With all the places I've been this year, you will find it odd that I have only used up three vacation days this entire year. Hmmm...imagine the possibilities...
[see imaginary fantasy balloon popped by the "No Money" pin.]
Erap and his armies vs. the People.This is not looking good. I just don't see how all of this is going to end without bloodshed. Will the masa be willing to fight the Armed Forces of the Philippines? Or will the masa be forced to four more years of having a corrupt, greedy, idiot for a president? Not to mention his ignorant, oblivious money-hungry cronies? And,oo nga, why DIDN'T he do this when it actually counted for something? Grrrr...
I changed the background coloring on the Writings Section. It's not linked on the main page though. When I'm happy with the layout, then I'll let you know. For now, any suggestions?
Ok, is it just me or does the X-files make it seem like aliens only go for white people? Not sure if that's a bad or good thing. Maybe I haven't watched enough episodes.
Never underestimate the power of sleep when under extreme frustration from sucky life matters. Good night, sweet dreams:)
If you are planning to purchase The NuyorAsian Anthology, (in which my piece Tsismis was first published!) I hope you buy it from them. As much as I love Babaylan, I like the version of Tsismis better in The NuyorAsian Anthology. Shhhh!
Just when you thought the world was forever cruel, Miss Gracie (my fellow ironedfishes squatter) is back. *Phew*
Last night, B. and I dropped by the Musical Box to see Christine while she was in town. Another familiar face, Lisa, who's editor of Ten, AAWW's literary magazine was there too. Being the party poops that we are, B. and I left early to catch up on sleep (yes, really) that we were terribly lacking in during these last two hectic weeks. In the pressure to get the second issue out, I unappreciatively forgot that one of the main reasons maARTe looks so good is coz my "kid genius" boyfriend designed it. Thank you, ga, for all the lost sleep and sacrifice...
To treat ourselves, we did absolutely nothing today but sleep, eat, and watch TV. The Goonies was on. I love the movie. It's so 80's. Oh, could you please help solve this annoying argument: Please tell me that the Asian guy on ER is not the same Asian kid from The Goonies and one of the Indiana Jones flicks. Please?
I have just spent the last two hours updating my resume and sending it to a ridiculous number of potential (ha!) jobs on Hot Jobs. After four and a half years of college and nearly two years of working, why do I feel ridiculously useless? Argggh. Time to sleep off the frustration.
Well, except for smoking. Although, there are times (believe it or not) that I do seriously consider quitting that as well.
Oh my goodness, we're getting tons of hits on maARTe! It's great, 'cept we're still workin' on some kinks. I would love to know your thoughts on it.
I think I need a new job. Working on my resume as we speak. Well, okay, more like searching for it.
Know of anything I can qualify for?
The sucky thing about looking for a job is that I NEVER seem to find anything I think I would be qualified for. So many required skills I don't have, so many years of experience I have yet to, well, experience, so much education that I didn't have.
What I wish I could do is this, but actually get paid for it. Wishful thinking, no?
Another day goes by and it is still not up...but not without progress! We're getting closer, inch by inch. It's all layed out. We just need to make some minor adjustments. In the mean time, take a trip into the Matrix.
Hehe, don't let it go to your head, Lady Pigletta. Oh, right, too late:) Congrats on the KBP Golden Dove Awards!! Send her fan mail and make her even more popular, okay?
Dang, I don't think I was half as articulate as this girl is at 15. Gee, I don't think I'm a quarter as articulate at 25. It must be what she eats for breakfast.
Ack! When did I suddenly switch gears once again, where I, the daughter, began worrying about my parents welfare, instead of the other way around? Not that I didn't care for their well-being before, nor did they stop being concerned with mine. But today, as I hugged my father farewell and watched him go through the metal detectors to get to Gate 18, I had this uncomfortable sensation at the pit of my stomache. Was he gonna be okay? Would he be able to carry all the carry-ons he insisted on bringing with him? Would he be able to get out of the airplane in Manila, get through customs, get his baggage, and meet my Mom at the gate trouble-free? Isn't this the type of thing parents should feel towards their own children?
After college, and maybe even during, I knew exactly what I wanted to do (well, sorta) when I graduated: Live in the Philippines for a couple of months, come back to New York, find a job, and move out of my house. I wanted to be independent of my parents. Live on my own just so I knew I could. I didn't want to be one of those people who lived at home until they got married to finally move out to live with my husband. How old-fashioned! Perish the thought!
Today as I left the airport, I decided that it wasn't such a bad thing that I was still living at home.
