What's a four-letter word that also means fatty flesh?
By that time everybody was stumped. Mara was lost. Steph was lost. Even I was lost. And I think nobody answered a crossword puzzle from the newspaper before. Nevertheless, the unusual Tuesday boredom had the first pick up the newspaper lying around, the last volunteer a ballpen, and the middle peer into the squares and think of the answers.
And suddenly I was doubting whether Mara was a newbie to answering the crossword. Or maybe it's just surprisingly easy - it's a small one, after all - to the point that she was throwing answer after answer. I was looking the other way around, so I cannot really read the obscure one-word clues. The next thing we knew, half of the puzzle was filled, Edong had contributed one word, and nobody was believing my answer.
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6/30/2007
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6/25/2007
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Niko never seems to run out of energy. His enthusiasm for almost everything goes for miles, accomplishing far more than he intended to. He also never runs out of things to talk about, although this all depends on whether anybody is around. Also a fairly good writer, he spends his idle time thinking about what to write next. Not making it to the publications meant meeting new friends and actually being a good friend, every single time you need him.
We were asked to supply eighty words for the Green and White staff, and already we're stumped. As the deadline loomed and everybody crammed their write-ups, I've seen more and more people turn to their classmates to provide them with adjectives, phrases, or sentences that describe them. Even worse for some, entire write-ups. And some of them have turned to the one person they thought would be of help to them. Me.
But alas, I have turned them down. I think five people asked me to make their write-ups, but I never did any one of them. My policy was, I'll never touch anybody's self-testimonial without me having touched mine. (Catch was, Jackie and Clarence got ahead in line, and I gave them sentences. Then I got irritated and imposed my policy very strictly, making up excuses along the way.) Come to think of it, I just refuted the very thing I wrote on my write-up. "Actually being a good friend, every single time you need him." With the way I treated this issue, it's already a lie.
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We were asked to supply eighty words for the Green and White staff, and already we're stumped. As the deadline loomed and everybody crammed their write-ups, I've seen more and more people turn to their classmates to provide them with adjectives, phrases, or sentences that describe them. Even worse for some, entire write-ups. And some of them have turned to the one person they thought would be of help to them. Me.
But alas, I have turned them down. I think five people asked me to make their write-ups, but I never did any one of them. My policy was, I'll never touch anybody's self-testimonial without me having touched mine. (Catch was, Jackie and Clarence got ahead in line, and I gave them sentences. Then I got irritated and imposed my policy very strictly, making up excuses along the way.) Come to think of it, I just refuted the very thing I wrote on my write-up. "Actually being a good friend, every single time you need him." With the way I treated this issue, it's already a lie.
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6/24/2007
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And since you happened to be frigging specific about it, I cannot fall asleep. Or am I just that deprived?
But then again, there are so many things people fail to notice. Sure, we live in a superficial society. I got passed over for my student DJ auditions because I don't look so good. I got edged out of who becomes my closest friends because they think I'm such a loser. But I'm lucky, for there are people out there who willingly embrace me for a lack of an interior motive, and there are people out there who find themselves conforming as I conform to them.
Celine is such a talker. I mean, last Friday she was talking about all these things in the relationship she is currently in. Ariane, Jill, Jem and I were somewhat mesmerized, but for a person like me who's excessively clueless about relationship particulars - and yes, I've given advice for such topics far too many times to be called an expert - the clincher was Celine's short description. "You've gotta compromise," she said.
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But then again, there are so many things people fail to notice. Sure, we live in a superficial society. I got passed over for my student DJ auditions because I don't look so good. I got edged out of who becomes my closest friends because they think I'm such a loser. But I'm lucky, for there are people out there who willingly embrace me for a lack of an interior motive, and there are people out there who find themselves conforming as I conform to them.
Celine is such a talker. I mean, last Friday she was talking about all these things in the relationship she is currently in. Ariane, Jill, Jem and I were somewhat mesmerized, but for a person like me who's excessively clueless about relationship particulars - and yes, I've given advice for such topics far too many times to be called an expert - the clincher was Celine's short description. "You've gotta compromise," she said.
