Thursday, September 30, 2004
In or out sana'y okay sa 'yo at 'di ako magtatampo...
The new season of the PBA will be opening this weekend, and of course, like many other basketball fans, I'm especially looking forward to the opening because of the muses for each team.My favorite team, Purefoods, apparently is going with Karel Marquez, but only after their first choice, Sandara Park, had to beg off (I guess she's out). It goes in line with the team's tradition of picking teen stars for their muse, like last conference when they had Jennylyn Mercado.
Today's Manila Bulletin also has a list for the other teams as well: Tessa Nieto (Sta. Lucia Realty), Cindy Kurleto (San Miguel), Maureen Larazzabal (Ginebra), Cheska Litton (FedEx), Maricel Soriano (Alaska), Gwennaelle Ruais (Red Bull), Karel Marquez (Purefoods), and Angel Locsin (Coca-Cola). For my money, I think Coke's the winner.
The Bulletin also reported that Talk N Text will be signing up Jasmine Trias as their muse, but this Philippine Star report says that she won't be able to make it.
Speaking of Jasmine Trias, I was watching TV the other night and her commercial came on, and I can't help but think that there's really nothing particularly special about her. I mean, Sarah Geronimo is a better singer, she's cuter and she doesn't come off as totally plastic in her interviews, which is more than you could say for Jasmine.
But then again, Sandara Park comes off like a total bitch in her interviews but everyone still adores her, so much so that last month, every other local magazine had her face plastered on the cover. But I don't really mind, she really does look adorable.
...kung in ako or out sa puso mo.
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
China chow
I stumbled upon this cool article about the cheap eats in Chinatown, and I'm suddenly hungry. We really ought to go there the next time we head out to Quiapo. The only problem would be, as always, where would Alekos eat?Hehe, 'wag na lang nating kayang isama si Alekos. Late na nga siya dumating dati, tapos puro teeny-bopper movies pa yung binibili.
Jok lang Leks!
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Stoned slackers
The Daily Show's Jon Stewart appeared on conservative media attack dog Bill O'Reilly's program earlier this month to promote his new book, and O'Reilly decided to poke a little fun at Jon Stewart's influence among the voting populace."You know what's really frightening?" O'Reilly said. "You actually have an influence on this presidential election. That is scary, but it's true. You've got stoned slackers watching your dopey show every night and they can vote."
The teasing may have been meant in good fun, but Stewart's Comedy Central bosses were annoyed, so they decided to do a little research and discovered that their audience of "stoned slackers" is actually more educated than viewers of O'Reilly's program. It backs up the findings of an earlier poll saying that viewers of late-night comedy were better-informed about political issues. And the most well-informed of all late-night viewers? Yep, you guessed it right, Jon Stewart's gang of stoned slackers.
If you've seen The Daily Show, you wouldn't be surprised by the polls' results. It's probably the most intelligently-written in American television, and its strength lies in the fact that it trusts its audience to be intelligent enough to handle what it dishes out. Of course, of the thousands of news satire shows in the history of television, there has never been a host quite as clever and dead-on as Jon Stewart.
It's too bad we only get it on TV once a week (The Daily Show Global Edition runs on CNN every Saturday night at 11:30, with a repeat on Sunday night also at 11:30, WATCH IT). But hey, that's why we have the Internet.
Playing all morning
Everything but the Girl - Cross My HeartPete Yorn - Just Another
The Cranberries - Linger
Jeff Buckley - Lover, You Should Have Come Over
Michelle Branch - Till I Get Over You
Nada Surf - If You Leave
Liz Phair - Why Can't I
Smashing Pumpkins - Landslide
Tori Amos - A Sorta Fairy Tale
Old 97's - Question
Bic Runga - Sway
Badly Drawn Boy - Something to Talk About
Fiona Apple - Across the Universe
Ben Folds Five - Brick
The Sundays - Here's Where the Story Ends
Edwyn Collins - A Girl Like You
Vanessa Carlton - A Thousand Miles
Belle and Sebastian - Wrapped Up in Books
Plumb - Real
U2 - All I Want Is You
Monday, September 27, 2004
Last Song Syndrome
Now and thenDo you wash your hands of me again?
Wish me anywhere but home
Drunk and on the end of your phone
From time to time
Do you guess what's really on my mind?
Guess that "How you keeping now?"
Means "Where are you sleeping now"
But of course it's not polite
To ask you where you spent last night
And if I did you might reply
That I have no right
And anyway I'm fine
Glad that you're no longer mine
If I should tell a lie
I'll cross my heart and hope to die
You'd be appalled
If you knew what I was doing
When you called
Yes, I can see I'm blundering
Always end up wondering
Will it ever be alright
To ask you where you spent last night
And can it be polite
The way we never write,
Of course I don't have the time,
And anyway I'm fine
If I should tell a lie
I'll cross my hear and hope to die
I hope we never die
Tsokolate eh
I got a kick out of reading about 18-year old Spanish point guard Sergio Rodriguez, MVP of the Euroepean Junior Championships, and how he patterned his game after Jason Williams when the latter was still the hoops wizard known as White Chocolate.I dunno, I guess I just find it funny that if Rodriguez ever makes it to the L, we could call him Serge Chocolate.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Bateer
He (Chinese center Mengke Bateer) was expected to follow in his father's footsteps as a shepherd in the northern Chinese province of Inner Mongolia, but he had a major growth spurt, shooting up to six feet tall by the first grade.
[from the Newark Star-Ledger]
Alam niyo ba kung bakit lumaki nang ganyan si Bateer? Dahil mahilig siyang mag-Bateer.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Limampu't limang kathang isip
Halaw sa 55 Fiction"Binibini"
Naranasan mo na bang makasakay sa jeep ang isang binibining pagbaba'y tangay na'ng puso mo?
Kumabog ba'ng iyong dibdib, takot na baka ang sulyap mong una'y huli na? Humabol ka ba nang walang-kasing tulin, at sa pagtanaw sa maamo niyang mukha, nagulat ka sa mga salitang lumabas sa kanyang bibig?
Bakit, ngongo rin ba siya?
How you doin'? ;)
I just downloaded and watched the pilot of the new Matt LeBlanc sitcom Joey, which is, of course, a spin-off of Friends. It was laugh-out loud funny, which doesn't really surprise me; Joey has been carrying Friends for years, since Chandler stopped being funny after he was completely emasculated by Monica (it's bad enough when that happens to Alekos in his own Friendster page). The writers of Friends almost screwed it up for Joey too when they made him fall in love with Rachel, but thank God there was no way the series was ending without Ross and Rachel getting back together.But let's get back to the show. As a big fan of both Cheers and its spin-off Frasier, I could appreciate the fact that Joey is a much different show than its predecessor. At the very least, it is geared to showcase Matt LeBlanc's talents. It's up to the rest of the cast to step up big time if they want the show to be as successful a spinoff as Frasier was.
Heh
Headline on today's Manila Bulletin: GMA pledges not to do a Marcos.Funny, she also said she wouldn't run.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Never again (?)
Today marks the 32nd anniversary of Ferdinand Marcos' declaration of Martial Law, and no one paints as vividly the situation then and now as Conrado de Quiros. In yesterday's column, he recounts the situation during the Marcos years. Today, he highlights the similarities between the period before Martial Law and the situation we find ourselves in today.Perhaps most stark among these is the fact that back then, people who came from elite classes, let the President get away with these things, thinking it wouldn't affect them.
The business community, chief of them foreign investors, certainly applauded (Martial Law), alarmed by the rallies that were getting more strident by the day and finding in dictatorial rule the ideal conditions for making business, namely one that guaranteed low wages and high profit. The only time they would complain was when Marcos started stealing from them.
It certainly affected them, as it continues to affect us today. A college history professor of mine, Prof. Diestro, once told us that we were part of this society's elite, that is, the intellectual elite. We hold this country's intellectual capital, and too often, we take this for granted.
We end letting people in government get away with doing the wrong things thinking it wouldn't affect us. Just how recently was it that we let the incumbent president cheat her way to victory while raising nary a peep because we didn't want some other candidate to win? We let her get away with that, what would keep her from getting away with so much more?
They say those who do not read history are doomed to repeat it. I used to think it was just a funny joke from Prof. Diestro's class. I guess I don't think it's so funny anymore.
Monday, September 20, 2004
Heroes
Last Sunday I caught an interview of PCGG Chair Haydee Yorac with Lorraine Hahn on CNN's Talk Asia. She was on the show talking about her work in public service and governance for which she was awarded this year's Ramon Magsaysay Award for Government Service. The awards are considered the Asian equivalent of the Nobel Prize.The last time Haydee Yorac was in the news, she was objecting to the administration's impending nomination of Ernesto Maceda to the board of the San Miguel Corporation, which was, of course, her duty as PCGG Chair. What was so remarkable about it was that she was actually in sickbed at the time, recovering from a stroke AND battling a cancerous growth in her ovaries. To the rest of us, she was that memorable Comelec commissioner who popularized the indelible ink.
