Tuesday, September 26, 2006

i cAn't teLl anYmOrE


One day at a time. One day at a time.

SA concepts exam. Kayang-kaya mo 'to, bitch.

PS
Happiness: Saw Harry Potter 5 movie stills and let me tell you: Harry Potter is all man. Dang it.

Monday, September 25, 2006

wHen iT's oVeR


Wah. History paper done. There is hope. I can see the frickin light at the end of this frickin tunnel. Wee.

Oh, and hello Aila and Nikita.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

tHunDer? liGhtNiNg?


I can't believe I'm stuck here in Ateneo, in my sweaty NSTP gear, waiting for the frickin rain to stop. My body hurts, I am angry at the world, I desperately need sleep and I wish I'd taken the donuts with me.

I hate! The glowing kind that sends off sparks at a six-second interval.

Now. Excuse me while I distract myself.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

spElL orAnge


I've been saving up the bitchiness and it's a wonder how it hasn't really exploded in manner of person who ate santol buto and couldn't shit it out.

Hm. The bad thing is, I can't let it out. Think verbal constipation. This is why I've started to sound whiny. Vocabulary's really terrible too. Have been regressing, I'm sure, to childhood days and that state of mind. (I attribute this to the fact that several times during the course of the day, I've taken to calling for my, er, mommy.)

Oh lordy, I want to rant.

(1) What's the use of sleeping at the ungodly hour of four frickin o'clock for a subject that you can't just seem to get the hang of? I mean, I studied (because maybe, the lack of sleep's messing with my common sense) and I happen to know what he's talking about. But he has that whammy combo of a sigh and eye-rolling. That "You're an idiot" sigh and the "God save me from morons" eye-rolling. Yes, go on, sir, intimidate me.

(2) Go on bitch, gimme all you got. It's high school all over for the two of us, noh? But what you didn't count on, Miss-Two-Characters-and-a-Colon-Title-Equal-Novel, is that I *snap snap snap* am a bitch too. A ginormous one who doesn't even think dipping your hair in glue or snipping the sleeves of your uniform is below human dignity. Or even, oh dread this you airheaded exclusive-school-for-girls-bitch, I can write a letter. Fuck you.

And I want to rave.

(1) Kasi naman, Nikay eh, pinansin mo pa yung shirt ni _______. Grr. Yes, it's half-open. And yes, it's wet. Fuck.

(2) Ngayon lang kayo nakakita ng binti? Buwahahahaha.

(3) I know this makes me a terrible person and this is another mark against me in God's record book upstairs but I am happy that __ is(are) miserable. I am ecstatic that there is a problem, that it's not always heaven in La-la Land.

Oof, I am in sooo deep.

<<-->>

Okay. I feel better. Now, to return to the mess that is my life. Toodles, world. I shall probably surface in another month or so. But as you all now, I often eat my words. :p

God bless us all. (FREE CUT SA THEO!)

Monday, September 18, 2006

pAk oN a sTiCk


I have to write about Mr. Rosar Crisostomo (does the name sound familiar, anyone?), as my assignment for this publication I belong to.

Tanginaaaa. God, asan ka na baaaa?

PS Going crazy, apparently. No space left in my planner, as all days are filled with whatever chu-chus and shiznit. Argh. So. Much. To. Do. Gaaaah.

Friday, September 15, 2006

tHe roOf oPeNs


History shiznit and Heights open mic with, ironically, faulty microphones. Blues, blues, blues and flaming wings, aweeee.

Yes, I'm that tall chick. And sure, you can like girls.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

roSaRy tuCkeD iN hEr liNgeRie


Why oh why oh why wasn’t I in that Cosmopolitan Bachelor Bash thingie?! Why? All I could do was stare as impossibly good-looking men paraded oh-so-gaily on an elevated platform with the least amount of skin covered. And thirty seconds, at that, sa ABS news. Oh god. Although I think my innards rearranged themselves at the sight of John Prats (the fuck?!) and Patrick Garcia trying and failing to be sexy, I wasn’t at all disappointed by all the other male models—pretty boys meant to be ogled at like, say, tapa at Monterey.

Sorry. I woke up with a crick in my neck, without any feeling in my ghastly legs and then I learned that I’d tucked Sex in History under my pillow.

My entire day was a catalogue of pain, encompassing all possible avenues:

At Socio, I had to sit through my professor’s class with that review of him and his class, which I read yesterday, reverberating inside my head, refusing to be silenced.

