Très Boring

I Me Mom

2009-12-05T17:06:00.000+08:00

What I love about my mom is that she finances my Beatles obsession. Mwahahahahaha :)

Queen Bee, Queen Bitch

2009-11-30T00:42:00.003+08:00

(Para Kay Issa)

The girl is a bitch, I must tell you. But before somebody rips my head off for saying that, I urge you to read on so that I can explain myself, for I cannot have you (or Issa) think of me a back-stabbing friend now, can I?

The truth is, among us friends, there is nothing demoralizing or scandalous about the word “bitch.” If anything, it is an honest-to-goodness COMPLIMENT.

So, how is it like to be paid with that compliment? Well...

She is a lot of things, but being insincere is not one of them. If she loves you, she loves you…devotedly; if she hates you, she hates you…fatally (not that she is into physical violence, mind you).

She loves her family with passion –esteems her dad, respects her mom, adores her siblings. She talks about them with the greatest regard, and who wouldn’t when they laid for her all the groundwork of a morally-sensitive and highly-considerate rearing?

Then her extended family. Where do I start?

There is never a dull moment when she is around. Be it a simple detour to Mainlib just to have Canton, or a semi-planned vacation out of town –we would always always laugh. Together. With her.

*

I will not apologize for calling her a "bitch." Not when I mean it lovingly –not when "bitch," in this context, is just a shortcut to all of those fine qualities above, and MORE. =)

tragedy of it all

2009-10-20T02:49:00.006+08:00

I just submitted my final requirement for this semester via email. Hit SEND, and voilà –kiss me, sembreak.

I remember the time when I made my first online submission. It was a reaction paper on Hamlet. I recall being so anxious that I didn’t realize I sent the paper five times (my professor told me so afterward). It was kind of embarrassing to be told off (though I’d like to believe that my professor was more amused than angry); but then again, better safe than sorry, right? :]

There’s something about online submission that always makes me nervous. At the very least, I take 15 minutes before I enter the email address of the professor; another 15 minutes to multiple-check it; a few more minutes to make sure that I’ll be attaching the right file; a minute to actually attach the file; additional 15 minutes to think about what to write on the note area (Here is my paper, Sir/Ma’am. / Should I be friendly? / It’s our last paper, should I say thanks? / Should I say how much I enjoyed the semester? / What if I didn’t? / Should I lie? / Or what the hell, can I just say nothing at all?! ); and if I did decide to say something for propriety’s sake, there must be 20 more minutes to check the grammar; and finally, a good extra 30 minutes to contemplate on whether to truly click the SEND button or not. In the end, after all of these perusing, how must I react should I realize that the tragedy is finding out that the professor DID NOT receive anything at all? Kill me now? Oh God.

But thankfully, that hasn’t happened to me yet; and that’s possibly why the whole process is all the more scary for me because it constantly makes me wonder when my dreaded first time is going to be. HA!

In every submission, there is a deadline –so the most important thing is that you submit the paper before the deadline; If you miss it, you’re dead (not really dead dead, but dead INComplete, or dead tres/cingco; I haven’t really heard of dead DROP but for all you know it might be possible –or dead KICK OUT though that’s probably going overboard). Therefore, if, in your worst luck, your professor failed to receive your paper –then Dear me, may you R.I.P.

Though, of course, you realize you can’t seriously die just yet. You will probably curse the computer, curse the internet, curse your e-mail, curse yourself, or curse your professor, but you can’t rest (certainly NOT in peace) unless you found a way to prove to your professor that you did send that paper on time. In any case, what a real bummer, no?

On Psychology

2009-09-02T21:49:00.004+08:00

After today's lesson, I've concluded to myself that:

I don’t care how big the name of Sigmund Freud was. I think, albeit his genious, he was nevertheless a sick, embittered, EGOtistical chauvinist.
Seriously, penis envy? The nerve of him.

3-in1 plus 1, Happy Kaarawan!

2009-08-16T21:45:00.008+08:00

By God, my friends are never boring. It doesn't even matter where we are (or what we eat) --we could be in AS-CAL pigging out on siomai or isaw, or we could stray far in the malls opting for Italian's --fun and madness would always be a given when I’m in the company of these kickass people. Like the other day we were all in Cubao to celebrate Aly and Chel’s bday. To say that the house party was FUN would be a SHAMEFUL UNDERSTATEMENT. Chel’s parents weren’t around, while Aaron a.k.a Chel’s indifferent brother couldn’t have cared less about what we were doing. In essence you could guess that the poor house was left at our mercy. R-A-W-R! Just imagine the kid from Home Alone, only we're a group instead of a kid --a group of rambunctious kids who would turn the house around by the time the adults get back. Real mature. ;)

Highlights of the night:

1. All together now :)

2. Cory and Ninoy?

3. The Impostors

4. Ewicka's Bukas Luluhod din ang mga Tala moment. First time to dishwash ng eredera HAHA :)

5. Stop piracy, you guys! :))

I, therefore, conclude that (1) we're a bunch of happy people (2) we're a bunch of happy, glutton people, and (3) we're a bunch of happy, glutton, pro-piracy people. Oh yeah, sue us.

???

2009-07-19T02:25:00.006+08:00

Posting this just because it reminds me of Jed and Aly who laughed so hard at me when I wrote on the wall: You really turn me on. xoxo

What? I was quoting his lyrics! Get your mind out of the gutter, you! :]

wake up, sleepy!

2009-07-12T21:47:00.007+08:00

I ought to die.

Three days ago, I did this criminal act of falling asleep in the middle of a class. I know this post might sound so exaggerated, worse yet pointless, but really! –sleeping in class, for me, is dishonorable, and rude, and tactless, and I swear to the tortoise in Galapagos that I didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just that I didn’t sleep at all the night before hence when I came to class that day, I friggin’ looked like Frankenstein’s long lost daughter, devoid of life, and blood, and sleep, ~~and gorgeousness.~~ Half of me was struggling to keep my eyes open, while the other half was tempting me to slouch somewhere, anywhere –so I could just sleep, if not die a temporary death (temporary because I expected I should be back on my feet the next day, fully-charged).

It happened in my Psychology class. Our lesson was on Multiple Personality Disorder; since our professor was feeling a little under the weather that day, she decided to just put on a documentary rather than conduct the usual teacher-in-front lecture setup. I was listening attentively at first; I really was! I could even tell you that a younger Sally Field was mentioned in passing as she played Sybil, the girl with MPD. Then thirty minutes later, at around 12 noon, while the tape was still playing, our professor left the room. My eyes were already drooping that time and no amount of self-pinching would shake off my drowsiness. Hence I closed my eyes with a promise to myself that I would readily open them again the minute the professor walked back in to the room. The only problem was when I opened them again, to my horror, it was already 12:55! TWELVE FIFTY FIVE!!! Fuck the stupid, useless, good-for-nothing clock. Only five more minutes left before dismissal. To add to my embarrassment, I saw my prof looking at me from the front and I just knew that she knew that I knew that I slept on her! Dear me, it was so embarrassing I wanted to jump out of the window, if only it wasn’t barred. I slept on a professor, holy crap! –a professor who teaches capably and one with an MA and a PhD to go with it. No decent soul sleeps on a professor with such powerful titles. People like them just don’t spend half of their lives studying only to be slept on by their students.

I am horrible.
I am mean.
I am rude.
I am appalling.
I am nasty.
I am disrespectful.
I am bad-mannered.
I am crude.
I am tacky.
I am disappointing.

I was sleepy.
I slept.
I did not mean to.

I am sorry. :(

spread the love, spread the virus

2009-06-29T15:06:00.011+08:00

It’s quite a humiliation that I am the one getting a sore throat this time. All week long, I’ve been the one to pester and annoy my friends (three of them with the common fever + sore throat) that they’ve been hit with the A(H1N1) bug. To irritate them even further, I’ve always been the first to put out the alcohol when they’re around and make it known to their faces that they’re virus-carriers and ought to be avoided. Haha.

Of course they’re not really with the swine flu. I’ve just been having the greatest kick out of them –-it’s what great friends do, nay? I aggravate them, they retaliate, and that’s where the fun starts. It’s simply about playful bickering; sometimes it gets physical (what with the batukan, paluan and all) but nothing ugly that would send any of us to the emergency room of the infirmary. We love each other too much to inflict permanent damage, I suppose. :))

Nevertheless, driving each other barmy is still a mutually pleasurable deal to us all. So, when they had the fever and sore throat to boot, and I got to tease them to no end, I thought I was winning. Wrong. Because now that it’s my turn to have a sore throat, it gave my friends the orgasmic bliss for having the opportunity to get even with me. Durrr. Now, they’re laughing at me! Those smug little witches! Epic fail on my part, oh boohoo.

