Monday, January 31, 2005

It's All About What?

It's All About Love. That's what the title said. But, really, what the hell was it all about? I didn't understand an effin' thing about the film. All throughout I tried to stay alert, afraid of missing the one clue that will lead me to enlightenment. So, I was gripped by anxiety, awaiting the climax or the startling revelation that, horror of horrors, failed to come. The film ended without me grasping the plot, much less the underlying theme. All I remember is the surrealistic flying Ugandans scene towards the end. Oh, and also when husband and wife John and Elena, played by Joaquin Phoenix and Claire Danes, died in the snow due to exposure. (Well, hello! Their wardrobe was in no way suited for that kind of harsh climate. I'm surprised they even got to trek that far in the snow.) In the end, I guess love conquered all--well, uh, except death.

From beginning to end the movie was peppered with disjointed vignettes that I'm too irritated to write about for they just didn't make any sense. I'm not going to bother writing the events that led the characters to that barren land of ice nor am I even going to waste precious internet time by giving you the film synopsis. What an utter waste of time and money, I'm sorry to say. I can't believe I sat through two hours of that. Ugh.

I think there was one thing the movie got right, though: the world doesn't make sense. They definitely did a damn good job of portraying that.

Monday, January 24, 2005

Pogo Sticks and Neuroscience

Get a Pogo Stick for Your Brain!

Make your mind into a weapon of mass discovery.
Supersize your mental fries.
Experience the brain-building power of daily KnowledgeNews emails now!


I don't really know what to make of the above ad copy of KnowledgeNews.net; especially when juxtaposed against the one below.


In these forlorn regions of unknowable dreary space, this
reservoir of frost and snow, where firm fields of ice, the
accumulation of centuries of winters, glazed in Alpine
heights above heights, surround the pole, and concentre the
multiplied rigours of extreme cold.
--Francis Spufford, I May Be Some Time: Ice and the
English Imagination


Found both pieces in my daily dose of vocabulary from dictionary.com. I don't usually pay attention to ads included in emails, but for some eerie reason, like some iniquitous unknown force was at work, my eyes wandered to that particular copy.

Pogo stick for the brain. From the first time I read that to this very minute, my brain's been puzzling over what the mental image of such a product should look like. And, more importantly, the purpose of such. I believe a pogo stick in the brain would do more harm than good. And who will be riding the pogo stick? Nerve impulses? A nerve impulse on a pogo stick traveling across a synapse, taunting axons and dendrites. That should make for some geeky fun. Then for the warfreak in you, make your mind into a weapon of mass discovery. Oh, this should give Al-Qaeda a run for their money. And, lastly, for the fast-food enthusiasts, supersize your mental fries. Whatever that means.

See the stark contrast between that ad copy and the second quote? The latter is a product of literary genius. Hmm...makes me think. You're not saying the author actually got a pogo stick for his brain? Oh, what a terrifying idea.

Friday, January 21, 2005

About a Sport, a Movie, and an Album

Played badminton with the hubby for two hours this afternoon. Surprisingly, no muscle aches this time. My body's probably gotten used to the sport. Woot! Tomorrow will see another badminton session, with brother and cousin and girlfriend.

I just watched "Supersize Me" this evening. Man, Morgan Spurlock sure had the guts to undergo his health-jeopardizing experiment. And, thankfully, still had his guts intact afterwards. At least his docu was able to spur a much needed change in the American fast food system, and maybe in the school cafeteria system, too. Having seen the dangers of eating fast food and all (McDonald's, especially), I'm still not dissuaded from future Twister Fries and Caramel Sundae binges. Actually, nowadays, I'd rather have Jollibee's Strawberry Shake than any kind of sundae. Yummy! Now you see why I have to undergo such a strenuous exercise as badminton.

