be adelic

after-shock art

2012-02-07T09:20:00.003+08:00

Made this last night while waiting for some after shocks :)

art therapy does wonders to a worried soul, ei?

Er, this proves I'm not good with duplications. Hehe

sketchy outbursts 2

2012-02-06T08:20:00.002+08:00

sketchy outbursts

2012-02-05T08:41:00.008+08:00

Nag-untat kita sa tunga

sang mga sining kakahuyan

kag mamati sa ragitnit sang kawayan

nga aton ginatungtungan

kag magtangla sa inggat

sang mga bituon

sa kalangitan.

This is just a part of a page where I've been working on several sketchy poems in the last few days. Supposedly, poems should not be paired with illustrations (unless you're doing poetry for kids and probably for those who need visuals as a guide to form imageries in their minds) but since there has been a series of literary and visual outbursts in my system lately, I dropped the rule and just went on with the alternation of the brush and the pen. More of this when I have a stable net connection. :)

unloading

2012-02-03T09:39:00.001+08:00

OMG. I'm unloading stuff again through poetry! Yay! Hail to the literary slapping from The Butch Dalisay in Talisay last week! Hail to my literary muses who woke up from a deep slumber! Hail to my Creator!

My sketchy poems are still on a sketchbook page. Will upload them after sometime. I've never felt this literary happy for a long time. Thank you gid, Lord.

can't stop the world

2012-01-31T20:22:00.003+08:00

Four days ago

Met Butch Dalisay, one of my favorite literary columnists; felt nauseous before leaving Talisay to catch the "last and only" seajet to Iloilo. only to find out that it was two hours after the time the clueless operator told me. I thought the two-scoop ice cream and a soothing foot massage can make me feel better but it put me to two days of nerve-wracking migraine, left me bedridden, eyes closed, almost acting the blind in me but since the world will not stop, oh it will never, it slashed me off two days from my salary... but I was kinda happy.

This morning

Went to the friendliest eye doctor in the city and after putting my eyes through a series of machines, he told me it's just stress and drink the costly tablets for a minimum of three days. But if the pain persists, he urged me to see a neurologist. I was like, "damn, I'm too young to get blind - though I'm almost one - and too redundant to be assessed with some kind of neurosis. but the world will not stop for my pondering, I just had to buy and pop the pills and go home.... but I was kinda happy.

Tomorrow

Nanay's leaving us for another six months again and the world will not stop this from happening... and I am kinda sad.

dyahe maging hs adviser

2012-01-28T01:00:00.003+08:00

'Coz I have to make sure my girls get enough sleep, drink their meds, eat their food. And I think my almost annoying queries on schedules, time and even room arrangement (I had to request that we stay in one room 'coz my girls are minority reports) made the organizers assume I'm an on-the-job training for being a spinster, killjoy, whateveryoucallit (or feel ko lang, assuming daan ako much).

Yep, dyahe but I don't mind doing these yayabel things because these girls are worth it. I just wish I have a remote control to minimize their noises (gash, I'm indeed in my mid-20s).

inner porcupine

2012-01-26T23:09:00.004+08:00

while the girls went on to participate in a fellowship challenge, I happily sneaked into Lola HPV's room (because she's one of the speakers). Over a wonderfully-made organic chicken salad and after some minutes of me gushing over how I really believe that it one of our speakers is Bob Ong (more on this "investigative reporting" later - as my students would put it), we talked about one's hubris. Reflecting on it, I realized that there are instances that I would be maximizing it because I needed to - especially in situations where people would underestimate me because of many reasons. I have to be this porcupine - seemingly cute but dangerous. But I also noted that it is not good to be intentionally arrogant or mean. Now, I'm a bit torn. Ohmayghulay. Sabi ko nga, I'm no saint. Siguro, bawas-bawasan ko na lang ang hubris ko as defense mechanism para hindi naman "sila" ma-offend masyado, ano? Kaya inner porcupine, just keep still in there. Maybe I should only choose the battles where you'll be my grenade.

*babysitting in Nature's Village, Talisay, Negros Occidental

Preparing to leave The Familiar

2012-01-18T08:45:00.004+08:00

You see, this book I'm rereading the past few nights is telling me that I am in a place called The Familiar and for 26 years, I've been only out of my comfort zone during "phases" of many kinds. To Dr. Seuss, The Familiar is the Land of Waiting - waiting for all kinds of things to happen, including the moment where nothing happens.

The two books, together with the tiny voice in my heart, have been urging me to leave The Familiar. I had thoughts on this years ago, when I was still working for a local paper. I constantly pushed the ideas aside because I was afraid of:

* financial discomfort

* emotional setbacks (was thinking if making real friends is hard in one's hometown, how much more in a foreign country?)

* Failure to practice familial responsibility

* rejections to decrease passion to reach the Big Dream

Now, I realized that I still encountered the above-mentioned reasons without leaving The Familiar. And so after much deliberation (from personal to familial to occupation technicalities), I have decided to do what I should have done a long time ago - may it be after several months or years. I had a talk with my mother (conversation with my father will follow soon; sad over this thought though) and we have one deal before I step out of The Familiar and into the life without government benefits, do away with the vanity of putting academic titles after my name, and wearing weather-challenged uniforms.

When this time comes, I will be a confirmed quitter forever to those who have been faithfully following my erratic career path. But I know in God's eyes, I will be a servant who did something with the talents He gave me in this lifetime.

And I cannot wait to leave The Familiar.

take a deeeeeeeeeeeep breath

2012-01-11T11:19:00.002+08:00

Dr. Seuss said the world is waiting for me. But let's end the wait soon. The book Dream Giver says it's time. May God bless me.

Review: 11 awesome things I did/learned/discovered/lost in 2011

2012-01-03T11:12:00.011+08:00

1 Out-of-town trips with high school and elementary friends

I believe that the best way to: a. bond, b. get to know another earthling, c. explore the world is through physical adventure! Not minding my finances (which I hope will lessen this year though), out-of-town trips with friends from elementary and high school (and new acquaintances) revealed a lot of observations and lessons - though most of the things I learned are about me (like the desire to travel alone is not just a wish, but a must-do!, menstrual periods can ruin the trip --- 'coz I almost did, group tours are great when you do not have the luxury of time but a bit pricey though, and I'm 75% paranoid for a traveler). I also relearned that instant or on-the-spot travels cost some savings.

2 Professed bottled-up affections to someone

This was a first in my history and thank God I didn’t die (hahaha). And to that someone, couldn't say more but thank you for all - and sorry if I did scare you or whatever. You now fall under my "dream guy" category, next to the "One". Lol.

3 Passed TOEFL

Just happy to pass this exam sponsored by a company, with a high score in writing. It's the only validation and redemption I have with this skill polished by time, underestimated yet feared by many. Kinda proud of it.

4 Have an awesome group of kids in the school pub

Our paper's bit late for last year but I could say it's better than the previous issue! Couldn't have done it without these kids whose energy and kaartihan (nagmana ata sa adviser) is limitless.

5 Tired of being a rebound friend

Wispiok.

6 Paid some dues

I hope I will not die overbroke.

7 Made my bro eat my home-cooked experiments

Cooking simple meals pala is just easy as a-b-c. I was an idiot for not learning how to read recipes in the past, and a lazy daisy for not facing the jumping oil bubbles (or whatever you call it).

8 Snubbed by the muse of painting

Result of a year spent on writing sugar-coated oration pieces.

9 Lost and regained appetite for reading novels

Aside from the above mentioned, I also recovered my finding powers at Booksale after months of dry spell, and recently found a Banana Yoshimoto novel (been dreaming of owning a book but it's very expensive), another Far Side for the collection, and Stargirl, a simple book that speaks more of simplicity. Also, I'd like to thank Nong Gil for the David Sedaris (yes, the first essay sent me laughing - as you have warned me) and Ronnie for Gaiman's Stardust (seems I have an issue-relationship with stars all these years).

10 Jogging is addicting

I've avoided jogging since I thought catching one's breath was torture; but recently I discovered that it is indeed addicting. Addicting than aerobics. Now, once or twice a week of running gives me a different high. Thanks to my jogging mate, Jee, for meeting me halfway.

11 Rediscovered that I am and will die an artist

Enough said. Only God knows why.

dear 2012

2012-01-02T15:02:00.003+08:00

i always write you new years a letter - pleading that the coming days will be great, merciful, kind but i'm getting tired of that. this year, let's try to live each day in reflection, laughter and creativity. don't be kind to me, if you need to. i need all the rough pages in my history. after all, bumps are required if i'm some diamond in the works. introduce me to all kinds of human beings, so my life will be one crazy fiction if i relay it to my future kids and grandkids (you know, something like in the movie "Big Fish").

2012, just be yourself to me. I really don't mind now.

2011-12-17T22:20:00.006+08:00

I just found out a student "lost" a valuable autographed comic book. It was devastating, really. I realized, in the middle of a brewing anger, that we people tend to lose what we have borrowed or what we have been entrusted - it could be a paintbrush, an accessory, a clothing, moments, memories, ideas, talks, musings, feelings, hearts, bodies.

shhhhhhhh

2011-12-14T22:22:00.002+08:00

Sa mga nagtalang:

Welcome.

Enjoy your stay.

And shut up.

Hahahaha!

sponging off

2011-12-10T00:08:00.002+08:00

Dear people, I'm not your sponge bob or that band-aid solution from the first-aid kit. So if you can just stop needing/wanting me for some reason - especially if all of your forever friends are busy, I'll appreciate and consider it a holiday gift.

Thank you.

Sponging off,

Your occasional grinch

getting what we want, but not what we need

2011-12-07T13:48:00.003+08:00

"We get what we want, but not what we need..."

Got this line from one of the recent Glee episodes and I couldn't help pondering on it since last night. I now have the things I just wished to acquire years ago but most of the time, I know this is not what I really need.

What I need is unexplainable, unfathomable, unthinkable. But for human comprehension, it can be labeled "peace"- of mind, of heart, of soul.

It's still a long journey.

how to get real

2011-12-07T12:23:00.003+08:00

"Get real."

I was told this a couple of times a few nights ago when I started semi-panicking about the noises in the other room of our hotel.

I was thinking about gruesome fist fights and soon-to-be bloody murders and my friends were thinking about couples having rough sex. And they told me to get real - because it's the reality most of us either casually embrace, or ignore (in their eyes, I may be this naive, ignorant virgin because I was just reacting according to my reality too). I was a little bit irritated.

I grew up in a restricted violent environment - murders, guns, convicts, prisons, cases, brutality. I know my friends have also their versions of reality - abused children, financial alterations and stories about sex, sex and sex. I've seen and heard stories about the field but my reality is soaked with morbidity.

So if you see me nervous when I see leather stuff and sharp things on intimate places, I think of murder, not rough sex. Or maybe because I do not see sex that way (and that's my fault?)

