I actually don't see myself as a smart person. Sure, I'll admit (but not exactly brag) that academics-wise I'm somewhere at the top, but there's always the feeling that someone's meant to give you the one-up on something else.
I haven't really bothered reading most of the Sunday Inquirer Magazine since they refocused and became, well, generally less of an interesting read. This week's issue was on anything that's online, and anybody who's willing to cover a phenomenon is supposed to talk about the thing I've been doing for two years now - blogging. I didn't take offense about the front page blurb that advertised the article - "blogs have now become respectable websites with bloggers perceived to be highly literate and upwardly mobile people," it said - but it got the paranoid-bored-whatever hybrid thinking.
Am I really highly literate and upwardly mobile?
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9/30/2007
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9/29/2007
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I think I'm on the verge of being called a teacher's pet. I won't blame it on Misha's suggestions and her struggle to get emailed by Miss Bacalla, but nevertheless I'm facilitating everyone's entry into the journalism class' Yahoo! group. It's twice as hard because my emails are apparently being tagged as spam.
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9/26/2007
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Twenty-three hours ago I was still awake, but not for long. Misha just said goodnight, and I just said good morning, which is technically correct, because it's past midnight already.
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9/24/2007
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There are so many ways to make people's heads turn. Some make fools of themselves. Some don't even know they're making fools of themselves. Some pull all stops with the wardrobe they decide to trot. Some laugh and everybody senses the electricity, if cheese is allowed. Some, well, don't have to think about it.
The world knows I am a sucker for these things. Most probably it's the effortless demeanor, for that's the only way you sense the truthfulness of the thing, for lack of a better term. It's in the simplicity, in the ways they smile and somehow pass some magic spark among those who are entranced. But enough of the clichés and back to the story - I know cheese doesn't work well with me, what more with its tendency to melt.
I was on campus for a little over three hours, one of which was spent cooling off inside the department's radio studios, reading thirty pages' worth of speculation as to why the business of culture is involved in simple deception. Simple deception, indeed, because I didn't get a thing, yet I got what is said, at least to an extent. And that I would learn from Anna that reading it wasn't needed yet, but thankfully I was only eleven pages through.
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The world knows I am a sucker for these things. Most probably it's the effortless demeanor, for that's the only way you sense the truthfulness of the thing, for lack of a better term. It's in the simplicity, in the ways they smile and somehow pass some magic spark among those who are entranced. But enough of the clichés and back to the story - I know cheese doesn't work well with me, what more with its tendency to melt.
I was on campus for a little over three hours, one of which was spent cooling off inside the department's radio studios, reading thirty pages' worth of speculation as to why the business of culture is involved in simple deception. Simple deception, indeed, because I didn't get a thing, yet I got what is said, at least to an extent. And that I would learn from Anna that reading it wasn't needed yet, but thankfully I was only eleven pages through.
Read more »
9/23/2007
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We were given four days to work on our biographical grid for film writing class. It may simple be a table of ten columns with five items each, but it's proving to be harder than the storytelling journal we worked in for conceptualization class last term. If before, we only had to rack our brains in search of a story to tell, now we'll have to get a little more introspective. Not that I'm bringing myself down again, but being introspective is one thing I'm absolutely sure I'm never good at. Despite the blog entries, I'm not close to the ideal.
I crammed most of my storytelling journal, which isn't good, because I realized I'm not good at writing ten blog entries in one night. The first story I did was a crazily-conceived essay about why Lizette fascinated me (as of three months ago), and that alone took something like three days to get my thoughts across. Maybe it's the synthetic repression that's become part of my system - a way to ease the pain, if you'd like it dramatic, caused by whatever it is that has bothered me for the past few periods of time. I'm being hard on myself, sure, but it has worked. I'm still alive, and without any suicidal tendency.
Our first lesson for film writing class went simply. It must be personal, Sir Doy insisted. Thus my first screenplay for the class would involve some scenario that, on hindsight, is fairly funny. When I told Mae the story I realized that it's hard keeping up with faking coincidences, with my writing style bordering on the name-drops and cross-references. That story never really grew into some big deal - slightly awkward better describes it - and thus it can easily translate into three pages of visualized scenes with a soundtrack, to boot. If I wanted to be more dramatic, then I'd dig up the more dramatic stories that made their rounds in my psyche, thus the biographical grid. Ten columns, fairly safe to me, with items regarding what I love to what changed my life.
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I crammed most of my storytelling journal, which isn't good, because I realized I'm not good at writing ten blog entries in one night. The first story I did was a crazily-conceived essay about why Lizette fascinated me (as of three months ago), and that alone took something like three days to get my thoughts across. Maybe it's the synthetic repression that's become part of my system - a way to ease the pain, if you'd like it dramatic, caused by whatever it is that has bothered me for the past few periods of time. I'm being hard on myself, sure, but it has worked. I'm still alive, and without any suicidal tendency.