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6/23/2007
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Last Thursday I found myself lining at the SPS Canteen for lunch with Mara and Steph. The funnier thing was, I already had lunch by then, and I have done everything else I was supposed to do. Probably I only had to man the ACA booth and attend my classes, and maybe wrestle with the idea of going home while thinking of so many things. Anyway, somehow Mara raised her being a vegetarian at some point in her life, and with a quirk: she'll never pass up the chance to have bacon. Occasionally, some fish, sure, for being vegetarian isn't just having only vegetables, but bacon - that crispy strip of pork we usually get for breakfast, if you're lucky enough - is something she claims she couldn't resist.
Inevitably, at the ACA booth, they - I'm throwing myself out of the question because, well, you know why! - were talking about food. Steph had aligue-flavored rice, which everybody was suddenly hell-bent on discussing. Yeah, it's crab fat - even weirdly, Steph is allergic to crab - and Edong was finishing up what Steph hasn't finished, so heartily in fact, until he realizes that it is crab fat. All that time, Mara was merely eating while chatting about that and everything else. She's a third of the way through her curry rice, and it's been twenty minutes.
And all that's irresistible is still there. You know you have rules, but there are just some things you can never get away from - and yet usually get away with. There can only be so many glances you can steal from someone, and that's all you live for, eventually.
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Inevitably, at the ACA booth, they - I'm throwing myself out of the question because, well, you know why! - were talking about food. Steph had aligue-flavored rice, which everybody was suddenly hell-bent on discussing. Yeah, it's crab fat - even weirdly, Steph is allergic to crab - and Edong was finishing up what Steph hasn't finished, so heartily in fact, until he realizes that it is crab fat. All that time, Mara was merely eating while chatting about that and everything else. She's a third of the way through her curry rice, and it's been twenty minutes.
And all that's irresistible is still there. You know you have rules, but there are just some things you can never get away from - and yet usually get away with. There can only be so many glances you can steal from someone, and that's all you live for, eventually.
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6/17/2007
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I haven't been to Starbucks for myself for my entire life. Despite the ubiquity of the one that stands along Torre Lorenzo, I haven't passed by for the expressed purpose of buying myself something. I've been there, sure, but only when Derek offered to treat me one early Saturday morning, and I couldn't refuse. (And yet I bought a hot chocolate.) Sometimes it just amazes me to think that the first thing my frosh sister did was to go by that establishment and blow three-fifths of her daily allowance for a tall frap.
It's nothing, really. I just read this article this morning and found myself objecting slightly, because the drop quote insinuated that whoever from this generation who doesn't know the difference between a cappucino and a macchiatto must have lived under a rock. And so what if I'm not into coffee? Maybe it's the buzz that I naturally have, but I never found the appeal of the closest Starbucks branch, and why people resort to killing to get their yearly planners. So that was exaggerated, sure, but I think you get my point.
I've been in DLSU for three years and yet I couldn't get used to it. Maybe spending a big chunk of my life in the middle of urban utopia still shocks me a bit, for upscale pop culture just moves on fast and I never know the difference. It's been three years and I still don't understand why people want to buy a digital camera only to take pictures of themselves, and themselves alone. Just today, while I was in line to buy some popcorn, there was this twelve-year-old girl who was taking photos of quite everything - her brother sprawled on the floor, the Taters sign on top of her - and, eventually, she got the camera with both hands, stretched it out reversed, and the inevitable happened. I was seriously despising this act, at the top of my head. I still cannot comprehend why people do this. Do they just love their own faces?
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It's nothing, really. I just read this article this morning and found myself objecting slightly, because the drop quote insinuated that whoever from this generation who doesn't know the difference between a cappucino and a macchiatto must have lived under a rock. And so what if I'm not into coffee? Maybe it's the buzz that I naturally have, but I never found the appeal of the closest Starbucks branch, and why people resort to killing to get their yearly planners. So that was exaggerated, sure, but I think you get my point.
I've been in DLSU for three years and yet I couldn't get used to it. Maybe spending a big chunk of my life in the middle of urban utopia still shocks me a bit, for upscale pop culture just moves on fast and I never know the difference. It's been three years and I still don't understand why people want to buy a digital camera only to take pictures of themselves, and themselves alone. Just today, while I was in line to buy some popcorn, there was this twelve-year-old girl who was taking photos of quite everything - her brother sprawled on the floor, the Taters sign on top of her - and, eventually, she got the camera with both hands, stretched it out reversed, and the inevitable happened. I was seriously despising this act, at the top of my head. I still cannot comprehend why people do this. Do they just love their own faces?