The best part of the weekend's interview was Atty. Yorac talking about the progress she was making in her stint in the PCGG. She discussed how, when she took over, there were only 13 lawyers with the government agency, so she went back to the University of the Philippines and recruited bright, young faculty members to join her in her crusade to recover ill-gotten wealth. Today, she says, the number of lawyers have increased to 41.
This prompted Lorraine Hahn to ask her, as idealistic as she was, if it weren't tough for her to expect the same kind of idealism and passion from the people she recruited to her cause. To this, Atty. Yorac simply answered that it wasn't, because as remarkable as her idealism and passion is, it wasn't unique to her. She wasn't cynical, she was never cynical, and she never believed that she was alone.
What I find sad about this is how little play Haydee Yorac's award in the mainstream media, which is more interested with the state of Aga and Charlene's marriage. Don't get me wrong, I love showbiz chismis as much as the next person, but there's no reason media outlets couldn't give this story at least as much airtime.
When you come to think of it, Atty. Yorac's even lucky that she's at least popular, unlike the other Filipino laureate this year, Benjamin Abadiano of the Tabang Mindanaw project, in spite of his numerous accomplishments working with the indigenous people of Mindoro and Mindanao. Of course, it's hard to expect regular people to care when we have a president who wouldn't miss the opportunity to take a picture with Dao Ming Sz, but would gladly snub the awarding ceremonies of the Ramon Magsaysay Awards.
But despite Gloria, we ought to care about what people like Haydee Yorac and Benjamin Abadiano have done, if only because, as people who care about our country deeply, they're the people we ought to be looking to for inspiration. Because, as much as we care for our country, it would always be too easy for us to think about giving up on it.
It would be too easy for us to just throw our hands in the air and ask what the point would be. But then, we could look at the things people like Haydee Yorac and Benjamin Abadiano have done, and think about how much they've done, how far we've come, how it's not alright to waste all of their efforts, and how all of it is still worth continuing. That would be the point.
Friday, September 17, 2004
Rewind
A note: About a year ago, I used to have a crush on this girl. It wasn't a big enough crush that anything came out of it, but it was a big enough crush that I had the crazy idea to write a 3,000-word story that I hoped she would like (crazy, I know). I'm not saying the story's about her, but I sure was thinking a lot about her when I wrote it. Hey, she's a great girl, and it's a testament to her being a great sport that we're still friends. Hindi katulad ng mga manliligaw ni Tseri, hehehe.Anyway, I know this is all sooo last year, but I was poking around earlier and got around to reading the story. I cringed a little, thinking I was trying to impress a girl with *this*, but hey, what are you gonna do? I was young, hungry, fresh out of college, and unbelievably stupid.
So I figured, hell, why not post the story here again. Someone might be bored enough over the weekend to sit through the whole damn thing.
Oh, and I changed the title to something a bit more appropriate. Enjoy!
"Superhero"
Isang katutak na sorry na lang ang nagawa ko para sa mamang nabangga ko paglabas ng elevator. Mabuti na lang at nakalata ang bitbit niyang mga San Miguel Super Dry. Mukhang mabait naman yung mama, dahil sa halip na singhal at mura, isang ngiti na lang ang ibinigay niya sa akin, kasunod ng isang mahinang, "Ok lang, pare." Mabuti naman, dahil bukod sa kaya niya siguro akong gulpihin, nagmamadali na talaga ako.
Isa pang sorry mula sa akin, pagkatapos ay halos kumaripas na ako ng takbo palabas ng building.
Siguro nabangga ko siya dahil hindi na ako sanay. Halos buong araw akong nakaupo sa tapat ng computer. Sinasabi nga ng nanay ko, nagpapaka-martir sa trabaho na napakababa ng sweldo. Naka-schedule na nga raw akong barilin sa Luneta eh.
Pero ewan ko, sa totoo lang, merong ilang bahagi ng utak na nagi-guilty sa tuwing kumukuha ako ng sweldo. May isang bahagi na sumisigaw, "Magnanakaw, magnanakaw!" dahil hindi naman talaga "trabaho" ang trabaho ko, hindi naman ito mahirap para sa akin (dahil OO, magaling ako), at dahil nag-e-enjoy akong gawin ito. Merong isang bahagi na nagsasabing sobra-sobra ang nakukuha ko, dahil ginagawa ko rin ang ganitong trabaho noong college kapalit ng pagkain. At meron namang isa pang bahagi na nagi-guilty, na nagsasabing kung mas malaki yung sinasahod ko, 'di sana mas marami akong natutulungan, at wala na akong excuse na hindi tumulong.
Kung kaya naman hindi ko maintindihan yung mga musician, mga artista, at mga basketball player na nagsasabing mahal nila ang ginagawa nila, pero kung sumingil naman, parang balak na nilang mag-retire kinabukasan. Tulad nga ng sabi sa kanta, "They get money for nothing and chicks for free."
Eh yung ginagawa naman nila, wala lang. Tapos ni hindi sila nagi-guilty. Eh ako nga, wala nang money, wala pang chicks. Pero nagi-guilty pa rin ako.
Isa pang sorry mula sa akin, pagkatapos ay halos kumaripas na ako ng takbo palabas ng building.
Siguro nabangga ko siya dahil hindi na ako sanay. Halos buong araw akong nakaupo sa tapat ng computer. Sinasabi nga ng nanay ko, nagpapaka-martir sa trabaho na napakababa ng sweldo. Naka-schedule na nga raw akong barilin sa Luneta eh.
Pero ewan ko, sa totoo lang, merong ilang bahagi ng utak na nagi-guilty sa tuwing kumukuha ako ng sweldo. May isang bahagi na sumisigaw, "Magnanakaw, magnanakaw!" dahil hindi naman talaga "trabaho" ang trabaho ko, hindi naman ito mahirap para sa akin (dahil OO, magaling ako), at dahil nag-e-enjoy akong gawin ito. Merong isang bahagi na nagsasabing sobra-sobra ang nakukuha ko, dahil ginagawa ko rin ang ganitong trabaho noong college kapalit ng pagkain. At meron namang isa pang bahagi na nagi-guilty, na nagsasabing kung mas malaki yung sinasahod ko, 'di sana mas marami akong natutulungan, at wala na akong excuse na hindi tumulong.
Kung kaya naman hindi ko maintindihan yung mga musician, mga artista, at mga basketball player na nagsasabing mahal nila ang ginagawa nila, pero kung sumingil naman, parang balak na nilang mag-retire kinabukasan. Tulad nga ng sabi sa kanta, "They get money for nothing and chicks for free."
Eh yung ginagawa naman nila, wala lang. Tapos ni hindi sila nagi-guilty. Eh ako nga, wala nang money, wala pang chicks. Pero nagi-guilty pa rin ako.
"'Wag mo akong sisihin, kung minsan ika'y hanapin, ito ang unang araw na wala ka na..."
Isang linya lang mula sa kanta at naalala ko na naman siya, at pansamantala akong natigil sa pagsusulat. Inilapag ko ang hawak kong ballpen sa mesa, at tinanggal ko muna ang salamin mula sa 'king mga mata.
Nang sandaling yun ko lang napansin na wala na palang ibang tao sa cafe. Matagal na ring ubos ang cake na inorder ko kanina, habang malamig na ang hot chocolate sa tasa ko na hindi ko na naubos. Nakaupo na lang ang dalawang waitress sa isang sulok, maingay na nagtsi-tsismisan tungkol sa sikyo sa katabing bangko habang wala ang kanilang amo.
Madami-daming pahina na rin ng notebook ang napuno ko, at saka ko lang din napansin na sumasakit na ang kanang kamay ko sa pagsusulat. Pati ang kalyo sa hinlalato ko ay namamaga na rin. Nagsusulat ako tungkol sa mga bagay na wala naman akong pakialam, mga bagay kung saan wala naman talaga ang puso ko. Minsan, sa mga ganitong pagtigil sa pagsusulat, iniisip ko kung meron pa akong kaluluwa. Sa dinami-daming beses kong inisip ang sagot sa tanong na 'yan, hindi ko pa rin alam. Siguro dahil natatakot na din akong malaman.
Bigla ko ring napansin ang pagod na bumalot bigla sa 'king katawan. Inisip kong ipikit ang mga mata ko, pero napigilan ko ang sarili ko bago ko ito magawa. Sigurado kasi akong kapag pumikit ako, mukha niya lang ang makikita ko. Ngumingiti ng sobrang tamis, parang nanunukso, nanunuya, nananakit.
Masakit, hindi dahil sa ayokong makita ang mukha niya, ang ngiti niya, ngunit dahil sa tuwing makikita ko siya, kahit sa pagpikit ko lang, hindi ko mapigilang maalala rin na wala na siya. Pero sa pangalawang pagkakataon, hindi ko na rin napigilan ang pagpikit. Hindi ko rin siya matiis na hindi makita, kahit sa pagpikit ko lang. Dalawang taon na ang nakalipas, pero sa tuwing pumipikit ako, nararamdaman ko na parang kahapon lang nangyari ang lahat.