They got the last say –-Ara, particularly, got the last say:

"nel. pagtatawanan kita pag nagkasakit ka dahil promotor ka din sa pagkakalat na may swine flu kame!"

Why, nasty bitch*, hmpp. I could only hope this won't progress to a full-bloom flu.

------------

*bitch, over time, has become some sort of endearment among us. Nothing offensive, I assure you. :))

by extension

2009-06-10T01:44:00.006+08:00

I hate cryptic posts; yet here I am, doing exactly that. Does that mean I hate myself, too?

Of course not! :)

CRS rocked!

2009-06-04T22:31:00.004+08:00

Okay, so here again is my customary post about my enrollment and CRS. I WAS LUCKY –so damn lucky I got all my necessary subjects during the first run – FIRST RUN, imagine! It never happened to me before! And for that, I have nothing but love for the CRS Team. I love you, guys. More than words can wield the matter, dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty… Whoops, getting a tad carried away there. But seriously, while everybody (including most of my friends) was on the edge of resorting to violence and bloodshed just so they could have their heart-desired subjects, I was simply there consoling them but not without the air of my splendid SMUGNESS. Now it’s my turn to be the consoler rather than the consoled –and I liked it a lot. Wooot!

You see, our CRS team is a rather vile thing. It feeds on the miseries of the students; and for the past three years, I was one of its top victims. Durrr. I used to suffer fatally from having only two subjects out of my required six, so more often than not, I wound up doing the manual enlistment, other times e-prerog, both of which requiring non-human endurance and a barrel of patience: endurance and patience which I used to lack but eventually managed to master because of repeated experiences like waiting in long killer lines and standing for long killer hours. This semester, however, CRS, to my immense pleasure, was on my side, giving me all 15 units in one go! Yeehaw. Gratitude, CRS! ;)

nothing of grave importance

2009-05-31T15:50:00.001+08:00

I’m simply enjoying this laid back Sunday. The weather is perfect. I guess the best way to make the most out of a rainy day is when you’re just at home lazing around, watching a cheesy movie or a silly sitcom, and making a pig out of yourself. Sigh. Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of that as of late so consider yourself warned because the next time we meet I’d probably be sporting excess fats everywhere. My friend, in one of his brutally honest moods, even declared me ‘fat & bloated’ though I told him afterward that ‘adorably plump’ would be a better, more preferable, less tacky description. No?

Speaking of plump, the other day I was watching Bridget Jones’ Diary, though it was hilarious in general, I still couldn’t help but cringe every time she’s represented as this brainless-pretending-to-be-brainy, sex-crazed, miserable singleton, smoker, and alcoholic whose trip was to parade around in her knickers while running after this aloof, overbearing yet exceptionally hot bloke. That somehow sent my indignation flaming because not every female is silly like Bridget. Although I admit I was impressed by Renee Zellweger. How the fuck did she do that looking so sickeningly glamorous despite the fats? She put the bulimic, insect-thin models of runways to shame, honestly! Durrr…

lalala

2009-05-18T03:03:00.005+08:00

Sharing this adorable video with that adorable animation.
And the song --well, it's from THE BEATLES, need I say more?

mindless musing and not

2009-05-09T23:41:00.012+08:00

What do you think is the best way to please my mom?

a. for once, should I wake up early? (maybe it would make her happy to know that her daughter's body clock is not hopelessly abnormal)

b. bear hug

c. sexy lingerie

d. how about cleaning the house? (though my mom would not be tricked into believing this as long as our housekeeper is here)

e. erm, male stripper/s? (what and never mind my dad? this is suicide, I'm telling you)

f. breakfast in bed (that is, if I could get up in time for *breakfast*)

g. c and e (suicidal again)

h. I'm feeling generous --all of the above

i. oh, to hell with mothers' day --none of the above!

*******

Still,

HAPPY MOTHERS' DAY!!!

The truth is, I don't have anything up my sleeve other than that bear hug above; but that doesn't make my greeting to my mom any less sincere and loving than if, by any chance, I really have that sexy lingerie for a gift.

for the header

2009-05-02T23:02:00.006+08:00

I have a new header! A little nod to Wendy Cope. Before today, Being Boring is first a title of her poem from the book, If I Don't Know (2001). I realize that Mrs. Cope is someone who is very very (like super!) spiky when it comes to copyright infringement; and I could possibly get myself into trouble for what I am about to post. But please, please, please. Allow me to do this, just this one time. Ok? Don’t sue me. I’m just a penniless university student, ~~who’s got nothing but a charming face to support myself should the responsible authority decide to take the legal action.~~ So,

On with the poem:

If you ask me 'What's new?', I have nothing to say
Except that the garden is growing.
I had a slight cold but it's better today.
I'm content with the way things are going.
Yes, he is the same as he usually is,
Still eating and sleeping and snoring.
I get on with my work. He gets on with his.
I know this is all very boring.

There was drama enough in my turbulent past:
Tears and passion-I've used up a tankful.
No news is good news, and long may it last,
If nothing much happens, I'm thankful.
A happier cabbage you never did see,
My vegetable spirits are soaring.
If you're after excitement, steer well clear of me.
I want to go on being boring.

I don't go to parties. Well, what are they for,
If you don't need to find a new lover?
You drink and you listen and drink a bit more
And you take the next day to recover.
Someone to stay home with was all my desire
And, now that I've found a safe mooring,
I've just one ambition in life: I aspire
To go on and on being boring.

Light verse poems are cool. They're gay, and humorous, and fairly understandable by mere mortals.

bulilit, bulilit

2009-04-30T22:42:00.007+08:00

Tell me that I am not the only one who finds the kid in this commercial so adorably cute.

Awwww, this has got to be one of my favorite commercials to date. :)

It's a very appealing ad, methinks. Smart choice of concept. It's not forgettable and senseless, unlike some others. Catchy jingle, too. The first time I heard of it, I had the most terrible case of LSS; although I had to be careful when around friends because had they heard me singing that 'bulilit, bulilit song', I knew, with every microscopic cell in my body, that they wouldn't let me live long after that --By God, I would be a laughingstock! And I would possibly lose my respectability, in effect. haha.

"Bulilit, bulilit
sanay sa masikip
kung kumilos kumilos
ang liit-liit
buliit
kung kumilos
ang liit liit..."

My suggestion is if you're in a pissy mood, try seeing this commercial. It drives away the negative energies, ay. It works for me. So the next time I get into another battle royal with my brother, I could always go to youtube, watch this commercial over and over again, until I could finally dupe myself into thinking that, perhaps, by some sort of miracle, my brother would be as well-behaved as the 'bulilit' here. :D

My fingers are crossed.

I don't mean to be crappy

2009-04-25T20:39:00.005+08:00

I'm in this tragic phase wherein everything I write is crap. Not that I haven’t been writing crap before, but I think I write crap now more than I ever did in the past. And in my logic, that makes me a crappy person.

Really, there are a lot of not-crappy things happening to me lately. So, it makes me wonder how come I still can’t find something not-crappy to write about even if, as I’ve said, I have too many not-crappy happenings to choose from.

Oh crap, I wish I’m not this crappy person, who writes crappily.

At any crappy rate, I think, deep down, I really know the reasoning behind this new crappy me. Here’s the thing: it's not solely about me being crappy, but me being lazy. I complain about crappy writing but the truth is it's majorly that way because of my lazy thinking. The more I become lazy, the more I become crappy. I write crappily because I think lazily. So you see, I'm crappy because I'm lazy. I can be not-crappy if only I choose to be not-lazy. Ergo, if only I can get pass the sodding laziness, I’m pretty certain I can get rid of the sodding crappiness.

Until then, bear with me, please do.

two of us

2009-04-16T18:44:00.009+08:00

I was hugely delighted when, only a week ago, I found a new Beatle-buddy in Jed. Yesss! About time to have a new friend I could go ‘fangirl-ing’ moment with. She saw my laptop and was pleasantly surprised to find my music library full of Beatles songs. Hah! So after that melodramatic revelation that indeed, we did, and still do share a fixation for the four British chaps, we couldn’t (wouldn’t) shut up for how many hours –-we're just there getting all giddy, comparing songs and favorites, conveniently neglecting the fact that we're supposed to be paying attention to the professor speaking in front of ourclass rather than doing that monkey business of ours.