So this is how I get real.

things that keep me positively insane

2011-12-06T14:33:00.004+08:00

#1 School Pub

Surprisingly, the school pub has a population of one classroom - too many for a high school newspaper. But I do not mind at all. I have great kids (and great kids need a lot of pushing, reminding, and texting because they do not usually embrace their greatness!).

Yeah, it's great to make themselves proud, Minerva prouder, and our Creator the proudest. And of course, their fake mommies too.

P.S. This is one of the busiest and craziest years the pub has. I just labeht (I hope they do too!). :D

theater scares me

2011-12-06T11:51:00.006+08:00

Last Friday before going on a weekend clueless trip, Lola HPV almost dragged me to watch a string of plays by the Little Theater, one of the artistic gems of University of San Agustin. The vignettes revolved around the issues our country is facing while connecting it to Jose Rizal's novels El Filibusterismo and Noli Me Tangere. Though it was not for the faint hearted, it could drown a strong soul in the sea of depression and loneliness. But plays as such would drive the thinkers, movers and shakers into creating something - something vague but important. Malalim ang paghuhugutan nito. Thus, it would take some time to give an image, a form, a word, a slogan to what I'm talking about. This could be expressed into advocacies and drives, but there's more to it.

A good play scares the hell out of me. It scares the hell out of me because the stage only reflects reality, and real life is scarier.

P.S. Nahidlaw na gid ako sa pagsulat sang mga binalaybay, sugilanon kag ano-ano pa. Forgive me but I'm a bit fed up of writing pretentious oration pieces. The money is there, and of course, the glory (glory to what?) but my heart's not just in it.

And when we lose heart in the things we do, we create mere "requirements" out of tired passion, instead of artworks as extensions of ourselves.

drive me to write poems this weekend

2011-12-02T13:34:00.004+08:00

It’s a lonely road out there we’re all just waiting
For these answers that may never come our way
So we hold on to each other
Hoping to find what’s missing
A million more questions by the end of the day
Earlier today, I printed copies of old poems and distributed it to class. T'was funny how they reacted to Hiligaynon poetry. But I do not know if they've read, or at least seen or felt the gnawing and hanging heavy emotions in the edges of the words. After all, those are poems on pain.

Oh how I miss poetry.

testing2x

2011-11-29T13:51:00.000+08:00

Wahahaha... Halatang amateur... pati ngalan "sequence 1" lol... geh lang :D

But what I've realized when I was shooting this, the dormant passion for documentary was just waiting to be awakened. On the other hand, it's still quite hard to shoot in the streets if you're female but I do not want to think that the passageways are gender biased. I believe in time I can be friends with the streets, with my city, with the world.

Aja!

forward march

2011-11-28T08:52:00.003+08:00

I believe that even "the worst and the weird" can bring an organization to a better form, if not the best. Congrats to the talented and driven batch of The Ilonggo for winning first place in the recent Campus Blog Awards of Smart, PIA-6 and Journ.ph!

be still, proud heart

2011-11-08T00:02:00.000+08:00

Even if it would take sometime, Sisa the starfish believes that God heals hearts - wicked hearts, lustful hearts, angry hearts, envious hearts, stone hearts, passive hearts, proud hearts. And one of the ways to do that is trying to detach what makes our hearts as they are in the moment, look and feel the hollow ground made by sadness, longing, greed, and empty it all - these particles of emptiness.

For the meantime, Sisa advices this proud heart to step back and look at her self in a jar. It can still heal. It will heal.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures,

he leads me beside quiet waters,

he restores my soul.

(Psalm 23:1-3)

patatas makes a comeback

2011-11-07T18:39:00.004+08:00

Patatas love is back.

This creature first appeared three years ago in this entry. Forgive its musings. In some future entries, it will be joined by a new creature, Sisa, the starfish. Together, they will explore the unconscious of this blogger... Only they are brave enough to traverse a difficult mind.

2011-11-07T14:08:00.000+08:00

“When you're lost in those woods, it sometimes takes you a while to realize that you are lost. For the longest time, you can convince yourself that you've just wandered off the path, that you'll find your way back to the trailhead any moment now. Then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are, and it's time to admit that you have bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don't even know from which direction the sun rises anymore.”

― Elizabeth Gilbert

Powtek... Na-miss ko na ang gumala.

unlikely vacation

2011-11-03T15:41:00.002+08:00

Spending time at home this sembreak’s not my idea of a vacation. Just the thought of it made my insides twitch. Since it’s unavoidable, I spent the break mostly in the comforts of my bedroom, where borrowed dvds and back issues of different publications accompanied me. And it hit me: I was avoiding my bedroom because it has accumulated a lot of solid, both ephemeral and transcending memories – days inconsistently and helplessly trapped in the coarse surface of watercolor papers, moments stitched in the clothes I wore with particular persons, soles of walking shoes with imaginary meter counter and pavement recognition program, songs that translate best most unspoken words, and books in which the contents may have been subjects of intellectual and psychological conversations.

I think I may have collected much about me in a short time, but I also think these things, these memories do not really belong to me but they own me. I am at the mercy of these mental stills and recordings but I know someday I will be free. And freedom needs to start with a broom and a dustpan.

curtain falls

2011-11-03T07:52:00.000+08:00

funny

2011-09-19T16:17:00.001+08:00

I can't even write here what I really want. I can't even skillfully hide it in tweets or fb statuses. Maybe I don't have the words for this. Funny.

on writing

2011-09-12T16:46:00.005+08:00

"Writing, like any other work, is a profession and must be approached as such. It is a mistake to think that an intellectual movement requires some special duty or self-sacrificial effort on your part. It requires something much more difficult: a profound conviction that ideas are important to you and to your own life. If you integrate that conviction to every aspect of your life, you will find many opportunities to enlighten others."

-Ayn Rand, "What One Can Do?" from Philosophy: Who Needs It

*for my writing muse who is tired of the non-stop grind of oration pieces here and there; hang on, dear... don't give up on me...

mercato bcg

2011-09-07T09:26:00.004+08:00

A Dos Henerasyon Adventure

headache therapy

2011-09-06T12:56:00.002+08:00

Just stayed home for the day. Crazy headache dampens productivity, but an equally-crazy book and a book toy ease the pain. :) Loving William M. Rodriguez II's Adik sa Facebook and the LAST P99 book lamp from Powerbooks MoA (hahaha! tikalon ah!) Just happy 'coz it's so cheap! (The book, by the way, is only less than P90!)

Okay. 'Yun lang. :)

2011-09-01T11:33:00.003+08:00

I always adore parents who give presence and support to their children in school activities. Of course, this is very ideal but seem unrealistic to other people - well, including my parents. I could not blame them because they were working hard for us. But for me, I hope I'll be there to cheer for my future daughter during softball tryout or inspect my son's costume for an upcoming play. Don't get me wrong as I do not also want to be a stage mom or my husband to be a body guard; independence is one of my goals as a future parent (I remember "Martian Child"). I just want to be there in the crucial stages of their life. :)

*Char. This is just one of those VERY random posts.

for the love of Pinoy games

2011-08-24T15:12:00.011+08:00

I never thought that I can inject playing tradition Filipino games in my classes - this was before when I was still a full-fledged English major. The idea occurred to me when last year during my first year in teaching the humanities, my students begged me to let them play the games we were discussing. Oo nga naman ano? Why not, coconut?

And so I waited for summer to end and the new academic year to begin to realize the inclusion of actual play in our discussion of Filipino games. I believe that experiences are one way to transmit and preserve a knowledge, or a culture, effectively.

And here's what happened last week:

PIKO aka Hopscoth

Reminiscing one's childhood can be fun

Some were first timers

Some were obvious veterans

It's great that our foreign exchange student knows her hopscotch well!

PATINTERO aka INS

the members of the it group listen to final instructions

It's her first time. 'Di halata na excited ano?

Let's play!

Yes, all these under a 1-pm sun.

What's for this week and the next? I can't wait.

awesome

2011-08-21T07:39:00.007+08:00

"Awesome" is one of the words that should be given some rest soon. Its role as an adjective has been transformed into an intensifier and a substitute to feelings - from so-so to extreme.

For others, this word has become a basis of choice, defines decisions and a measurement if one's life has centimeters, inches or feet of it. I couldn't help but think that we glam up, hype, fake whatever it is that we feel with selected "universal" words like awesome, epic, fail, whatever.

Awesome, right?

P.S. Just for the heck of word play, why can't we use "awe-full" (yes, I am fully aware that there's "aweful" and what it means) instead of "awesome" - when obviously full is stronger than some? XP

their turn

2011-08-15T14:45:00.003+08:00

Among all journalism workshops in the region, I give my three stars to that of the PIA done annually. And if I can just convince the school to support all my chikitings to attend it, I will but funds are still unavailable as of this writing. So this morning, it was again my turn to play "yaya" to the publication members and seeing Ma'am Subong brought back fond memories of my PIA days.

Oh, how I miss Silak.

But then that moment wasn't about me; it's theirs.

It's their turn to listen to specially selected speakers (not the ones you usually see and listen to during mass training), eat and judge hotel food, make friends and eye crushes from other schools, and give their best in individual and group competitions.

It's their turn to think what a worthy news is, what a feature story should relay, what a picture could convey.

It's their turn to appreciate journalism, and not just the merits of attending the seminar, the number of bylines published, or the fame of a year or two.

It's their turn.

turning eggs into chickens

2011-08-14T18:53:00.000+08:00

Not another egg.

I called zeroes “egg” and I was getting a lot of them when I was in high school. Eggs kept on hatching especially in my English and Creative Writing classes, aside from the regular cross outs and “x” marks. Then one day, I got fed up at the sight of my test notebooks becoming nests of numerical eggs and promised to the gods and goddesses of public schools that I will become a success. I vowed I shall never see an egg again.

On the last term of my junior year, I must have shocked my writing teacher Miss Hazel Villa when the eggs in my tests hatched into acceptable, if not high scores. I, on the other hand, surprised myself when she announced I got that year’s gold medal for writing.

From then on, I realized that the eggs do not determine one’s future. Instead, these are reminders that failures and challenges can still be turned into feats and accomplishments. At a young age, I thank God I knew how it felt like – to fail forward.

But I broke my promise. I was meant to see more eggs in my life. I could not take the egg incident out of my mind, which somehow hatched into the idea of me becoming an educator. For me, educators have the power to turn eggs into chicks – zeroes into 90s, slow children into coping ones, frustrating behaviors into impressive traits, and a rowdy classroom into a disciplined haven.

When I started teaching formally, I realized many people are like me – lives filled with “eggs”. And the more I encounter them, the more I recognize that I was born to guide those who have received eggs in their life. I believe I am destined to fuel up a potential to its fullest.

Destiny is not enough. I know there is this unexplainable drive in my heart to help individuals turn from being nobodies to somebodies. There is this willingness that pushes me to learn and share this knowledge to others.

