Girl Friday

Talk about immersing myself in the oppsite gender.

Today, I was swamped in work still for the video project. Our group was trying to conceptualize the video and taking care of things that we'd be needing.

Since I was fixing up the script, I ended up not catching class at all. Feeling harassed, I decided to indulge Willa in a movie.

Unfortunately, Willa had been hankering to see "Till There was You", and so that was what we saw. After seeing the movie, all I have to say is...

Yuck.

It's not that I'm an elitist or something- on the contrary, I'm always on the prowl for a great Filipino movie. Not even great in the cinematic sense, but more on the entertaining side.

This is why I am an avid fan of Jologs and Trip. Trip may have been cheesy at times, but it was good watching. Jologs was a laugh-a-minute film. In fact, I even found "Got 2 Believe" and "Narinig Mo Ba ang Latest" pretty entertaining.

So you can see, my standards are pretty shallow. I was out on the prowl for a light-hearted movie (I'm a sucker for good marketing, what can I say?) and that I didn't get in "Till There Was You".

Habanapz said that this must have been because I was a guy and definitely not the target market of the movie. Hmm... perhaps, perhaps.

But there were too many topless scenes of Piolo than I cared to remember. At times, those scenes were totally irrelevant of the movie. Do I really need to see Piolo's pecs and abs? I don't think so. It wouldn't even make the story any better.

The plot is inconsistent. The kid is too mature to be believed. The premise is silly. And the love scene is way too long. I don't care if Judy Ann had to get drunk to do the love scene- do they need to spend 5 minutes showing it???

Of course, the movie does have it's moments. But there was just too much pa-cute to make the film likeable.

But really, if I had my way, I would've gone and watched Xerex or X2. Habanapz has been calling me a 3-dimensional loser for still not having watched X2.

After Work and Society, I was across the school, eating to my heart's content with Sam, Fran and Thongy. And suddenly, Sam goes "Am I ugly? Why don't I have a boy friend???"

And suddenly, I am cornered. I've got 3 girls in front of me and it is a Q & A on guys in general. Great, now I'm the leading authority on the male gender.

"Can you rate us as girls?"

Uh... rate?

"Analyze us! ... from a guy's point of view"

Wonderful. All I wanted was a good meal and now I had to analyze 3 girls. What they could do to be more alluring etc, etc...

Hoo boy, last time I did this was at Days With the Lord. And I hardly knew those girls so that was safe.

It is hard to tell a girl about herself. It's like a land mine waiting to explode. "Am I fat?", one of the more priceless gems and very dangerous questions to answer.

But there I was telling someone she was intimidating, and another that she was too distant. And they wanted more. Hmmm... not bad making a career out of this.

That's... er... female bonding for you. I was only too thankful to leave, before any more sensitive questions came flying my way.

---

Video City

Everything for a frustrated passion, which is film-making.

I am suffering from lack of sleep, frayed nerves, and the fact that I missed a Group Dynamics class. I also haven't had my Maria la del Barrio fix in 2 days! All in the name of making a video.

When our wonderful (I'm sarcastic) teacher announced that 40% of our final grade was a documentary of media throughout the 20th century, I was overjoyed. Nothing I'd have wanted more than to get a great grade doing something that I loved.

Putting it in Work and Society (Philo subject) terms, work fulfills my subjective aspect. Thus, it is not labor. But I digress.

Imagine the prospect of going to ABS-CBN and other television stations and getting clips of their old shows for a study on the evolution of media. It was thrilling, to say the least.

But now, 2 weeks later, I am slowly eating my words. Tonight looks like another sleepless night, as I try to complete the script for our documentary. Everything is so ambiguous because I am certain our teacher doesn't know what she wants either. Worse is that everybody has the same project, which spells competition.

If there's one thing I don't like in Comm, it's how everyone is pitted against each other. It's something like "Survivor: the UA&P Challenge", where everything is a mixture of politics, skill and I-don't-know-what-else.

It' everywhere- how team evaluations are meant to show who contributed what and who is lousy. It's in group reports where classmates have to shoot down the report of the reporting group. Dog-eat-dog to the nth power.

Really, it's only the time pressure that is getting me stressed. Otherwise, I would like to believe, we're fine.

Joy and I were digging through books in the Comm lab awhile ago, thinking of video clips that we'd like in our video. All the while, we were reminiscing old shows like "That's Entertainment", "Ang TV", "TGIS" and what have you.

I was reminded of my one, embarassing appearance on "Today with Kris" some 4 years ago back in High School. It was for a field trip and I was unwittingly placed in the first row.