**

Anyhow, these previous weeks I also noted some of my Beatles encounters here, there, and everywhere. They’re the most ordinary things yet they still managed to give me the warm fuzzies every time. Awww. :))

1. In the mall with mom. Entered Toby’s, then lo and behold: A Hard Day’s Night album was playing! Bless that shop for having a taste.

2. One of my professors made our class do a discourse analysis of ‘She’s Leaving Home.’ Additional perk when she related to us her experience of being in the Beatles’ concert here in Manila way way way way way way way way way way way way back. Lucky woman, that one.

3. Caught grandfather whistling ‘Twist and Shout.’ He denied it afterwards.

4. I saw an incredibly cute guy wearing an equally cute Lennon shirt. Oh dear, what a turn-on.

5. Came across Miley Cyrus’ twitter account. Her layout is that of Lennon’s face. Hmm, even if I couldn’t stand this girl, I guess I should give her props for having the best taste in music, yes?

**In this regard, I am dangright confident I would eagerly sell myself to the dark side if only I could witness (live!) a Beatles’ concert. Jed would do the same, am sure.

the crabby crab

2009-04-13T20:07:00.004+08:00

I’m up against nature. I hate the weather. stupid summer. inconsiderate sun. despicable heat.

Oh yes, I'm this teed off that even the existence of a defenseless, non-talking sun I blame.

commercial break

2009-04-11T00:53:00.003+08:00

I flare up every time I see this commercial.

Duh.

How could some people be so daft as to portray a woman as looking so shallow that her happiness depends entirely upon a pair of shoes? Seriously. I'd like to believe that women are more sensible than that.

it could have been worse

2009-04-07T23:24:00.008+08:00

What a delight that my registration day this time around didn’t take away every ounce of patience present in my ~~sexy~~ body, as it usually did in the past. Even CRS was fairly generous in giving me all the necessary subjects by the end of the second run. Assessment was taking eons to finish; but that’s a hard fact that one just have to learn to accept overtime, along with the realization that it won't be changing anytime soon –and I did, so I’d really rather not rant about it; besides, my friends were there to keep me company while I was cooling my heels, so that’s fine. The payment cue at PNB was normally lengthy, but the movement of the line was surprisingly swift; so that’s fine again. Really, my day could have been worse; thankfully, it wasn’t. In fact, I was able to finish the whole enrollment process at around two o’clock. That’s already a mighty feat for me considering that I’ve had worse fates before where one day wasn’t enough and I still had to come back to the university the following day.

Nevertheless, the whole falling in line and waiting strain still left me famished all the same (as it would any normal stomach.) So at around four o’clock, when my friends and I were all done with the registration and payment, we hit the mall a.k.a Trinoma. We couldn’t agree to a common place to dine, so in the end, Ronn had to play the leader and decide for the group. He wanted BK, so BK it was for us. There were eleven of us in the table and I could only imagine how scandalized the other customers must have felt seeing a group so large, so noisy, and soo…good-looking :P

the truth of the matter

2009-03-08T15:42:00.002+08:00

It is a scandal to let so much time slip without posting anything here.

And scandal it will remain at least for a few more weeks to come. Gahhh.

How demanding life could get.

the vain, self-centered leader

2009-02-24T02:02:00.005+08:00

im in the middle of a serious, inescapable crisis these days. so many things to do, so little time. im very tired (so much so that i brush off the proper use of punctuation?! and CAPITALIZATION, do you notice?) and yet that does not even begin to scratch the surface of how beat i was yesterday. i was so darn ear my point of blowup then, hence the need for a break. but when i did so, i wished it was otherwise.

whatever possessed me to take the blasted "Dr. Phil's Personality Test" in facebook. <_<

why, i was called as:

The Vain, Self-Centered Leader

Others see you as someone they should "handle with care." You're seen as vain, self-centered, and who is extremely dominant. Others may admire you, wishing they could be more like you, but don't always trust you, hesitating to become too deeply involved with you.

reaction: wow, am i really that rotten a person? awesome.

huh?

2009-01-24T23:16:00.007+08:00

Maybe it has something to do with the occasion today, or perhaps I just woke up at the wrong side of the bed; either way, it still seems largely miraculous that here I am creating a new post after a looooooooooong period of hiatus.

self to self: “Oh hey, you have a blog, darling, remember? Somehow, that needs updating!”

+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#

What's with today?

My birthday –& let me count up all the things I love about it:

1. I have no reason to entertain the possibility of malnourishment because birthday means food. Plenty of them. I can be as stuffed as I want to be. Diet be damned.

2. I can have my room at its dirty worst without hearing a single chastise from my mother. Though I have to remind myself that such tolerance from her is only valid for 24 hours.

3. Everybody’s nice to me. HAHAHA. Terms of endearments are simply overflowing –darling, dear, dearest, dearie, love –oh I adore’em all! They give off an impression as if I’m the nicest person on the planet. [feeds my ego, really, haha]

4. I can play any song that I want while in my mother’s car without her side-commenting that I have a “weird, corny choice of songs”. [She finds it queer that I obsess over the old old old songs more so than I do with the contemporary ones.]

5. It’s the fact that my elementary friends still greet me and remember my birthday.

6. To celebrate birthday is to celebrate comment-flooding in friendster, multiply, facebook and plurk.

7. I can wish for this and that and still my parents won’t complain. [that is as long as I don’t ask for a car or marriage blessing, then we’re all good]

8. People in the house turn lovey-dovey towards me: hugs, kisses, birthday wishes everywhere. Wow, I’m like: “Spoil me more, people! Come on!”

9. The tv remote control is entirely mine, and for once, my brother can’t do anything about it.

10. It’s when the night before I can’t shake off the feeling of dread when I ask myself “what if nobody remembers my birthday tomorrow?”; then only to wake up the morning after and find out that my inbox is flooded with birthday messages. Heart-warming at that. =D

+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#+#

So, yes, cheers ^_^

Happy Birthday to me. I'm glad I exist :D

green with

2009-01-17T21:16:00.006+08:00

What I envy the most about this kid (whom I saw inside a bookshop) :

1. He's surrounded by books.
2. He's reading.
3. He has the time.

license to kill

2008-12-28T02:19:00.003+08:00

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

2008-12-22T16:36:00.007+08:00

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

2008-12-21T16:32:00.003+08:00

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

2008-12-20T15:52:00.005+08:00

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!"

2008-12-20T14:25:00.005+08:00

(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

2008-12-19T21:13:00.007+08:00

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

2008-12-19T15:20:00.012+08:00

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

2008-12-18T14:16:00.004+08:00

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

moi: Ows?

alvin: (dead air)

moi: HAHAHAHA. Okay, gets.

surprise, surprise, surprise

2008-12-16T19:34:00.004+08:00

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

2008-12-13T19:37:00.000+08:00

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

2008-11-23T13:51:00.004+08:00

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

2008-11-22T23:15:00.003+08:00

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."

2008-11-15T21:28:00.004+08:00

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

2008-11-07T21:15:00.002+08:00

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

Professors are, too, apparently.

self-awareness of a sociopath, haha!

2008-11-04T01:38:00.009+08:00

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

2008-10-23T21:15:00.001+08:00

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

2008-10-19T09:51:00.009+08:00

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

2008-10-16T22:38:00.005+08:00

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

2008-10-12T20:35:00.008+08:00

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

2008-10-09T20:43:00.000+08:00

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

2008-10-07T23:48:00.004+08:00

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,

2008-10-06T22:20:00.007+08:00

I have nothing to post.