I believe that my experiences and accomplishments as artist, writer and educator are not enough to turn a child’s life 180 degrees. To create an impact, I must convince those who undergo failures that having eggs in life is not the end but a beginning, a birth of something beautiful.

I have to convince them through me – a failure who failed forward, an egg who hatched into a chicken who is now warming some gold eggs to hatch.

*one of the many essays I passed for a scholarship

write new

2011-08-14T18:11:00.003+08:00

As an avid Sony Ericsson user, I love its "write new" rather than other phones' "create new message". And as I just finished typing the first sentence of this blog entry, I realized this is what I should be doing with this blogspot instead of planning to dump my "past" into the virtual garbage (although I fear if it's not me who will delete this bubble, someone will someday).

So let's "write new" - new life chapters, new experiences, new thoughts, new news. I have so many in mind I don't know where to start.

from the sabbatical leave

2011-08-14T11:25:00.003+08:00

When I closed down this spot around May this year, I did not consider reopening it since I created a new one for academic purposes (well, it's actually a 90-10 deal = 90% acads, 10% personal stuff). Many important things happened after, wherein most of these I failed to document = opening of the new school year, new students, July trips, celebration of years-long of friendships, compre and scholarships; of course, it wouldn't be fair if I tell you I do not have news about the confusions and intimations of my heart, and the new courses I'm considering with my life.

So I owe you some storytelling, my dear home of almost six years. And I cannot relay all in one sitting - er, writing. Let's take this slow, shall we? We'll do this over a cup of hot strawberry tea. :)

let this suffering be short

2011-05-18T07:17:00.003+08:00

should have listened to the brokenhearted. I shouldn't have let myself fall into the trap. But I did - willingly and now my heart is pickled in the memories that person and I shared. I am sorry I wasn't careful enough, I did not guard my heart. As much as I want to confess now what I feel for you, I can't. I can't just drag you into the world of assumptions I have opened again when I fell in love with you. I cannot destroy such beautiful friendship just because of what I feel. I'd rather suffer in silence and pray that this pain should be quick.

But if this person also feels the same way about me, I hope he finds me soon because I know myself too well. After a great pain, I know I can and will move on.

today, I woke up and realized that

2011-05-17T06:04:00.002+08:00

1. I can just stop hoping for something/someone/whatever because it will never be mine - because we cannot own things/people/places - we can just stamp ownership on it but just for a span of time.
2. I can still turn my frustrations into victories - and that I can't just give up.
3. I can still hurt the people I love with my principles - and that I couldn't just give in into theirs
4. I will suffer in the name of love, but let this be suffering short and sweet.
5. I can walk alone through the changing depths of time, but not lonely, bitter or desperate.
6. Life is still beautiful.

I am afraid...

2011-05-16T21:41:00.002+08:00

of what the future holds for me, but I'm equally excited to continue living life to the fullest.

a great week!

2011-05-15T08:48:00.003+08:00

1)~~go to a beach~~(05/12-14/11)
4) ~~unplanned picnic under any nice tree~~ (05/13/11)
6) ~~roadtrip outside Iloilo province~~ (05/12-14/11)
For these, I'd like to extend my super thanks to the Arana family (Ma'am Terry, Tin, Mike and Sir Edwin) for the great trip in Sibunag, Guimaras! I just love everything about the place - except for the charging part probably hehehe... I did things I haven't done in years - ligo sa bubon, hugas kamote (what??? hahaha), gamit kingke... Re-experiencing these things made me fall in love more with the rural life (I'll really become a farmer!!!)... I just love the beach, the picnic under that beautiful tree, the moment I fell asleep on the wide rock... It's just magic. Salamat gid.

17) ~~be someone’s boyfriend for a day~~ (05/14/11)
To give into people's long-time suspicion, Maia and I became a couple yesterday for a night, with Elgin as the unwilling chaperone hehehe... Then I turned into this emotional girlfriend hahaha... ginpanindugan ang role play! But I really appreciate these two freaks (peace) for the shoulders to cry on. Sorry gid... but I'm happy hours after the moment. Thank you also because you two acted like long-time friends, and thank you for being so brutally frank with me. Please tell Thor to crush my heart with his hammer, will you? Hahaha

20) ~~make someone cry~~

This is unfortunate because it's me. But as they say, "this too shall pass." I believe in that.

P.S. I only have 15 wishes to realize! Thank you friends for helping me out - hungod or indi hahaha!

Let's start moving on to another adventure.

dating your mom

2011-05-08T21:29:00.006+08:00

~~8. date my mother for a day or two~~

It's so great to be my mom's friend. I'm hoping to be her best. :)

parents on a successful marriage

2011-05-07T21:45:00.003+08:00

Capping off the celebration of their 31st year of marriage, my parents gamely answered my question as they prepared to sleep- "What's the secret of a successful marriage?" I know last year was a little rough for our family - especially for their relationship - but seeing them together as if it's just 2001 made us very, very happy (and me, inspired, haha). So according to my parents' experience, here are the secrets (damo sia gali, lol):

1. Don't bring your work home- if possible. (I couldn't remember Tatay bringing his work home; just once, when he was busy with his requirements in masters; forgivable si Nanay - such a workaholic, nag-mana sa anak, lol)
2. Be gender-sensitive. (Never heard my father complain while doing the grocery/going to the market, cooking his "cowboy" meals, etc.; mother likes to fix things, etc.)
3. If one of you is angry, just listen. (very effective daw)
4. Fighting is not an option. (Never heard them fight, ever)
5. Communicate always. (If naga-tipid, text. If medyo damo extra, nami gid call. If abuton sang pagka-old school, they write each other letters! And now that they're both retired, it's fun to see them talking everyday... I mean, how do you manage to do that the whole day and tomorrow and the next few years?)
6. Consider your partner's suggestions. (they believe in equality)
7. Find time for each other - aside from spending the whole day at home. (They still date from time to time, hahaha)
8. Save. Save. Save. (With this, they hate me. Hahaha! Tatay said that he'll allow me to get married if I have savings. Fine. :P)
9. Adapt. Revise. Do not give up. (Situations will always shake the married couple's comfortable zone so it's a must to be flexible)
10. Laugh. (Their laughter is music to my ears.)

:) Interview accomplished! Hehehe... But my father also told me, "What may work for us may not work for you. But these tips more or less work - all the time." I'd love to tell them in the future: "You're just right."

:D

Oh, we forgot to take pictures of the event because of the great food (thank you, Kusina Tsina), stories and laughter. We would like to thank my eldest brother, his wife and his daughter for coming.

Thank you Lord for such wonderful parents. Someday, I'd like to be like them one way or another. Happy 31st anniversary!!!

the ilaw ng tahanan is sooo back

2011-05-06T23:17:00.003+08:00

Yey! After a battle against the "leaping" cooking oil this afternoon, I managed to do two wishes from my list:

~~2) cook for my father~~
~~3) cook for my mother~~

Today's my first time to cook my parents a real meal and I must say it's so personal. No wonder preparing food for another person/group of people matters a lot. It's an intimate expression of affection (thank you, 'Tay, for always making time to cook for us especially during weekends). It's a bit embarrassing because I should have done this years ago but I just lacked interest and time.

So it's adobo for Nanay (Ma'am Gert's recipe and baked salmon on a bed of basil and asparagus for toppings, seasoned with lemon juice, pepper and salt for Tatay! Plus a healthy drink of lemon with cucumber cubes (I forgot the appropriate term). Hehehe... Char pamati-an, lol.

But seriously, I'd like to thank Ma'am Gertrude, a great friend-cook (who can cook a mean tom yam, pramis) who shared moral support (T.T), patience, kitchen and cooking tips. It's also really helpful that my house is just less than 10 houses from yours, hehehe...

P.S. A mother really lights up the house... Welcome back, Nanay. :)

stories to live

2011-05-05T00:36:00.005+08:00

When I first watched GMA-7’s “i-Witness” in high school, I fell in love with how issues were presented through documentaries. And since I didn’t have the skills or the equipments so I just weaved stories for the school pub and a local daily. I love writing; writing is my constant companion, a loyal friend. But I’m still secretly in love with documentaries (and yes, short films) that when I was offered to be a scriptwriter in 2008, I didn’t have second thoughts in accepting it. And among all the experimental films and documentaries we’ve made, I really like Panudlak.

But that was almost two years ago and I’m itching to cover the topics I’ve written down in my idea notebooks years ago. Some of them are offshoots of the articles I did in the previous years; most are education-related, which I’m excited to do.

I just can’t wait. And as I draft outlines of scripts in my head, I heed the words of my favorite people in the field:

NICK DEOCAMPO (Director, Mowelfund Film Institute / INHS Alumnus)
“[Documentary]… is a creative treatment of reality.”

“His [documentarian] main requirement is a great interest in humanity – the passion for it, to know and to be able to relate. He might know a lot of things but he cannot tell them as a documentary filmmaker. But the passion as well to put it across, to articulate it, I think that’s the key. He should be passionate in knowing, in imbibing all these experiences, but equally passionate or even more passionate in relaying [them].”

Cecilia L. Lazaro (Lead Reporter, Probe Team)

“The question that we always pose to ourselves is, what is new here?”

Kidlat Tahimik and Kidlat de Guia (Father and Son)

*I miss Tatay.

“A documentary is about sharing a story with other people.” –KdG

“Boring na rin yong mga parating boy meets girl, falls in love… I think the world’s looking for interesting stories which each of you has with your ‘sariling duwende’ story.” - KT

Last night, I thought of a catch phrase/motto for my future series of documentaries (like for GMA Documentaries, they have "Sineng Totoo"). I pondered on the title of the new book I purchased: “Show, don’t tell” – also one of the top rules in writing features.

But I guess Mike’s FB stat hours ago nailed what I’d like people to learn: “I believe we've all got stories to tell, but more importantly, stories to live.”
Galing ano? Tsk. Inspired.

5 years and stopping

2011-05-04T00:23:00.000+08:00

This blog was born out of boredom in 2007, while I was laboring during my first days as desk editor for a local daily. It somehow grew as a cyberspace saving venue for undeclared love, spurs of several moments, and shameless plugs of “what I am capable of”.

I never thought it would come this far, but after chronicling five years of rollercoaster events, love letters threaded in several – if not most of the posts, glimpses of the extraordinariness out of the ordinary life, and a lot more, I realized that in the middle of maximizing the “interesting parts” of my life I lost and forgot the simple reason why I keep on blogging: to express life.

After reviewing my recent posts and not-so-recent ones from last year, I noticed I have been tricking myself into believing that I was expressing my thoughts when in fact what I do is write the stuff people expect to read, not the things I really want them to know. I would use hints such as tones, exclamation marks, and even poetry and painting to “purely express” what I really felt during those times, to get the target person(s) know and understand what I really feel, but I have been cheating myself.

