an odd dream
Posted at 10:09 AM

in my dream i thought of scrubbing my tattoo because it hadn't been scrubbed in a while (which isn't true - i am also very diligent about moisturizing it, but hey it's a dream). so i did and the ink came off and it looked like a little colorless scar (point in fact, the tattoo is over a scar that i got under, well, pathetic circumstances). the scar that remained was the shape of the tattoo, but smaller. i can't remember how i felt at seeing it disappear, but i know i wasn't particularly distressed.

then i scrubbed at another tattoo (which i don't have yet but i'm thinking about it. hehe) and the same thing happens.

then slowly, the ink starts coming back. i watch it creep, filling out the scar and the tattoos are restored to their original look.

it's just funny that i remember how everything looked in detail. i wonder though if there's any meaning to it - or it's just one of those random things. i know that the tattoo was one of the last things i was talking about last night. but still... hm

i'm not much of a dream interpreter, i just thought i'd write about it (and i do need to keep on writing just to make sure i don't give in to fatigue after two solid days of nothing but). but if there are any ideas about meaning out there, i'm open

a short family conversation
Posted at 08:04 PM

background information: 1. my parents went home to angeles to attend a wake. 2. one of my mother's all time favorite dishes is batute, stuffed frog. 3. mother's called ama and daddy-o's apa. if you hear anybody else do this, we're related.

ama: we ate in this restaurant at ang daming pagkain. i ate a lot of kinilaw.

leah: you didn't have frog?

ama: ay oo nga, crab.

me: no, frog.

ama: ah well. it was a buffet, and there was no crab.

me: ma, frog.

dang. talaga naman
Posted at 04:24 PM

have you seen this?
beautiful, isn't it?

a longish excerpt from a story
Posted at 05:48 PM

continuing a fiction piece for class. got stuck somewhere, then decided to make things move, i should bring a character back. this guy named eric. here's an episode from the previous story that involves him. guess what decade this is set in

The four of us were a sight with mascara smeared all over the place, our teased hair tangled into each other. We were in shock. Looking around the hospital it entered our hairsprayed heads that Oliver could have died. The first to speak was Eric. He turned to us smiling and said, “Does this mean you need a drummer?”


Unfortunately we did. It was close to the Battle of the Bands and we needed to get some sort of act together. Rehearsals were 3 hours twice a week and I made good use of the time designing my jean jacket. I had 100 safety pins that I wanted to stick in forming some cool rebellious design. I settled on a swastika and proceeded to decorate. My turn to play was not in the immediate horizon. Before I could even touch my guitar, the drummer and the bassist had to get their act together. So for me the rehearsals were an exercise in fashion design.

For Cyn they were an exercise in agony. Cyn and Eric could never get in the same beat and elevated cacophony, and Cyn’s blood pressure, to new heights.

“Shit Eric! Four-fourths! Didn’t they teach you how to count when you were learning how to drum?”

“I never took lessons,” Eric smirked. “That’s for nerds.”

“Kaya naman pala. Can’t tell four-fourths from a forest.” Then she whispered to me, “Why do you keep him around Gin?”

“Me? You agreed to let him to drum,” I reminded her.

“Shit. That was because I thought he could. He was always carrying those fucking sticks around. Feeling lang pala. Gago.”

Eric heard that and shot back, “Eh ikaw? Bassist? Flat-chested na nga, can’t even follow a beat.”

At that Cyn walked up to him, got one of his drum sticks, held the ends with both hands and cracked it against the stair banister. She threw the pieces at him and walked away.


I had never seen Cyn as tightly wound as she was the night of the competition. “Ok Eric, listen to me,” Cyn sounded like she was talking to a 3 year old. “I’ll adjust to you, ok? You just drum out the basic beat. Don’t worry about me. I will follow your lead. Ok?”

Eric was bobbing his head up and down. “Got it,” he bobbed. “Those guys are great! And their vocalist is hot!” And me pretended to lick his finger and touched it to his thigh while making a sizzling sound.

“Fuck, we’re going to lose,” Cyn declared.

We were backstage at the Battle of the Bands watching this group called Sugar Sucks play. Their vocalist, with green and blue Cyndi Lauper hair, was jumping around and screaming in her leather mini-skirt and fishnets.

“Well, we’re not going to lose to them,” I assured her.

When our turn came, Mike and I came on stage looking as mean as we could. At least I thought Mike looked mean, it was hard to see through all that mascara. Cyn was fretful. Eric came on last holding his sticks above his head and clapping them together.

“ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?” he bellowed into my mic almost giving me a heart attack.

“Yes!” the crowd belllowed back.

‘Then let’s do it!”