Much to my consternation, Kris approached me when before the show started, "Excuse me, I'll interview you for the first portion of the show, ha". Great.

During the show, it was a very stilted conversation.

Kris: Let's interview some members of the audience. You there, let me ask you some questions. What's your name?
Me: Um... Bundi?
Kris: Whaaat?
Me: (a little louder) Uh... Bundi.
Kris: I didn't get that. Could you spell it?
Me: B-U-N-D-I
Kris: Aaay, Bundi. Parang bundy clock, a. What a cute name!

Talk about mortifying moments on television. Not my last appearance, though. But I swear, when we get to the ABS-CBN video library, I am making sure that I get a copy of that episode.

And it's back to the grind for me. Can't believe I'm now resorting to downloading songs of the 40's over Kazaa! The beauty of technology!

* * *

Conversation with LJ last night, regarding Silver Lining a.k.a. SOMEONE a.k.a. Out of My League

LJ: So ano na? What's going on na with you and her?
Me: Nothing.
LJ: Woooo.... nothing daw.
Me: If there's nothing happening, then there's nothing to tell.
LJ: So why don't you just tell her? Chicken.
Me: Excuse me, but my feelings have a 2-year gestation period. (right, T?)
LJ: How long has it been na ba?
Me: Er... 3 years. (pillow comes flying toward me)

Ah... the sad story of my ka-torpehan!

---

Losing My Grip

There are things that are beyond my control, and it's frustrating because it seems as if I can't do anything about them.

Lately, I've been feeling as if I'm losing my grip on a lot of things which I believe I was fairly decent at. Result is one extremely troubled College student. Me.

I like to fashion myself as someone with some matter beween his ears. True, there are times when I can be really dense, and there are other instances when I can get really shallow (just tell me a corny joke and I can laugh for 15 minutes straight), but I have always liked to think that I had some substance in me.

Back in Grade School, I remember being picked as a member of a club named GEMS (Gifted Education in Math and Science). The club picked "gifted" students among the batch. And I must admit that it was flattering as much as it was boring and useless. It doesn't say much either, as I barely tolerate Science and my system outrightly rejects Math.

I recall telling myself back in High School that I could excel once the curriculum did not have a new language, or a subject with numbers. Look where I am now.

So why is it that I can't, for the life of me, understand Philosophy??? It's in English, and the words are written in sentences, yet it is a whole new language all together. Somehow I just can't force my mind to think upside down!

It's like Chinese class back in Xavier all over again. The teacher was in front of the room and her lips were moving. She was saying something. Yet I had absolutely no idea what she was saying. That is how I feel now. The difference though is that Philo is in English, and yet it is still something I somehow can't grasp. And no, it can't be remedied by hours of memorization, like what I did for Chinese.

To think the class is a 3.5 hour class. And it is indeed very draining. Yet if there's one thing I hate, it's sitting in that room and not knowing squat. And my cluelessness does not even happen to be by choice!

Aristotle had all the time in the world to ponder, but I am weighed down with 2 reports and a video!

Once upon a time, I was also under the impression that I was a good writer. Lately, I am taking back that baseless high regard for myself.

Before, writing used to be such a breeze. Put me in front of the computer and it all flows out. Essays, letters, term papers or what have you. They were a piece of cake.

These days however, writing papers has become such a chore. I had a Comm and Society paper due today, and I spent an hour agonizing over the introduction! And this is not the first time it's happened.

Call it writer's block or even intellectual constipation. I think my muses have gone on permanent leave!

The change in my driving is also becoming apparent. Maybe for the good, perhaps.

I never really thought I was affected by hitting that old man 7 months ago. But my trauma is manifesting itself in different ways.

Habanapz can attest to the little gasps I make whenever a pedestrian is about to cross. Sometimes I do panic. And let's not get started on my driving

Before the accident, the world was my highway. It was a high putting the car in high gear, driving really fast, and overtaking. These days, I still maintain some speed, but gone is the confidence.

The highways are now accidents waiting to happen, and I am scared of danger waiting to catch me off guard. South Expressway used to be Heaven. Now it's plain scary. C-5 was once a racetrack, now it feels like a bowling alley with humans as pins, begging to be hit.

Peaks and valleys. I think I happen to be in a valley right now. Oh man, I need to get out of this slump.

* * *

Came from the wake again tonight. This time with my mom. We went to "visit our respective 'deadies'" as my dad so bluntly put it.

My mom had to pay her respects to someone in Paz-Sucat. And since the wake of LJ's dad was there, it was deemed practical that I drive for my mom.

I found LJ doing fine. But it was a shame that I had to leave early since my mom had no intention of hanging around for long. I wish I could have stayed way into the night with her, just to keep her company.