At parang ito nga ang unang araw na wala na siya.
Isang linya lang mula sa kanta at naalala ko na naman siya, at pansamantala akong natigil sa pagsusulat. Inilapag ko ang hawak kong ballpen sa mesa, at tinanggal ko muna ang salamin mula sa 'king mga mata.
Nang sandaling yun ko lang napansin na wala na palang ibang tao sa cafe. Matagal na ring ubos ang cake na inorder ko kanina, habang malamig na ang hot chocolate sa tasa ko na hindi ko na naubos. Nakaupo na lang ang dalawang waitress sa isang sulok, maingay na nagtsi-tsismisan tungkol sa sikyo sa katabing bangko habang wala ang kanilang amo.
Madami-daming pahina na rin ng notebook ang napuno ko, at saka ko lang din napansin na sumasakit na ang kanang kamay ko sa pagsusulat. Pati ang kalyo sa hinlalato ko ay namamaga na rin. Nagsusulat ako tungkol sa mga bagay na wala naman akong pakialam, mga bagay kung saan wala naman talaga ang puso ko. Minsan, sa mga ganitong pagtigil sa pagsusulat, iniisip ko kung meron pa akong kaluluwa. Sa dinami-daming beses kong inisip ang sagot sa tanong na 'yan, hindi ko pa rin alam. Siguro dahil natatakot na din akong malaman.
Bigla ko ring napansin ang pagod na bumalot bigla sa 'king katawan. Inisip kong ipikit ang mga mata ko, pero napigilan ko ang sarili ko bago ko ito magawa. Sigurado kasi akong kapag pumikit ako, mukha niya lang ang makikita ko. Ngumingiti ng sobrang tamis, parang nanunukso, nanunuya, nananakit.
Masakit, hindi dahil sa ayokong makita ang mukha niya, ang ngiti niya, ngunit dahil sa tuwing makikita ko siya, kahit sa pagpikit ko lang, hindi ko mapigilang maalala rin na wala na siya. Pero sa pangalawang pagkakataon, hindi ko na rin napigilan ang pagpikit. Hindi ko rin siya matiis na hindi makita, kahit sa pagpikit ko lang. Dalawang taon na ang nakalipas, pero sa tuwing pumipikit ako, nararamdaman ko na parang kahapon lang nangyari ang lahat.
At parang ito nga ang unang araw na wala na siya.
Merong mga gabing nakahiga ka na lang sa kama mo, feeling mo wala kang silbi, walang kang control. Parang hindi iyo ang buhay mo. Parang hindi iyo ang gabi mo.
Hindi ito ganitong klaseng gabi, dahil AKIN ang gabing 'to.
Pagod na pagod na ko, at wala pa rin akong tulog simula kagabi. Pero sabi ko nga (para na akong lasing, paulit-ulit), akin ang gabing 'to. Tulog, tulog, kalokohan!
Actually, hindi talaga akin ang gabing 'to (labo ba?). Inangkin ko lang para sa kanya, para sa birthday niya. Sinabi niya sa akin mga dalawang linggo na ang nakaraan na ayaw niyang maghanda ako ng anything special para sa birthday niya. Pero nandito ako ngayon, naghahanda pa rin ng something special para sa birthday niya. Alam naman nating lahat na hindi siya nagsasabi ng totoo nung sinabi niya sa akin na ayaw niya ng something special para sa birthday niya, 'di ba?
Anong ginagawa ko? Madami, actually. Nagsimula ako nung isang araw, nung kinausap ko yung mga housemate ko. "Aalis ba kayo ng bahay nang Tuesday night kapag binigyan ko kayo ng pera pang-sine?"
"Oo naman, kami pa, madali kaming mga kausap. Pero pare, 'di ka ba mas makakamura niyan kung nag-motel ka na lang?"
"Mga gago! Wholesome 'to, pare. Wholesome."
"Wholesome daw o."
Eh wholesome naman talaga 'tong gimik ko para sa kanya. Pwede ba namang hindi? Sinabi ko sa sarili ko, balak ko siyang ipagluto. Sinabi ko rin na sisiguraduhin ko na masasarapan siya sa lulutuin ko, kahit ito na ang pinakahuling beses na magluto ako.
Siyempre, umuwi ako sa bahay namin para magpaturong magluto ng morcon. Morcon pa talaga yung pinangarap ko eh, 'no, kung pwede namang fried chicken na lang. I mean, maa-appreciate din naman niya yun, kase una, hindi rin naman siya marunong magluto, at pangalawa, mahal naman daw niya ako eh (sabi niya yun ha). Pero hinde, dapat special para sa kanya.
Kaya eto. Pagkatapos ng ilang muntik nang sunog sa kusina at di na mabilang na paso sa kamay ko, handa na akong pakainin siya ng morcon ngayong gabi.
Hindi ito ganitong klaseng gabi, dahil AKIN ang gabing 'to.
Pagod na pagod na ko, at wala pa rin akong tulog simula kagabi. Pero sabi ko nga (para na akong lasing, paulit-ulit), akin ang gabing 'to. Tulog, tulog, kalokohan!
Actually, hindi talaga akin ang gabing 'to (labo ba?). Inangkin ko lang para sa kanya, para sa birthday niya. Sinabi niya sa akin mga dalawang linggo na ang nakaraan na ayaw niyang maghanda ako ng anything special para sa birthday niya. Pero nandito ako ngayon, naghahanda pa rin ng something special para sa birthday niya. Alam naman nating lahat na hindi siya nagsasabi ng totoo nung sinabi niya sa akin na ayaw niya ng something special para sa birthday niya, 'di ba?
Anong ginagawa ko? Madami, actually. Nagsimula ako nung isang araw, nung kinausap ko yung mga housemate ko. "Aalis ba kayo ng bahay nang Tuesday night kapag binigyan ko kayo ng pera pang-sine?"
"Oo naman, kami pa, madali kaming mga kausap. Pero pare, 'di ka ba mas makakamura niyan kung nag-motel ka na lang?"
"Mga gago! Wholesome 'to, pare. Wholesome."
"Wholesome daw o."
Eh wholesome naman talaga 'tong gimik ko para sa kanya. Pwede ba namang hindi? Sinabi ko sa sarili ko, balak ko siyang ipagluto. Sinabi ko rin na sisiguraduhin ko na masasarapan siya sa lulutuin ko, kahit ito na ang pinakahuling beses na magluto ako.
Siyempre, umuwi ako sa bahay namin para magpaturong magluto ng morcon. Morcon pa talaga yung pinangarap ko eh, 'no, kung pwede namang fried chicken na lang. I mean, maa-appreciate din naman niya yun, kase una, hindi rin naman siya marunong magluto, at pangalawa, mahal naman daw niya ako eh (sabi niya yun ha). Pero hinde, dapat special para sa kanya.
Kaya eto. Pagkatapos ng ilang muntik nang sunog sa kusina at di na mabilang na paso sa kamay ko, handa na akong pakainin siya ng morcon ngayong gabi.
Bukod sa mga nasabi ko, asar na asar din ako sa mga feeling artiste na wala nang ginawa kung hindi ipamukha sa buong mundo na puno ng angst ang mga buhay nila. Ang sasarap pagbabatukan.
Asar na asar din ako sa mga writer na sobrang yabang, yung tipong, kahit magaling sila, parang lagi nilang pinapalabas na, "Writer ako, at ikaw, hinde!" Pero kung iisipin mo, tulad ng mga musician, artista, at mga basketball player, at tulad ko na rin, wala lang naman yung mga ginagawa nila.
Bad trip din ako sa mga taong feeling na sila lang ang may karapatan at sila lang ang matalino sa mundo. Ewan ko ha, pero kahit kailan, kaya kong magbukas ng libro ni Nabokov at kaya kong intindihin yung mga sinulat niya. Sila, hindi nila kayang ayusin yung http.conf file ng Apache na inaayos ko kani-kanina lang.
Iniisip ko 'to, at naisip ko, ang nerd ko talaga. Buti na lang, meron akong nakasabay sa may sakayan ng jeep na nagsabi sa akin na suot ko pa rin yung ID ko sa opisina.
Nasaan na nga ba ako? Ah, yung mga kinaiinisan. Isa ko pang pet peeve, yung mga taong wala nang ibang maisip sabihin tungkol sa ibang tao kung hindi "nice". Ako, ayokong matawag-tawag na nice guy. Para kasing, ibig sabihin nun, boring ka eh.