And I opened with a screaming chord sequence that would have driven a dog insane. The crowed roared. We were rocking.

Then somewhere in the middle of the song, right after his pet line "like a heart infected with gangrene," Eric went off on a drum solo. For two full minutes. He was really digging it: half-out of his seat, head banging. My head was starting to hurt. At the end of it he crashed the cymbals while shouting “Yeaaaaaaahhhhhhh!” Then silence. And that was effectively the end of our number. The audience looked as bewildered as we (except Eric who was all smiles) did and there was nothing for us but to say “Thank you! Thank you!” and leave.

ADHD
Posted at 01:30 PM

it has a name...

Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder


- often fails to give close attention to details or makes careless mistakes in schoolwork, work, or other activities
- often has difficulty sustaining attention in tasks or play activities
- often does not seem to listen when spoken to directly
- often does not follow through on instructions and fails to finish schoolwork, chores, or duties in the workplace (not due to oppositional behavior or failure to understand instructions)
- often avoids, dislikes, or is reluctant to engage in tasks that require sustained mental effort (such as schoolwork or homework)
- often loses things necessary for tasks or activities (e.g., toys, school assignments, pencils, books, or tools)
- is often easily distracted by extraneous stimuli
- is often forgetful in daily activities


Hyperactivity

- often fidgets with hands or feet or squirms in seat
- often leaves seat in classroom or in other situations in which remaining seated is expected
- often runs about or climbs excessively in situations in which it is inappropriate (in adolescents or adults, may be limited to subjective feelings of restlessness)
- often has difficulty playing or engaging in leisure activities quietly
- is often "on the go" or often acts as if "driven by a motor"
- often talks excessively


Impulsivity

- often blurts out answers before questions have been completed
- often has difficulty awaiting turn

Posted at 09:59 PM

when the night
is spent
all of these lie
bare

all of these
lie restless

it is all
a trap

the chair has
chains
the room has
bars
the pen has
blades

outside are whispers
Run!
run far
run

taking stock
Posted at 06:33 PM

by the end of this semester, i would have:

written 90 pages of original work
read and checked 150 short essays by eng 1 students
read and checked 24 short stories by cw 10 students
read and checked 24 essays by same students
read and checked 24 poems still by the same students
checked 125 exams
read and commented on 40 essays by my non-fic classmates
read and commented on 30 stories by my fiction classmates
read 300 pages of stories and essays for class
written 3 essays for publication
recorded 2 original songs (well, nothing musical from me, just the lyrics of one and the production)
recorded 2 more origs for the december show
put together a tiny broadway and dance show
edited 100 pages of technical manuscripts
...
there's more i can feel it...

in one semester. proof that miracles happen and that they can happen to some ordinary adhd kid just trying to do her job...

and you know what? it was all fun only felt at the end of my rope once or twice there (like tuesday night ahahaha hence that poem). and i'm alive and didn't get dreadfully sick! of course, if i suddenly keel over from a heart attack, this post is a litany of reasons

shiny happy people
Posted at 08:54 PM

when the sun is shining and the B52s bopping 'Roam' on the speakers and people can sing along to their heart's content.

when there's a pint of ben and jerry's 'everything but...' ice cream.

when there's a bag of marshmallows in the backseat.

when tummies ache and eyes are teary from all that laughing.



i say these are the little moments that make life good...

inner space
Posted at 10:52 AM

read a really good book over the weekend - storyteller's daughter by cameron dokey, a retelling of the story of arabian nights, or 1001 nights, or scheherazade. beautiful. while this book has many excellencies - and i certainly recommend you check it out, this post will focus not on the book, but on one line in it that got me nodding in vigorous agreement:

never speak your innermost thoughts aloud. you never know who might be listening.

amen.

i have always been a firm believer in keeping space within for yourself. a space that only you can go to - to breathe, collect yourself, gather everything together, make your messes, kick yourself, pat yourself on the back. a place to speak thoughts that nobody but God can hear. a place where you can be whole.

and in these days when people tend to get so busy, this space is either forgotten or forcibly taken from them. that, i feel, is a violation.

but you, you who happen to be reading this, may you find that space - and when you have it, keep it. your space... where your soul roams free.

random info (since innermost thoughts are not to be spoken)
Posted at 10:33 AM

while some things should not be spoken aloud, some things are so public they become things you take for granted and assume everybody knows. recently though i noticed that there are a couple of comments i get that surprise me though i can understand why.

1. taga-BA ka?
yep, something that i'm sure surprises people because of my total cluelessness when it comes to accounting (plus my total lack of business savvy). how somebody who has never balanced a balance sheet in four years of college is able to graduate with a degree in business ad is proof that truth is stranger than fiction.