I think I'm beginning to be a bit too "at home" there. But then again, LJ's family knows me pretty well, especially after our little mishap last August. Funny how LJ said, "Come again!" when I was leaving. I'm happy to see her taking things well.

* * *

I think long drives are good for my relationship with my mom. For some reason, she becomes more relaxed, more comfortable and less... annoying.

She becomes more of a friend and a confidante and less of the harried, uptight person that I am used to. And this allows me to keep my temper on the road.

2 years ago, while I was driving for my mom, she asked out of the blue: "Is _________ your girlfriend" and I almost drove off the road. See, I like to keep my lovelife away from the prying eyes of my family. But at that time, I was ready to tell her. I didn't though.

Let's just hope that "amiable mood" doesn't confine itself to "long drives". I can't keep driving all my life to keep the peace!

---

Small World

Who would've thought that a silly, nursery song could ring so much truth?

I realize my world is getting smaller and smaller all the time. Sometimes, it's very amusing really.

It's interesting to find out that you are connected to some person by another person. Or a person you meet online is a friend (nyet, barkada even) of a good friend in school. That kind of thing.

With this, inevitably, your world grows smaller and smaller. Too small at times, that it becomes suffocating.

There are times though when it can get VERY small. You how small it is when your dad has lunch with your Spanish teacher of last sem.

One of my dad's friends is the best friend of my Spanish teacher, who incidentally is also the person my dad contacts when he needs German translations. He met her for the first time today.

I remember scrolling through the address book of my dad's phone some time last year and coming across the name of my Spanish teacher. I just had to ask, "Quien es _______?" (Who is _______?). When my dad told me that she was his German translator, I was amused at how little the world was.

I guess it became even smaller today when they had lunch together.

It's not that I mind... much. But I have this little neurosis with keeping my worlds separate from each other. Especially when it has to do with my parents.

When I entered college, I was enjoying the freedom of a much larger world wherein there would be zero chance of my parents encroaching upon my newfound territory.

My "school world" is different from my "family world", and I'd rather that it stay that way. I don't like my every move being reported to my parents because this makes me exaggeratedly conscious of my actions.

It stems back to my Grade School years when my parents had a friend who was one of the higher-ups back in Xavier. And she'd hitch with my parents everyday, thus my parents got a blow-by-blow report of what I was doing in school, my little blunders and all that. At times, I'd hear them laughing about something I did (even if at that time I didn't think it was funny).

Because of that, I carry that neurosis up to today. I know I haven't done anything laughable in Spanish class, and I am aware that I am not the only topic worth discussing over lunch, but the smallness of the world really gets me freaking out at times.

Somebody stop the world. I want to get off!

* * *

Today is a day for giving in.

I gave into my inner need to have the mp3 of "Out of My League" by Stephen Speaks.

This is one of my favorite songs and I have been rationing the instances when I hear this song so I won't tire of it. But after too many times of begging Joy to play it in her laptop, I decided to download a copy of my own.

Of course, my listening to the song is still very rationed.

I have also given in to getting a commenting code. Yes, Persh, I gave in! I guess that it's time to have one.

Initially, I was apprehensive about getting one. I've always blogged for myself, and I felt that getting a commenting code aside from a tag-board would mean that I was commercializing my blog (the idiosyncrasies of being me. Don't mind them).

But for about a month now, aside from Persh's pointing out the need for it, I have also been seeing it's usefulness. So I've decided to give it a try. Thank you very much, Jo for the YACCS account. You can now call me "Drama Queen"! hehe!

Call it O/C but when I put in a commenting code, I didn't want to have just any commenting server. I wanted the YACCS thing since it looked great. Thus, I got one from Jo! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Give it awhile before it's up, though. I'm still figuring out the whole thing.

---

Gone Too Soon

"Like a sunset dying with the rising of the moon..."

I just came from Paranaque where the wake was held. Like I said earlier, I just wanted to be there for LJ as much as possible.

Together with Habanapz and Bry, we made our way to Sucat. As soon as I heard the news, I scheduled my day today to be able to see LJ by tonight.

If there's one thing about funeral chapels and wakes, it's that you just don't know how to conduct yourself. You don't know how to act towards the bereaved because you don't know how he or she is feeling. There is always the fear of doing or saying the wrong thing.

It's really awkward. I mean, you just want to be there for your friend but you don't know how to approach her. LJ is one of my dearest friends and we can talk about anything and everything, and yet I was at a loss for words awhile ago.

And you don't know if it's right to laugh, or if some remark you made was appropriate. Since the family knew us, they even let us into the private room. However, the whole thing was still very uneasy. Back there, I didn't want to move, eat or touch anything. Out of shyness, maybe.