Joyeux anniversaire

2008-10-04T12:05:00.015+08:00

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

2008-09-29T13:06:00.012+08:00

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

2008-09-22T18:06:00.007+08:00

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

2008-09-20T16:32:00.007+08:00

["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

2008-09-12T23:23:00.010+08:00

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…

2008-08-31T13:22:00.004+08:00

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. :[

=)

2008-08-25T19:43:00.006+08:00

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

2008-08-24T00:50:00.010+08:00

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

2008-08-23T17:04:00.003+08:00

I have an incredibly gigantic problem :S

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

Libricide

2008-08-19T11:23:00.005+08:00

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

2008-08-18T12:52:00.008+08:00

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

2008-08-15T22:04:00.003+08:00

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

2008-08-14T17:43:00.003+08:00

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

2008-08-11T01:55:00.017+08:00

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

2008-08-09T19:49:00.013+08:00

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!‏

2008-08-07T18:33:00.006+08:00

Sabaw ang exam. Ang exam ay sabaw.

stupid dates

2008-08-05T20:23:00.011+08:00

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

2008-08-04T15:11:00.008+08:00

I couldn't agree more. :]

Seven deadly sins (accdg to wiki)

2008-08-03T22:54:00.011+08:00

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

2008-08-02T01:48:00.006+08:00

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

2008-07-28T16:39:00.014+08:00

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

2008-07-26T01:32:00.014+08:00

Guys and girls, this is Zorro. :>

Breakfast at Cordi's

2008-07-25T23:52:00.013+08:00

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

Guilty as charged - joke time ;p

2008-07-25T23:31:00.003+08:00

Infidelity is wrapping your arm around a girl’s shoulders all the while your real girlfriend is sitting right beside you.

Bwahahaha, peace Pat! ;p

Masarap kutusan

2008-07-20T22:06:00.012+08:00

Marami akong reklamo sa buhay, totoo ‘yon. Dito pa lang sa blog na ito, kung sakali mang napadpad ka at nakapagbasa, hindi mahirap mapuna na halos pitompung porsyento yata ay naglalaman lang ng mga angal, angal at marami pang angal. Tulad na lang ng walang kamatayan kong hinaing tungkol sa Maragondon. Ang aming bayan ng Maragondon na madalas kong ilarawan bilang ubod-saksakan-nuknukan ng liblib. Idagdag pa ang prestihiyoso nitong titulo bilang ‘Brown out Capital of the Philippines’. San ka pa?

Hindi naman sa ayaw ko sa Maragondon. Kabaligtaran pa nga e. Talaga lang yatang merong mga pagkakataon na hindi mo maiiwasang mainis, mapakunot-noo at mapasigaw sa yamot dahil tunay nga naman talaga itong ubod-saksakan-nuknukan ng liblib. At sa isang kolehiyalang kagaya ko na pumapasok sa siyudad, aba e talaga nga namang duduguin ako sa pag-iisip pa lang ng may kung ilang oras (tatlo, apat, lima…) kong pagbyahe mula bahay hanggang eskwela.

Nakakapagod. Mainit. Malagkit. Malayo. Grrrr.

Minsan tinanong ako ng isa kong klasmeyt sa PE kung taga saan daw ba ako. Siyempre sinabi ko ang ubod-saksakan-nuknukan ng liblib na bayan a.k.a Maragondon. Hindi ko alam kung masyado lang siyang nadala sa deskripsyon ko o tunay lang talaga siyang may O.A. na imahinasyon. Pero ganito ang reaksyon nya:

Klasmeyt na itago sa pangalang Pam: Taga saan ka nga pala ulit?

Annel: Sa Cavite.

Klasmeyt na itago sa pangalang Pam: Ah talaga? Nakapunta na ko dati diyan sa may mga pinsan ko, Dasma ata ‘yon. Malapit ba kayo dun?

Annel: Nyek, hinde. Malayo pa kami dun. Dun pa kami sa Maragondon. Liblib yung amin as in grabe, sobra. Tipong may mga bundok bundok pa at mga kalabaw at bukid, haha.

Klasmeyt na itago sa pangalang Pam: Oh? Hindi nga?

Annel: Oo nga. Wala ngang mga Jollibee or Mcdo dun e.

Klasmeyt na itago sa pangalang Pam: Weh?

Annel: Haha, ayaw mong maniwala. I swear.

Klasmeyt na itago sa pangalang Pam: E san kayo nakatira?

Annel: Anong saan kami nakatira?

Klasmeyt na itago sa pangalang Pam: Yung tinitirahan niyo…Sa bahay kubo, ganun?

Annel: -wtf-

Read or die

2008-07-19T20:34:00.015+08:00

It’s nothing unusual for a small and far-off town such as ours to have a power failure. In fact, I could say brown outs are already our people’s everyday fixation. That said, it no longer came out as a shock for me to wake up this morning in a trickle of sweat because the stupid fan suddenly stopped working…and what else what else…but power outage.

It was early and I had nothing to do. No computer, no tv, no electric fan, no radio…What a lame life. I had my thousand attempts of going back to sleep but they were futile seeing as there wasn’t even a whirl of wind around and the heat waves were simply killing me. So what else was better than dying but reading. I took out my newly borrowed book and started reading to pass the time. It was short and I finished it around the time power was restored (three hours later). But boy did I not expect myself to be a sobbing mess almost all throughout the book. I swear it was overly tear jerker it should have been banned! ;p

The Chinese Cinderella, the true story of an unwanted daughter. It was my first time to read Adeline Yen Mah, and I must say that thru this book, she managed to give me a rather excellent first impression of herself. As the title reveals, this book chronicles a slice of the author’s life from zero to early teens, with her having to deal with the insufferably dreadful reality of being an unwanted daughter. After her mother died of giving birth to her, Adeline was instantaneously subjected to her family’s disdain. Her own father and siblings considered her nothing but bad luck, a piece of garbage they were all better off without.

To make matters worse, her stepmother, along with her half brother and half sister, didn’t seem to treat her any differently. Or even if they did so, it was for the better…better cruelty, better brutality. All things considered, it was such a crappy childhood that was made even more crappy by her crappy family and their crappy behavior.

The number of times I cried every time there would be painful blows of emotion! It was like Tuesdays with Morrie all over again. The only difference was that in TWM I cried because the situation was unbearably good whereas in this novel, I cried because the situation was unbearably bad. The torment that happened to Adeline, they were never physical. They were always emotional. A dead right stab of words specially created to evoke the deepest and nastiest pains that no matter how thick-skinned a person is, (s)he wouldn’t be able to go on without admitting even to a slightest cut. So how much more for a defenseless little girl?

And that’s the point when I get to admire Adeline for her unwavering spirit. Instead of being discouraged by all the negativities surrounding her, she persisted. She was treated as rubbish and yet she never let on the idea that she was nothing as her family wanted her to believe so. In the end, she turned the table against them when she used the painful memories as her reminder and driving force to prove her family wrong; that she was not a worthless piece of crap but rather an extraordinarily intelligent girl with a grand future. And a grand future it had been, for she would later on be widely known as both a physician and a writer with a thriving and laudable career either way.

-end-

*cyber sniffing sniffing sniffing*

Epistaxis Love

2008-07-18T22:18:00.005+08:00

I have the type of friends wherein,

(friends’ text # 1) : nel, ung 300 mo nskn ah. Pnlgy ni ara. knin m skn kndi akn n 2h.

*albeit the time pressure, you know that they will still so kindly look after your things come what may.

(friends’ text # 2) : …annel, issa 2! Dhil d k ngre2ply ga2stos kmi ng 100 s pera mo!!! Bi2li kmi ng cake!

*they are courteous enough to ask for your permission.

(friends’ text # 3) : annel, mern k png 25 pesos. Msrp ung cake d2. SOBRA!! Dagdagan m nln ng 50 pesos mkkbli k n ng cake mo!!

*they care about you, so much as they are kind enough to provide you left-over. In this critical time of Philippine economic crisis, twenty-five pesos is not bad. Right? right?

(friends’ text # 4) : ,,annel e2 na ga2stusin n nmin. E2 n inaabot q n s cashier! MGREPLY k kc wla n ung pera mo

*they are thoughtful even. In their own warped way, they like to hear from you somehow. MGREPLY k!!!

(friends’ text # 5) : ,,annel ano k b naman?! Gnastos n namin pera mo

*And lastly, they are rather honest, don’t you think so? ^_^

Bagyo Alert

2008-07-14T22:17:00.003+08:00

It's been raining all day long and news has it that another typhoon is looming on the horizon.

As usual, I've been keeping my fingers cross for a no-classes-announcement.

Such a rotten student, i know.

On a completely different note though, i still haven't gotten over my full belly laugh when I heard Mike Enriquez on the news refered to Miss Venezuela as "Miss Valenzuela", haha.

An honest mistake but I laughed anyway. Talk about shallowness.