Our first lesson for film writing class went simply. It must be personal, Sir Doy insisted. Thus my first screenplay for the class would involve some scenario that, on hindsight, is fairly funny. When I told Mae the story I realized that it's hard keeping up with faking coincidences, with my writing style bordering on the name-drops and cross-references. That story never really grew into some big deal - slightly awkward better describes it - and thus it can easily translate into three pages of visualized scenes with a soundtrack, to boot. If I wanted to be more dramatic, then I'd dig up the more dramatic stories that made their rounds in my psyche, thus the biographical grid. Ten columns, fairly safe to me, with items regarding what I love to what changed my life.
Read more »
9/22/2007
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I've always had the feeling that something is bound to go wrong with whatever I try to do. Whether it's paranoia remains a different question - it's more of me trying to make it work right, and consistently, it doesn't at one point or another. Everybody knows I'm a perfectionist - thus what is supposedly a short paper becomes kilometric - and maybe that's a one-word answer to my plight. On second thought, maybe it is paranoia.
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9/20/2007
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Yesterday we decided to write down two names on that small piece of paper. Preferred mentors, I began. I turned to Jason and asked him about the names. We actually wanted to get Sir Rapatan as a second choice if we don't get Sir Doy, but Miss Diaz was talking about the former being the better choice if we wanted "to work alone." And the posters on the department's bulletin board says enough - emails galore for those who defended last term.
So we wrote down Sir Mariano's name. It's a weird fit for a group who's doing a feature film, because everybody knows he does journalism. But some say he's second compared to Sir Groyon, so that must be a good choice for us, right?
I remember our first day as CAM students. Print class, naturally, and there was the classic situation with Toni actually being in a dilemma as to what to call him, because apparently, he is a family friend. I don't really have that situation, naturally, but there was a time when one of my aunts suddenly asked me about him. They are also family friends.
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So we wrote down Sir Mariano's name. It's a weird fit for a group who's doing a feature film, because everybody knows he does journalism. But some say he's second compared to Sir Groyon, so that must be a good choice for us, right?
I remember our first day as CAM students. Print class, naturally, and there was the classic situation with Toni actually being in a dilemma as to what to call him, because apparently, he is a family friend. I don't really have that situation, naturally, but there was a time when one of my aunts suddenly asked me about him. They are also family friends.
Read more »
9/19/2007
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"You guys just put down two profs?"
But I was in the front row, and before it got chaotic I got the instructions by the neck.
"Up to two daw, eh. You guys put down three?"
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But I was in the front row, and before it got chaotic I got the instructions by the neck.
"Up to two daw, eh. You guys put down three?"
Read more »
9/17/2007
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Austine's documentary made it to our class. Well, I don't really know her, but I do know the documentary - their trailer was on our proposal defense day last term. The almost-forty who saw it in our class, and probably the forty others who saw it later, probably know that it's about the attention one can give their dogs. A yuppie with a lisp knows dog food is made of chicken and a gazillion extenders. A girl (was she the one on this blog entry?) has dog diapers and dyed dogs. An older woman bought a lot for seventy of their kind.
At first I doubted what this had to do with the readings on Marx we were assigned last Friday. I was happy to pounce on trying to think about what dogs possibly feel, trying my best to insert thought bubbles about social disparity on a story as simple as that of a dog lover and her dogs. I think everybody went in that direction, even if they didn't really get much of the readings. Maybe it was the question as to whether anyone would want to give lavish attention to a dog, or because it seemed unimaginable at first. Well, sure, Piyar did admit to giving her dogs the occasional trim, but as her mother said, you've got to know your limits. I almost threw in my thought bubble about childhood issues.
Sir Doy was still striking about the issue of poverty, it turns out. We've been talking about it since last Monday, with the statistics that I half-interpreted, and now the obvious gap is there again. The world insists we maintain the status quo, thus we get fantasy series where Ruffa Gutierrez plays someone who's poor and yet wears really affluent clothing. (Sponsored, I can guess with my eyes closed.) It's the same with the press, with the game shows, with the mainstream films, or at least that's what we've been discussing lately.
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At first I doubted what this had to do with the readings on Marx we were assigned last Friday. I was happy to pounce on trying to think about what dogs possibly feel, trying my best to insert thought bubbles about social disparity on a story as simple as that of a dog lover and her dogs. I think everybody went in that direction, even if they didn't really get much of the readings. Maybe it was the question as to whether anyone would want to give lavish attention to a dog, or because it seemed unimaginable at first. Well, sure, Piyar did admit to giving her dogs the occasional trim, but as her mother said, you've got to know your limits. I almost threw in my thought bubble about childhood issues.