Tulad na lang nitong isang kakilala ko dun sa pupuntahan ko. Lahat ng tao, sinasabi, "She's nice." Yun lang. Parang hindi nila nakikita kung gaano siya katalino. O na nakakatawa siya. O na siya yung pinakamasipag sa kahit anong bagay na ginagawa niya. O ang lahat nang yun, hindi niya ipinamumukha sa kahit sino. O kahit sa mundong ginagalawan niya na puno ng mga self-centered na tao, hindi siya self-absorbed. O na kapag ngumiti siya, mapapatigil ang puso mo nang mga dalawang segundo. Kahit na pagud na pagod na siya, mukha pa rin siyang prinsesa. Maganda din siya. Napakaganda. At marami pang iba.
Putek, hindi nga ako magugulat kung sa gabi, nagpapalit siya ng costume at nagliligtas ng mga tao laban sa mga masasamang loob. Tapos ang masasabi lang ng mga tao para sa kanya, "She's nice"?
Asar na asar din ako sa mga writer na sobrang yabang, yung tipong, kahit magaling sila, parang lagi nilang pinapalabas na, "Writer ako, at ikaw, hinde!" Pero kung iisipin mo, tulad ng mga musician, artista, at mga basketball player, at tulad ko na rin, wala lang naman yung mga ginagawa nila.
Bad trip din ako sa mga taong feeling na sila lang ang may karapatan at sila lang ang matalino sa mundo. Ewan ko ha, pero kahit kailan, kaya kong magbukas ng libro ni Nabokov at kaya kong intindihin yung mga sinulat niya. Sila, hindi nila kayang ayusin yung http.conf file ng Apache na inaayos ko kani-kanina lang.
Iniisip ko 'to, at naisip ko, ang nerd ko talaga. Buti na lang, meron akong nakasabay sa may sakayan ng jeep na nagsabi sa akin na suot ko pa rin yung ID ko sa opisina.
Nasaan na nga ba ako? Ah, yung mga kinaiinisan. Isa ko pang pet peeve, yung mga taong wala nang ibang maisip sabihin tungkol sa ibang tao kung hindi "nice". Ako, ayokong matawag-tawag na nice guy. Para kasing, ibig sabihin nun, boring ka eh.
Tulad na lang nitong isang kakilala ko dun sa pupuntahan ko. Lahat ng tao, sinasabi, "She's nice." Yun lang. Parang hindi nila nakikita kung gaano siya katalino. O na nakakatawa siya. O na siya yung pinakamasipag sa kahit anong bagay na ginagawa niya. O ang lahat nang yun, hindi niya ipinamumukha sa kahit sino. O kahit sa mundong ginagalawan niya na puno ng mga self-centered na tao, hindi siya self-absorbed. O na kapag ngumiti siya, mapapatigil ang puso mo nang mga dalawang segundo. Kahit na pagud na pagod na siya, mukha pa rin siyang prinsesa. Maganda din siya. Napakaganda. At marami pang iba.
Putek, hindi nga ako magugulat kung sa gabi, nagpapalit siya ng costume at nagliligtas ng mga tao laban sa mga masasamang loob. Tapos ang masasabi lang ng mga tao para sa kanya, "She's nice"?
Hindi na ako makapagsulat pagkatapos kong tumigil, kaya naman tumayo na rin ako at umalis. Dumaan muna ako sa supermarket para bumili ng ibang bagay. Natawa ako sa lalakeng nauna sa 'kin sa pila. Bumili siya ng madaming imported na tsokolate at isang Chocnut, sabay sinabi niya sa kahera na mas mahal niya yung isa niyang girlfriend. Ang labo. Pero yun ata ang unang pagkakataon na tumawa ako ngayong araw.
Siya lang ang naging girlfriend ko. Matagal-tagal din kami, kung tutuusin, pero sobrang... bitin. Kaya nga eto ako ngayon eh, ganito. Bitin.
Naaalala ko noon, gusto kong palaging hinahawakan yung kamay niya. Tapos, pipisilin ko palagi nang may kahigpitan. Lagi rin niya akong tatanungin kung bakit, at lagi kong sasabihin sa kanya na, Wala lang. Hindi ko masabi na hinahawakan ko yung kamay niya dahil ayokong kailanman na mawala siya. Hindi ko masabi na wala akong ibang kamay na gustong hawakan. Hindi ko masabi na kapag hawak ko ang kamay niya, lahat ng bagay, feeling ko, kaya kong gawin. Titingin ako sa mga mata niya, at makikita ko na hindi nga niya alam lahat nang yun. At hindi ko rin alam kung bakit takut na takot akong sabihin sa kanya lahat.
Ngayon tuwing naaalala ko, iniisip ko, dapat sinabi ko sa kanya lahat yun.
Siya lang ang naging girlfriend ko. Matagal-tagal din kami, kung tutuusin, pero sobrang... bitin. Kaya nga eto ako ngayon eh, ganito. Bitin.
Naaalala ko noon, gusto kong palaging hinahawakan yung kamay niya. Tapos, pipisilin ko palagi nang may kahigpitan. Lagi rin niya akong tatanungin kung bakit, at lagi kong sasabihin sa kanya na, Wala lang. Hindi ko masabi na hinahawakan ko yung kamay niya dahil ayokong kailanman na mawala siya. Hindi ko masabi na wala akong ibang kamay na gustong hawakan. Hindi ko masabi na kapag hawak ko ang kamay niya, lahat ng bagay, feeling ko, kaya kong gawin. Titingin ako sa mga mata niya, at makikita ko na hindi nga niya alam lahat nang yun. At hindi ko rin alam kung bakit takut na takot akong sabihin sa kanya lahat.
Ngayon tuwing naaalala ko, iniisip ko, dapat sinabi ko sa kanya lahat yun.
Siyempre naman, dahil wala rin akong tiwala sa sarili ko sa pagluluto, marami pa rin naman akong fallback option para kahit papaano, maging special pa rin ang gabing 'to para sa kanya. Tulad kagabi, nagkasugat-sugat ang mga kamay ko sa pagputol-putol ng sangkatutak na kandila para sa candle-lit dinner namin. Marami-rami rin yun, sapat para mapaligiran yung buong balcony ng bahay namin.
Naalala ko yung episode ng "Friends", dun sa kasal ni Ross kay Emily. Ilang araw bago sila ikasal, na-demolish yung simbahan na pinapangarap ni Emily na doon siya ikasal. Dahil sa gusto ni Emily na dun talaga ikasal, ginawan na lang nila ng paraan at nilagyan ng maraming kandila para magmukhang maganda yung lugar. At gumanda nga siya. Naisip ko, kahit anong lugar naman, basta gabi at pinuno mo ng walang ibang ilaw kung hindi maraming kandila, nagiging maganda.
Pinuno ko rin yung mga haligi ng balcony namin ng mga heart-shaped na lobo na pink at purple. Ang kikay nga eh. Pero in fairness, maganda yung effect niya 'pag kandila lang yung ilaw sa paligid.
Kanina, dumaan din ako sa supermarket para ibili siya ng maraming-maraming tsokolate. Sinasabi nga sa akin ng nanay ko, bagay na bagay daw kami, dahil pareho kaming chocolate addict. Sabi ko naman, Hindi nga eh, kase kung hindi siya mahilig din sa tsokolate, eh 'di sana wala na akong kaagaw.
Marami-rami rin ang nabili kong tsokolate, sapat para makapuno ng isang medium-sized na basket. Panay imported ang binili ko, tapos bago ko bayaran, may naisip ako. Bumili ako ng isang pack ng Chocnut.
Kaya naman weird yung tingin sa akin nung kahera, nung magbabayad na ako. Ngumiti na lang ako, at sinabi sa kanya, "Wala miss eh, talagang mas mahal ko yung isang girlfriend ko, so yung isa Chocnut na lang." Natawa naman siya, pati na yung mamang sumunod sa akin sa pila.
Naalala ko yung episode ng "Friends", dun sa kasal ni Ross kay Emily. Ilang araw bago sila ikasal, na-demolish yung simbahan na pinapangarap ni Emily na doon siya ikasal. Dahil sa gusto ni Emily na dun talaga ikasal, ginawan na lang nila ng paraan at nilagyan ng maraming kandila para magmukhang maganda yung lugar. At gumanda nga siya. Naisip ko, kahit anong lugar naman, basta gabi at pinuno mo ng walang ibang ilaw kung hindi maraming kandila, nagiging maganda.
Pinuno ko rin yung mga haligi ng balcony namin ng mga heart-shaped na lobo na pink at purple. Ang kikay nga eh. Pero in fairness, maganda yung effect niya 'pag kandila lang yung ilaw sa paligid.
Kanina, dumaan din ako sa supermarket para ibili siya ng maraming-maraming tsokolate. Sinasabi nga sa akin ng nanay ko, bagay na bagay daw kami, dahil pareho kaming chocolate addict. Sabi ko naman, Hindi nga eh, kase kung hindi siya mahilig din sa tsokolate, eh 'di sana wala na akong kaagaw.