A shallow person's shallow blog entry about shallowness. Nice going.

Poetic kaekekan

2008-07-11T23:46:00.008+08:00

I’m in a poetic mood tonight, ahaha. But don’t worry, weaving words in such a creative and artistic manner as poems is something I wouldn't be able to if my life depended on it. Everybody knows how much I suck in everything that has rhyme and rhythm and meter and figurative language etcetera. So to preserve your sanity, I better not.

By poetic I meant Robert Frost. I have always loved his poem, “The Road Not Taken”. And thanks to Prof. Dalisay (who in turn has given his thanks to Prof. Jurilla), our class was able to listen to an audio of Frost himself reciting his own poem.

Man, was it such a goosebumps-inducing experience!
(“goosebumps-inducing” because he’s good, not “goosebumps-inducing” because he’s dead, alright?)

Very well, then you might like to listen to it yourself:

I'm not being rude

2008-07-09T19:57:00.005+08:00

You know those days when everything seems to be getting on your nerves easily?

You dismiss every joke as corny and don’t even bother to at least feign an amused reaction just for the cracker’s sake. What’s worse is you even include an eye roll in the process.

You’re abnormally quite. And for someone who talks 1000 words per minute then that must be some kind of an innovation.

You know for a fact that you’re in a foul, sour mood. So you don’t understand why people don’t appear to recognize ‘that mood’ since they just worsen it by labeling you as ‘kill-joy’, ‘spoilsport’, ‘attitude problem’, ‘anti-social’ and a whole bunch of other names as well, similar to that effect.

You’re a social little creature yet today you don’t feel up for any day trip. As a matter of fact, all you want to do is distance yourself from everybody, then lock yourself up inside your room because everything else just infuriates you.

You seem to be too hostile for your own good and you find that urge to bitch and boss around as if your acting so in your normal days is still not enough to last you a second lifetime.

Your curse the hell out of the GLOBE Telecommunications Inc. for proposing that stupid, idiotic idea of UNLIMITED TEXTING. Then you shift the blame to some of your contacts who don’t seem to have any healthier things to do, other than to send a succession of group messages and broadcast to you and to the world the littlest details going on with their lives. (which for the record, you don’t give a rat’s fart)

(Let’s eat!, Good morning/afternoon/evening, Hi/Hello, Oooh I really like this tv show! You should watch it too!, It’s Sunday, let’s attend the mass!, Ugh, it’s Monday again, back to school, Traffic is hell…and so on and so forth…)

Seriously! Do I resemble a mobile phone diary nowadays?!

Don’t take offense. I’m not being rude. It’s just one of those days. Really.

Rest assured that this is not the PMS talking.

NOT. AT. ALL.

Cause of death

2008-07-07T19:58:00.004+08:00

(assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments and more assignments)
(assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments and more assignments)
(assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments and more assignments)
(assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments and more assignments)
(assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments and more assignments)
(assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments and more assignments)
(assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments and more assignments)
(assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments and more assignments)
(assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments and more assignments)
(assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments and more assignments)
(assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments and more assignments)
(assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments. assignments and more assignments)

Code black.

Message électronique‏

2008-07-07T19:28:00.005+08:00

As per usual, we have an assignment in our French class. This time, we have to send an email to our professor talking about our day,…Unsurprisingly, we have to do it en français. Ooh là là! Whatever have I done to be punished like this?! T_T

Gahhh…

So, I just finished clicking the send button of the assignment (via email). Though I have to admit that I am such a cheater, hahahaha! I did parts of it with the aid of dictionary.com online translator, bwaahahaha. I know, I know, it’s horrible, mais je n’ai pas de choix. (our last week’s lesson was negation, so am doing a wee bit of practice here, as you can see ;p) Also, I am sure as hell my classmates did the same thing, haha! (the “online translator”, I mean) ;p

Horrible, horrible, horrible…

Anyway, here’s what I had come up with:
(francophones, by all means correct my mistakes, I know I have many of them here)

Mlle *professor’s name*,

Salut!

Mon jour est terrible. Il pleut et je suis en retard pour ma classe en syntaxe. En conséquence, je manque certaines des leçons. En plus, j'oublie de saluer mon ami sur son anniversaire. Je suis un mauvais ami, oui ? Terrible, terrible, terrible ! En conclusion, nous avons beaucoup de devoirs pour le week-end. La vie n'est pas juste. J'espère est demain bon.

Amitiés.

*my full name*

+++++

The highlighted, bold parts were the ones from the translator. Didn’t know how to say them in French so I utilized all the help I could find, harharhar.

World Peace ;)

Observations, realizations and declarations

2008-07-06T19:06:00.008+08:00

Too much books could be nauseating. Yesterday was the first time I set foot in Gateway's branch of National Bookstore. Having four expansive floors, it’s by far the largest one I’ve ever been to. Shelves after shelves, it’s very overwhelming to be surrounded by a gazillion books of different sort: paperback, hardback, brand new, second or third or fourth hand, all of them spanning a variety of literary genre. The only downside was that it was also nauseating and frustratingly so to be in their presence having to deal with the fact that I wasn’t filthy rich enough to buy ALL the books I fancy owning and build a library out of them, because I don’t have the purchasing power to do so (for the moment), haha. It’s one of those days when dirty, sexy money could have really come in handy.

Life is unpredictable. It’s very cliché to say so and it’s not like I was the first observant of this truth but I wanted to say it anyway because I just learned that Lola Purita died the other day :( She’s a family friend from the neighborhood. An old lady whom I used to think as extraordinarily hearty for her age, until yesterday. It was a sudden departure just as in most cases. My mom and I will be going to the wake tonight.

I despise cucumbers. Loathe the smell and their color green. I think they’re not even qualified to be vegetables or fruits or whatever they are. As far as I believe, they’re not supposed to exist. They’re nothing but ornamental nuisance to my cheeseburger.

Sleepy people are inconsiderate. Ronn and I were riding a public transpo van on our way home when this dude beside Ronn just slouched and dozed off on his seat as if it was his house’s couch, thus occupying Ronn’s space as well. The dude slept the whole way through with his head on Ronn’s shoulder and his bulky legs too, disgustingly atop his poor seatmate’s.

In a circle of friends, there is always one you love the most and another one you like the least.

Ants are well-disguised villains out to steal my foods. We’re archenemies. I hate them for invading the privacy of my Stick-o and they hate me for executing genocide as retaliation.

Whenever you’re running late for a meeting, class, appointment, etc., that’s disdainfully the time too when everything around you seems to move in the slowest of motion, making you even more late than possible. It’s like a conspiracy that you notice how the driver drives slower than usual, how you suddenly get caught up in a traffic jam on a place that is usually traffic-free, and how the road seems to have grown a mile extension overnight because you just couldn’t seem to reach your f*ckin’ destination fast and prompt.

Ang kadiring booger

2008-07-04T19:01:00.007+08:00

Annel: Kim, babasahin ko na lang ng malakas ‘tong magazine tapos sabihin mo sa’kin kung tama ang pronunciation ko ha?

Kim: Sige, sige…game…

*sinubukang basahin ni Annel ang unang pahina ng French magazine*

Maayos na sana ang lahat hanggang sa dumating sa puntong…

…les faire bouger

Annel: Le fer…boo…boo…boo…BOOGER????

*at tumawa ng malakas si Kim*

Nakisama na rin si Annel sa pagtawa ng mapagtantiya niyang ang tama nga palang pagbigkas ay /buʒe/ at hindi booger.

Attitude problem

2008-07-04T08:13:00.016+08:00

.I

thoughtless. self-centered. inconsiderate. rude. spoiled. brat.

brat. spoiled. rude. inconsiderate. self-centered. thoughtless.

I.

What the...?!?

2008-06-29T22:13:00.013+08:00

Thursday after class, my friends and I had a momentary lapse of sanity when we decided to have our own “photo shoot” at the lagoon, haha. Inhibitions be damned. We posed and internalized as if we were truly a group of high-paid, professional god-looking models, bwahaha! Wisha wisha wish!

There was even a trio of passers-by who were all smiling (or rather laughing?) when they saw us in position. They did clap too, mind you. But I’d like to think it was out of sincerity not mockery ;p

The Little Prince

2008-06-28T18:16:00.007+08:00

I never knew how moving The Little Prince could be until now. It’s a Saturday, and such a lazy afternoon at that so I found myself taking Aly’s copy of this Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s work, out of retirement. It’s a shame that it had taken me eighteen years of existence before I finally had the chance to read this novella. But I reckon that now is a good time as any considering my age as dangerously close to that fine demarcation line of being a child and being a grown-up.