Feels good to be finally doing something aside from being cooped up in the house. I really feel a difference after working out a sweat. Even if it's only in my delusional mind that I feel healthier, it sure beats feeling weak and bored most of the time. I do have to strengthen my lungs again. Those years of smoking left me gasping for breath and tiring easily. Or probably there's something wrong with the way I breathe or take in oxygen while exercising. I notice this always happens to me while jogging or playing badminton: I get red in the face when exerting much effort. Lack of oxygen in the brain, perhaps? But when I feel that I'm going to pass out, I stop and rest for awhile. Or slow down my pace. That usually does the trick. Then I go outrun some imaginary tri-athlete or go slam that shuttlecock right smack in my opponet's face. Of course the latter is an exaggeration. I'm not that good. Yet. ;)

I'm listening to Duncan Sheik's Phantom Moon right now (album courtesy of bandmate Joon). It's not what I'd really call happy music. It's reminiscent of Elliot Smith. Some songs are just so heartbreaking they're bordering on suicide music. But it's perfect late at night. I have to hand it to Duncan Sheik: he has that kind of voice that just rends your heart to pieces. It breaks into your veins and consumes your whole body. Suddenly, you feel what he's feeling. It's more than empathy; it's some kind of assimilation that's happened. I guess that's the charm of his songs and his voice. Thank you, Joon! It's a much loved album. :)

Well, that's it for now. Run along.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Ode to a Tree

If I were to be a child of nature, I'd choose to be a tree.

A flower dies an ugly death: it turns brown, then wrinkles up until there's no more smooth space left on its once silky body. In life it's fragile; it's spine, malleable; its voice, weak. Its kind of beauty is frail and passing, eventually reduced to a byte of memory in our heads after the grace wilts away with the beauty.

A tree, on the other hand, speaks of a wisdom man can never achieve by himself. Trees have heard sacred whispers floating in the wind and secrets sung by nightingales. They have stood proud for centuries, and in their silence, have cultivated the wisdom of the ages. Their wrinkled bark is in no way unsightly for it speaks of a resilient and steadfast rule in the kingdom of flora and fauna.

If I were a tree, I can give shade and shelter, ingest man's carbon dioxide, and provide him with twin molecules of oxygen necessary for his respiration. I can prevent raging waters and loose earth from ruining man's life and livelihood. I can spread my branches toward the sky and let the leaves, in their rustling, tell the secrets of nature for the benefit of those who seek answers to life's mysteries. I can bear witness to a love some would carve on my bark. I won't complain of sappiness for I, myself, am sappy. After all, it's in my genes. (Forgive my feeble attempt at humor; I see it's something trees aren't born with.) I can bear the brunt of a frustrated individual; I can take more punches than man could ever throw. I can be a shield against the temperamental wind. I can be a shoulder to lean on; I can carry that weight. I can absorb man's tears and even shed some of my own in resonance with his grief. I can be anything you want. I'll be everything you want.

I wish to have the enlightened soul of a Druid. Or the omniscience of a Wood Nymph. Or the obdurate arms of Treebeard's kin.

I wish I could be a tree.

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Looks Like Morning in Your Eyes

There is nothing like listening to Norah Jones on a cold, quiet night and seeing the soft yellow illumination of the night lamp caress the bed pillows. Kinda puts me in the mood for love. And there is the impulse to sigh--the good kind of sigh, mind you. It is the sigh of contentment of one who's been reminded of the beauty and evocative power of music. Suddenly there is a warm, fuzzy feeling to counter the cold with. I just love this feeling! It's a kind of high that portends good fortune. It's a sense of awareness that life is good. I know my description isn't capturing the essence of it; there is a substantial amount of soul lost in translation. Better savor this feeling before it's gone. It's fleeting as it's fragile. So, I'll stop blogging now and just sit here, engaged in a trance, pondering the secrets of the universe. This very moment I can honestly say,


I have already figured out how happiness works.

Monday, January 17, 2005

Stay Tuned

Feels good to be playing music again after a one-month abstinence! Or was it more than a month already?

Last night, we had band practice. Finally, we were able to finish that new song that's been around so long it's technically old. I can't wait to play it live! I just hope my band mates will be practicing on their own time. It's a tricky song: for one, it's new; then there's the complicated riffs and drumming. We'll see how it goes at this month's LFS. ;p

Saturday, January 15, 2005

Trophy Days

Busy is good. There is less time to wallow in depression, engage in philosophical rants, or figure out the various levels of existentialism.