Marami-rami rin ang nabili kong tsokolate, sapat para makapuno ng isang medium-sized na basket. Panay imported ang binili ko, tapos bago ko bayaran, may naisip ako. Bumili ako ng isang pack ng Chocnut.
Kaya naman weird yung tingin sa akin nung kahera, nung magbabayad na ako. Ngumiti na lang ako, at sinabi sa kanya, "Wala miss eh, talagang mas mahal ko yung isang girlfriend ko, so yung isa Chocnut na lang." Natawa naman siya, pati na yung mamang sumunod sa akin sa pila.
At dahil dun, gusto ko siyang makita.
Ano naman ang sasabihin ko sa kanya? Na sa milyun-milyong bagay na iniisip ko sa araw-araw, siya lang ang talagang iniisip ko? O na sa bilyun-bilyong tao sa buong mundo, siya lang ang gusto ko talagang makita?
Actually, wala naman talaga akong gustong sabihin sa kanya. Feeling ko, pagdating ko dun, ngingitian ko lang siya, sabay hihirit ng isang makabagbag-damdaming, "Kumusta ka na?" na pinag-praktisan ko pa.
Pero ok lang yun. Gusto ko lang naman siyang makita. Wala naman akong sinabing gusto ko siyang maging girlfriend, o gusto ko siyang pakasalan, o gusto kong siya ang maging ina ng mga anak ko.
Gusto ko lang siyang makita.
Ano naman ang sasabihin ko sa kanya? Na sa milyun-milyong bagay na iniisip ko sa araw-araw, siya lang ang talagang iniisip ko? O na sa bilyun-bilyong tao sa buong mundo, siya lang ang gusto ko talagang makita?
Actually, wala naman talaga akong gustong sabihin sa kanya. Feeling ko, pagdating ko dun, ngingitian ko lang siya, sabay hihirit ng isang makabagbag-damdaming, "Kumusta ka na?" na pinag-praktisan ko pa.
Pero ok lang yun. Gusto ko lang naman siyang makita. Wala naman akong sinabing gusto ko siyang maging girlfriend, o gusto ko siyang pakasalan, o gusto kong siya ang maging ina ng mga anak ko.
Gusto ko lang siyang makita.
Ayoko naman talagang maawa sa sarili ko eh.
Hindi ko gustong iniisip siya. Hindi ko gustong naaalala siya.
At kung tutuusin, hindi ko na naman siya palaging iniisip. Hindi ko na siya palaging naaalala. Merong mga araw na mula paggising hanggang sa pagtulog ko, ni minsan hindi siya sumagi sa isipan ko. Merong mga araw na mawawala lang ako sa lahat ng mga ginagawa ko, at hindi ko maiisip na minsan naging bahagi siya ng buhay ko. Habang lumilipas ang panahon, dumadami ang mga araw na ganito, kaya naman sa palagay ko, kahit papaano'y nakaka-move on na ako.
At minsan naman, merong mga gabing ganito, na sa bawat kurap ko'y parang isang sulyap sa maamo niyang mukha. Maglalakad ako sa mga kalye nang walang paroroonan, at bawat bagay na makikita ko'y parang may kinalaman sa kanya, sa akin, sa aming dalawa. Sa bawat hakbang ko, parang merong bumubulong, naririnig ko ang tinig niya, at hindi ko maalis sa isip ko kahit anong lakas nang mga tunog sa paligid. Natutunan ko na lang na maupo at harapin, alalahanin ang lahat.
Bigla akong babalik sa nakaraan, sa panahon na masaya, sa panahon na lahat ay tama. Kausap ko siya hanggang alas tres nang umaga, at nagpapalitan lang kami ng mga bulong. Mga bulong na walang ibig sabihin, mga bulong na walang katuturan, pero mga bulong na siya ring pinaka-importanteng mga bagay sa buong mundo. Mga bulong na nagsasabi, nagpapahiwatig na nandyan lang siya.
Ngayon, wala na siya, at lipas na rin ang alas tres nang umaga.
Hindi ko gustong iniisip siya. Hindi ko gustong naaalala siya.
At kung tutuusin, hindi ko na naman siya palaging iniisip. Hindi ko na siya palaging naaalala. Merong mga araw na mula paggising hanggang sa pagtulog ko, ni minsan hindi siya sumagi sa isipan ko. Merong mga araw na mawawala lang ako sa lahat ng mga ginagawa ko, at hindi ko maiisip na minsan naging bahagi siya ng buhay ko. Habang lumilipas ang panahon, dumadami ang mga araw na ganito, kaya naman sa palagay ko, kahit papaano'y nakaka-move on na ako.
At minsan naman, merong mga gabing ganito, na sa bawat kurap ko'y parang isang sulyap sa maamo niyang mukha. Maglalakad ako sa mga kalye nang walang paroroonan, at bawat bagay na makikita ko'y parang may kinalaman sa kanya, sa akin, sa aming dalawa. Sa bawat hakbang ko, parang merong bumubulong, naririnig ko ang tinig niya, at hindi ko maalis sa isip ko kahit anong lakas nang mga tunog sa paligid. Natutunan ko na lang na maupo at harapin, alalahanin ang lahat.
Bigla akong babalik sa nakaraan, sa panahon na masaya, sa panahon na lahat ay tama. Kausap ko siya hanggang alas tres nang umaga, at nagpapalitan lang kami ng mga bulong. Mga bulong na walang ibig sabihin, mga bulong na walang katuturan, pero mga bulong na siya ring pinaka-importanteng mga bagay sa buong mundo. Mga bulong na nagsasabi, nagpapahiwatig na nandyan lang siya.
Ngayon, wala na siya, at lipas na rin ang alas tres nang umaga.
Isang sakay lang ng jeep ang bahay nila mula sa amin. Oo, nagji-jeep lang kami 'pag lumalabas, o kahit nung nanliligaw ako sa kanya. Wala kasi akong kotse eh, at ako yung lalake na ayaw magka-kotse. Sayang kasi eh, kahit convenient siya, ang laking bagay yung naitutulong mo sa environment kung mag-commute ka na lang kesa yung mag-kotse ka. Kaya nga ayokong-ayokong dumaan sa may Katipunan, naiirita lang akong makita na sobrang traffic dahil sobrang dami ng kotse, na usually tig-iisa lang naman ang sakay. Hindi ko naman sinasabi na ayoko nang magkaroon ng kotse habangbuhay, dahil kakailanganin ko naman siya 'pag may pamilya na ako. Pero ngayon, hindi ko pa naman siya kailangan.
Hindi naman yun naging problema sa panliligaw. Naisip ko kase, kung ayaw lang naman sa akin ng isang babae dahil lang sa wala akong kotse, wala na akong magagawa kung hindi i-emulate si Gary Granada, "Ayoko na rin sa kanya." At yun nga, hindi naging problema, kase may girlfriend ako ngayon.
Pagod na pagod na ako, pero kailangan hindi niya maramdaman yun. Ok lang naman, hindi pa naman ako masyadong windang. Mas mukhang windang yung lalakeng nakasabay ko sa sakayan, na kinailangan ko pang sabihang suot pa rin niya yung ID niya sa opisina. Yun ang windang.
Tatay niya ang nagbukas ng pinto. Isang "hi" lang ang namagitan sa aming dalawa, pagkatapos ay pinapasok niya na ako, tinawag ang girlfriend ko, at bumalik na sa kanyang pagkakaupo at panonood ng laban ng Coke at Talk N Text sa TV.
Naalala ko pa nung una niya akong ipinakilala sa tatay niya. Nakakatawa, dahil pati ang tatay niya, hindi alam kung pa'no magre-react dun sa presence ko sa bahay nila. Birthday din kase niya nun, at dahil ako yung unang lalake na dinala niya sa bahay, hindi talaga sanay yung tatay niya.
Weird din naman yung sitwasyon na yun para sa akin. Mas nahirapan pa akong pakiharapan yung tatay kesa ligawan yung anak. Naisip ko, ayoko na talagang makiharap pa sa mga tatay ng ibang mga babae. Kaya nga, gusto ko, dito na lang ako sa tatay na 'to makikiharap habangbuhay.
Ngayon, ok na. Usually, nagde-dedmahan na lang kami ng tatay niya, at paminsan-minsan mag-uusap tungkol sa basketball. Ok lang, actually, kase ganun din naman ako sa mga tito ko sa amin eh. At least, sanay na siyang nakikita yung pagmumukha ko sa bahay nila.
Maya-maya, bumaba na siya, at isang sulyap lang naalala ko na kung bakit ko ginagawa ang lahat ng 'to para sa kanya. "Happy birthday!" na lang ang nasabi ko, sabay abot ng dala-dala kong Chocnut sa kanya.
"Ano 'to?" ang tanong niya sa akin, nakangiti.
"Eh 'di ba sabi mo, nothing special lang sa birthday mo? Eh siyempre, boyfriend ako, nahiya naman akong pumunta dito na walang dala."
"Ah ok. So, saan tayo ngayon?"