I suppose most people play different roles in their lives from mother to wife to sister to working woman. But for my own multiple roles, I find that they don't all fit together or match.
How do I explain this?
It's not really a dilemna but it's so odd how I often find myself switching gears, though not necessarily becoming a completely different person altogether. Like this morning, I played the role of "church girl" who plays the keyboards with the youth band and choir and gets up to sing in front of the congregation every now and then.
When I'm with my parents, I play "wannabe dutiful daughter" and am largely unsuccessful.
I have friends who know me from my youth.
I have friends who only speak to me in Tagalog.
I have friends who would never speak a word of it even if you tried.
I have friends who are (or were) activists who don't believe in going to church.
I have friends who smoke pot and pop ecstacy pills.
I have friends who are aspiring artists and writers.
I have friends who only know me through my website. :)
I have friends who think having a personal website is maarte.
During the weekdays, I'm "working girl" aka sucker at a low-paying non-profit organization.
In the evenings I play girlfriend and sometimes editor and sometimes I play both roles at the same time. Uh, like now. Hehe:)
The song went okay today, I guess. I couldn't tell. Although, I don't think I bombed, coz, H. usually gives me an honest critique even if he says something as innocuous as, "You were only a fifth out of tune, you couldn't really tell." And he didn't say that today. Even better though, after mass, the music director comes up to me and asks me if I would like to play at the Christmas Day masses and one of the New Year's masses. $50 per mass, $100 if I sing! Woohoo, that's $300 baby! Coolness!
Okay, back to the crutch of my life. At least until this afternoon.
It's 2am and I am still up. Unfortunately, it isn't due to having a wild, swinging Saturday night gimik. The damn thing isn't up yet, and I feel like I've smoked half a pack already, although it still looks pretty full. Hay, salamat.
I've only got two more things to edit, finish my editorial, and my designer is asleep in the next room. Crap, 7days late.
Note to self: Do not set specific date for upcoming issues ever. At least in public.
I get to sing again tomorrow. Normally, that would be a great thing, but considering the difficulty of the song, well really just one verse, I'm afraid I won't be able to reach the high notes. Yikes. Maybe I shouldn't be smoking so much tonite. Maybe I should go to sleep.
Hey I'm being exploited!! I mean fine, I'm not on a manager level, but sometimes I feel like I am since I'm the only one in my freaking department. Oh yeah, I'm a non-profit slave. Actually, more like sucker.
Between Mom and Dad, on the outset, you'd think my mom has the more colorful upbringing, what with her adventures in coming to the States, stories of her stopping school for years to support her family by selling bibingka and vegetables in the palengke. Mom's just more vocal in that respect. She'll tell her stories to anyone who listens, she'll even tell them twice, thrice, in fact. But tonite, I learned a lot about my Dad, just by asking him simple questions about his brothers over dinner tonite at the Hilltop Diner.
Dad's been through alot. I had no idea he didn't graduate from highschool 'til he has nearly 20 years old...
Dad was born in Romblon, a province in the Philippines. His mom, Bernardita was only 14 when she married his dad, Lolo Senando. My lolo died when my Dad was very young, maybe 1 or 2 years old. They moved to a small town San Luis in Batangas shortly after. Dad had 6 brothers and sisters: Anita (a step sister from his Dad's first marriage), Yolanda (who came to the States on a scholarship in 1955), Francisco (who's now somewhat of a shaman in Casiguran), Deogracias, Antonio, and Manuel. Lola Bernardita was so young didn't get to "celebrate" her youth until she had nearly all her kids. She was so young and quite beautiful that she was even part of the Santacruzans (religious processions held in the month of May that celebrated Queen Helen's (Reyna Elena) journey to find the Holy cross) while raising her six children!
Despite that, Dad couldn't understand why she would always pick on him for things. She would prevent him from joining school excursions, wouldn't let him go to school until he did all chores, things his own brothers didn't have to do. She would literally tell him that morning before school, that he needed to go to the river to wash the clothes, and he wouldn't be able to go to school until he did it. Sometimes he didn't have paper or a pencil to bring to school. This was part of why he dropped out for a couple of years after the second grade!! Dad told me that he used to fight with his brothers, typical competitve sibling rivalry. With his mom's actions toward him on top of that, he ran away when he was 8 and found a job cleaning public buses for a couple of years before his uncle found him and took him to live with his family in Lemery. During that time he was a runaway, his mom left her kids to runaway with a new found boyfriend to Mindoro. She came back a week later to get her youngest son, my Uncle Manny. The rest of the kids were left to fend for themselves.