Sir Doy was still striking about the issue of poverty, it turns out. We've been talking about it since last Monday, with the statistics that I half-interpreted, and now the obvious gap is there again. The world insists we maintain the status quo, thus we get fantasy series where Ruffa Gutierrez plays someone who's poor and yet wears really affluent clothing. (Sponsored, I can guess with my eyes closed.) It's the same with the press, with the game shows, with the mainstream films, or at least that's what we've been discussing lately.
Read more »
9/15/2007
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Misha was the next to arrive at the second floor corridor, before journalism class started. Ten minutes previous to that I arrived and waited for the locked room to be, well, unlocked. There wasn't any time to point anything out regarding her seemingly flawless American accent - usually I take it as more of a matter of word speed than upbringing - and I remember that she was insisting that I sit down. Five minutes remained before the class was supposed to start, and I barely gave in to her offer.
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9/12/2007
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Nothing's regular nowadays - my own adjustment period, from waking to feeling that something is done, is taking longer than expected. Sometimes I wonder why I never took the opportunity, early on, to be busy with things and look more accomplished like the rest of my friends. I've always known the world relies on names, titles and honors, but somehow I was stupid enough not to keep that in mind.
My only class for today was supposed to end at a little past eleven, but we were dismissed an hour earlier. Already advanced radio class situated itself on the brink between mastery and utmost geekiness, and I was enjoying it to much of my surprise. Sure, I love radio, but the surprise was because it is becoming very awkward, for me at least. Sometimes you end up pouncing on something because of the emptiness that surrounds your time, because you just itch to get working and cannot for some reason. Once we were dismissed, I was aimless again.
And then I don't know what else to write.
Read more »
My only class for today was supposed to end at a little past eleven, but we were dismissed an hour earlier. Already advanced radio class situated itself on the brink between mastery and utmost geekiness, and I was enjoying it to much of my surprise. Sure, I love radio, but the surprise was because it is becoming very awkward, for me at least. Sometimes you end up pouncing on something because of the emptiness that surrounds your time, because you just itch to get working and cannot for some reason. Once we were dismissed, I was aimless again.
And then I don't know what else to write.
Read more »
9/11/2007
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At this point it wouldn't help if I post my first impressions of the classes I decided to take. Eight terms into college and already they all seem the same. The same faces, the same teachers (until tomorrow) and pretty much the same expectations. Even on my only floating class, I managed to have the same classmates as last year - the OCM people, who were my classmates in two relegion-related classes during the past two terms - and even managed to predict the others! Thus I jokingly threatened to drop the class because Osang is there. But I'm not into adjusting anyway, what more with the long lines and the possibility of having to cut classes? Thank you very much, but I'm happy with where I am.
Or maybe not. Sunday night before dinner and I was having a mood swing. Anna even managed to call me a girl, because of unstable emotions that pop up for no precise reason. (If it's one for affinity then I'd not probably take it even.) Issa was the coincidental dumping ground, because she was surprisingly free, even on a weekend. After food intake, all was forgotten. Eventually I'd give in to what Anna was saying.
And again, I was in a melancholic mood, no thanks to Issa being melancholic as well. I sometimes wonder what could have happened if we met somewhere, somehow, sometime in the past. There were too many close calls - from Burnham Park in Baguio to the then-existent Wendy's branch along Taft Avenue - and only when one is at home do we realize that. You do know when you feel alone, right? Solo lunches is one thing, but not know what really is there is another.
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Or maybe not. Sunday night before dinner and I was having a mood swing. Anna even managed to call me a girl, because of unstable emotions that pop up for no precise reason. (If it's one for affinity then I'd not probably take it even.) Issa was the coincidental dumping ground, because she was surprisingly free, even on a weekend. After food intake, all was forgotten. Eventually I'd give in to what Anna was saying.
And again, I was in a melancholic mood, no thanks to Issa being melancholic as well. I sometimes wonder what could have happened if we met somewhere, somehow, sometime in the past. There were too many close calls - from Burnham Park in Baguio to the then-existent Wendy's branch along Taft Avenue - and only when one is at home do we realize that. You do know when you feel alone, right? Solo lunches is one thing, but not know what really is there is another.
Read more »
9/09/2007
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Today's biggest surprise came from Anna. I got a text message from her on a terribly lazy afternoon, and she was asking me whether I could watch today's DLSU-ADMU basketball game.
"Hopefully," I answered. "Why?"