I am tired of making blogging as an excuse, a hope, or an act of desperation or self-preservation under a 50-50% rule. Whenever I read my posts, it’s like staring at altered artifacts in a shiny, polished museum. So where’s the truth in it when I am just trying to impress people with maximized portions of my so-called life? Or maybe I am just tired of writing about myself. It’s just like having thousands of self-portraits in the halls of my mind. It’s like “it’s me, myself and I” drama.

So after several attempts and callouts (which fished out some useful advices; thank you friends), I hereby announce the closing of this personal blogspot. It will have its official closing ceremony any day next month (during my birthday perhaps? I should also get a new Smart number hehehe.. my 0918+number is already 12 years old... sheesh).

For the meantime, I’ll make use of the spaces here until the closing date.

P.S. Another home is being drafted. Maybe this time, an ambeth-ocampo like blog will do. 75% facts, 25% feelings? hahaha

whoa!

2011-05-03T23:18:00.002+08:00

I give myself to the one who has the courage to find me and free me. -Michael Shepherd, Lovedrug

got it here. Galing naman!

been poked

2011-05-03T20:35:00.000+08:00

“Hi, ‘Ne. I hope you don’t mind me asking. May bf ka na?” - via FB pm
“Kung ganyan ka nang ganyan, mamatay kang virgin!” - from a super close friend

Lately I get a lot of questions and comments on my unchanged status for 25 years and the more I try to evade them, they just keep on coming. From the simplest ones to the most brutal statements, I’m trying so hard not to let these wound and pop my bubble. At times however even the smallest scratches itch the most.

So here are two FAQs and the best answers I came up with to shield myself from the pokes of further questions.

May bf ka na?
I will let you know. :D

Kung ganyan ka nang ganyan, mamatay kang virgin!
Bawal ba?

I know that explaining myself through blogging won’t clarify these questions nor change statements about me. I just pray for patience and good nature when and if I answer the same questions in the future.

life must go on

2011-05-03T14:23:00.002+08:00

'Yun 'yun lang talaga. Minsan masaya ka at ang buong mundo. Minsan, ang mundo lang ang masaya. At minsan ay may nasasaktan din. Malas mo na lang kung puso mo 'yun. Minsan mas gusto nating masaktan intelligently, at least, pwede ka pang magreview at magtry answer uli.

Kaya most of us would rather want, act intelligently. Kasi mas mamomodify ng brain ang pain, ang trauma.

La lang. Just saying.

23 to go

2011-04-30T11:11:00.002+08:00

~~12) pass scholarship requirements~~

Salamat Aries at Katkat, sa pag-ugyon sa akon pagka-"boring" sa two nights hehehe

Salamat Antique

Salamat Lord :D

another down, 24 to go

2011-04-28T16:05:00.002+08:00

~~16) be someone’s girlfriend for a day~~

Ah, eto pala 'yung feeling na may boyfriend hehehe buti na lang, one day lang ito hahaha!
thanks, *********!
Of all male friends, I didn't expect it would be you.
Hahaha!
Salamat for making me feel like a princess today :D

Now, who wants to be my girlfriend for a day?!:D

inspiring people

2011-04-27T18:22:00.005+08:00

Warning: This could be some cheesy post for you. So if you don't like mushy stuff, don't continue. :P

I would find inspiration from almost anything, but the greatest ones come from people that surround me. For the past weeks, I've been with some of them (all the time), and there are those whom I'd just see in a formal setting, or in social networks. Nevertheless, I'd like to mention them here in no particular order:

Donne

I prettily hated this guy at times whenever he would just talk about practically about everything even in inappropriate moments way back in college and even when he was teaching in the university, but no one can deny that this man is sheer intelligent. But aside from his intelligence, what I admire about him is his dedication for learning, and yes, patience to *pain-in-the-ass* young people like me. We would engage in battles of ideas since college, but he doesn't take it personally. Until now, whenever I run to him for guidance and nosebleed sessions, he wouldn't hesitate to share his time. That's just admirable. Thank you, Nong - though you wouldn't probably read this. Heheh. Keep up and I know someone will be smiling when she reads about this. Hehehe. Peace, whoever you are.

Jee

Being friends with this person in just a super short period of time is simply amazing. Food is the reason why we really became friends, not the business - or this is just what I want to believe in. Hehehe. She's one of those people whom you can say, "wow, it's as if we've known each other forever". Jee is full of stories - some of them are freakishly weird (like the lizard story :P) and just this afternoon, she told me her struggles she had to endure just to send a letter to Buckingham Palace for Prince William. A Prince-William die hard, her packages were refused and destroyed two or three times before an ordinary postal letter traveled its way inside the castle gates. Days later (or weeks), she received a letter of reply. It may seem be very "so-what" for others, but for Jee, God was working because as her pastor said, "One, try. Two, never give up. Three, go and [let] God." This story inspired me to go on with my scholarship application which I've been putting on hold for a few weeks now. :)

Ivan

Ivan, my unfortunate "future" (hahaha), is simply amazing. I'd never thought we would be best of friends since I gave him very rough times as his editor. Hahaha! Like Donne, he never takes me seriously when I kid around or lose my uncanny temper. He would just calmly talk about it with me after I'm done with my "session". Anyway, my list of praises for this man is endless and I'm just proud of who and where he is right now. He inspires me a lot when it comes to faith, dreams and works.

Ate Rhods

Ate Rhods was a college classmate and a bit older than us. All of us in the classroom fondly called her "Ate" not just because of her age but because of her maturity and strength. I haven't seen here for the past five years but I'm excited planning my solo trip where she works right now. She's one of those persons you'd want to talk to when you want to pursue life-changing decisions. Oh, how I miss her so much.

Marvin

I still couldn't believe that my former student will be a licensed teacher in a few months time. But what is inspiring about Marvin is that he knows what he wants from the start. When they were in third year, I - who was then a student teacher - made them write that they want to be when they grow up. If my memory serves me right, he was the only student out of the five sections I was teaching who wrote "to be a teacher". What delights me more is our discussions on anything related to teaching and education, and this is just simply amazing. I know good things would come to him. It's not just because he has a "magna cum laude" attached to his name; it's because he's born to this. This new blood inspires me to try cleanse my systems from time to time; it's difficult to become an old blood.

Heaven

Like Jee, she adores Prince William to death but I know she'll be okay after the wedding. :D Anyway, Heaven -like Sir Donne and Ivan - provides me with a haven of intellectual and emotional environments. We would sift through issues under a blanket of stars (remember one University Week night? :D), while painting bulletin boards or just during breaks. If I'm torn and weary of the illusions and delusions the education system presents before me, I would think of Heaven because I believe she's a great teacher. Who would give up public school for mobile teaching? Crazy, but she did. And yes, even it was unlikely for her to do so, she braved enough to make a difference.

Mike

First off, congrats to my walking buddie Mikeel for graduating just yesterday! He is now walking his way to a "mayad" future!!! Hahaha! Like his high school classmate Marvin, he loves talking and walking (he's so into it that he made us a blogspot for that venue; adik to the nth level). Most of the time, he talks about Pokemon, typography and books like a nerd (peace yo, I know how much you hated to be stereotyped, hehe) but at times this 14-year-old inside a 30-year-old body (or he would like to believe so) would give the most mature random conversations one could have. Talking to this guy, also, is like therapy, especially when you're out of ideas (I do not mean to be a parasite hehehe) but I really enjoy it whenever we would talk about something and then we would connect it to teaching and voila! I have future activities - exciting ones - for my students!!! Yey! Thanks Mike for always inspiring me to try and give unusual activities to my children! You inspire me to inspire them! Nyehehe! Can't wait this May!!!

Ma'am Terry & the Students in Saturday Basic English Class

Ma'am Terry, Mike's mom, reminds me so much of my mother (whom I terribly miss but she'll be coming home sooon!!!). Like Nanay, Ma'am Terry pushes literacy and livelihood classes for parents, mothers and children. It inspires me a lot because it has been my dream to teach (willing) adults! I do not know but I like teaching "old people", which probably started from my BPI days. Thank you, Ma'am, for the opportunity! Oh, how I miss my Nanays and Tatays!

Mr. & Mrs. de Leon

Before this morning, I adored Ma'am Oozie because she inspires me so much with my thesis topic (got tired of her saying, "you know, basi one of you will be inspired to do this and that..." hehehe). But when she got her husband to speak before us this morning, I love her na - and her husband hehe. I was so impressed, amazed and floored by this morning's class because it was my first time to see a husband and wife do something very formal and professional, yet maintaining this sense of ordinariness. I really find it sweet for Ma'am Oozie to let her husband do his thing (she was smiling and quiet all the time). Gina-kilig ako! We played his math games, got amazed at trivias, etc. His wife even joined us! What a fun couple! I mean, how do they maintain such fun and sweet relationship after being married for 15 years? One thing is for sure, here are two of the secrets of a healthy and blessed marriage (by just observing them): (1) Confidence and (2) Supporting one another's goals and dreams. They're also into bird watching! Wala lang hehe...Ah basta... Seeing happy couples doing happy things together is positively sexy :D

Tomorrow afternoon, I'll be leaving to document PWDs or persons with disabilites together with Lola HPV and FB Aries. I'm preparing my heart for another set of inspirations. :D

on finding your creative space

2011-04-26T09:59:00.002+08:00

My friend Heaven said she doesn't have a creative space; I do not think that's true, do you Ven?

Again, I believe that all of us have creative spaces. But if you're confused, here is a suggestion:

Think of a place that relaxes you. Could this be your bed? Your fave chair in the dining room? A spot under a tree? It could be any place, but it does not mean you're just restricted to one forever.

creating and finding creative spaces

2011-04-25T00:21:00.000+08:00

I love creative spaces, and I think a lot of people have one or more in a lifetime. It's an energy field where one just finds the creative juices flowing, and these spaces take forms too. These are not just areas per se; these could be things. It could be your favorite headband (hahaha, Rachel Berry?), earphones, the water bottle beside your laptop, or anything you bring or can't have without when in the process of creating something.

Or it could be something non-material. You know, memories that just push the poet laureate in you, thoughts that randomly pop out in your head... These create spaces in spaces.

And why am I writing this? Because I cannot seem to find mine in the past few hours and I have to find it somewhere between these words, through writing or reading or facebooking (whatthe??!!! Big Bro! Please take your smartbro back! hahahaha!)

Pa-deep na tani, no? Lol.

Forgetting the Remembered VIII

2011-04-24T12:05:00.005+08:00

The Unpublished Final Chapter (Char!)
04/10/11

“To set ghosts of the past free; so we may start anew.”

Mouse clicks and keypad sounds merged with the grayish light of the violet room. On his comfy computer chair, Lerio began showing me through the computer screen the revisions I noted early that afternoon. I stared at the blue background of the cover he was doing, but something else bothered me: an opportunity of meeting “the one” – again – after two years.