"Ah, nothing special din. Dun lang tayo sa bahay namin, tambay lang tayo."
Hindi naman yun naging problema sa panliligaw. Naisip ko kase, kung ayaw lang naman sa akin ng isang babae dahil lang sa wala akong kotse, wala na akong magagawa kung hindi i-emulate si Gary Granada, "Ayoko na rin sa kanya." At yun nga, hindi naging problema, kase may girlfriend ako ngayon.
Pagod na pagod na ako, pero kailangan hindi niya maramdaman yun. Ok lang naman, hindi pa naman ako masyadong windang. Mas mukhang windang yung lalakeng nakasabay ko sa sakayan, na kinailangan ko pang sabihang suot pa rin niya yung ID niya sa opisina. Yun ang windang.
Tatay niya ang nagbukas ng pinto. Isang "hi" lang ang namagitan sa aming dalawa, pagkatapos ay pinapasok niya na ako, tinawag ang girlfriend ko, at bumalik na sa kanyang pagkakaupo at panonood ng laban ng Coke at Talk N Text sa TV.
Naalala ko pa nung una niya akong ipinakilala sa tatay niya. Nakakatawa, dahil pati ang tatay niya, hindi alam kung pa'no magre-react dun sa presence ko sa bahay nila. Birthday din kase niya nun, at dahil ako yung unang lalake na dinala niya sa bahay, hindi talaga sanay yung tatay niya.
Weird din naman yung sitwasyon na yun para sa akin. Mas nahirapan pa akong pakiharapan yung tatay kesa ligawan yung anak. Naisip ko, ayoko na talagang makiharap pa sa mga tatay ng ibang mga babae. Kaya nga, gusto ko, dito na lang ako sa tatay na 'to makikiharap habangbuhay.
Ngayon, ok na. Usually, nagde-dedmahan na lang kami ng tatay niya, at paminsan-minsan mag-uusap tungkol sa basketball. Ok lang, actually, kase ganun din naman ako sa mga tito ko sa amin eh. At least, sanay na siyang nakikita yung pagmumukha ko sa bahay nila.
Maya-maya, bumaba na siya, at isang sulyap lang naalala ko na kung bakit ko ginagawa ang lahat ng 'to para sa kanya. "Happy birthday!" na lang ang nasabi ko, sabay abot ng dala-dala kong Chocnut sa kanya.
"Ano 'to?" ang tanong niya sa akin, nakangiti.
"Eh 'di ba sabi mo, nothing special lang sa birthday mo? Eh siyempre, boyfriend ako, nahiya naman akong pumunta dito na walang dala."
"Ah ok. So, saan tayo ngayon?"
"Ah, nothing special din. Dun lang tayo sa bahay namin, tambay lang tayo."
Sinalubong agad ako ng isang kabarkada. Pagkatapos ng maikling pangungumusta (na hindi naman makabagbag-damdamin), tinanong ko kung nasaan siya.
Wala na. Nakaalis na daw.
"Pare, kung gusto mo talaga, bakit hindi mo na lang tawagan? Yayain mo mag-date. Alam mo naman yung number eh."
"Ayoko nga. Baka isipin pa niyang patay na patay ako sa kanya."
"Bakit, hindi ka ba patay na patay sa kanya?"
"Patay na patay. Pero hindi niya na kailangang malaman yun."
Tumawa na lang yung kabarkada ko. Tumawa na rin ako, kase feeling ko kahit papaano nakakatawa naman yung hirit ko eh.
Pero pucha, sayang. Gusto ko lang naman sana siyang makita. Mababaliw na yata ako.
Wala na. Nakaalis na daw.
"Pare, kung gusto mo talaga, bakit hindi mo na lang tawagan? Yayain mo mag-date. Alam mo naman yung number eh."
"Ayoko nga. Baka isipin pa niyang patay na patay ako sa kanya."
"Bakit, hindi ka ba patay na patay sa kanya?"
"Patay na patay. Pero hindi niya na kailangang malaman yun."
Tumawa na lang yung kabarkada ko. Tumawa na rin ako, kase feeling ko kahit papaano nakakatawa naman yung hirit ko eh.
Pero pucha, sayang. Gusto ko lang naman sana siyang makita. Mababaliw na yata ako.
Sa pag-uwi, nabangga ako ng lalakeng palabas ng elevator, at naputol ang pagmumuni-muni ko. Pinulot ko ang mga lata ng San Miguel Super Dry na nahulog. Ngumiti na lang ako pagkatapos niyang mag-sorry, at sinabi ko sa kanya na okay lang.
Nandito na ako ngayon sa tapat ng computer, binabasa ang mga sinulat niya. Lahat ng ito, mga ilang libong beses ko nang nabasa, at ano bang masama kung basahin ko sila nang isa pang beses? Tutal, ilang buwan ko na rin silang hindi nababasa.
Binabasa ko ang mga nakasulat na para sa akin. Binabasa ko sa mga sulat ang mga hindi nakasulat, na para sa akin. Pati ang mga sinulat niya na hindi naman para sa akin, pero gusto kong isipin na para sa akin, binabasa ko na rin.
At sa gitna ng lahat ng pait, mapapangiti na lang ako sa alaala ng isang anghel. Iisipin ko na kahit wala na siya sa aking piling, sigurado akong hinihintay naman niya ako sa langit.
Nandito na ako ngayon sa tapat ng computer, binabasa ang mga sinulat niya. Lahat ng ito, mga ilang libong beses ko nang nabasa, at ano bang masama kung basahin ko sila nang isa pang beses? Tutal, ilang buwan ko na rin silang hindi nababasa.
Binabasa ko ang mga nakasulat na para sa akin. Binabasa ko sa mga sulat ang mga hindi nakasulat, na para sa akin. Pati ang mga sinulat niya na hindi naman para sa akin, pero gusto kong isipin na para sa akin, binabasa ko na rin.
At sa gitna ng lahat ng pait, mapapangiti na lang ako sa alaala ng isang anghel. Iisipin ko na kahit wala na siya sa aking piling, sigurado akong hinihintay naman niya ako sa langit.
Pagbaba ng jeep habang naglalakad papunta sa bahay, sinalubong agad ako ng kabarkada ko na may dalang isang malaking bouquet ng bulaklak. Siyempre, ako yung bumili ng mga bulaklak na yun, at may script na kami ng kaibigan ko.
"O, pare, nagkataon, meron akong binebentang isang bouquet ng bulaklak, baka gusto mong bilhin."
"Aba, tamang-tama ang timing mo, dahil may date ako ngayong gabi. Magkano ba 'yang bouquet na 'yan?"
"Murang-mura lang, bukas mo na lang ako bayaran."
"Aba, salamat pare. Da best ka talaga."
Iniabot ko ang bulaklak sa girlfriend ko, na nakangiti at aliw na aliw sa lame (pero cute) na skit namin. Lumaki pang lalo ang ngiti niya nang makita niya ang balcony namin, ang mga kandila, lobo, basket ng tsokolate, at yung isa ko pang present sa kanya na nakabalot (na may lamang video ng paborito niyang animated na pelikula).
At wala pa siyang idea na pakakainin ko siya ng morcon mamaya!
"Timeout, 'di ba sabi mo wala ka pang tulog mula kagabi? Ang galing mo naman, pa'no mo nagawa 'tong lahat?"
"Haha, 'di mo ba natatandaan yung palaging sinasabi ko sa 'yo dati nung nililigawan pa lang kita?"
"Alin dun? Ang daming bola nun eh."
"'Di ba lagi kong sinasabi ko sa 'yo nun, ako si Superman? Ayaw mo pa ngang maniwala eh".
Lalo pang lumaki yung ngiti sa bibig niya. Naalala niya. Tinatanong niya palagi kung bakit nandun pa rin ako, nagta-tiyaga sa panliligaw sa kanya kahit abut-abot na hirap na yung dinanas ko. Tinatanong niya kung hindi ba ako napapagod. Paano ako mapapagod, isasagot ko, eh ako si Superman. Ewan ko lang ngayon kung naniniwala na siya.
Tinitingnan ko siya ngayon habang nakangiti, at wala na akong masabi. Wala na naman yata akong dapat sabihin. Sa totoo lang, dapat pagud na pagod na ako, pero hindi ko na yun nararamdaman, nandito siya ngayon, at wala na akong iniinda.
Ako si Superman eh.
"O, pare, nagkataon, meron akong binebentang isang bouquet ng bulaklak, baka gusto mong bilhin."
"Aba, tamang-tama ang timing mo, dahil may date ako ngayong gabi. Magkano ba 'yang bouquet na 'yan?"
"Murang-mura lang, bukas mo na lang ako bayaran."
"Aba, salamat pare. Da best ka talaga."
Iniabot ko ang bulaklak sa girlfriend ko, na nakangiti at aliw na aliw sa lame (pero cute) na skit namin. Lumaki pang lalo ang ngiti niya nang makita niya ang balcony namin, ang mga kandila, lobo, basket ng tsokolate, at yung isa ko pang present sa kanya na nakabalot (na may lamang video ng paborito niyang animated na pelikula).