2.left handed ka pala?
a comment that probably stems from the fact that i almost never write in longhand anymore. because, as many of you know, my handwriting sucks (stef though has managed to unearth the ideal angle for holding the paper if you want to understand what it is i wrote). if bad penmanship were the only requirement to be a doctor i'd be a world-class heart surgeon by now.

excerpt ulit
Posted at 08:59 AM

continued that high school story, moved them to college. among other things, i tried to deal with a situation that was horribly common for my generation. suicide. here's a portion from the story that brings that in.

That night I was sitting on my bed trying my darnedest best to understand annuities. My teacher made it sound so easy. "Imagine you had 1,000 pesos now," he said then gave a funny little wave. "Ngayon, mag-flashback kayo to 10 years ago. How much money did you have then?"

For some strange reason that explanation didn't help clear things much.

I squinted to focus on the handout. The interest rate for bonds was 10% per annum, maturing on September 19 blah blah blah and I was gone... I couldn't do this. To make things even more difficult, the TV was blaring some sensational piece of national importance.

"Babae sa Navotas, nanganak ng dalag!" This I had to see. I got up from bed, padded to the TV, and there they were: mother and mudfish. I decided this was more interesting than maturing annuities so I hung around the TV long enough to catch the hysterical anchor pronounce:

"Nagbabagang balita! UP student! Nagpakamatay sa campus."

And before they could give any name or circumstance of the death, there it was- Oliver's picture on TV.

sembreak...?
Posted at 10:49 AM

the sem is almost over! yipee!!!! i can see the light at the end of the tunnel. the sun at the edge of the horizon! sembreak...

now i can focus on the december show in peace. truly exciting truly fun to have nothing on my mind except that.

oh wait. there's the writers' kumustahan seminar i have to put together which will run starting oct 23.

ok, so that and then nothing else but the show.

oh wait. there's the supernatural anthology - the stories have been selected, need to get the book going.

ok, so that and the seminar and then nothing else but the show.

oh wait. there's this training venture i have to help get up and running by november.

ok, so that and the book and the seminar and then nothing else but the show.

oh wait. there's the comic book that's been waiting for so long to get out.

ok, so that and the venture and the book and the seminar...

damn.

a sort of show review
Posted at 07:58 PM

"so why do you watch ballet again?"

it was a question i well deserved especially after my frantic search for a souvenir program because i confessed that without it, i might not know what's going on in the story,

my dance vocabulary is still quite limited (though expanding ) and most of the time my comments go: "the girl who played so and so is a bit clunky." or "you do that turn thingy really well!" shameful i know - but i will get the terms right. i am working on it

but despite my lack of nouns, i know that dance is beautiful to watch and what is ballet after all if not a narrative told in another medium. a story, when told well, is always worth the reading always worth the watching, regardless of what is sacrificed to take the narrative in.

well, at least that's how i feel about things

and so in that spirit i watched philippine ballet theater's 'madame butterfly' last night at the ccp. caught opening night which again was awash with nuns.

it was a good show... (will run until this sunday. hehe. plug)

i do realize that i am used to written fiction and so i have to grapple with the conventions of other media. but there were scenes in this ballet that worked and worked so well i was very much taken in with the story. i think a narrative is elevated when the audience is moved despite the fact they know what's going to happen next. and that's what happens here.

it's always an amazing experience when i feel my narrative world expand. so bianx, thanks for introducing me to the world of ballet. and joanna (who is part of this production), thanks for opening it up

unanswerable
Posted at 08:31 PM

robert told me the other day that during a writing workshop he attended, one of the country's leading psychologists was a guest speaker and asked them

where do you go, away from writing, to become a better writer?

good question. how to be consumed with without being consumed by.

in my case, this is very close to another question that somebody (i forget who) asked me fairly recently. i was asked: if i had to give up one thing, which would it be? production or writing?

wow.

my answer is: but for me they're the same thing.

consumed with both to be consumed by neither.

a long perturbation
Posted at 08:07 AM

for the first time in a loooong time i got to see a movie last night - 'the company' starring neve campbell directed by robert altman.

until now i feel this vague sense of perturbation all around me. since the movie ended last night, through my dreams, to this morning... perturbed.

it was typical of the robert altman films i've seen, though i can't really put my finger on a tangible quality why. there's his mark of not isolating conversations - to have all the sounds running at the same time. the absence of a clear graphable plot. like the story just flows along...

i think one thing that bothered me was that when he depicted the lives of the dancers, their own lives were so lacking in beauty it made the portrayal of beauty on the stage disturbing. nowhere in this movie did i see the image of the artist i like to keep -that of somebody driven by passion. these were people trying to make a living, concerned about their billing in the show, and leading rather unremarkable lives offstage.

altman does turns things around i've noticed. here's part of the lyrics of the theme song of what was probably his most popular movie, M*A*S*H. this one was a funny movie set in a mobile military hospital. the title of the song is 'suicide is painless.'