During my one-hour break, some divinity floating around, who had nothing better to do, gave me sufficient reason to cross out one statement from my randomization in yesterday’s post. I mean, hello, isn’t it being a tad mean to slap me with the fact that ay, he has a girlfriend pala. Gr. (Di bale, it’s not the end of the world. I’m just, say, winded, that’s all. I mean, said girlfriend has history of snagging a previous crush. Ano be-e-e?)

At Aesthetics, we had to make our curriculum vitae and I had another whopping realization: I am so amateurish. That one publication was a fluke. Has anyone here actually read it? Gawd, I was such a Pollyanna at fourteen. And that’s another thing. It looked good in print that I was a high school senior at fourteen. (Now, at seventeen, I’ve lost my novelty. Add that to the fact that I am awakening from these narcotic-induced imaginings that had me thinking that I am actually a passable, if not good, writer. Wah.)

Okay, so publication isn’t the only way of judging someone’s literary prowess. In fact, it’s often an unreliable one. So I’m just bitching. Wahaha.

Sa Theo. Duh. Do I really have to say why this is a torture? Context clues: Introduction to Theology, under Mr. Rosar Crisostomo.

Swimming. Ach. Body pain, shrinking lungs. Sus.

Notice that the length of my descriptions sort of match my energy level. It fluctuates too, see.

Oh, why am I ranting? Why am I wasting your time with my uber-long (Schlifen Plan!) and far-too-wordy entries?

Because this is my blog at magdusa na lang kayo! Buwahahaha! :D

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

tEstoSteRoNe bOys aNd hArlEqUin giRls


I have been awake for thirty-nine hours (and counting), sustained only by a few catnaps, a galon of limp-assed coffee and the threat of leaving Ateneo to study in University of Perpetual Help Rizal - Molino Campus.

Finished my short story and I feel very good only because of the fact that I actually finished it. Oh, and I need feedback, since I have to re-edit it blah blah. If you wanna read it, it's in here. Go wild.

<<-->>

I can almost taste the semester's end. Sleeping until four o'clock in the afternoon. Eating Inay Lydia's estupado. Watching wrestling with Mommy, Daddy, Joshua and John. Giggling over pirated movies starring Johnny Depp and Hugh Jackman with my mom. With my mom, again, choosing between Book A and Book B at any random cheap bookstore and in the end, buying both. Gloating at Joshua and John, since they're still in school. Goofing around my unchanged (I should be worried, I know) high school classmates. The possibility of harassing another Slut of Society.

Oh, and Cebu. Beach. The possibility of wrapping this blob of a body into a tiny yellow polkadot bikini. (Be afraid, Cebuanos and vacaccionistas.) Just lying there. Sand. Sand. Sand. (In your buttcrack.)

My my, what else? OhduderellehowcouldIforget? No THEO, no PE, no FIL, no SA. Freedooooom!

Strangely, it fast forwards. When I pause to think about the next sem, all that comes to me is getting my hands on a new notebook. Wonderful.

Oh yeah, and 4:30-7:00 Fiction Seminar. YEY.

<<-->>

Some random stuff, primarily brought on by evident lack of sleep:

1) I hate the fact that Anna Nicole Smith's son's died at her bedside, while she rested after giving birth to a daughter. I love Anna Nicole, promise. She's the silliest, sweetest piece of white trash ever to grace Hollywood. Oh god, what am I saying?

Urgh. Basta. No one deserves this kind of pain.

2) I think I have a crush on ______. Wah. Tangina, isa pa 'tong sakit ng ulo.

3) Do I look fat in these jeans?

4) I want to write about Jo. Not kidding.

5) Though I am aware that Wed will probably come after me with a spear, His Royal Highness is just too cute. (Tarsier.)

6) Everyone has to read The Loves of Faustyna by Nina Fitzpatrick.

7) My mom e-mailed me, out of nowhere, asking, "Why don't you have a boyfriend?" I replied with, "Mother, please." These past weeks have been licks and slurps of hell itself. I don't need another imagined problem.

Pero teka nga lang muna. Why don't I have a boytoy?

*Someone whack me over the head with the nearest blunt object. Last thought was brought on by the book I just finished reading (yes, sabay-sabay akong magbasa ng libro). It had a photo of a naked man holding naked woman, both strategically covered with vines and a misplaced bedsheet, on the cover. Sadly, he's not Fabio.*

8) I took out two books from the library: Sex in History and Eros and Evil. At last, I am back to the ol' days, where I borrowed a book on mandrakes just because, leisure readings on Von Masoch, and bedtime stories like Sex Crimes in History. Yes. Am extremely hormonal girl bordering on creepdom. Haha. (Was about to take out book on fetishism. The subheading really intrigued me: From the blankhetty-blank to the Post-Human. It had a picture of a robot-woman with gigantic, transparent boobs on the cover. Couldn't take it out since the librarian person guy who was arranging the books kept giving me weirdo stares. Argh.)