At wala pa siyang idea na pakakainin ko siya ng morcon mamaya!
"Timeout, 'di ba sabi mo wala ka pang tulog mula kagabi? Ang galing mo naman, pa'no mo nagawa 'tong lahat?"
"Haha, 'di mo ba natatandaan yung palaging sinasabi ko sa 'yo dati nung nililigawan pa lang kita?"
"Alin dun? Ang daming bola nun eh."
"'Di ba lagi kong sinasabi ko sa 'yo nun, ako si Superman? Ayaw mo pa ngang maniwala eh".
Lalo pang lumaki yung ngiti sa bibig niya. Naalala niya. Tinatanong niya palagi kung bakit nandun pa rin ako, nagta-tiyaga sa panliligaw sa kanya kahit abut-abot na hirap na yung dinanas ko. Tinatanong niya kung hindi ba ako napapagod. Paano ako mapapagod, isasagot ko, eh ako si Superman. Ewan ko lang ngayon kung naniniwala na siya.
Tinitingnan ko siya ngayon habang nakangiti, at wala na akong masabi. Wala na naman yata akong dapat sabihin. Sa totoo lang, dapat pagud na pagod na ako, pero hindi ko na yun nararamdaman, nandito siya ngayon, at wala na akong iniinda.
Ako si Superman eh.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
Amazing
Karl and Mimi each posted photos of landmarks from yesterday's episode of the Amazing Race, which featured the first Philippine leg of the competition. It's great enough that the show featured the Philippines, but yesterday's episode was probably the best this season, in terms of memorable events and suspense throughout the episode.I can't even pick my favorite moment from the show. No, wait, I can. Did you see Christie in that tank top and those shorts? Damn!
But it's hard to pick my second favorite moment from the show. There was Colin fuming during the yield period and later breaking down while plowing ("My ox is broken!" "I hate you!"). Hehe, kalabaw lang pala ang katapat ni gago. The jeepney part was cool, too, I just wish they had painted the jeepneys "Service from Cavite to any pt. of Luzon" just for reality's sake. I had a kick seeing the teams board the same HM Transport bus from Laguna that we used to ride home from LB.
Oh, and how about that kick-ass taxi race to end the leg? How appropriate. I was thinking about that the whole morning. Colin and Christie showed just how smart they are by taking a taxi all the way from Laguna ("It's illegal to go more than a hundred kph in this highway, so I guess I have no choice but to break the law"), although it wasn't enough to catch up. Chip and Kim boarded a taxi somewhere along South Superhighway.
The Christian models had the bad luck of getting the one driver in Metro Manila who didn't know where Coconut Palace is, which gave the moms time to overtake them. And yeah, it drove me crazy that their drivers took Buendia to get to Roxas Boulevard in the middle of the day when they should have turned at Pasay Road to take Edsa.
And all those jokes about Gloria making epal and welcoming the contestants didn't quite come true, but Luli was there to pick up the slack.
I'm rooting for Colin and Christie, partly because Christie is smoking hot, partly because I enjoy Colin's meltdowns, and partly because no one else is rooting for them. It's probably not too hard for them to find funding for next episode since the Coconut Palace isn't really that far away from the expat district in Manila (and the US embassy is just down the road). Ha, but I bet they get yielded again next episode.
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
55 Fiction
It was Macy who first introduced me to 55 Fiction, stories wherein the author could use only 55 words. She seemed to like it so much that she transformed her erstwhile home page into a repository of all her 55 Fiction stories. She's got about 20 of them now, all of which are captured on pretty graphics, but her first one has always been my favorite. It's short, it's simple, and it's heartbreaking.Anyway, I had written a bunch of 55 Fiction stories this past few months, and now that I have my own blog again, I figured I might as well share a couple with the five people reading this journal. Maybe one of you could take it up, too.
"Red Light"
She sat beside me, poured my beer into a glass, took my hand. For two hours, we pretended she wouldn't let go. But boys like me aren't supposed to fall for girls like her.
I came expecting to leave with a thinner wallet. I had no idea I'd also be leaving with a broken heart.
"Gallery"
"What is with the man in the portrait?" asked the child.
"He's lonely," replied the painter.
"Why is he lonely?"
"Because he fell in love."
"Does everyone who fall in love become lonely?"
The painter paused for a moment before answering, "I don't know... but all the lonely people I know once fell in love."
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
If you missed all the cheerdance action
Mimi of Peyups.com and Fotogra and Memories captured all of the action from last Sunday's cheerdance competition at the Araneta Coliseum up close.Queer eye
I was watching Queer Eye for the Straight Guy last night like I have this past couple of months, and I always have a million thoughts while watching the show, so I figured I might as well put them into writing.For starters, I don't think Ted Allen (food and wine dude) is gay at all. Think about it, he's droll, he wears boring clothes, he looks like a nerd, he likes playing with fire, and he doesn't even hit on the straight guys. Besides, you have all these excellent gay people in theater, fashion, grooming, and interior design, but you never know of any great gay chefs. Hell, if Iron Chef ever taught us something, it's that the dude cooking your food could probably beat the living crap out of you. I think Ted's just doing the "Queer Eye" gig for the cash, and then uses the whole sensitive gay friend act to bag chicks.
Also, Thom Filicia doesn't look like he belongs with the other gay guys. He dresses badly, he's got a gut, he has terrible hair, and he's just ugly. I bet the pretty boys (Carson, Kyan, and Jai) just keep him around because he's the most talented person in the group. Don't you just love it when Thom cleans and paints the whole fucking house and moves around all these heavy furniture, and then Jai comes in and gives the guy a couple of tickets to a Broadway show? Just kills me all the time.
I could totally imagine Carson, Kyan, and Jai going out and not inviting Thom (they don't bother inviting Ted, who's probably out chasing tail). Like, the three would go out to brunch to make fun of Thom and make catty comments behind his back. Feeling ko lagi nilang ino-okray si Thom.
Monday, September 13, 2004
Hey, they say silver is the new gold
The UP Pep Squad finished second during last Sunday's UAAP Cheerdance Competition, losing yet again to the UST Salingawi Dance Troupe. I actually missed the telecast because of the Pisay 98 basketball game last Sunday, but I was able to watch a video file of their performance earlier today.(As a basketball buddy of mine once put it, "Pare, kung manonood din lang ako ng sayawan sa Cubao, doon na 'ko sa consumable yung entrance at may floor show pa.")
You know you're talking about the Pep Squad (as opposed to the men's basketball team they're supposed to cheerleaders for) when you're actually disappointed about finishing second, and not ecstatic about finishing fifth. But it wasn't even close. UST finished about three full points ahead of UP in the scoring, and they left little doubt as to the winners of the competition.
It's hard to imagine just three years ago when the UP Pep were on top of the game, and every other squad was playing for second. Maybe we'll get it back next year, especially now that the UP Pep is years away from the pressure of living up to their cheerdance championship days, when they unveiled cutting edge routines year after year. Maybe they'll come up with something as good as that swimming routine, or that tae bo thing. That was way cool, it's always been my favorite.
Or maybe we won't. Win or lose, we're all winners anyway.
Elbi Beybeh
BigbadwolfNakapasok ka na ba sa klase mo ng hindi pa naliligo o nagtu-tootbrush man lang? Pumasok ka na ba ng nakapambahay na damit ka lang? Pumasok ka na ba sa klase mo nang amoy alak ka pa? Ilang beses ka hindi nakapasok sa 7:00 am class mo dahil pinadlock ng mga tibak ang mga entrances sa mga buildings sa lower campus? Nakapag-aral ka na ba mere days before your exam? Eh the night before your exam? Eh an hour before your exam? Nag-inom ka na ba the night before your exam? Eh right before?
Pero feeling ko, lasing na lang talaga siya nung sinulat niya yung ending eh:
Sa loob at labas ng class room, may matututunan ang isang iskolar ng bayan. Sa UPLB, masasabi kong totoo yung previous sentence. Sa UPLB, matututunan mong mahalin ang buhay. Yan ang maipagmamalaki ko sa mga taong nagtatanong kung may TV ba daw sa elbi. Malayo kami sa masasabing kabihasnan. Pero sa elbi nabubuo ang pagkatao namin. Nahahasa ang utak. Tumatatag ang prinsipyo. Nabubusog ang kaluluwa. Ang puso, minsan humahalakhak, minsan lumuluha.
Hehehe peace, Bigbadwolf!
UPDATE: Oops, false alarm. This is a completely different Bigbadwolf from the one from Bnext. This one's actually an old classmate of mine from CompSci. Still a cool article though. My bad...