Days before, I saw an announcement in his company’s Facebook page that they were having a video editing workshop. After scanning the requirements, I made myself believe that “this was it” – the rendezvous I’ve been waiting for, the moment of closure to the tale I weaved to make myself a love fool, and gave others false hopes about first loves and happy endings.

“Intra ‘ta bala, Ler,” I suddenly blurted out instead of a statement on the design. Lerio looked at me as if I got crazier. He knew about “the one” and my made-believe almost-movie like story.

“Binuang ka naman ‘da, Adel,” he said flatly, returning to his work.

I sighed and looked at folders and folders of pictures and documents beside my feet, lying peacefully on the dusty carpet.

“Pila ‘to haw?”

With a big smile, I looked at Lerio who was waiting for the answer. “P2,500.”

“Diin ko ‘na makuha? Maayo ka ‘ya kay may ubra ka.”

“Ako bahala, Papa Ler.” I looked at his computer screen again, and the blue color he’s editing gave me a hopeful note. This time, it’s not just my intention that’s being brought up, I had to push my friend’s desire to learn the craft – by supporting him supporting me hahaha! That’s what real friends are for.

Weeks after, I –with Kit, a friend from the college publication –found myself opening the door of Emilion and meeting Marga at the top of the stairs. After a short introduction, they took our pictures for the workshop ID and the moment came – he was there. Alvin.

Then everything happened so fast. Like this – we said “hi”, then the workshop started, he started talking about “it’s not about the arrow, it’s about the archer” stuff, his teammates started talking about camera shots, then editing, then lunch came, I can’t remember what happened next or which came first or last because again everything happened so fast and we were grouped and we started talking about shirts and locations and the next day Aleyn guided us through everything and we shot and shot and had fun and Winkee edited the whole thing and the next thing was the awards night where our group won best vid, and in the individual category, Kit’s work was one of the best and came awarding and picture taking and he started singing about this one night with Kiko and when we were about to go home I managed to fill my self with courage and congratulate him for the job well done.

That was fast, wasn’t it?

But realizations were slow but sweet.

That night, I smiled as we went home because I finally proved to myself that the dangerous story I made to make myself feel better could end. I smiled because I know I forgave myself for being a fool. I smiled because I set free my muse for art, depression and self-pity.

Then I started liking people in their own lightness, and it’s just beautiful – appreciating their goodness. So I decided to just stop looking, enjoy my friends’ company and do meaningful things in this short life.

The months of 2010 and early 2011 left me balancing beams of hopeful and hopeless loves. I mentioned to a friend that I am confident I’ll find the one for me, but honestly I don’t. Maybe that’s the reason why I stopped watching wedding videos and immersing my time with love stories. I’d like to believe I’m a bit bitter about this whole love thing but I think I’d rather keep my feelings for another person to myself for now before I get into another self-made mess.

But no, I’m not giving up on love. Last week, I told a good friend jokingly that if he’s still free after a couple of years from now and I am too, we should end up together. It is a desperate move, I know. But it’s not all about the glamour of romance I’m after this deal: it’s the beauty of companionship and acceptance.

Of course, I do not wish to just consider spending the rest of my life with someone out of a deal. But if that friendship has this confident love – a love that doesn’t judge, accuse or doubt, a love that supports dreams and encourages one to be better, a love that challenges one to go out of one’s comfort zone – who am I to refuse it? But I still have a few years, so… if no one's making a bridge for me, then I'll just make one when I get there hehehe...

Thus, the end of the Adel-Alvin story. And the start or a continue or a whatever of my never-ending love epic (a what??!!!).

And my adventure for a confident love starts anew with this quote:
“To meet the Beloved is to realize ‘we loved before we were born.” – C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

before I turn 26, I'd like to...

2011-04-23T20:49:00.007+08:00

Last year, I made my wish list and what-ifs, and I think I did some of them: like going to a long-time planned trip, eating a dog, having a different hairstyle, drinking wine along a public road among others. Inspired by my previous lists and after reading the lists of acquaintances, I now present the 26 things I’d like to do before I turn 26 on June 23. So here goes:

1) ~~go to a beach~~ (05/13/11; Sibunag, Guimaras)
2) ~~cook for my father~~ (05/06/11)
3) ~~cook for my mother~~ (05/06/11)
4) ~~unplanned picnic under any nice tree~~ (05/13/11)
5) ~~walk an unfamiliar route~~ (04/23/11; Mandurriao area)
6) ~~roadtrip outside Iloilo province~~ (05/12-14/11)
7) videoke night
8) ~~date my mother for a day or two~~ (05/08/11)
9) do my dream interviews
10) do step 2 of the biz
11) shoot my first short short dokyu!
~~12) pass scholarship requirements~~ (04/29/11; San Jose, Antique)
13) grant someone’s wish
14) declare a hug day!
15) write a thank-you letter
16) ~~be someone’s girlfriend for a day~~ (04/28/11; anjan-anjan lang)
17) ~~be someone’s boyfriend for a day~~ (05/14/11; Maia, ELgin and Thor)
18) be someone’s daughter for a day
19) cook for my brother’s birthday
20) ~~make someone cry~~ (05/14/11; me, myself and I)
21) unplanned trip to a nearby town and eat
22) update resume, portfolio, etc.
23) *feel free to suggest since this is my favorite number* :D
24) dress like a Korea and pretend to be one for a day
25) visit an old friend
26) THROW A SEAFOOD BIRTHDAY PARTY!!!

to those with kindred hearts *wink* *ehem*, I am willing to be helped :D

too short?

2011-04-20T15:06:00.003+08:00

I just realized we're already in the third week of April and summer is but a short word. I wanna go to the mountains pa and to the beach and to anywhere that requires an hour of bus rides or so. BUT I WILL NOT GIVE UP. HAHAHAH.

There's still time. There's still time. There's still time.

MABABALIW AKO.

kulang sa tulog

2011-04-06T03:43:00.003+08:00

hahaha!

it's 15 minutes to 4 am and this question bugged me:

am i inspired to love or do i love to be inspired?

charing!

*p.s. eto ang nagagawa ng hanggang-umagang presswork after one year
*p.s. 2. wala pa akong sagot sa tanong na 'yan... kaya hayaan na muna siyang manatili sa aking daily layp

april full

2011-04-03T16:51:00.002+08:00

Dear blogspot,

iwan muna kita ng panandali-an. marami lang talaga akong aasikasuhin. isa pa, hindi na ako makakapag-wifi daily (hehe) at kung saang bundok na naman ako ihahampas ng hangin in between ng summer classes. pero bago ako mawawala, ito ang motto natin, galing sa libro na "The Dream Giver":

"Take courage, ordinary."

Taos pusong nagmamahal,

adelic

wow

2011-04-02T22:30:00.002+08:00

Bumalik ako sa lugar kung saan ipinanganak ang blog na ito. It's a sign! Malapit na...

3 wishes

2011-03-31T14:36:00.002+08:00

If 2011 is a genie, I have three wishes: 1. 2. 3.

what's on my mind

2011-03-28T12:11:00.004+08:00

the blood on the woman's head
is as red as the tricycle's shiny paint
that now has a huge dent
after it hammered itself
to that short bridge
throwing the driver
off its seat

this sent me thinking
if I
I just do this,
will this make me the blood
on someone's head

or
throw someone off the seat?

the art of a call

2011-03-22T13:03:00.000+08:00

Last night, I had the longest (cell)phone conversation of 45 minutes since I can remember, and it was cool. I’m not a fan of unlimited calls as I just like to send text messages off to recipients but anyway, thank you unlimited services. Also, that call reminded me of something texting and facebooking cannot replace – the identification of the voice at the other end of the line, recognition of sincerity through the tone, the art of filling in semi-dead airs, the hearty laughs in the air.

lines I will set aside for a while

2011-03-17T15:26:00.002+08:00

Wow! Year 2 is almost over and I cannot believe I'm on my way to my third (and I am excited to start it). For now, here are the lines I commonly use inside the classroom, which I'll be setting aside for summer:

*Who will lead the prayer? >>> Tudlu-anay dayon kon sin-o ma-lead.

*Put a space between you and your seatmate.>>> Then they will drag their chairs.

*If I see you looking at the paper of your seatmate, I will not call your attention; I will just list down your name. >>> This works like a miracle! Nyeheheh*Thank you and goodbye, class. >>> Tapos mag-hirinugyaw sila, esp. ang 1st year.

Wala lang. Senti. Dugay pa kag ma-students ko liwat ang first year. Ma-grad na ang fourth year (my first students in Humanities). Senti senti senti mode.

jesther @ 18

2011-03-17T10:49:00.002+08:00

Advance Happy 18, Biba shark Jestherita. Hindi ko pa naihahanda ang sarili ko sa "Speech from a Mentor". Parang ang sagwa eh. Hehehe...

Nagmamahal,

Mammita

love love love

2011-03-15T14:57:00.002+08:00

Yihiii. Cheesy. Not in the mood but definitely, this is love :)

mea @ 18

2011-03-14T14:31:00.003+08:00

Para sa biba shark na lumaki, happy 18th birthday!

mr. avid on women

2011-03-10T14:23:00.006+08:00

Here's a repost from Mr. Avid; I love him na. Hahahaha! Inserted words in parenthesis are mine. :)

Dear lovely Women Folk of the Philippines, the World & the Universe,

Do not be afraid to declare your infatuation (or love, if you feel that greatly). You should not be ashamed to pursue the guy of your affection in what ever means. It is in fact quite an effective litmus test for the worthiness of The Guy. Say you like someone & you show him you do so, if he gets turned off & thinks lowly of you afterward, then he is with out a doubt a douche & not worthy of any heart aches. Even if a guy does not like you, at the very least he should be very flattered & decline you in a respectful manner & you get to move on, which is way way waaaaay better than hopelessly pining & posting heart ache quotes here on Tumblr (blogger you mean).

And also, if you are lucky, he could be swept off his feet by your declaration & mutual floating hearts will follow :)

Sincerely,
Mr. Avid
Advocate of gender equality, enemy of silly social expectations.

weak but armed

2011-03-08T09:03:00.000+08:00

I am still weak from a recent battle but recovering. It’s true that when you recover with God’s grace, you’re like this movie character: still fighting even if there’s a gushing wound in your body. Since Saturday, circumstances are being thrown to me like basketball shots, wanting to make that 3-point shot in my circle. So instead of feeling sorry for myself, for being or playing a victim, I walked around points of view and started asking “what is it that God wants me to learn or see this time”, instead of “why me?”

This time God wants me to know:

-that struggling is a form of character formation

-that some long relationships are motivated by something else other than love and companionship, that these motives will be exposed eventually

-that “a good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit” (Matthew 7:18)

-that everyday is a battlefield of men and their desires

-that no matter how weak and susceptible I am to earthly desires, I can still stand up against something wrong and say “no” even if it’s against conformity and tradition.

