

Breakfast today was the best I have had in such a long time. Ever since first year and boarding school, I rarely have the time for a decent breakfast (without parents to wake me up, am always literally running late for my first class barely having the time to grab anything for my stomach’s sake)


Prior to college, I was accustomed to our house rule wherein I couldn’t leave the house in the morning without eating rice first, so it was really a huge adjustment in my part to not have my usual heavy meal firsthand in sunup. Eventually, I did get used to it, though I still have my sporadic sappy moments like, “If only I’m home right now, I wouldn’t have been hungered to death like this, etcetera etcetera…” among other self-pitying-comments of the sort.

But thanks to our breakfast group date today, I need not to wallow in another stack of self-pity. Honestly, I may not have the best-tasting food but I certainly have the best company with me. Naks :))

Unlike Pat who’s already BFFs with the waiters (haha!), it was just my first time at Cordillera Coffee. My friends and I were supposed to meet at nine am, but alas, I should have known better than to follow whatever settled time it was, because when they said nine am, they actually meant ten or later, only they thought it would be fun to let the others (ahem!) wait, tsk tsk tsk

So, Cordillera Coffee…it’s that small café beside Vargas Museum. It has this carefree feel to it, plus the nature-ish ambience because of the trees nearby. Nice. Even the location was perfectly convenient for us considering its adjacency to our own college building where we still had to attend the 11:30 am class. Just a few walking distance and voilà, we’re there! Now the food...

Joy, Daisy and I ordered for their “Cordillera Breakfast” a.k.a longsilog, two pieces of rectangular shaped longganisa, scrambled egg and a cup of brown garlic rice. It was okay. Nothing magical though, neither the quantity nor the quality. But to make up for it, I swear, their iced chocolate was to die for! Gahhh! Try it, try it! Even their coffee, two thumbs up, oui.

I have never been a fan of Italians so it’s fairly predictable for me to wrinkle my nose in disgust when I tasted Issa, Pat and Alfhas’s “Cordillera Risotto”. They loved it, so in the end, I had to endure them calling me an ‘alien’ for having the weirdest taste buds that did not favor the majority, haha.

In any case, average food or not, I still had the best fun with the little devils (believe me, that’s an endearment), laughing loudly, teasing maniacally and simply making noise to disrupt the peacefulness of the place and aggravate our fellow customers for behaving so ;p