I remember this conversation I overheard about a year or two ago. I was at this bookstall at AS walk browsing thru their books. This student beside me was gushing about her fondness for The Little Prince. The book seller, who’s an old man in his mid-40s, answered back to the student saying that it’s a truly extraordinary book, and then he went on recounting his short story when he first bought his own copy, supposedly for his young son to read. Out of tradition (and maybe to be on the safe side too) he read it first before handing it over to his son, but what he didn’t expect was for himself to learn a lot more than he expected to be, from what is technically, a children’s book.

For a while, I was curious about the mentioned book. But I did not buy it right there and then of course, for reasons that 1). I had no business getting a book since during that time, I was still on a critical hunt to find Albert Camus’ The Plague required for my English class. 2). I thought the old man was just making up his story, an underhand ploy to sell his books. 3). And finally, probably the most conceited of all reasons there is: I fancied myself old enough to read such a children’s literature. So, I left. The Little Prince forgotten afterward.

But now, one or two years later, after reading the book, I could attest to the old man that I was just as entranced by the book as he was the first time. What I thought was a simple just-to-pass-the-time leisurely light reading turned out to be a profound, insightful teaching about human character and conduct.

It’s essentially a children’s book, but thankfully not the usual once-upon-a-time, fairy tales of prince and princesses whatever, but a rather shrewd account which, if I’m being honest, has more significance than some of the adult novels I’ve read before (hint hint: Fern Michaels' Future Scrolls, yuckkkk! I wasted my money on that one! Don't make the same mistake I did!).

Now, The Little Prince… that’s the highly recommendable one. Go read, if you haven’t yet. It’s one extraordinaire of a book every adult must read before they die, yes.

A little secret if I might add too: I wept. Towards the end. It’s a less than 100-paged story, and I effin’ wept like a little girl whose rag doll had been snatched by a playmate. But I wouldn’t say it’s pathetic or something to be embarrassed about. It’s natural. One runs the risk of weeping a little, if one lets herself be tamed.

Doomed

2008-06-23T18:43:00.001+08:00

I am a disgruntled teenager who will do anything in the world just to have another day off.

Or maybe half day will do.

Gosh, I’m going back to uni tomorrow but my take home course works are yet to be touched. X_X

On bended rule

2008-06-21T21:47:00.006+08:00

Rules are good.

They set the order of things. They give chance to fairness. They’re safe. They prevent mishaps. Hell, they even make (some) people a tad responsible, so much as they know not to break them.

But rules give as much disappointment as pleasure. They tend to be a great pain in the a$$ in the most unlikely time that you may often find yourself saying, to hell with them, and cursing whoever Pontius Pilate it was who set them in the first place.

I believe in the goodness of rules, really. But it’s the sensible me that believe even much more so that any normal human being was, is or will be a violator to a rule at some extent.

Last Thursday, I was so eager to break one. I lost my I.D. (again!) and in effect, I couldn’t get in to the library. I went to the Photo ID Room to get a new but it was this horrible guy who deprived me from getting one.

Horrible guy: Sorry, you can’t. The UPIS kids are the ones scheduled today. Freshmen and upperclassmen will resume their rightful schedule next week. So come back then.

Pitiful Annel: But Sir, I really need the I.D. today to go to the library and borrow a book I must have for one of my subjects.

Horrible guy: Sorry, really can’t. It’s in the rule and the schedule.

Pitiful Annel: Can’t you really get me one? I mean, there’s not even the line of your expected students yet. You can take my picture now and produce the I.D. in less than five minutes, and I bet they still wouldn’t be here. Please, sir.

Horrible Guy: No. (turned his back on me)

Pitiful Annel: Grrrr…

Has he no consideration at all? I stated my case. I needed the I.D. for a scholastic reason. It’s not like I wanted to have a new one just for the fun of it. And what had me even more vexed was the fact that he was just there standing, waiting for the yet-to-arrive UPIS kids. What if instead of standing uselessly, he made himself helpful and accommodated me? His five-minute of standing could have produced me the I.D. I wanted. But no. Because he decided to stick with the rule and the schedule.

To hell with that rule!

And it didn’t add any appeasement that I was thinking how rules, in reality, are broken extensively. Exceptions are made. Adjustments are created. But only for special people.

Begrudgingly, I wasn’t special enough to have that pass.

I guess, rules are not that good, after all.

One hundred

2008-06-18T20:14:00.005+08:00

Today marks the centenary celebration of the University of the Philippines. And I must say that I’m wholly overjoyed and flattered to be part of this momentous (literally once-in-a-lifetime) occasion and be one among the crowd to sing the beloved university, a happy birthday.

Rightfully so, everything is in hundred. One hundred notable UP personalities, one hundred balloons, one hundred fireworks display, and in the end, one hundred men with nothing but masks on to cover their whole life and awareness. Naked, boy! Haha…

Ever heard of the Oblation Run? Yes, the one and the same.

Not everybody I suppose understand the concept behind this naked-running, or streaking some may say. But I prefer it to be called as an expression.

An expression of political statements and protests against the system. A line of attack to communicate the sentiments of the people about the heaving political and economical condition of the country. A statement of sort, that is significant and not just what others may deem to say a fleeting lapse of sanity.

It is so more than a meaningless parade of the participants’ anatomical whatever, if some people see it that way.

On their first run ever, the runners, they had a cause: to protest the banning of the movie, “Hubad na Bayani” (Naked Hero) which portrayed human rights abuses during the Marcos regime around the 70’s.

Today, they still do: to petition for the state subsidies to the students’ education and to dissent the commercialization of UP. So, how’s that for a purpose?

And they say it’s publicity stunt. Give me a break.

Blah

2008-06-17T02:37:00.006+08:00

A friend of mine sent me this text message and I couldn’t help but laugh… Wouldn’t you?

Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and her family riding on an airplane.

GMA: What if I throw one check worth a million pesos out of the window to make at least one Filipino happy?

Mike Arroyo: Honey, why not throw two checks worth half a million pesos to make two Filipinos happy?

Luli Arroyo: Mom, why not throw four checks worth quarter of a million to make four Filipinos happy?

GMA’s granddaughter: Grandma, why not throw yourself out of the window to make a million Filipinos happy?

*-*-*-*-*-*

So, am I the only one excited about this book or what?

*-*-*-*-*-*

I have an announced quiz on French class later today. Just saying.

Firsts

2008-06-16T23:13:00.022+08:00

(nicked this pic from the yoopee website)

I'm feeling the centennial spirit tonight so I compelled on making a list of my memorable firsts in the university:

1. My first class ever was Kasaysayan 1, Section MHU4, MTh 10:00 a.m. – 11:30 a..m. with Sir Xiao :) Damn, I forgot our room number.

2. During my first Ikot ride, I was so terrified I thought I was lost when it made its route to KNL. I reckoned I was at the wrong jeep since the surrounding then wasn’t so campus-like as I saw town houses instead of college buildings.

3. Aly, Nique and Kristine were my first college friends. We were in this block gathering at Quezon Hall, sitting together at the stairs all the while waiting for our turn in the food, haha.

4. Greenshoppe at SC was the very first computer rental shop I went to, and it had been my favorite ever since. Nothing to complain about (yet?).

5. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to attend to the Fresh to Play concert for freshies during my time. My parents were being parents by not allowing me to, thinking that it was such a chaotic and precarious affair. For the record, I thought otherwise. And for the record again, I was proven otherwise :p

6. My first embarrassing moment happened during my Lawn Tennis class. I was doing my backhand swings against my partner when the sole from my left shoe split up.

7. The very first UP academic book I purchased was Adhika’s Kasaysayang Bayan from the Department of History :)

8. My first Toki ride was not until the second semester of my first year. I managed to get by without it during the first term since I didn’t have any Math subjects then. (Yes, I have this weird notion that Toki and Math are coexistent)

9. The very first meal I had during my first day was a Chickenjoy takeout from Jollibee Philcoa. Oh, and fries, too. Two large.

10. And the most pleasurable of all…my first oblation run experience as an onlooker! I have nothing but one word for it:

BOLD!