I have refused to join into conformities that aren’t right for a long time and it has never been easy. They say that’s because I was young then but now that I’m transferring to the other half of my life, I should be exposed and “understand” the other far side of reality. But growing up is not an excuse to give in to any system out there. I refused to be bullied by jaded adults and power trippers.

My idealisms, my faith brought me this far; now is not the time to give in or to give up. It’s time to get armed and fight.

at war

2011-03-07T08:51:00.002+08:00

Just when someone suggested a sabbatical leave, I found myself in a battlefield shared by many but at the same time experienced single-handedly. This is one of the moments where people say they understand you, that they’d back you up when what they really do is just comfort you with meatless words and manipulating tones. This is one of those moments when people start to care about you not because they actually care for you but because they need you to do something for their benefit. I have no problem taking bullets for someone or for a cause as long as I believe in it, as long as it’s not something good that covers something bad.

Old people think I was only overwhelmed because of too much idealism, because I am not exposed to the so-called realities of life. Oh, that’s not true. At six, I spent my afternoons looking down at a prison cell filled with men whose bodies were covered with tattoos and whose eyes were filled with such hatred. At eight, I know what the word “rape” means. At 12, I found myself reading brochures and studies on battered wives and children in conflict. At 18, we at the pub experienced subtle threats from the gods and goddesses to pull out donations just because we won’t give into their demand of having a page in the paper. At 20, I met husbands who managed to look lewdly at young girls even if their wives were around. At 21, someone gave me a real example of a don’t in journalism ethics. At 23, illegal drugs were a foot away. At 25, power tripping got the best of my second year in teaching. I know these are minor experiences compared to those of others but it’s enough for me to say I know what I believe in.

It is somehow disappointing to see the very persons you trust advise you to chill and relax because this is just part of life. You know, the people who taught you that black is black, and white is white; people whom you consider the cornerstones of your beliefs and values. It’s like flushing a part of you down the drain, killing that plant you have nurtured for years, destroying the life of a child you bore with patience and pain.

I’m no saint, obviously I'm more of a sinner. But it doesn’t give me a “logical” reason to follow anyone’s order just because it’s what everybody’s doing anyway, or because it’s part of the job. And is it wrong to hold on to a dream of having and living an upright life?

I feel like an infant in an Erik Erikson theory: trust vs. mistrust. So the question is this: to trust in something you know it’s wrong just because it will save a relationship, or to mistrust that person, which will lead to a gray friendship?

23 reasons to keep this blog

2011-03-04T11:39:00.004+08:00

Gimme a day or two to come up with 23 reasons to keep this personal blahg - er, blog. Thoughts on deleting this virtual diary-journal aren't new. Yes, writing in this blog for almost four years made my life bearable but it seems everything is just about me (obviously).

I need some diversion.

I need a new direction.

I need some renewed passion.

one more movie like this and 'di ko na kaya

2011-03-04T09:02:00.002+08:00

don't feel discussing about this movie right now. i've been slapped big time. :(

gm & other communication invalidities

2011-03-03T13:50:00.006+08:00

Among outlets of communication, emails, blog entries and text messages belong to the least reliable sources of emotional validity.

I guess most of us have been there: receives a message of any form (quote, simple "hi, musta?", from a prospect or a guy who never texts you or talks to you for 5 minutes) -> you reply -> he/she replies -> both try to be interesting in a virtual conversation -> one will eventually get bored -> the other struggles to save the supposed-to-be wonderful beginning of a what-if -> both of you end the talk with goodbyes, good night, text-text -> the next day or the next few days, you wait for an hour - that only hour - of exchange of really nothings (this replaced the sweet nothings) and thumb muscle exercise.

You then notice that after P1***-worth of load, a sore thumb and mind games, that person is not into you but remembers you as a synonym to boredom saver. And you hear that he/she texts the same messages (if not, modified ones) to the rest of the people under the "special friends" category.

Boy, that person surely knows how to exhaust gaans and unlis; must be really rich.

Anyway, this led me to the conclusion to avoid trusting these outlets of communication wherein emotional invalidities develop. Or I just assume too much - again.

Period.

same subject

2011-03-03T10:32:00.004+08:00

the problem with artists is

they cannot run away from the subject of their works

whichever field chosen

it's still the same person

trapped between the spaces of words

in poems and prose

stuck in the fine bristles

of watercolor brushes

the air controlled

in the diaphragm

the wind that moves

the hands and legs

the grains in that photo

that is the problem with artists is

they cannot just run away

from a person

it's always someone

behind something

*because I haven't painted since Monday :(

ethnic music, high school, watercolors, heartbreaks

2011-03-01T10:15:00.007+08:00

Last Saturday we watched and listened to Kontra-GaPi (Kontemporaryong Gamelan Pilipino), an ensemble from UP-Diliman who's into contemporary ethnic, world music and fusion (according to their Facebook description, hehe). It was so much fun! Too bad I am not that musically inclined; it would have been fun to slip into the genre effortlessly if I were a musician. I only felt bad because the auditorium wasn't filled with people.

I was so happy to be there because the last time I listened to this kind of music was during Kapwa in 2008. I never thought I was that thirsty for the medium until I heard the gongs, claps and kulintangs. I wanted to cry because the dancers reminded me so much of high school: manongs and manangs who would wail like banshee and hypnotize the audience with the mathematics of melody and rhythm; and friends who would seize the stage with intensified passion through the graceful flicks of their hands and fingers.

Oh, memories are bittersweet; it hurts so much like a heartbreak. And how does one deal with a heartbreak?

In high school, we would deal heartbreaks by pouring ourselves into our art. You know - dancers dance, singers sing, writers write, painters paint, actors act. In the long run, we saw art fields are interchangeable (though we struggled hard for this). The dancers discovered they can sing. The singers can act. The painters can write. The writers can paint.

But we grew up. Only a few pursued. Most considered high school as a phase, just a phase. Some are still haunted. I belong to the third group, and so is my best fiend, Maia.

The previous years were not kind to her, and she dealt with heartbreaks of all kinds like the rest of us. So last Saturday when I saw her pictures working on a painting, I was overjoyed. The last time I saw her painting was in college, for visual aids purposes. Then we started talking again about expressionism and other -isms, mediums, subjects... We ended up buying watercolor paper and agreeing on exchange works.

I am happy with what transpired over the weekend. Terribly happy that it breaks my heart.

Declarations of a Healthy Adult Living in Relationships

2011-02-28T17:13:00.002+08:00

This is what you get when you stalk a former stalkee. Nyehehehe... . We discussed pala this during the HAIN RGS in Bohol in 2007, but I was probably too young to take this seriously - so I cannot remember reading this. Anyway, true to all or not, here goes the Declarations of a Healthy Adult Living in Relationships:

1. All factors in relationships pass through phases: intimacy, affection, sexual interest/energy, commitment to children and family, compatibility, self-disclosure.

2. Only at rare moments is the love in one partner the same as that in the other.

3. Priorities are continually changing for each partner. The integrity of the union may not always be a priority.

4. No truly loving relationship takes away – or can take away – even one of your basic human rights.

5. Intimate relationships survive best with constant permission for ever-changing ratios of closeness and distance.

6. What creates distance in your relationship you may be using unconsciously to get distance;

7. The best relationship includes space for you to pursue individual choices and to be compassionately attentive to any threat your partner may feel.

8. No one can control or change someone else nor is it necessary.

9. No one is loyal or truthful all the time.

10. No expectations are valid and not even agreements are reliable.

11. Your partner may not always be a trustworthy friend, consistent, or nurturing (and so are you).

12. You are ultimately alone and ultimately able to make it alone.

13. No relationship can create self-esteem. It can only support it.

14. There is no one person who will make you happy, keep you fascinated, or love you as yourself.

15. Most people in relationships seldom know what they really want, ask for what they really want, or show what they really feel.

16. Most people avoid or fear intimacy, consistent honesty, intense feelings, and uninhibited self-disclosure.

17. Beneath every serious complaint about your partner is something unowned in yourself.

18. Letting go of blame and the need to be right heals a relationship most efficaciously.

19. Jealousy and possessiveness, though not desirable, are normal human feelings.

20. “Goodbye” is rarely said clearly. Most people ease away wordlessly and avoid full confrontation.

21. No one is to blame when a relationship ends.

22. The end of one relationship will always require a space before another relationship can begin healthily.

23. It is normal for memories, regrets, the wish for revenge and a recurrent sense of loss to far, far outlast the end of a relationship.

24. One of your (or your partner’s) parents is a phantom, but active presence at the beginning, middle, or end of your relationship.

25. The powerful appeal of somehow new may tell you more about your neediness than about the charms of the other person.

26. Relationship is a spiritual path since it consists of a continual shedding of illusions.

Wow. Heavy. It must be the effect of watching love-themed movies during the weekend. Oh, well. Love is love when you love best.

you made me cry hard last night

2011-02-28T10:08:00.000+08:00

After moping around with "Hot Summer Days" yesterday, it made me wonder: when can a Pinoy film on love make me cry hard? Last time, the indie flick "Agaton & Mindy" just made me produce some tears but it wasn't enough. Bitin. I liked "Love & Other Drugs" but got overdosed of Jake and Ann's making out (if you strip the movie off of its sex scenes, the story is good). Also, I managed to watch "First Love" aka "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" (at last) and true: it sent me laughing but wasn't happy of the ending (0nly some people - probably 5% - ended up with their first love... so the ending is not realistic). Translation: bitter. Hahahaha! Pati ah.

Maybe I should direct my version of love.... Hmn... Hahaha!

trial: the snail that lost its shell

2011-02-28T09:32:00.003+08:00

6 x 6 1/2 inches

watercolor on watercolor paper

trial: the sun and the kid

2011-02-24T09:12:00.002+08:00

Been listing some inspirations for illustration practice for days now. And because last night I wanted to try hues of yellow, I chose the sad conversation between a kid and the sun, a short short story Mike and I made during a chat years ago. The scanned version turned out okay, but the original is not as good as this one. I'd like to do another version of this because the "Sun" doesn't look like one - "she" looks like a model wearing some sharp fur coat (is there such a thing? haha).

So, here goes:

8 in x 7.5 in

Watercolor on watercolor paper

let the illustrating begin!

2011-02-23T09:34:00.005+08:00

5 in x 7 in

watercolor pencils and watercolor on watercolor paper

Inspired by Lady Antebellum song, "Need You Now" but I made a mistake (the time is supposed to be a quarter after 1am) hehe

remembering komikon '10

2011-02-21T15:25:00.010+08:00

Since I'm in no mood to write, here are the pics during the costly-mistake trip last year (but Komikon was great!):

longing for warmth and rays

2011-02-21T12:11:00.003+08:00

Got so high for a month; then the recent weekend dropped by and there were lots of downers. Then Monday came (that's today; I have to remind myself of this) and the department's bracing up for a few hell weeks of March. I just thank God I'm not into drugs.