Dad lived in San Luis for a few years and went back to school. After a while, he would see kids and their mothers walking along the streets, at the palengke, everywhere and he began to miss his mom. He would see mothers hugging their kids, holding their hands, and thought his mom would be like that too, especially if he returned home. So he left once again to Lemery to see his mom, anticipating a joyful reunion. He went to see her, expecting her to cry and hug him, but she didn't do a thing. She even asked him, "Why did you come back?" She was then remarried to a man who's last name was Lualhati (it means Glory) and had a daughter named Rosalinda.
He stayed eventually and by that time had finished elementary and went on to highschool. He experienced the same attitude from his mother. Didn't receive any allowance, and only had barely enough to buy school supplies because his stepfather would sneak him a few pesos every now and then. I can't understand why his mom would be against it. Dad had a really nice teacher in his 2nd year of highschool, and he would tell her about his problems at home. At the end of the school year, my Dad's teacher found out that she would be reassigned to Arellano highschool in Pasay, Manila for the next school year. She told my Dad, and offered to help him out if he was interested in moving. She got him a job working for her brother, dressing chickens and delivering them to various restaurants in the city. He got paid for that and got to live with the brother's family while he was in school.
When my Dad started college at Far Eastern University, he worked at a restaurant called Kismet. He worked during the day and took classes at night. It was there that he met an American banker by the name of Elliot who eventually hired him to be a messenger boy. He got paid 100 pesos a day, which was pretty good pay for that time. Mr. Elliot travelled throughout the country alot and took my Dad with him. From places as far north as Baguio and down south as Zamboanga, Dad got to tag along, as his personal assistant. Eventually, he got to accompany him and his family on a business trip to Hong Kong. Years went by and Mr. Elliot was transferred back to the States.
He wanted to bring my Dad, so he had Dad's sister, Auntie Yoly (who was married already and living in Seattle) petition him. It only took a year and Dad soon followed, living in Seattle for a few months with Auntie Yoly's family and then to New York, to continue working for Mr. Elliot.
That was a mouthful, no? Its so weird that I didn't know any of this, only bits and pieces. I wanted to make sure it got recorded somewhere. I hope it inspires you, even just a little bit, to find out more about your parents, if you can. You'd be surprised. You really don't have to go very far to find a good story.
You see, the sick and twisted, and ultimately quite depressing thing about this is that getting rid of him doesn't necessarily make the overall situation that much better.
Boy, I wish people like Christine, Red, Patrick, Mimi, and Andrea wrote for maARTe. Hint hint...Article submissions for the third issue is a whole month away...Can I add that to my wish list?
Dang, on days like today, maARTe is a big pain on my shoulder. Will we get it out on time? Haha, the answer is no, coz its already the 16th in the Philippines. Argggh...
The Looney on the farthest right is the answer to Thursday's "riddle." She disguises herself as the funny and witty Francesca on a Manila radio station, though we like to refer to her as Lady Pigletta. Hehe, joke lang, mare.
I have to sorta kiss up now, coz she got me, from the hands of Ely himself, (hopefully autographed!) his new solo album, "Wanted: Bedspacer." Hehe, don't forget to give it to Mom before she leaves!
An underground art group, The Bedbugs, is holding their first art exhibit at Surrounded By Waters beginning October 21 to November 11 entitled 1-800-BEDBUGS. BEDBUGS: Chati Coronel, Emman Dela Cruz, Adji Garcia, Adrian Malantic, Glenn Manalastas, Sherwin Pineda and jason Moss. The exhibit showcases the group's past and present eclectic artworks, from comics to sketches to paintings, works that have made them cult favorites among the young, foolish, and subversive. Joining the mites are two budding names in the world of alternative art, Cristina Dy and Mariano Ching. For more information, please contact Wire Tuazon at 724-2027. Surrounded By Waters is located at 187-A, Arle Square, The Pied Piper Place (parking lot beside POEA), Mandaluyong City.
Tito J. actually stopped the van, so I could get down and take this pic. Unfortunately the scan doesn't do the original photo justice. Maybe one day you'll come to my photo exhibit and see them yourself. :)
Dad's going to the Philippines in about a week. He's going there to pick up Mom, who's been there since July and to visit his ailing brother. I don't think they've seen each other in decades. They only recently "found each other" sometime this year.