Monday, September 11, 2006

oN tHe cOuNt of tHreE


I'm not even aware how many hours of sleep I had last night. Nor do I care to count. I pointedly looked away from my alarm clock before I went to bed, which was only after reading two of the three books I bought yesterday. That meant I did absolutely no studying for a ginormous Aesthetics exam that involved an inch-thick reading. Come on, between an apparition of an ass in the sky and Exploring Art, what the hell are you going to pick?

There's a pointless short story involving a boring little prude that needs to get done. Tonight. Even if I have to glug liters of coffee to finish it.

And then I remembered that I have to write to my benefactor and shiiiit, kailangan ko ng picture. Arrgh. Where the hell am I gonna find one?

Marami pa talagang kasunod. Ang daming mangyayari. One day at a time, Sash, one day at a time.

Trivia naman tayo: It is a living religion that does not depict it's god. The answer? Adeism. Meaning, said religion is Adeistic. Woo!

Sunday, September 10, 2006

wAiL wAiL wAil


The soundtrack for HighSchool Musical is currently set to Caterwaul in the background. Am in Paranaque right now, although yesterday, as I was in my dorm, reading an E-book in escape of my own short story that is yet to be written, I thought, I'll stay here. It's not so bad. Of course, I was alone then.

And then pumasok yung roommate ko. Tangina, na-buwisit ako.

And so here I am.

Hm. I have to go back to that hellhole to write and to study for gigantic aesthetics exam tomorrow.

I need a new place to stay. Or else I might end up in jail for manslaughter. Please adopt me. Please. I don't shit on the carpet and I stay off thefurniture. And I don't bite. Usually.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

bAtiSta lOviNg


I might be incoherent. Blame Batista.

Oh my gooood, I love you so much you gargantuan wonder of the male specimen! Tangina, I laaaab youuuuuu!!!

*I'm not going to the Gateway meet and greet thing. Hiya ako eh. Don't get me wrong -- I am soooo willing to look like an idiot for the King, even if I'm alone. Hiya lang ako sa kanya. I mean, the utter Filipino-ness of this hooplah... Ahahaha, ahlavhet!*

:p

Batista, when I am rich and super-powerful, I can meet you anytime I want, one on one pa. Kahit ringside. Weee!

And then my mom told me na when that happens, he'll probably old and deflated.

Oh.

It doesn't matter!

Friday, September 08, 2006

iM bRinGiNg seXy bAck


Funny how people who suddenly dropped out of your life some odd months ago suddenly blast their way in with same audacity and teeth-gritting tootsy-pacutesy. And looking like Judas Iscariot at that. (Jervis, quiet.)

And isn't it just annoying that you have to forego being part of something you've always dreamt about just because you're stuck with the newest terrorist tool that's trying to pass off as a 3-unit subject in this oh-so-Catholic university of yours?

And don't you just know that the world's shot to hell because you're stuck in class with Satan's favorite douchebag while someone like


is being paraded in all his steroid hotness not fifteen minutes away from you?!

And then, isn't it just so freaking peachy that the part of your melted mind that's in charge of the only thing you thought you could do great at -- that this must be the key to your future greatness -- is currently under maintenance for an as-yet-unknown period of time? That Creative Writing land has been the victim of extensive biological warfare, whose cause is not limited to those McShaker fries? That the freaking cursor on your dusty laptop screen just blinks and blinks and blinks and blinks. Plook. Plook. Plook.

Tell me, Majo Larosa, gatekeeper to the Land of Liquid Writing: who do I have to sleep with to finish your story which has to be kick-ass (oh, no pressure, none at all) or else all silly dreams of becoming a writer are forever dashed because if I'm not good at this then I'm not good at anything at all and will probably experience identity crisis leading to ultimate breakdown? And wow, what a long question.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

eLoquEnce iS a giFt


i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology
i hate theology i hate theology i hate theology

muy claro?

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

cOrRidOr tRaFfiC


I see you're trying to worm out of an-
other responsibility, young lady
O little woman,
trying to stop and stop and stop the hands of time,
like trying to stop another cliche
from appearing, radiating, in this monitor screen.
And ha! the rhythym has gone,
the prose doesn't sing
and you're left with an empty,
barren, this wasteland, a sidewalk.