When I got home last night, my legs were aching from walking miles and miles yesterday. After doing some ocular in a factory in Las PiƱas for a project I'm working on with dandelionfluff right now, we went to Makati to grab lunch. After heading our separate ways, I attended to some official business I had intended to do while in the area. Instead of taking the FX to and from destinations, I decided to take the skywalk and get some exercise. Last stop in Makati was Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf where I met with opts and had a lovely conversation. How quickly time flew! And I got a bunch of Elvis Costello CDs. Thank you, thank you! I absolutely, positively, enormously, love them! As if you didn't already know that. :p

Anyway, When I finally headed home, the MRT was jampacked. I suffered the whole ride being squished by hordes of people. It was like an ant colony! Usually people thin out at the Cubao stop. But last night was an anomaly. From the Ayala station to the Northern end, the passengers did not let up. I couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief, and fresh air, when the train finally made it to the last stop. I got off then walked to SM North Edsa. Had dinner with ultraman, bumped into Jason who was having a smoke outside Tower Records, walked back and forth SM Cyberzone, then finally, this time for real, headed home.

Thus, with all the walking around the whole day, my legs began to ache. And because I have a masochistic nature, I still pushed myself to play badminton this afternoon. It really feels good to be sweating and moving all my limbs. Haven't gotten any serious kind of exercise for months now! And there's nothing like the good feeling that comes with exercise, especially with the thought that I managed to kill some of those stubborn fat cells.

So, all in all, yesterday and today (though today has yet to end) were one of those good days when I felt I had a good grasp of life and its workings and I can't find anything to complain about, aching legs and jampacked MRT notwithstanding.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

blather-dee, blather-da

The cold bug hit me again. But only for the whole day yesterday. In most cases, my runny nose and puffed and teary eyes are caused by an allergic reaction. But now I know it also has to do with stress. If I'm not careful enough to take things easy, my immune system breaks down. I guess I also have a weak immune system, to begin with. :p Maybe the sleepless nights have taken their toll on my body.

The night before last, both me and my hubby couldn't sleep. It wasn't as bad for me because I don't have work. He, on the other hand, had to wake up at 3am to go work. He ended up not sleeping at all. Lack of sleep notwithstanding, it was a fun night. We spent it fooling around. Not the sexual kind of fooling around, but the silly kind. I told him I'd sing him a lullaby. I sang the Birthday Song. He did the same. Then we started doing second voice alternately. We were horrendously out of tune, but we didn't care. We must've irked the hell out of the nocturnal bugs and insects! So, in the middle of the night, we were laughing like crazy and singing the Birthday Song. No one's birthday was coming up. His was a month ago while mine is 5 months away. See the absurdity of it all? Sometimes I think it's this room that's making people crazy. :p

When the Birthday Song laugh trip was over, I told him, "Let's do the dial tone thingy in Adaptation." For those of you who have seen the movie, you know exactly what I mean. For those who haven't, here's a backgrounder: Meryl Streep was tripping out and she called up this guy (sorry, forgot his name, but I think he's the Dad of the gay kid gay Dad of the kid who had a crush on Thora Birch's character in American Beauty) and asked him if they could emulate the sound of a dial tone. Each of them hummed a particular note that, when done together, sounds like a dial tone. So that's what we did. We hummed together to form sound waves resembling a dial tone. It was actually kind of relaxing because when you hum a note, your temples vibrate in a soothing manner. Kinda like when you murmur a prolonged "OM."

I don't remember what else we did but we sure had a blast. Mababaw lang talaga kaligayahan namin. LOL! Just like when we came up with a "Name that Christmas Tune" game last Christmas. We didn't invite any participants because we were sure they won't agree with the rules of the game. See, we put a twist: when you hum a song, you have to change the tune. You sing the lyrics in your head but the tune is altogether different; you make it up off the bat. In this case, you have to enumerate all the Christmas songs you know before you hit the answer, unless, of course, you have ESP. I know it's a ridiculous game--so ridiculous it puts the word "ridiculous" to shame, as if "ridiculous" in itself isn't shameful enough. Uhm, did that make any sense? You get what I mean.

So, there. I don't even know what kind of entry this is. On second thought, I think it carries the theme: worthless, time-wasting stuff. There you go.

Sunday, January 09, 2005

four truths and a lie

I'm calling on all my friends (okay, strangers, too, so nobody feels left out) to post four truths and a lie on their respective blogs. I bet everyone will get a kick out of this. Let's see who's the most imaginative/creative in weaving a deceitful tale or whose truth is uncannily stranger than fiction. This will surely keep everybody guessing! Hahaha!