With that in mind, I gave Dad a few tips and suggestions on his trip to the "homeland":
*Don't bribe the Philippine customs officers. In my experience, they don't bother you unless you have loads of expensive luggage or like 10 balikbayan boxes. They especially don't bother you if you are traveling by yourself. I don't know if my being a young female adult as anything to do with it, but when I travel alone to the Philippines, I avoid "tipping" anybody, unless they helped me in some (legal:) way like helped with my baggage or something.
*Do NOT tip the guys who check your baggage claim ticket. They are a bunch of snakes! Everytime I have gone through NAIA, they have purposely hassled and made a fuss of matching the exact numbers on each baggage claim ticket, assuming I would pay them for the convenience of not being bothered by that. All you really have to do is be frank and say, (in Tagalog or English, either way has the same effect) "Look, I am not going to give you any money, okay?" Make sure you say it loud for the desired effect. My aunt has a similar solution. She asks for their manager, loudly. The point is to make some sort of commotion to embarrass them and they'll let you go. Works everytime.
Places Dad MUST go:
*North Park, the best Chinese restaurant I've ever been in. My fave dishes are their Special Salted Diced Fish Fried Rice and their Pinsec Frito, which are basically fried dumplings cooked to perfection. My mouth waters at the thought. Even Mom liked it their food, and she, being the ultimate food critic - she's a cook herself - actually LOVED it. They make great fresh lemonade too. I don't know why, I've never tasted it better.
*The Kween's farm in Calamba Hills, Laguna. Tita E. and the rest of the Looney family own this organic herbal farm near our hometown in Laguna. They have all the herbs and vegetables you can think of! Dad just has to have dinner their at least once. Tita E. made homemade pesto, with the oregano and basil leaves they grow there. They've started packaging it for their family business, but when she makes it fresh, she adds whatever herbs and spices that strike her fancy at the moment.
*Quiapo and Divisoria, cheap street markets with everything galore. Need I say more?
*Red Ribbon, to pick up my fave dessert that only they can make the way it should be made, Chocolate Mousse.
I really can't stand confrontations nor some (actually most) forms of competition. It's hard for me to even watch a baseball game on TV because they always do that awful close up of the losing team's athletes who, without fail, always have some pathetic expression on their face. Same with the presidential debates, I can't watch because I can't stand to witness either one looking like an idiot (read: George Bush) at the vicious attacks of his opponent. It doesn't even matter if I'm totally against the particular candidate (read: George Bush, although Gore ain't no peach either), I feel terrible for them and their unavoidable lack of intelligence. Even friggin' Erap who is bringing the Philippines down with his corrupt dealings! I hate when they show photos of him in the newspapers in a sad attempt to look presidential. I cringe in unexplainable empathy, I really do.
I ate rasberry yogurt and a banana (oh, and a peach) for dinner. It feels so weird to eat healthy. Unlike lunch of course which consisted of fried scallion pancakes and steamed vegetable dumplings. Such is life.
Is there a growing trend of "social realist" films in the Philippines? Take for example the two awesome movies I watched today and yesterday. If you are lucky enough to understand Tagalog, or find a subtitled version, go rent: Muro-Ami and Bulaklak Ng Maynila I wonder if there is a trend, or is it just a reflection of the Pinoy movies I choose to rent. Probably the latter, but wouldn't it be nice if it were the other way around?
Well, okay, it wasn't exactly a strip bar. It was a bar, with lots of men in it. And silly me, watching from across the street, seeing tons of men file into this bar, I unfairly assumed it was a nudie bar. B., C. and I had made plans to catch a new Woodside "sensation" that many people in the "scene" were supposedly raving about: a weekly drag show that included one such pinoy name Mis Cherie Pie. Who could resist? The show started at 1am so we figured we could meet at Krystal's Cafe, a Filipino restaurant on the opposite corner at around midnight. B. and I get there, and we see they're checkin ID, 21 and over only. B. realizes he forgets his ID, I'm fiending for a cigarette, and he heads home. And for a moment, I wasn't sure if he was coming back. A couple of hours later, we come out of the bar with the biggest grins you can imagine. It was sooooo cool. This one person did an awesome Macy Gray in drag singing her hit song "I Try." There were of course Cher imitations and a wonderful Whitney Houston. I swear that wo/man's breasts look eerily perfect. Hehe. No they didn't strip. They just dressed a bit skimpy, that's all. Except for the host, Maria Clara stylin' Miss Cherie Pie. It was a fun night.