Whatever that means ;) Rest assured that my mind went to the gutter, bwahahaha.

P.S. Happy Centennial, isko and iska!

Feast of St. Anthony of Padua

2008-06-15T23:06:00.022+08:00

Last Friday was our town feast. And for the first time ever, I wasn’t home to celebrate it with the family since I was still at the university. I didn’t come home until around nine in the evening and by that time, there was nothing left to indicate the festivity that had been, other than the expected traffic, empty dishes and dirty plates. It was a little bit melancholic to be honest especially when there used to be a time that friends and classmates would come over to indulge to the surfeit of foods not to mention the later talkathons and fair enjoyments. But that was before college.

This time around, not only had I lost my visitors but I, myself, had missed the most part of the feast day. The point in which the activities and frivolities proved to be most exciting and filling: the fair, carnival, bargain shops, fireworks display and all sort of contests, shows and amateurs for all ages and whatever sexes. Although the way I had observed it over the years, it was either the little kiddies’ musical show or the gay beauty pageant that always evoke the greatest kind of delight and the loudest round of applause from the audience.

But town feast is not purely a social occasion of merrymaking for it is also a religious event just as much. A time for thanksgiving and glorification to the town’s patron saint (St. Anthony of Padua) as a sign of gratitude for all the life’s blessings. And that’s when the abundance of foods comes into play to make the affair an unforgettable one. For a day, it is an open-house for everybody where foods and drinks are shared by everyone regardless if you’re family or not.

Such a simple, selfless fun on a festive day, typical in a small Filipino town.

A once-a-year cultural celebration and tradition to which—I had shamefully missed.

But I need not to cry buckets yet for I was still lucky enough to have witnessed the Karakol, the morning after.

Karakols (Filipino street dancing) are always fun to watch, something not to be missed if possible.

So Saturday morning came, I bolted out of the bed just right on time to witness one.

Loud but harmonic bands of drums and other percussions led the crowd as they marched through the streets. They previewed for the onlookers various Filipino songs ranging from the old folk Bahay Kubo down to the popular novelty, Itaktak mo. Then, dancing to the beat and queuing on the street, were the townspeople, girls and boys, young and old alike. They came in groups, all so beautifully dressed, next to the image of St. Anthony of Padua, which was also paraded before them as part of the custom. People danced and cheered to the end, satisfied and gratified, at ease and at bliss.

P.S. I know, the photos aren't all that good. Crappy angles. As much as I love the camera, so it seems that the camera doesn't love me back, so just bear with me on this one, please ;p

Old man and the pen

2008-06-12T19:24:00.009+08:00

More often than not, professors don’t make their appearance until the second day, or even if they did so in the first day it’s rather brief and mainly consisted of the introduction part, syllabus-explaining/form-5 checking-part and if in case you would take a leak for a good five minutes, your return afterwards would just be in time to see that it’s already the goodbye-see-you-next-meeting-part.

There are, however, exceptional cases when the professor would make his grand entrance, very prompt and very prim…and very famous!

My exceptional case happened during my TTh 2:30 p.m.-4:00 p.m. class. Anna, Ronn, Marc, Joy and I were all chatting, having our own games of speculations and expectations. Suddenly, Marc gasped aloud, and his “Oh my god!” was the last thing I heard before in walked the Penman himself!

I was literally starstrucked! He’s a very swell looking old man whose mere pace commands natural respect and positive reception. He’s got this very peaceful and light aura in him that for the splittest of a second I honestly thought that there's no way in the bloody freakin' hell he's real. I mean, the Penman! All live and flesh in front of me and he’s going to teach us for the whole semester! It took every ounce of my breathing to not hyperventilate as I processed the information. Gaaah...

It felt so regal to know that the man who seems to exist only on his authored papers, published books and sometimes television appearances was just in the same room as I was and not the usual spectrum media away. And he’s our professor! Awww.

Back to uni

2008-06-10T18:57:00.001+08:00

First days are usually uneventful…and short.

Dead and smelly

2008-06-09T04:25:00.011+08:00

To-do list:

1. Research a little bit to prepare myself for French class

2. Call Ghie

3. Pack up some stitch of clothing good for one week

4. Burn an audio cd for Patrick (containing ai7 songs as requested)

5. Put the itunes installer to Issa’s flash drive

6. Get some sleep, you freak!

7. Take a bath

It’ past 3 am now while I’m typing this and it just occurred to me that I only have approximately eight hours left before I take off for the university. Sad, vacation has already ended. But I’m excited nevertheless. Actually, it’s unusual for me to feel this optimistic during a new term, but hey, it’s all-good! I have plans…lots and lots of them and hopefully I would be able to stick to them for as long as I could and if it’s not asking too much, then maybe accomplish all of them too…with flying colors, haha :)

Oh and speaking of taking a bath, I was reading some online articles earlier today and I came across this one which informs the readers that not taking a bath could be fatal. I know, sounds pretty grave, huh?

Naturally, not taking a bath can cause a person to itch a lot since the environment plays host to various species of bacteria and fungi that are known for delivering bites; now these bites are the one notorious for the itchy feel, thus causing the person to engage in an inevitable scratching frenzy. Ideally, the itch can be easily treated with a simple over-the-counter ointment and in no time, it will subside. However, there are rare ~~but still existing~~ cases that when a person scratch so much, the skin’s surface breaks. And this is not good. What if there are some serious bacteria hanging around the person's skin’s surface (the example given was staphylococcus). Through the open scratches, the staph can enter the bloodstream easily and wreak havoc on the system and so that’s when it gets fatal. Worst case scenerio: death

...corpse. morgue. goner. bye bye world.

So, having said all of that, yes, expect me to take a bath before I leave because dead-and-smelly-Annel is the furthest thing of a label I would like to have for myself thank you very much.

Bike and fries

2008-06-08T18:31:00.012+08:00

Crazy cool, my mom finally got me a bike! And a pink one at that! I’ve been pestering her to buy me one since last month and just when I was extremely sure I wouldn’t have it this time around, she redeemed herself and surprised me with this very pink and über-chic bicycle! woot wooot!

We drove downtown to pick it up right after lunch. It was only her and me in the car, one of those mother/daughter things that we rarely do nowadays. Anyhow, I seemed to be on a roll today since after purchasing the bike, she even treated me with my favorite snack. (and to think that we just ate lunch then…haha) lucky lucky lucky.

favorite snack = french fries ; french fries = happy Annel.

See, I’m easily pleased. Just give me something-anything pink ~~hell, give me a pink wig and I wouldn't mind it one bit~~ then add a little chow of fries while you’re at it and voila! we’re so going to be BFF! ;p

Reasonable friends

2008-06-07T16:31:00.014+08:00

I was at the mall the other day when I saw this real charming flash drive at Cd-r King. It’s very tiny and neat and snazzy, and better still, it’s PINK! You should have seen my reaction when I laid eyes upon that little bugger, haha. I just wanted to break down the cover glass and snatch that thing, run away from the mall as fast as my scrawny legs can carry me and then perhaps live under the rock for a day or two to avoid the cops...And I’m not klepto!

Seriously! I was awfully close to buying that if not for my friends who reproached me with their creepy narrowed eyes ~~which greatly reminded me of JT’s~~, how I was being an impulsive shopper. They had to drag me out of the store and provide me some other distractions (“how about some DQ?”) because I swear my spirit was gravely injured. They had to remind me that I still have two working and efficient flash drives, not to mention my ipod, which can be used for the same functionality. Argh! why oh why do they have to be so reasonable?! Grrrrrrrrrr….

Here’s the pqi flash drive I was (and still am!) crazy about:

What a stunner, yes?

I have been tortured enough, so for the sake of my peace-of-mind and sanity, I am soooo going to buy that pqi next week! Screw my friends and their reasonableness.

Jollibee or McDo?

2008-06-06T15:31:00.005+08:00

Have I told you before that my favorite food in the whole wide world is french fries? No? Well, it is! Passing by at Jollibee or McDonald's to grab a chow of fries is a definite must for me. Although if possible, I prefer the Jollibee fries a whole lot better than that of McDonald’s. I’m such a fries-obsessed parasite (and putting the it’s-a-matter-of-preference-crap aside), take it from the master when she says that the potato strips of Jollibee are waaay tastier and crispier, yes. (Jollibee should really pay me for this advertisement).