Behind the paper piles and lesson plans, a lot of things are waiting for my attention and I just can't wait for April and May to arrive. I want to finish my MA acad requirements and start reviewing for compre. I'm looking forward to see my mother, the sea, some streets I'm not familiar with, to set up a makeshift studio at home. I'm excited to be under this wonderful female artist, try a new medium, draft my stories, illustrate them and more.

Ah, summer. You always make me properly insane.

opening

2011-02-16T14:16:00.009+08:00

HIGH #3

I ended 2010 asking what would be my song for that year. This 2011, it's not too late to post my official "opening" soundtracks:

'Coz baby you're a firework

Come on, show what you're worth

Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"

-Firework, Katy Perry

I love Katy's highlights

But the winner is...

Maybe I'll write like Twain wrote

Maybe I'll paint like Van Gogh

Cure the common cold, I don't know

But I'm ready start 'cause I know in my heart

I wanna do something that matters, say something different
Something that sets the whole world on its ear
I wanna do something better with the time I've been given
I wanna try to touch a few hearts in this life
Leave nothing less than something that says ?I was here?

-I Was Here, Lady Antebellum

I run from hate, I run from prejudice

I run from pessimists, but I run too late

I run my life or is it running me, run from my past

I run too fast or too slow it seems

When lies become the truth

That's when I run to you

-I Run To You, Lady Antebellum

Picture perfect memories

Scattered all around the floor

Reaching for the phone 'cause
I can't fight it anymore

And I wonder if I
Ever cross your mind
For me it happens all the time

-Need You Now, Lady Antebellum

No. It's not the Grammy. Have them in iTunes since I can remember. :)

for the love (of) letters

2011-02-15T13:32:00.008+08:00

02.14.11 / 8:58 pm

HIGH #2

After reading Rory Evans’ Love, By the Letters in this month’s Reader’s Digest, I glanced at the black plastic bag on top of my table that contains more than 50 letters from Pristine, a best friend since elementary. Then, my eyes traveled to a Mercury Drug plastic, a home to a thick wad of letters both from my father’s and mother’s former loves. My attention turned to the transparent pouch – which I begged my father to let me borrow it for a night – that keeps our letters to our parents. Seeing my mother’s handwriting on one that sticks out from the rest overwhelmed me with sadness. Oh, how I miss her!

But this is no way to end this standardized day of hearts (oh, gosh; I just ate my words from the previous post!). Shall we end it with my love for the lost art of writing letters? So let’s start writing.

You see I am facing a treasure box of printed stories, stamped feelings and what-have-you. I have an interesting variety in front of me – from friendly letters to love letters to hate-love letters.

Pristine or Tin2x, my elementary best bud, and I started writing after sixth grade (that was in 1998), where the coolest gadget of instant messages and calls were pagers and analogs. We were a main street apart from the other – she stayed; I packed my bags, crossed the road and never returned there for four years (I am not kidding). Our only hopes for communication were the telephone and our younger siblings, who coincidentally were also classmates and close friends.

I could not remember who started writing first, but all I can say was the 50+ letters I now keep are just a part of the whole collection, which was mashed by Frank. I’m a little bit lucky to have salvaged a number; Tin2x lost all my letters, along with her elem and high school yearbooks and other mementos. When I told her I reread her remaining letters one night, she freaked out! She knows they can be tools for blackmail. Hahaha. I know my letters were peppered with grammatical errors and steaming temper; so losing them is not such a loss. lol

I loved receiving and reading Tin2x’s letters. They would come in colorful stationeries with matching envelopes. She would seal it with glue, tape and stickers. The most memorable seal she used was a glob of melted candle, which reminded me of medieval times and the movie The Iron Mask.

Sometimes, doodles and paintings were attached to these letters.

When you open the envelope, you see these inside:

One of her drawings. I couldn't find the Duo Maxwell painting :D

One time, she was really crazy when she sent me this undated letter with a lesson on “Naming of Ternary Compounds”:

front

back (click to see the formula closely > nosebleed)

We wrote about Ghost Fighter and Gundam Wing, crushes, enemies and dreams. I also liked it when she addressed me in my made-up anime names like Lime Minamino (Lime from a Saber Marionette character and Minamino from Kurama's alter ego in Ghost Fighter).

Look at the address! Hope it will come true!

Letters minimized when our parents bought us cellphones around year 2000. We somehow contributed saving Mother Earth but made our parents crazy over the 300-load card (that time, there was no unli service).

Today, Tin2x and I use text, emails, YMs and Facebook. Honestly, I am relieved by the following means of communication, especially since I wasn’t able to reply to all her letters for more than a decade ago (ah, this sentence makes me feel old). On the other hand, I miss the stationery hunting session, waiting moments, the terrible handwritings and bonding over pen and paper.

Let’s move over to my parents’ cheesy moments. By the way, I have their permission to write about this, hehehe, but if you happen to read this, please keep your mouth shut. I’m planning to give a refined version when Nanay goes home in May. Hehehe. And note: this is not to embarrass them; this is discovering the worlds they once lived in before they met each other. It’s like them doing the storytelling; only this time, they’re not “here” but essentially, it is them who do the talking (or something like that). Isn’t that romantic? (What? What did I just say?)

Going back, I discovered my father’s letters first before those my mother’s. When I was seven or eight, I was very snoopy. I would practice my so-called detective skills with the wooden cabinet with a scary big, circular mirror by picking the locks of its drawers with hairpins and mismatched keys.

One day when my father forgot to close one of the drawers, I opened it and voila! He caught me, but the interesting bunch of envelops that I saw inside it etched in my mind ever since. He told me those were from his former girls, but he never let me read the letters (my mom read them and would tease Tatay about it, hehe).

Years forward, Frank came and claimed most of our paper memories. We were in the middle of saving what we could when I saw a small black bag floating in the waist-high flood. I fished it out. When I opened it, I was surprised to see the bundles of letters I saw years ago. Knowing the importance of the letters, I carefully laid them one by one on a semi-dry plastic shoe rack to dry. So yes, I am holding and reading once-soaked-in-the-flood letters, which actually look like the ones we see in era films. Germs, germs, germs, but who cares? The past is always dusty anyway.

Tatay would always tell me that he had seven girls before Nanay. And the last one was his worse heartbreak. He wouldn’t tell me the name; I respect him for that. Maybe one way or another, the thought of the woman or her name brings sad and bitter memories. Moving on, I discovered three women in his letters and my mother was not one of them (I asked them if they wrote one another; they said, yes, but they couldn’t produce a proof. Maybe one of them burned the letters after a huge fight, hehehe). Each woman exchanged letters with Tatay in different years, and they either studied or worked outside Panay. Woman C was a pen pal. Woman B was writing from Manila and she had this cheerful tone in her letters. And Woman A, with the beautiful cursive handwriting, was one of the girls who broke his heart. In March 1971, she wrote:

My, this woman knew her rules in clear writing! “Be concise.”

From there, I found out that my mother has also her share of young loves. She told me Tatay was her first and last boyfriend; or she just erased the rest from her memory, which was admirable. From her pile, it seems that two men were constantly sending her letters and telegrams. On the other hand, I am not sure if Man B and Man A are just one. The telegrams were signed with an American-sounding name, and the handwritten letters with a nickname. Maybe I should ask Nanay na lang.

Actually, most of the letters are unreadable; the ink dissolved in the paper when it got wet. But I managed to save two cheesy telegrams with poems written on the covers. Yihiii! Here goes:

And speaking of cheesiness, it is cheesier but beautiful to read your grandmother’s letter to your father. Here’s the only mother-son letter I could find (and I’m so glad to see Lola Sayong’s beautiful handwriting):

I think it was my grandma who influenced my father to write, knowing how quiet my late grandfather was. But with us, it was Nanay who did all the writing for her and Tatay whenever there’s a problem, an argument or a “drama” as I call it in my *ehem* turbulent adolescent and post-adolescent years. My brothers and I would exchange letters with them, and reviewing them tonight, I could say we really were troubled and angry children. At age seven or eight, Robbie left his first letter with the note to run away from home.

I don’t remember the time I started writing to my parents; all I know my letters (which I refuse to post here haha) contained bitterness of my college course, my positive stand on drinking (which I believed is better than engaging in pre-marital sex or getting pregnant), and my failed jobs. My older brothers also made letter writing a bridge to fill the gap between them and our parents. And it actually works, if not all the time.

Writing letters is therapeutic to relationships and the people involved. It may be used as a tool for future blame games and possible blackmails, but writing to another is like sharing a rough skin to another person, in which that other person will polish it by replying or by not replying. It is an art – when to write and to reply, what to write and to reply.

However, this is somehow destroyed by the “instantness” of advance communication tools that sometimes we forget to think things over first before hitting the keyboard and that “publish” button, because we want things so fast.

So, slow down. If you haven’t written a letter in years or in ages and have been busy sending pageless letters and notes to people, why don’t you visit the bookstores and check if they still have those colorful stationeries in stock? Grab a pen and practice writing your “dears” and “truly yours”. Don’t worry; I’ll also do this exercise. I want to send some warm pages to a loved one across the globe or whomever I fancy writing to at the moment.

P.S.

I really think this one's funny. Hahaha. P'ro true, right?

Truly yours,

Adelle

if only our government officials could answer like this

2011-02-14T10:03:00.012+08:00

HIGH #1

I really had fun reading and checking my students' answers for the third grading exam in Humanities. Most of the entries entertained me; some shocked my yuppie point of view; and others left me laughing.

So here are the questions I posed and the excerpts from the best essays:

Sometime in November last year, the Department of Tourism took down a website that featured the supposedly new slogan for Philippines, "Pilipinas kay Ganda", after finding out that a porn site used the same keywords. So: a) Do you think the name of the website and the slogan degrade the Filipino culture? and (b) If DOT did not act on taking down the said website, what do you think would be the image of our tourism to the international tourism industry?

Why didn't they [DOT] take down the porn site instead? - Paul S., IV- Diamond

Whoever chose this as the name [for the slogan] may either be the most ignorant government employee or a brilliant marketing/advertising mind. Imagine, foreigners trying and searching for Asian pornography and ending up with scenes of a beautiful tropical paradise in the Pacific... The tourism agencies would very well come to accept this as it may boost booked tours and requirements of their services. Rather than degrade our culture, it would seem to me and perhaps those who have a sense of a bigger picture, exactly how cunning Filipinos can be. - Rom C., IV-Sapphire

Other critics considered the slogan "Pilipinas kay Ganda" bland and unimaginative. Some said it should be in English. The accompanying logo that resembles the tourism logo of Poland made other observers think of plagiarism. So: a) Is the slogan indeed 'bland and unimaginative' or are the people behind the concept just lazy?