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6/16/2007
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Maybe I should call myself lucky to be the very last to tape a direct address program yesterday. I was actually expecting to be going home at around eight, or nine, in the evening last night. Maybe we should've called it a merciful act, but six more groups will be taping next week, so we technically haven't finished everything. Then again, I was hungry, and I haven't eaten since a quarter before one.
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6/14/2007
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I am a parasite. I cling on to practically anything and everything.
I'm actually a believer of what Naomi has been saying. I suck the energy out of everybody. Or, to be more accurate, I tire them with my hyperactivity. Three weeks into class and I managed to half my sleeping time and yet seem very preppy hours later, although I've started to crash and burn at the worst possible time. Sure, some people say that attribute of mine is a good thing, with all the efforts going to one thing, and an impeccable enthusiasm that even I, sometimes, cannot believe is coming from me.
The same goes for everything else. My enthusiasm for everything has gone to the point that everything I cling to gets, usually, well-enthused on. I don't know - it's not really a new thing to me, but somehow it's happened in a more pronounced way now. Or it's me thinking about it far too many times, but surely I've never been, well, this excited?
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I'm actually a believer of what Naomi has been saying. I suck the energy out of everybody. Or, to be more accurate, I tire them with my hyperactivity. Three weeks into class and I managed to half my sleeping time and yet seem very preppy hours later, although I've started to crash and burn at the worst possible time. Sure, some people say that attribute of mine is a good thing, with all the efforts going to one thing, and an impeccable enthusiasm that even I, sometimes, cannot believe is coming from me.
The same goes for everything else. My enthusiasm for everything has gone to the point that everything I cling to gets, usually, well-enthused on. I don't know - it's not really a new thing to me, but somehow it's happened in a more pronounced way now. Or it's me thinking about it far too many times, but surely I've never been, well, this excited?
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6/12/2007
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Eventually it all comes back to the araby.
And so does the meaning of the story. Another teacher, another spin, another surprisingly relevant literature lesson. What you want would not be what they seemed to be once you get there. And probably that's why we all just pretend to be happy.
There's this air of mystery in everything that's new. You probably know about the one who opened up a box, saw an iPod, and played with it until he knew everything and it just becomes part of a routine? Well, I actually made that up, but I think you get the point. It's us getting bored easily, especially when all has been discovered and we want something else to spark our imaginations. I think that makes us a little bit more coherent in a way. Sparks power us.
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And so does the meaning of the story. Another teacher, another spin, another surprisingly relevant literature lesson. What you want would not be what they seemed to be once you get there. And probably that's why we all just pretend to be happy.
There's this air of mystery in everything that's new. You probably know about the one who opened up a box, saw an iPod, and played with it until he knew everything and it just becomes part of a routine? Well, I actually made that up, but I think you get the point. It's us getting bored easily, especially when all has been discovered and we want something else to spark our imaginations. I think that makes us a little bit more coherent in a way. Sparks power us.
Read more »
6/11/2007
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During the summer, I decided for myself that I'd be linking to Anna's blog. No fudging as to whether we were close or not - sure, we've met, maybe talked a handful of times, but that was it. It didn't push through because there wasn't a suitable photo to use. I just gave her the chance to choose - which rarely happens - but what she gave me didn't look good once saturated, or even readjusted. So, Niko ends up looking for Anna Abola photos. Three considered, one pending approval, and I obviously can't wait.
And true, it's not really a secret that she's pretty. Probably a few heads have turned - one of them, unabashedly mine - and that was probably it. And minutes ago we were talking about compliments. Sure, I was supposed to give one until I just lost the thought and gave up. Besides, I already gave her one a few days back, and I guess that would suffice. Besides, there isn't really anything to say, much more to someone you actually barely know, even if you've heard the name a thousand times and you can't avoid hearing it again.
"I was supposed to compliment you again, but they never work nowadays," I said.
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And true, it's not really a secret that she's pretty. Probably a few heads have turned - one of them, unabashedly mine - and that was probably it. And minutes ago we were talking about compliments. Sure, I was supposed to give one until I just lost the thought and gave up. Besides, I already gave her one a few days back, and I guess that would suffice. Besides, there isn't really anything to say, much more to someone you actually barely know, even if you've heard the name a thousand times and you can't avoid hearing it again.
"I was supposed to compliment you again, but they never work nowadays," I said.