Even McDonald’s hash brown, I don’t really see what’s with the big fuss because I honestly am not digging it. (lol, peace, don't sue me).

I remember this one time when my friend called for a McDo delivery (it was our last resort since the Jollibee hotline was busy). After ten years, the delivery guy brought us the lankiest and pastiest fries that ever existed!…boy, I’m telling you it was daylight poisoning!

bad bad bad bad me.

You see here in our country, Jollibee and McDo have this bit of rivalry going on. Their branches are always one after the other that when you see a McDonald's in a certain area, I would bet all of my ~~fictional~~ savings that Jollibee is not more than twenty feet away. They’re two sneaky bastards that wouldn’t let each other out of their sights for fear of one outselling the other. Lovely…just lovely.

Anyway, I’m eating french fries right now as I type. My mom was kind enough to buy me my usual two large fries and a coke for snacks. Nice lady, my mom, haha. She always makes it a point to get me my fave every time she drives downtown.

P.S. If it’s any consolation to Ronald McDonald, I worshippp his orange juice ;p

Poor girl

2008-06-05T23:14:00.009+08:00

There was this girl who lives in a town so remote that power outage occurs almost on a daily basis (well, not really…but still…). One morning she woke up feeling hopeful that she’d be able to accomplish all her plans for the day when suddenly BAAAM! Power gone!

To say that she was crushed was a gross understatement. So to save herself from a doomed misery, she looked for something to feed her mind and pass the time. Only to her utmost horror, she found no good-read-books in the house because she unfortunately lent them to her friends fe w weeks ago. In other words, the girl deprived of resources, was all ready to curl up and die lonely and wretched. She even got as far as to think of strangling her own neck but her tiny, well not really tiny but more like ineffectual hands wouldn’t allow her to get a perfect grasp of it for the murderous motive to materialize. Consequently, she didn’t die ~~of course~~ but rather ended up doing nothing but to rot in vain until the power was restored seven awful hours later...

Wow, that’s sucky. I pity the girl for the day she spent wallowing into a heap of nothingness and imposed idleness. She didn’t accomplish anything. So her day was WASTED!

Crème de la crème

2008-06-04T23:28:00.009+08:00

Every time I encounter a French word, I tend to just shut up and nosebleed silently on my own rather than to read the word aloud for fear of embarrassment by mispronunciation. That’s why I was ecstatic when I finally got enlisted to a French class this semester! Whoopee!

It’s just a basic French course. While I don’t expect that I'd be able to construct a beautifully made multi-paged essay in full French by the end of the sem (although that’s a lovely idea to be reckoned with if I would), at least I have my hopes up that I’d finally be proficient enough to read the hemorrhage-inducing words correctly and somehow know the essentials of the language.

I’m thrilled! It’s the subject that I’m most looking forward to attend to on Tuesday which is our first day back at the uni. I still haven’t got a clue who would be my professor. But I’m keeping my fingers crossed that (s)he would be equally funny and clever. I said funny because I don’t particularly like the profs falling under the ‘terror category’. I don’t find such profs’ acerbic disposition challenging or charming because instead of putting me at ease to learn the craft, they rather give me the creeps, making me conscious-bad. Being strict I don’t mind, but being ~~evil~~ mean is a completely different story.

Regardless. Excellent mood puts me in a similarly optimist spirit. So tonight, I have nothing but positivity that on Tuesday, the professor to grace our classroom would be the funniest and the cleverest thing ever :)

A state of elated bliss

2008-06-04T21:37:00.003+08:00

As of 2:00:48 PM today…I was officially enrolled!

Yay!

JOY unspeakable!

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Queues and all

2008-06-03T21:21:00.026+08:00

Exhausting and terribly so. That about sums up the day I just had. It’s our first day of enrollment, in case you’re wondering. And as per usual, my dearly loved yoopee would not be the same much without all of those effin’ (it’s sexier without the g) queues, students have to endure every single day of the registration period.

And I’m not complaining!

… I arrived oh-so fashionably late, I ended up being so far behind my friends on the lines.

… I only had nine units of the supposedly eighteen.

… I forgot my ever-so-vital TCG (true copy of grades) at home. And had to face grave consequences.

… All the departments I had to go through were actually full and bursting that I could possibly die of asthma attack right then and there.

… The weather was soo impossibly hot, it’s 36 freakin’ degrees Celsius!

Nope, that’s not me complaining. That’s me stating a yoopee student’s way of life. (and errr yes, a little bit of complaining too, if I’m being honest)

The lines are endless; the crs is bitchy (err, lack of better word), some of the staff are in fact snappy, even the electric fans are scanty (wow, that’s random)…

All in all, it’s a little dose of momentary stupidity and HUGE ladle of enrollment cruelties.

The latter being a part of the bargain and you can’t help it so you just learn to live with it.

Yes you complain a lot (you’re human and you’re frustrated) but you don’t really hate it. Because hating it would be as good as to hating yoopee and hating yoopee is just plain hypocritical and ungrateful and unacceptable.

And sometimes you find yourself denying it as much as you could, but really, deep down, you love yoopee to death, warts and all, queues and all.

*nothing follows* *too tired to add some more* *stop talking to me* *me going to bed, bye*

P.S. 1 - And how on earth did I end up speaking in the second person?!

P.S. 2 - What a cheesy entry this turned out to be <_<

P.S. 3 - Unfortunately for me, I still haven't finished my enrollment fully. Need to go back there again and fall inline and fall inline and fall inline and fall inline again...have I already mentioned fall inline? Yes, single file only.

*nothing follows (this time it's for real)* *too tired to add some more* *stop talking to me* *me going to bed, bye*

All the time in the world

2008-06-02T16:19:00.009+08:00

Ever since last semester, I had been meaning to make a ‘bio’ that I could post on my multiply site... only I didn't have too much time to spare, then. So, when the first opportune of summer break chanced on, I eventually took some effort to make one; just a simple, some kind of filler to the incessant about-me-box on my homepage, which would have been doleful and bleak if left unfilled. But now almost two months later, I noticed that there is already the need for me to revise that ‘bio’, and quick! since some of the things I mentioned then, are no longer appropriate and relevant at the present time. And to think that it has only been a month and a half, to be precise! Apparently, time is always in haste and hurry especially if you have a full-time job as a laze all summer long, as is mine.

At any rate, here’s my bio:

Annel was born January 24, 1990, in Maragondon, Cavite, a far far far far far away town, just a couple of blocks away from kingdom-come. She was joined 12 years later by brother AJ, a.k.a The Family Favourite. At M.P.S., she finished elementary years with her most memorable experience of being reprimanded by the adviser for doing the unthinkable of climbing a tree all by herself.

Later on, she was enrolled at Cavite National Science High School where she met her incredibly kick-ass friends a.k.a Noneym; they pretty much spent their time eating and laughing...and laughing and eating...in an attempt to abide by their precept of "Eat, drink and be happy for tomorrow we shall eat again!".

At present, Annel is studying at the University of the Philippines in Diliman, with no choice but to board and lounge at the most chic, posh, classy, glamorous, you name it, whatever-whatever blah blah boarding house ever built in the city.

She spends most of her time in the CAL Library now. But before you jump to a hasty conclusion that she's one studious doll, no, not quite, especially if what she has is just an ulterior, very dark and dirty evil motive of merely taking advantage of the comfort of the bookroom that's made even more attractive by the newly-installed aircons.

Initially, she used to pass her time hanging out with friends at FC Galeria 2, a.k.a The Epistaxis Tambayan (officialized as theirs solely by the geographical concept of territoriality), but because of the abhorrent and asthma-causing paint smell coming from the nearby Carlos P. Romulo Hall, she, along with her friends, has no choice but to move to the CAL Library (told you so!).

Annel, to her immense relief, is currently on her summer break, although unfortunately she's broke and peso-less as we speak, her Epistaxis friends partly to blame for that because of their constant trips to Trinoma and DQ and other none too cheap diners. But at least, given her vacation and all, she has all the time in the world now to rationalize her enormously stupid idea of taking Folk Dancing as her last PE, despite the glaringly harsh reality that she’s born with two left feet.

--finitto--

There the last paragraph is somewhat wide of the mark. Summer break is ending in a week’s time, so, disappointingly, I no longer have ‘all the time in the world’ as I previously claimed so. University is now screaming hard right onto my face to get my lazy arse out of the bed and away from the computer, and start opening [academic] books, instead. Ekkk :/