A slogan in English doesn't really highlight the native feel of the Philippines. - Mae M., IV-Sapphire

A great amount of money was spent to create the website, but all that cash ended in trash. - Imarie P., IV-Sapphire

Tourism Sec. Alberto Lim presented the new slogan "Pilipinas kay Ganda" for the new administration. Although Pres. Noynoy Aquino junked the idea that drew issues and criticisms, it was said that his administration "indicated no intention" to go back to the slogan of former Sen. Richard Gordon, which was "WOW Philippines". So: a) Is it necessary ro change the tourism slogan of this country? and b) Do you think they should concentrate their efforts on other areas of local tourism aside from changing the slogan? If yes, what areas?

Why waste time in changing a slogan when we can have [other] "wow" factors which could make Philippines a truly beautiful country? - Via R., IV-Diamond

Slogans do not define our country. - Noleen B., IV-Diamond

People don't care about labels. - Doreen S., IV-Diamond

Malls now reserve an area or section where local food and products are being displayed for sale. Sometimes trade fairs would go on for a week, presenting specialties of specific towns. So: a) When can you say that this action of bringing local goods into the mall is an act of preservation and not just for display or commerce? and b) Are malls the new "center" of local tourism? What could be its effect to natural tourist destinations?

Although these malls offer a great deal to local tourism, it cannot replace natural tourist destinations. It may be the "center of attention" to tourists since it lies in the cities, but nothing can beat the experience and adventure of visiting a tourist spot personally. - Czar G., IV-Diamond

A mall show/display of local products is just like a compilation or a summary for people to know what is the content of a certain place... But that is not enough. We are born to discover. -Johanna M., IV-Sapphire

Malls became the endorsers for the local tourist destinations. - Ardy U., IV-Sapphire

I apologize to my brilliant students that I made them study "hard" for the exam, and then surprised them with this kind of test after a deliberation with myself on how to measure appreciation. I hope they remember their answers after high school. Hahaha.

so high with everything

2011-02-11T17:29:00.000+08:00

What makes me high this weekend? Hhmn... Watch out for the next post. :)

between choosing and refusing

2011-02-10T11:52:00.004+08:00

I was having the time of my teacherly life when an ex came around, proposing an attractive offer. and in the middle of making a decision on it, another former of the same kind offered something better.

I have three options.

One, choose the better offer and pay my dues.

Two, refuse both glittery bank-toning sources and concentrate with school where money's just enough.

And three, consider option #2 and take odd yet creative jobs.

on love and on becoming a grinch

2011-02-09T09:03:00.007+08:00

Because V-day's around the block, here are some thoughts on love:

You need to treat what love brings you with kindness. If you find yourself in love with someone who does not love you, be gentle with yourself. There is nothing wrong with you. Love just didn't choose to rest in the other person's heart.

If you find someone else in love with you toward whom you feel no love, feel honored that love came and called at your door, but gently refuse the gift you cannot return. Do not take advantage, do not cause pain. How you deal with love love is how love will deal with you, and all our hearts feel the same pains and joys, even if our lives and ways are different.-Kent Nerburn's Simple Truth

I would be lying if I’d say I never entertained mushy thoughts whenever Valentine’s Day is approaching. Oh, those long-stemmed roses, a well-prepared dinner for two, that small, glittery box… After all, I’m like most people – ordinary hopeless romantic.

As I am spending my 25th year under the “bingkong” or single status, my views on V-day changed. Caused by jadedness or bitterness or a simple observation of things, I no longer believe in the magic of this day. And no, I’m not writing this entry to lure someone to try change my mind (haha, defensive). Going back, love on V-day is 99% dictated by an idea that it should be perfect – shiny, cheesy, and not to mention, expensive. From a female perspective, it’s like this – oooooh, gimme that couple ring, kill me with a dozen of red roses, treat me in the newest resto. And if I were to receive all these on the 14th, I might actually believe that this guy’s REALLY into me. Haha.

But I turned into a valentine grinch. I no longer believe in the tradition. I hate how commercialized love has become. I abhor the thought of putting your best foot and footwear forward just for the occasion – not to mention that you must be extremely nice and considerate as well. Everything’s seems to be choreographed (unless you’re doing a wedding AVP or something).

It’s also like other annual dates so important to mankind: Father’s Day, Mother’s Day, Children’s Day, etc. Couldn’t we just celebrate love even if there’s no occasion since true love has earned a spot as one of man’s basic needs? It is not just a day.

So, happy everyday!

ang pag-ibig ay parang kurso, at vice-versa

2011-02-08T13:23:00.003+08:00

Ang pag-ibig ay parang kurso. Puwede mong i-try pero darating ang panahon at malalaman mong ayaw mo sa kanya o ayaw niya sa 'yo. Meron ring may nagtitiis sa relasyong apat na taon, gagradweyt, at pipiliing i-maintain ito kahit wala nang "fire"; saka na lang nila maiisip from the first place, wala talagang "fire" ang relasyong iyon. Meron namang deadma lang sa apat na taon, magku-cool off, at saka ma-rirealize na mahal pala nila ang isa't isa.

Pero pag wala talaga, 'wag na lang sanang ipilit. Maging friends na lang kayo ng kursong pinili mo at humanap ng iba, para win-win. Hindi ba?

aaaaaawww...

2011-02-05T12:00:00.003+08:00

I was eating this tasty combo of seafood last night when a girlfriend - thru text - surprised me with a plane ticket! How awesomely sweet is that?! If I were a boy, I would've proposed to her to be my v-date (hahaha!).

To P.E.D., you're one crazy woman. :)

it's also a regina spektor week!

2011-01-31T10:59:00.001+08:00

I just love this singer. And this music video. This is just perfect for the bulletin board work days.

it's a katy perry week

2011-01-31T10:37:00.002+08:00

She may have a list of racy songs but I'm so into her. 'Coz baby, she's a firework XD

that little something

2011-01-25T09:49:00.004+08:00

I was sipping the last of my coffee when Ma'am Aries, a Booksale competitor on everything Calvin and Hobbes, Dahl and Larson, approached me, this book in her hand:

She wanted me to have it; I couldn't say no. Thank you gid, Ma'am Aries! It's a collection of poems by Pulitzer Prize winner Charles Simic (even it's not by an award-winning author, I will not refuse hahaha), and here's the first:

I never run into anyone from the old days.
It's summer and I'm alone in the city.
I enter stores, apartment houses, offices
And find nothing remotely familiar.

The trees in the park - where they always so big?
And the birds so hidden, so quiet?
Where is the bus that passed this way?
Where are the greengrocers and hairdressers,

And that schoolhouse with the red fence?
Miss Harding is probably still at her desk,
Sighing as she grades papers late into the night.
The bummer is, I can't find the street.

All I can do is make another tour of the neighborhood,
Hoping I'll meet someone to show me the way
And a place to sleep, since I've no return ticket
To wherever it is I came from earlier this evening.

Later, I learned the title of the poem is "Walking". And in relation, here's a budding blogspot on walking and talking. :)

my first post-it cartoon!

2011-01-24T14:10:00.003+08:00

Did this in the middle of correcting a research study last night... Hahaha. Distracted or inspired?

*click image for bigger view

Got inspired by this site :)

it's a barbie world!

2011-01-24T12:24:00.003+08:00

It has been decided! We're going to have Barbie and Ken for Mr. & Ms. SSC! Yebaaah! I'm still part of the bulletin board and stage committee! And I cannot stop ending my sentences with exclamation marks!

I'm having a massive attack of ideas! Tadtad na ang brain ko T.T

P.S. Oh, for the occasion, let's just put aside some issues on sexuality, beauty and gender. :)

touched

2011-01-22T12:48:00.005+08:00

I usually let masseurs touch my back. Selected friends like Ivan and Willard can massage it. My mother would stroke it for me to sleep. But I'm uncomfortable if someone touches it without my consent even if it's harmless.

But today as our second class was nearing to end, a classmate who was sitting behind me suddenly poked the throbbing area of my back with her ballpen. Sensing my surprise and looming irritation, she softly said: "Sige lang. Relax." And I did because: (1)our teacher was still summarizing the reports, and (2) I don't know why. She even told me to stay after dismissal.

She gave me a back massage for 10 minutes; the one my back needed since December; my kind of massage - hard and thorough. And as she was doing this and talking about the relation of stress to back pains, I couldn't stop thanking her.

Her name is Rosario, a 30-something mother who works for UP Fisheries. Our only common factor is a family member who has special needs. And I just knew her name (I'm so patitik, lol). Thank you gid, Ma'am Rose. Your kindness startled. Your concern overwhelmed me (she saw me massaging my left shoulder during the first two reports). You, as a person, touched me.

Grabe ka, Lord. You always surprise me. Salamat, Panginoong Ama. :)

...

2011-01-18T09:26:00.001+08:00

nahidlaw ako sa imo

father-daughter conversation on age, body, children

2011-01-17T12:21:00.003+08:00

When we were having breakfast this morning, Tatay talked about his relatives who are in their 40s and 50s, stricken with cancer and other diseases that make adult health complicated. My father furthered that people his age are surprisingly deteriorating physically and even succumbing to death, even if they live in rural areas where they eat clean and organic food, breathe less polluted air and the like.

I added that the lifestyle since 1990s changed, when people started equating money to success, rush to life, lack of appliances/gadgets to social death. I told him that I am now living the "other half" of my life (since I estimated I could only and hopefully live until I'm 50) and it's almost a social expectation that when you reach the end of that phase, disease will own your body, medications will feed on your savings and insurance benefits, depression will seep into your loved ones' sleep.

"So let's say I'll marry and have my eldest when I reach 28. When I turn 45 and sickly, my child will be 17 - a college freshman - a phase where a child needs a parent."

"True," my father answered. "but it's not too late." He was referring to my habit, this generation's lifestyle of instant-ness and everything snip-snappy.

And when I was brushing my teeth, I couldn't help but regret some things I did to harm my body. 300-plus days of cigarette butts and filters. Years of beer bottles. More than a decade of unbalanced sleep. At 25, I feel physically unfit. But then, my father's right. It's not too late to change, even if I only have to live the other half of my life.

in the absence of the net, seek imagination

2011-01-16T14:06:00.003+08:00

Last June 2010, my younger brother armed himself with two design books from Booksale and a magazine from my old collection when he decided to enroll in the Interior Design Course. He told me he was not sure of his skill in sketching and drawing; he was afraid he will fail this course, his third since 2007. And with the absence of the internet - the all-around source of instant inspirations - his worries escalated. Of course, the net is very helpful especially for reference but I managed and convinced him to turn to the virtual world only if it's his last option and use his imagination in constructing his creations.

Eight months after a minimum relationship with the net, I could see sheets of tracing paper emanating his confident lines, smooth curves and a possible bright future.

Da Vinci and Michelangelo didn't have the net centuries ago and their art survived. I believe my brother can do too - well, with minimum net inspirations.

good for nothing?

2011-01-14T16:22:00.000+08:00

It's heartbreaking to hear a child say, "I'm not good at anything." I believe it's the right of every child to know that she or he is good in a thing or two before they go to college; thus, high school teachers should put an effort to make the child realize that.