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6/07/2007
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The funny thing with "yours truly" is you can never be somebody else's. It's just a weird claim people make. Write someone a letter, and end it with that line. Who gives a toss about whether they have you or not?
Issa's answer was a fairly blunt one. "Date a nice girl na kasi," she kicked in on one of those days when I had nothing to whine about but a need to have someone. At least the thought of it comforts me, because - what else could be better than knowing someone out there waiting for you? I made a euphemism out of it and called it a cuddle. A mere cuddle. A mere cuddle is apparently all I need, and I still find that fact funny.
I finally finished Cinema Paradiso today, and I was actually successful at holding back the tears. Sure, I watched two films and a film montage today, and eventually it all piles up. We were talking about making the actors feel at ease while shooting scenes - maintaining emotional connections - and looking back, how they moved me to the brink of shedding tears still amazes me. Where do they get all that power? Salvatore di Vita felt alone in the thirty years since he left Giancaldo for Rome, and probably that's where I end soon. I guess I was moved because I saw myself in him - one who just cannot seem to let go.
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Issa's answer was a fairly blunt one. "Date a nice girl na kasi," she kicked in on one of those days when I had nothing to whine about but a need to have someone. At least the thought of it comforts me, because - what else could be better than knowing someone out there waiting for you? I made a euphemism out of it and called it a cuddle. A mere cuddle. A mere cuddle is apparently all I need, and I still find that fact funny.
I finally finished Cinema Paradiso today, and I was actually successful at holding back the tears. Sure, I watched two films and a film montage today, and eventually it all piles up. We were talking about making the actors feel at ease while shooting scenes - maintaining emotional connections - and looking back, how they moved me to the brink of shedding tears still amazes me. Where do they get all that power? Salvatore di Vita felt alone in the thirty years since he left Giancaldo for Rome, and probably that's where I end soon. I guess I was moved because I saw myself in him - one who just cannot seem to let go.
Read more »
6/06/2007
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You're given a terrible ten extra pounds that only your production staff can see, but it does make a difference. Or maybe some of us are still fumbling with the (basic) video switcher that apparently cost the school two million bucks. It is fun playing with the lever that controls how fast the transition between two shots are (unless you press "auto", in which case you surrender everything to fate) but you might soon snap it, even though it slides so well. There are a lot of lighted buttons on the entire thing, but you might end up loosening one of them.
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6/04/2007
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Sarah was asking me about video production class before my entire day in school started. She's still wearing dark shirts. I've never given a flying fudge about it anymore - just civilized, normal conversation. No insignificant hellos, no awkward gestures, no unwarranted I-miss-you-a-lots. Just her asking about how that class is going on, and then she mentioned having to climb up the fourth floor, where all the psychology students have been weirdly dumped.
Has it been that long? The last time I talked to her was during the elections. She was wearing what the party prescribed, waiting at one of the doors to Miguel, watching the polls drag on. Our conversations back then, if you'd even call them conversations, were shorter than what they used to be exactly a year to that date. At that time I was busier talking to her opponent Mica, or to one of her "babies" (I'm not sure about the adjective, but this is a wide presumption) Mara.
Up to now I still attribute the dark shirts to the results, although this is going to be terrible of me to presume. But in the many times I've seen her since I received that text message from Carlo saying who won and who didn't, the color palette has changed, and it has somehow stuck there. I guess that's the reason why that short chat before she went up the stairs was a little surprising. Or maybe I'm just not used to it anymore.
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Has it been that long? The last time I talked to her was during the elections. She was wearing what the party prescribed, waiting at one of the doors to Miguel, watching the polls drag on. Our conversations back then, if you'd even call them conversations, were shorter than what they used to be exactly a year to that date. At that time I was busier talking to her opponent Mica, or to one of her "babies" (I'm not sure about the adjective, but this is a wide presumption) Mara.
Up to now I still attribute the dark shirts to the results, although this is going to be terrible of me to presume. But in the many times I've seen her since I received that text message from Carlo saying who won and who didn't, the color palette has changed, and it has somehow stuck there. I guess that's the reason why that short chat before she went up the stairs was a little surprising. Or maybe I'm just not used to it anymore.
Read more »
6/02/2007
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Niko Batallones writes The Upper Blog.
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Some photographs have been edited using post-production curves from Shalla Yu.
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