Friday, September 10, 2004
Bleeding Maroon
[ fotogra and memories ]
The UP Fighting Maroons closed out their season yesterday by beating the NU Bulldogs, finishing fifth with a record of 7-7. This included, of course, the unbelievable six-game winning streak after losing their first six games, stepping up to the hallowed doors of the UAAP Final Four and taking a couple of knocks.
The 0-6 start wasn't totally unexpected, given that: a) the two most talented players on the team, Marvin Cruz and Kenneth Robin, were still recovering from injuries (Marvin turned the ball over like he was still missing Jolina, and Robin looked like he needed Rustom); and, b) there was no one in the regular rotation who stood over 6-3.
But as they say, it's not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog. Don't you just love the UP Fighting Maroons? They fight so hard that you couldn't help believing, and they win just enough to break your heart.
Another season is in the books for the UP basketball team, and as every bleeding Maroons fan would say every year after the UP basketball season ends: "Sana manalo tayo sa cheerdance competition this weekend."
Thursday, September 09, 2004
The girl with the golden squiggles
I've met hundreds of bloggers on the Internet over the years, a lot of them talented, a handful of them actually interesting. All this time, my favorite writer has always been Mika, who was then an English literature major when I met her (online) way back in 2000.Like I mentioned in a previous post, back then everyone knew everyone, and a lot of the bloggers were involved in this now-defunct literary e-zine called Ang Aming Katha, which I was managing. So people were submitting their work, and the response was good (we were even nominated for a Philippine Web Award). Anyway, my favorite of all the submissions was Mika's essay called Squiggles. She had gone on to write a lot more wonderful works, but that one is my favorite. And this post is really just an excuse to link to it.
Pirates of Carriedo
The inimitable Conrado de Quiros wrote a brilliant two-part piece on the "piracy problem" in light of the recent incident at Virra Mall, where a raid by government operatives turned violent."What happened apparently was that he stormed into Virra Mall in the company of cops and confiscated the DVDs sundry vendors were selling there. I know the place; I've been there. Though not as a customer of DVD, the reason for that being financial judgment rather than moral scruple: the Muslims in Quiapo sell the stuff much cheaper.
...
"Anyway, Manzano stormed into Virra Mall and began carting off the DVDs for sale on the stalls there and earned for his pains a lot of boos and hisses and catcalls. He apparently took them all in stride, figuring sticks and stones might break his bones but not boos and hisses and catcalls. But the latter took the equivalent of sticks and stones at one point in the form of crumpled pieces of paper and fruits which flew his way while he and company were climbing down the stairs.
"That brought out the action star in him. He swiftly ran up the stairs, drew out a gun, and pointed it at his tormentors, while passersby screamed and scampered for safety."
De Quiros weighs in on his solution:
"...the only rational policy was to stop the pirating of local movies and CDs. You cannot stop piracy completely, that is a hopeless cause. The technology is there. You can no more bind the explosion in productive capabilities to old property rights than you can cage King Kong in the zoo. But you can at least curb, if not stop, the pirating of local movies and CDs.
"You can do that by running only after those who sell pirated local movies and CDs. I'm sure you can appeal to the public's patriotic sentiments to not buy the pirated local stuff. I'm just as sure you won't find resistance, or cynical reaction, to cops swooping down on the pirates' lair and carting off bundles of pirated local movies and CDs. The public might even applaud them.
...
"Sotto's office did call me a couple of years ago to say a bill incorporating my suggestions (making the pirating of local movies and CDs, on ground of national interest, illegal and punishable by law) was being prepared. I don't know if it was ever finished, if it got to the floor of the Senate, or if it met with furious opposition from various lobbies. But clearly it hasn't been enacted, freeing Manzano to mount his movie antics in real life.
"It is the only reasonable policy toward 'piracy'--which I put in quotation marks because the GATT-WTO concept of intellectual property rights is itself piratical; at least the pirates of Tortuga stole from the rich, this one steals from the poor. More so now than ever. There are two new and compelling reasons why this is so.
"The first is that the selling of pirated DVDs gives livelihood to the ragged urban denizens who might otherwise take to crime--this is not so, to anticipate the snide remarks of Bill Gates' representatives on earth--to bring food to the table. That is no mean feat particularly in these days of great want, and coming days of even greater want. The last thing we need is to add more unemployment to the country, particularly among the ranks of the Muslim poor in Metro Manila, who for some reason seem to have monopolized the retail trade in pirated DVDs. It's not a matter of preference, it's a matter of survival.
"In fact, the last thing we need is government using our taxes to keep an office that exists to protect foreign interests. I don't mind that the portion of my pay I am forced to part with goes to supporting local artists, I do mind that it goes to protecting Paramount and 20th Century Fox.
"The second is that, well, do you want to keep this country ignorant? Education is its own justification. The United States itself did not mind pirating British books to enlighten its nationals before 1776. If it hadn't done so, it might still be a British colony. I personally do not mind being reproduced all over the place (which I am), if that will improve people's minds. I'm shareware entirely, the spirit that happily still rules the Internet."
De Quiros' ideas really aren't as radical as the movie studios or the large software companies would have us believe. Acclaimed film directors such as Quentin Tarantino and Michael Moore have taken a position encouraging people from countries who couldn't legally acquire their films to obtain them from other sources.
Richard M. Stallman, the founder of the Free Software Foundation, even recommends avoiding the use of the word "piracy".
"Publishers often refer to prohibited copying as 'piracy'. In this way, they imply that illegal copying is ethically equivalent to attacking ships on the high seas, kidnaping and murdering the people on them.
If you don't believe that illegal copying is just like kidnaping and murder, you might prefer not to use the word 'piracy' to describe it. Neutral terms such as 'prohibited copying' or 'unauthorized copying' are available for use instead. Some of us might even prefer to use a positive term such as 'sharing information with your neighbor.'
The prominent copyright activist-lawyer Lawrence Lessig founded the organization Creative Commons to enable artists, writers, musicians, and scholars to share their creative work so that others in their field might be able to access these works and even build upon them, while allowing the original author to maintain copyright to their work. Thus, the group's motto, "Some rights reserved."
And at the end of the day, it's all about sharing information and making them available to everyone. The last three CDs I acquired (legally) are Derby Light (Cambio), Dramachine (Sugarfree), and Love from Lust (Bridge). At one time or another, I've given away mp3s from these albums to my friends, most of whom have never even heard about these bands before. It's technically illegal, but could you really say that it was immoral? They never would have bought the CD anyway, so what would be the difference between my giving them an mp3 and bringing my CDs over to their place to make them listen to it?
In fact, having them listen to the aforementioned bands made my friends fans of the music. With mainstream radio hijacked mostly by foreign pop hits and local novelty songs, there was little chance they would have heard some of these songs. Now, we're talking about catching the bands at a gig somewhere.
Because I shared information, the artists I care about got a couple of new fans. Maybe it won't be enough to get them a house worthy of MTV's Cribs, but hey, maybe that's not such a bad thing.
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
Blog is bloggier the second time around
I was poking around the Pisay 98 blog the other day, looking at people's profiles (in lieu of doing actual work here at the office), and I noticed something odd: my blogger profile number is 231422.This was pretty unremarkable until I poked around some more and realized that most of the other bloggers' profile numbers already had seven digits; in fact, of all the other contributors to the Pisay 98 blog, only Alekos' profile number had six digits, and that was because he started blogging a couple of years ago at the behest of his (then) girlfriend.
Mark and Nikki, who are most responsible for kindling this blogging trend, have profile numbers of 1858263 and 3417346. Pat, the latest member of the Pisay 98 blog, clocks in at 4397285.
It goes to show, among other things, how blogging has exploded in the global Internet community. I remember when I signed up for an account, there was something like 20 Filipino bloggers, and pretty much everybody knew everybody. I signed up for that blogger account just to take a look at Pyra's CMS interface. It was kinda clunky, and it pretty much sucks (still sucks today, but not as much), and I decided to create a blogging script for my own blogging needs.
Today, about 5 years later, that's what I actually do for a living. Meanwhile, millions of others have discovered the joys of blogging, and a great many of them Pinoys, too, so much so that now it's no longer possible to know everybody. And I'm blogging again, and I'm even using blogger.
I guess it just doesn't feel right for me not to have a blog. I won't be putting as much effort into this as my old website, and I doubt it'd be nearly as popular. (And by popular, I mean waking up one morning to discover that some metrosexual congressman and his ultra-hot showbiz wife have started hanging out at your blog.)
See, back then, I was this UPLB student who ate pancit canton every day and had so much time on his hands that he went online to pretend to be a true Bohemian revolutionary who wrote about beauty, freedom, truth, and love...
Today, I'm a jaded web monkey who sits in front of the computer all day, and thinks all the Moulin Rouge references in the previous paragraph is lame, and maybe a little gay (not that there's anything wrong with that).
But I guess it's better than nothing. I'll be posting whatever stuff, old writings, maybe excess Gmail invites, the obligatory Linux desktop screenshot, and lots and lots of links to stuff I care about. Vee shall cee.