1. My first time sucked big time.

2. My date and I were nearly mobbed by an angry household who thought we were staking out their house when, in fact, we were just having a heavy make-out session inside the car which happened to be parked across their home.

3. I've never had sex in the closet.

4. A taxi driver shared with me some unsolicited details of his sex life.

5. I've never cheated on a significant other.



P.S. I'm sorry, but I'll never tell anyone which among the five is a lie. But if you will insist, I might relent--but then, expect your name to appear on my hit list.



Friday, January 07, 2005

gundam-it, i'm obsessed with chairs!

I finished my first Gundam kit, Gundam Astray Blue Frame, this afternoon! I have yet to define the lines with a black marker, though. Nevertheless, I am happy with it. Too bad my camera didn't do justice to it. Darn it for not having macro settings. Darn the owner for not getting one with such settings. :p

I actually won the Gundam Astray Blue Frame at the Toyrepublic's Christmas Party raffle. I started working on it last night and gave up after two hours. I woke up early this morning to finish it, breaking only for lunch. The only drawback of working non-stop are the sore thumbs I have right now. I think I've overworked my thumbs and they're not making me forget it. My fingertips hurt as well; kinda like the pain you get when you've cut your nails a bit too short. Argh.

On to a completely different topic (but not different from that of two days ago). This is my favorite chair. Just like Mike (not my Mike), I adore Baguio/Northern-made furniture. Sadly, I can't use this as a computer chair since it's too small--or low--or both. Right now, its existence is purely decorative. On second thought, not entirely so, 'cause it also serves as a night table since I don't have one. Before I retire for the night, it becomes a rest haven for my glasses, cell phone, and book. I can't say I've utilized it for its original and main purpose since I normally sit in bed or use the computer-chair-that-needs-to-be-replaced when I'm in the bedroom. When friends come over, there's usually stuff in this chair, so they don't get to enjoy the marvelous sitting experience it has to offer. Okay, so I got a bit carried away there. Bottomline: the chair is nice and quaint and comfortable.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I miss going out on Saturday afternoons. Good thing I'll be meeting with dandelionfluff tomorrow, a perfect excuse to get out of the house and enjoy a leisurely Saturday. Coffee and conversation will be a perfect way to waste the day away.

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

happiness rests on a chair

Good news! The dark clouds have lifted and I am now back to my happy self. Hmm...maybe happy is such a strong adjective. After all, I am less than usually happy. Maybe normal is more appropriate. Normal is safe becasue it can be anything. Okay, so I am back to my normal self. I was able to sleep relatively early last night; relatively early means 1:30am. Though before sleep came, I had the weirdest feeling: I felt I was going crazy. I was so disoriented and, even without looking in the mirror, I knew I had crazy eyes. You know how the eyes of crazy poeple look? Their eyes literally and figuratively bore through you. It's like they can see your deepest secrets but at the same time they aren't really seeing you, they're actually seeing past you. And when they're not looking at you, their eyes wander around. I could've sworn last night I had crazy eyes. I felt like my eyes had ADD, they kept looking around the room searching for nothing in particular. Geez, is this a journal of the insane?

Anyhow, I'm glad I've surpassed that craziness, if only for the time being. And, hopefully, my body clock has resumed normalcy and I can once again catch and enjoy the lovely morning sunshine. Have I mentioned that we still have birds where we live? It's pretty soothing to wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside the window. Amazingly, despite the fact that we live in a highly urbanized zone near EDSA, birds aren't extinct in our vicinity.

Moving on to domestic affairs, this afternoon was spent on a quest for the perfect chair for the computer table we bought recently. Personally, I don't like the sight of office swivel chairs inside the bedroom so I requested that we get a more stylish chair; one that would blend in the overall decor of our room and somehow speak of our combined personalities. Call it what you will, but I truly believe that something as trivial as a chair still merits a considerable amount of thought.

Unfortunately, we went home empty-handed. All the chairs we liked were out of stock. Only the display merchandise were left and they weren't selling them for a discount. I would consider buying something I really like even if it's the display item if and only if they would sell it at a discounted price. No way am I paying the full price for something that's been used already, even if it was for display purposes only. So, that being the case, the quest for the perfect chair was reluctantly abandoned. Maybe a trip to a different mall will be more fruitful. I guess that special chair will have to wait. But the cosmos better have the baddest chair in store for me.

the days of insomnia are back

Maybe my depression's caused by my dysfunctional body clock. It can't tell the difference between day and night. I stay awake all night, sleep when the sun comes up, wake up in the middle of the day, then wonder what the hell just happened to the better part of the day.