So he gets into a cab, and leaves me on the street corner. What's a girl to do, stranded at 12:45am, with plans to go to a Pinoy drag queen show when the venue turns out to be a sleazy (read: scary) strip bar? The only logical thing of course: find the brightest (read: safest), nearest (read: quickly) and gawdiest Filipino restaurant, stand outside and light a cigarette. Feel extremely pissed.
Have you read the Jimmy Corrigan book? It's so good. Brilliant, actually. I gave it to B. for his birthday, but now I wanna steal it from him and hide it under my pillow.
Weird things have happened the last few nights. B. and I find out that we've shared the same dreams or at least shared similar locations in our dreams. The first night, we were both in Manila, both in search of something, except I thought I'd find it in a large mall at my mother's instruction (hehe) and he was on a large hill. This morning, we woke up to find out that in our dreams we were both in a big hotel in the middle of nowhere and then in another big venue with multiple levels, except he thought it was a weird grocery, and I was on a futuristic airplane. What does this mean?
I missed Charmed last night because we had to play at a memorial mass, had band practice, and naturally had to eat dinner after all of that. At the Palace Diner on Utopia and Main (or is that 164th?), H., A. and I had a most interesting discussion about Lucifer. Makes me now want to read Dante's The Divine Comedy. Boy, I hope H. remembers to bring it to mass on Sunday. Ever since I read the Red Tent, my interest in that type of religion-based works has resurfaced. I even liked The Seventh Sign. And I adoredDogma.
The word of the day is "serendipity." I always had an idea of what the word meant, but could never give you a definition. Which is why I just subscribed to the Websters Dictionary site to get a daily "word of the day." And so I can learn the meanings of words such as "superlative." Uh, thanks Red, I think!
Oh! And while we're on the subject of definitions, I'm sorry, "putanginamo" literally means, "your mother's a whore." Not something you want to say to your girlfriend, guys, trust me.
Though the literal translation is "son/daughter of a whore," Putanginamo has the same impact as a good "F--- you!." Check out the site. Dear Chica is hilarious.
My first thought was to dismiss and dislike it, but I kinda like myAyala.com. They even have links to National and the Filipinas Heritage Library, places I spent significant time in when I was there...argghhh...gusto ko nang umuwi!!
Watched Voyager tonite. What did you think of it? I thought it was awesome! There is hope for better storylines, even if they include that "trekkian" cliche, the Borg. Why does it seem to get better at the last season? Just like Deep Space Nine. I don't think I watched that show too much until the last season when it got REALLY interesting. I guess it's too soon to tell, but I predict a smashing last season of Voyager. Didn't catch Andromeda, though Jammer says it shows promise, but come on, Kevin Sorbo??
Hey, I'm listed in BlogHop under "grrrls." What's that about?? They have ratings for the blogs, so if you happen to come across mine, be nice, alright?
While I was waiting to get on line, I watched some of Dark Angel, and though it wasn't as great as it was hyped up to be, I couldn't help but watch nearly half of the show. I think I'll tune in next week.
Do you think I'm a loser for adding the following show premieres to my planner:
Yay! I can go online at home now! Is it just me or is it plain freakin' wrong for it to take nearly 2 hours before successfully logging on AOL. Can I add DSL to my wishlist?
Wowsers, (did I just say "wowsers"?) found this neat thing from here. This is quite possibly the first Filipino (team blogs excluded) blogger actually based in the Philippines. Nice.
If you're lucky enough to be able to read and understand Tagalog, this is definitely a page to bookmark. Brosia is definitely my favorite comic book/strip "hero." I wish they sold P-gurines of her, but I suppose I can settle for the
all-cast shirt. Hehe. As if I have a dime to spare these days for such frivolous treasures.
De Quiros on the the Philippines: "It may have problems, but honesty is not one of them. It may have problems, but courage is not one of them. It may have problems, but striving is not one of them."
Did I mention that Conrado de Quiros is my favorite regular columnist of the Inquirer? I got to see him in person, when he came as a guest speaker for my journalism class in the Philippines a few years back.
It's October, and yes, my computer at home is still useless. Maybe, by October 2002, it will be working up to speed, just in time to realize that Pentium III's are being phased out, sorta like Betamax.
I started writing again. I don't know why. Tita E. started talk about ube jams and coconut jams and I was suddenly inspired. Using Tsismis as a springboard for a new story but with the typical fiction story style as opposed to the "is it a poem, is it prose, is it a play?" style of Tsismis. Maybe I'll add it to my Scribble section tomorrow. Abangan:)