"I was wondering if you could record the half time performance. Milan's gonna do trads again."
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"Hopefully," I answered. "Why?"
"I was wondering if you could record the half time performance. Milan's gonna do trads again."
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9/08/2007
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Let us not complain about the short term break! Think of it as a series of terribly-placed class suspensions where the rains prove to be non-existent. In fact, it's terribly sunny outside. It actually feels like a Sunday.
My classes on Mondays start at 16.00 - and that's my only class. I can then complain about having to go to school by myself entirely - they won't let me go to school seven hours early even if I already managed to wait that long, because they allegedly are concerned with me spending on lunch. (I think my parents want to cut my allowance.) That's probably the most low-key start to a term in college, but that shouldn't be. Besides, we're starting off on our thesis.
Last Tuesday I met up with Bocx, and he was talking about his thesis defense the week before. He's finished defending his feature, along with TQ and a girl, and he was talking about how their group had to defend to a panel of Cinemalaya veterans, unlike the others. I guess it all depends on luck, but I saw their trailer during our proposal defense the week before, and although it won't make sense at first, it looked very slick at the very least. Then came my affirmation. Maybe, I said, their thesis was meant for big things. He agreed. Turns out we'll be classmates in advanced radio class this Wednesday.
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My classes on Mondays start at 16.00 - and that's my only class. I can then complain about having to go to school by myself entirely - they won't let me go to school seven hours early even if I already managed to wait that long, because they allegedly are concerned with me spending on lunch. (I think my parents want to cut my allowance.) That's probably the most low-key start to a term in college, but that shouldn't be. Besides, we're starting off on our thesis.
Last Tuesday I met up with Bocx, and he was talking about his thesis defense the week before. He's finished defending his feature, along with TQ and a girl, and he was talking about how their group had to defend to a panel of Cinemalaya veterans, unlike the others. I guess it all depends on luck, but I saw their trailer during our proposal defense the week before, and although it won't make sense at first, it looked very slick at the very least. Then came my affirmation. Maybe, I said, their thesis was meant for big things. He agreed. Turns out we'll be classmates in advanced radio class this Wednesday.
Read more »
9/07/2007
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I don't have any books to read. Now this may be a self-serving statement, but it amazes me as to how I managed to write this good without getting myself exposed by the greats of Western literature. I read newspapers as a kid, but only for the typography and the layout. I only attribute my handwriting to my efforts trying to imitate every sans serif face I see, and there's always my habit, up to now, to read the newspaper from the last page to the first.
Get surprised, guys. I've been uninspired as of late. Maybe all this repression isn't working, because for once, I'm actually winning the war on unwarranted thoughts! Every term break I always complain of idle time, and the way it makes me think about what I have left behind and what I wish it was before I left it. But now, after nine hours in front of the PC, I have thrown away three blog entries, hoping that the fourth one - this one - survives and makes sense to the reading public, which surprisingly is growing.
But it must be a crazy idea for someone to decide that, yes, the world must be able to read my diary, through the wonder that is the Internet. And eventually my writing has evolved to talk less and less about what exactly happens in my life. Finally mastering the art of the euphemism, you might say, or even repression. Now, I'm lost for a topic.
Read more »
Get surprised, guys. I've been uninspired as of late. Maybe all this repression isn't working, because for once, I'm actually winning the war on unwarranted thoughts! Every term break I always complain of idle time, and the way it makes me think about what I have left behind and what I wish it was before I left it. But now, after nine hours in front of the PC, I have thrown away three blog entries, hoping that the fourth one - this one - survives and makes sense to the reading public, which surprisingly is growing.
But it must be a crazy idea for someone to decide that, yes, the world must be able to read my diary, through the wonder that is the Internet. And eventually my writing has evolved to talk less and less about what exactly happens in my life. Finally mastering the art of the euphemism, you might say, or even repression. Now, I'm lost for a topic.
Read more »
9/04/2007
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As grade point averages slowly decline, I slowly settle into my position in the world. As I went home I started thinking about what probably went wrong. Sure, I became complacent, maybe too relaxed with presuppositions, but on the bright side, it's good when you're having fun once in a while. It's not that you're abandoning your express intent where you are.
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9/03/2007
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After we finished our project proposal defense two Saturdays back, I hanged out a bit at the editing bay. I didn't have to be there, so it was a goodbye of sorts, although obviously we'll be back once post-production for our thesis gets rolling. I was watching the trailer for Caresse and Loui's presentation (which got a higher score than ours, although just a bit) on a feature about a lesbian relationship. I can't remember why, but I joked. "I can't do that," I said, "because I'm not capable of love."
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Niko Batallones writes The Upper Blog.
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