I've been living like a zombie the past few days as I've been having trouble sleeping. The cogs in my head ceaselessly whir and squeak that they've been keeping me awake. Semi-lucid dreams scramble on top of each other that I can't remember a thing when I finally open my eyes and, with a sigh, surrender to the futility of sleep. I'm hoping tonight will be different. But something about how my senses are still keen and alert tells me that this is going to be yet another looong night.

Sunday, January 02, 2005

a cold, cold night

What did I do the first day of 2005? I slept in and I starved myself. Well, the second one isn't exactly true. I woke up around 1:30 in the afternoon and since I wasn't feeling hungry, I didn't eat at once. I waited until 3pm to do that. And that's because my hubby, who also slept in and had just woken up around that time, wanted to have lunch (as if you could still call a meal at 3pm lunch). I would have passed up on the meal entirely and waited 'til dinner had I the heart to let my hubby dine alone the first day of the new year. So, a very late lunch we had.

As if the start of the new year wasn't sucky enough, there's this weird thing going on. Just a few days ago, I have been raving about how I feel this is going to be a GREAT year. Now (actually, it started two days ago), I'm feeling kinda lost--like I'm missing or missing out on something that I can't quite define. I feel like I'm neither here nor there; as if time stopped and I'm caught between--to borrow something from a blog I chanced upon in the past--the tick and the tock. I have no idea what day of the week it is. I feel hung over from 2004. I know I've written this kind of thing a couple of months ago and have managed to transcend it. But, gawd, here it is again. That ugly feeling is creeping up on me once more. Is this what manic depression is? Or bipolar affective disorder? Have I not conquered this madness years ago when I vowed to become happy and not dwell on things too much? But here it is again, taunting me; luring me to the colorful web of chaos; prodding me to surrender to lunacy. Lunacy. Is this behavior lunar-influenced to merit such a name? Has this something to do with the inhabitants of the night sky getting on each other's nerves? Or is this purely a turmoil of the mind? These are times when I seriously feel I'm going crazy. Fuck this shit.

Okay, so to keep myself from going over the edge, I'll just start practicing writing 2005 for when I fill out forms and such that require the date. Ink erasures and smudges are ugly and so unprofessional-looking.

So, this is the year 2005.

The exact date is January 2, 2005.

It is supposed to be a good year, 2005.

2005 2005 2005 2005.

Don't you think it looks nice seeing 2005 in print? The numerical figure is somewhat symmetrical: the 2 and the 5 look like mirror images of each other and they look nice sandwiching the 00s. And now that I've written 2005 repetitively, I hope my brain has replaced 2004 in its memory and will command my hand or my speech to write or say 2005 when asked the current year. Sigh. Such useless and idle talk. I apologize for the nonsense. As I said, I am, yet again, adrift in limbo and I need this gibberish to keep me from thinking about how empty and lost I feel.

Fuck, any minute now I am going to cry. It's 3am and I am waxing despressive. I see Alex Ross's stocky Batman looking at me with condemning eyes from the screen wallpaper. He looks self-confident in a haughty kind of way and I hate it. I want to scream at him and tell him to stop looking at me that way. But if I do that, I'd definitely rouse the suspicion that I'm a loony. So I'm not going to do that. Instead, I will ask him in very nice way, "Mr. Wayne, uhm, Mr. Batman, can you please stop giving me that condescending look? It makes me uncomfortable. Thank you."

WTF?! I'm talking to Batman on a wallpaper on my computer screen. WTF. It's too quiet in this room and the lamp is casting off a ghostly glow. My feet are cold, but I'm too lazy to get a pair of socks from the drawer that's two feet away from me. It's getting colder as the night progresses. Morning will be even colder. Sleep is relief so I hope to get me some of that later. Actually, sooner is better. Anything to get my mind off this damned feeling. It's like a vortex and I'm spiraling downward. My stomach feels hollow and my heart is heavy. I have the queasy feeling associated with anxiety. Maybe TV will do me some good. Yes. I think that's the perfect thing to do. It's better to get lost in a sea of cable channels than a sea of nothingness.