Get on it, get on it, work work work. The week will end and so will this fucking semester with all its crazy professors and bitch-fit girls and boys all coming together, hands held, screaming a cheer, a hosanna, Hallelujah motherhumpers and all your beaten asses. There's gotta be more, there's gotta be more, than 100-point essays you'll never ever get right, reports on bestiality, those short stories and nonfics, laughable poetry you freak, Charles de Calonne and Josephine Beauharnais. Come on, come on, come on, life, get a move on.

Ignore Mr. Whorange Mangoes as he passes you by, don't even think of taking a bite. Come on, life, come on.

So what if you can feel the blood runnning through that corrugated body, if you press back against a damp wall? It doesn't matter if your knees buckle or that your thighs hurt like on a prostitute's first two hours. Come on, life, come on.

Ignore that dampness in your bones, that hollow in your chest. There are no aches in your body, no blacksmith beating away in your mind. Nothing is there, only you, and sixteen just suddenly wooshed by and you've got a half-page curriculum vitae, baby, that you have no idea how to fill. (I can bake a mean cake and dream a wicked wet one.) Stop this suckling of toes, that tickling of my fingers. It won't get you anywhere.

Now work, stop the ranting, this lingering, this ramble. Ignore everything else.

You will float when you are hollow and the wind can take you in his arms and throw you to wherever you see when you turn your face to the sun.

Go, bitch, go.

boOgEr coMpLex


Commentary on a world so far away from my own little sad one:

Vanity Fair with the Cruises on the cover. See? Baby gurl is not an alien. Wee. She is so cute, though, and fuzzy and a bit photoshopped. Kewl.

Cuteecuteecuteecute.

Little girl will grow up to become High Priestess of pretty and I shall take all of my boyfriends when I've become world-renowned Famous Person.

God, please let this little girl grow up to be a nice person. We have enough bitches in this world.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

fAstEr kiLl puSsyCat


Holy crap, my head hurts. Spent the past two hours trying to put my life in order and of course, I failed. There's the insanity that is Fil and this PLAC thing and the Caracoa chaos of it all. The outline is due on Thursday and there's an undecipherable instruction pa about a powerpoint thingie. Agh. I have to find Gemino Abad and Krip Yuson. And I have to stay alive.

Tapos tanginang Theo yan, I think my laptop's gonna crash kasi I downloaded everything tas I haven't read them pa and then may libro pa and I am sooo pulling my hair out.

And then there's SA with the report thing and then the culture poker.

And then may long tests sa Aesthetics and then yung midterms sa SA uli.

*if sir japolonio wasn't our teacher, i'd have hated this subject looong ago*

I am hungry. I haven't eaten. (Kaya nga nagugutom, diba?)

Nababaliw na akooooooo!!!

Monday, September 04, 2006

gOoDbYe, stEve


(Muscle) pain is relative. Brain damage is forever.

Gah. Why oh why oh why oh why am I so sick? People find it strange, even improbable, that various viri (plural form of virus, nyeknyek) can invade this elongated body of mine. Even my mother doesn't believe me. I think she thinks na

[L]ying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.

and after all, to the understated mindset, I shall make a living out of lying.

...

Naks, ang lalim.

Jev asked me (through YM) kung ilan yun legs namin sa SA race. I typed, "I remember having two but they're gone now." Before I sent it, I realized that she was asking about the legs as in phases, not binti.

Anyway, I cut classes so that if I become supersick as in bedridden as in I only have months left to live, mag-oovercut ako at dropped yung subjects ko. Tas alis na ako ng Arneow kasi ala na akong scholarship.

Pero, naisip ko lang, why the hell would I still care eh mamamatay na nga ako?

<<-->>

Steve Irwin is dead. Huwaw. And here I thought he'd die because one of those crocs would reach the end of their patience and lop his head off. Apparently, the stingray got to him first. The weird thing is, I imagine the stingray being French, while the crocs are Mafia-esque. Ano ba.

<<-->>

Some _ _ won't return the History handouts from the Reserved section. Hoooooy. Pa-experience naman niyan o.

weAthEr foRecAst


O, yan. So no one (*cough* Msr. Manois *cough*) won't imply that I am lying. Implied nose niya.

Everything from Yahoo! Weather. I have no idea what half of it means basta I understand na uulan!

Tonight: Variably cloudy with scattered thunderstorms. Low 78F. Winds light and variable. Chance of rain 60%.
Tomorrow: Scattered thunderstorms. High 88F. Winds SSW at 5 to 10 mph. Chance of rain 60%.
Tomorrow night: Variable clouds with scattered thunderstorms. Low 78F. Winds light and variable. Chance of rain 60%.
Wednesday: Scattered thunderstorms. High 88F. Winds SW at 5 to 10 mph. Chance of rain 60%.
Thursday: Scattered thunderstorms possible. Highs in the upper 80s and lows in the upper 70s.
Friday: Scattered thunderstorms possible. Highs in the mid 80s and lows in the upper 70s.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

iT stiLl huRts!