But I was glad that I got to be there for LJ, if anything. It's sad that because for one, her birthday is coming up this month and second, we haven't seen each other for awhile and the time we get to see each other is under very tragic circumstances.

Going to a wake gets you thinking about the unthinkable: your own mortality and that of your loved ones.

It is a reality, and yet it is a thought that you'd want to evade for as long as can be. Never even, if that is possible at all. Death is a very taboo subject and it has every right to be. The thought of losing someone very close is a most certainly a grief that could never be put into words.

It is big loss. In the funeral chapel, I felt like crying-- more for LJ than anything.

The very cliche line, "I know how you feel" may be one of the worst things you can say to those left behind by the deceased, but I could definitely feel for the gravity of Ate Liza's loss.

Even if time does heal all wounds, there is absolutely nothing that can replace the void that her father has left in her life. And the least her friends can do is to be there for her when she needs them.

But at least her dad is now in a world far better than this one.

All this brings to mind the song of Sarah McLachlan, "Angel":

"In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here"

---

The Morning After

"My father is dead... thanks for your prayers"

I woke up to this text from LJ this morning. And suddenly, I didn't know what to do. After a restless and short sleep, I was still feeling the effects of all that beer swirling through my system.

I didn't know just what to text or say to her to make her feel better. I didn't know if I should call her or something. How do you comfort a very close friend at a time of loss? I mean, the remedy for tragedies like this is not as simple as going over to your friend with a whole load of beer for "drinking the night away". It's not that easy.

I am terribly afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing, especially in something as sensitive as this.I have a hard time approaching sadness, and another thing is that I could be considered the "King of Foot in Mouth Situations". But above all these concerns, I just want to be there for her.

I've met her dad once, just last year. He helped Bry and I settle an accident with a tricycle driver, and we were really embarassed that he came to our aid in the middle of night to help iron out the whole thing.

Funny how you never really know when it's your time to go. But her dad is in a better place now, if that's the only consolation and comfort it offers.

With my energy still sapped, I suddenly am awarded with the task of driving my mom to Megamall because she wanted to immerse herself in the 3-Day Sale. Today, that place was a real madhouse. Who says that the Filipino people are afraid of SARS? Who says that the Filipino people have fallen on hard times? The crowd at Megamall was enough to dispute all that.

My mom has this penchant for sales. She is normally very tight-fisted, but she is a female all the same (and I believe that the word "sale" has some effect on the female nervous system) and is prone to bouts of insanity in a sale. My mom who makes museums out of shops (as in look around but never buy) was today one helluvan aggressive shopper.

Normally, I have no qualms about diving into very crowded areas. I remember how I used to love the Christmas rush in Greenhills. But I think I'm becoming more finicky as I get older. Suddenly, I'm finding it really annoying to be bumped, stepped on, shoved and pushed around in a crowd.

One thing I love about a mall is the house wares section. I like poring over furniture, appliances and whatever little useful things I could find for the house. This is why I also love making trips to Ace Hardware. Everything seems so handy.

At one point, I was even debating with my mom for an hour on the merits of a Rubbermaid trash can versus a Sterilite trash can. How positively domestic of me.

For all the trouble of diving into the crowds, I wasn't even able to pick up anything for myself. There were just too many people.

The only plus of the whole expedition was that I was able to con my mom into buying a few VCDs.

One VCD was "Bring It On", my favorite, brainless movie. I used to have a copy, but I lent it out sometime last year and it never found its way back home. Added bonus was that it was selling for a mere Php 100!

Another VCD was the original "Little Mermaid". Can you believe that I have never seen this animated film in all it's entirety? I may have caught a portion or 2, and I memorize "Part of Your World" and "Kiss the Girl", but I have never seen the whole thing.

Third is this ancient Sesame Street video called "Follow That Bird", which I used to have a Betamax of back when I was 3 years old. I loved that film to bits, and it was a constant weekend treat. Unfortunately, our neighbor shared the same sentiments and one day, returned the tape all scratched up and unwatchable. And now I have it back again!

It's times like these when my mom and I are fine with each other. There's none of that mutual antagonism and the threat of war that is always ever-present on a day-to-day basis.

Talk about long, eventful morning. I finally got lunch at 3 and my long overdue sleep right after that.

So much for break time. Classes beckon once again tomorrow... *sigh!*

* * *

Previous post is meant to immortalize my very wasted state. When I got home last night, I just knew I had to blog! But thankfully, no hangovers though!

By the way, I am starting to want a Magic Mic of my own... argh!