Oooooh. It hurts pa rin. Hala. My back, my shoulders, every freaking joint, my abs, my balakang, my hips, my puwet, my thighs-all-around, my knees, the backs of my knees, my calves, my feet, my toes. And my throat and my head. Halaaa. I have two-hour swimming drills tomorrow, not to mention facing the Devil Incarnate again.

But the pain's worth it. (Naks.) Even though I ran through T. delos Santos so many freaking times over and over and over again, I lost count, it was fun. Kahit na I was extremely sleep-deprived and ready to bite off someone's head at the slightest provocation--and this is anyone, I'm telling you. Kahit na the heat was so excruciating, I had a couple of black-outs: like, I'm running then I suddenly stop kasi everything turned black. Jeesh, it was all worth it, kahit na I had to fend off the latest record of indecent proposals from dirty old men, druggies and (gasp) kids barely reaching my waist. Masaya kahit buang ang SA prof namin at naisipang pahirapan kami kasi trip niya lang. (Waha. :p)

It was fun kasi gravehopping is something I've always wanted to do. And I always wanted to be caught on camera with a flashlight stuck between my lips as if I was practicing giving head. And how wonderful is it that I had to go around Munoz, beggin for money with nothing but my inherent kadaldalan? I realize that other teams got by through their cunning and booty but mine were on low that day (of all days) and I really never had a booty to begin with. Hm.

Thanks to Verne and his driver and the luggage-from-Japan-smelling car of theirs. I got home safe and sound, as you can see (read). :p

<<-->>

My HS friends are so sweet. I got a phone call from them last night, telling me that they were in my house back in Cavite. Awwww. Daddy fed them my leche flan and it did seem as though they were having fun, kahit yung birthday-ee is a jillion miles away. Ang kulit, we talked for fifteen freaking minutes. :) And I got news na a) si Etei na at si Kenneth and b) tuli na si Kenneth! (Haha, not in that order, I think. :p)

I miss them suman but my body protests kahit na I just go to the bathroom. Araaay.

<<-->>

To my blockmates... er... you are the wind beneath my wings.

Hahaha, ang hirap mag-senti pagdating sa inyo. Asus, magtatawanan lang tayo eh... :D

Basta thank you, thank you, thank you. To Nikay, Kaka and Gab, my groupmates, and Ate Shar, our faci. Then (I'll say this accdg to seating arrangement na lang, oki?) Yaps, Charz, Sam Q, Trish, Sam P, Isel, Jev, Verne, April, Wed, Aila, and some blanketty blanks kasi I, er, forgot your names. :3 Sorry! :p Ay, to continue, Manny, Zoe, Lia, Saab, Cara and Danni. Yup. And the respective boyfriends. :D

And Sir Apolonio, kahit na nagkalintik-lintik ang buhay ko dahil sa inyo, thanks pa rin. (Besides, I possess some very incriminating photographs of you and a special someone. Buwahahah! :p)

Yey! The next time we have a block field trip, it has to be with the smallest number of brain waves sent and received and NO running, only except for special circumstances na sumabog yung retreat house or Fabio-esue aliens landed in front of us and are beckoning.

Labshu, everyone on earth! World peace! Love your neighbor: don't kill! Remember, practice makes permanence! Tsu!

Saturday, September 02, 2006

haBerdAy hoNey


I never knew a body could hurt this much. Oh god. I ache in places I didn't know had muscle. And even my ass hurts, which is really weird, since I don't remember using it during the race. Well.

Oh god, see what all that insanity's done to me?! I even forgot to greet myself! (Hehe, self-plug!) Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday to meeeee!

Wow. That was just so happy. :)

Am in Paranaque, trying to move my ass off this oh-so-welcoming bed. I need to take a bath using clean water, as the water spewed by the hostel's showers was an un-waterly yellow. To quote Sarj, "I'd rather bathe in my own sweat than that." I second that.

I'm seventeen! I don't know what difference that makes but I'm seventeen!!! :D

Sige. I'll go rub myself down with Alaxan gel. Oof, ang sakit.

(Will probably be more writer-ly tomorrow.)

Toodles! Thanks blockmates! :p

Friday, September 01, 2006

ruN oUt of cOmpLiCatEd tHeOriEs


090306 -- I wrote this down before I headed to Nueva Ecija.

Halaaaa. Seventeen. Seventeen. Seventeen. And in a bus! Sheht.

Pramis.