Through early morning fog I see
Visions of the things to be
The pains that are withheld for me
I realize and I can see
that

(chorus)
Suicide is Painless
It brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please

Try to find a way to make
All our little joys relate
Without that ever present hate
But now I know that it's too late
(chorus)

The game of life is hard to play
I'm going to lose it anyway
The losing card I'll someday lay
So this is all I have to say
(chorus)

A brave man once requested me
To answer questions that are key
Is it to be or not to be
And I replied "Oh why ask me."
Cause (chorus)

yep, in a funny movie.

i still can't put my finger on it, but altman's use of irony does leave me very unsettled. which i know is a quality of a good storyteller. but still, i don't think i'll be too cool about being unsettled the whole day.

high school math
Posted at 10:41 AM

there's this risk calculator that says that if you smoked for 14 years and consumed an average of a pack and a half a day, then you've lost 1171 days just from that.

that's 3.2 years.

when you're in high school and you count back - and you think: "ok, say the average life span is 75, i lose 3.2 years, that's 71.8 years old that i'll die. ok lang yan." because you're 16 and 55 years from that is more than you can fathom.

of course you get a little older and you realize your logic was faulty. it's not just the cigarettes that will kill you. there's the pollution and the food and other things - so it's not 75 years you should be deducting from. maybe 71. then you think you'll live to 68. that's still not so bad.

besides life's a bitch anyway right and who wants to make it that long.

but then there are good moments - and the more of life you live the more of the good moments you have and the more wonderful life becomes, even if it is a bitch sometimes.

you realize this when 40 is in sight and by that time it hits you that you've got less than halfway to go.

suddenly those 1171 days seem damned important.

ako din! the tarot card quiz...
Posted at 10:52 AM

what a fun card!


You are the Tower card. The Tower represents a
sudden, drastic change. This change can be
incredibly freeing. It can be a change in the
way you think, or a change in environment. The
physical body may be healed of a long illness
in a seemingly miraculous way. Dramatic change
may lead you into a completely different career
or lifestyle. On the negative side of things,
you may suddenly lose your fortune or have an
experience that shatters your sense of
identity. The Tower that crumbles under the
lightning bolt is the physical and may be
indicative of some aspect of your physical
world. But as the Tower crumbles it reveals a
sturdier foundation, something which perhaps
you did not expect but which, nevertheless,
arrives fully formed and strong into your life.
Image from: The Ibis Tarot deck
http://www.astroamerica.com/t-ibis.html


Which Tarot Card Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

lyrics ulit. lss and all...
Posted at 12:24 AM

because i can't sleep. and because i was immersed in college memories today. and because i just listened to this song. and because i feel like playing dj... here's a favorite from one of my favorite artists.

Absolute Beginners by David Bowie

I've nothing much to offer
There's nothing much to take
I'm an absolute beginner
And I'm absolutely sane
As long as we're together
The rest can go to hell
I absolutely love you
But we're absolute beginners
With eyes completely open
But nervous all the same

If our love song
Could fly over mountains
Could laugh at the ocean
Just like the films
There's no reason
To feel all the hard times
To lay down the hard lines
It's absolutely true

Nothing much could happen
Nothing we can't shake
Oh we're absolute beginners
With nothing much at stake
As long as you're still smiling
There's nothing more I need
I absolutely love you
But we're absolute beginners
But if my love is your love
We're certain to succeed

warm fried chicken just doesn't do it
Posted at 03:55 PM

my tuesday-friday sked is a bit weird. i have class at 830 until 10 then 1130 to 1. i can't wake up early everyday - and since mon-thur i start at 7, that's punishment enough. so i usually get up very slowly around 7:45 on tue-fri (thanking God that i live 5 minutes from school) and skip breakfast... i eat between classes and i realize what a privilege it is to be able to go home, hand over a can of corned beef to a cook who'll mix that up with a couple of potatoes to tide me over til 1pm when i can grab a late lunch.

sometimes though i've got a meeting or whatever at 1 and there goes lunch. like today, had to consult with my phd adviser about what classes to take next sem. so after everything, at around 3 i trot to mcdonald's to get spaghetti and chicken. i come home ready to hunker down. feel the chicken first. warm. sigh.

i get up, put the chicken on a plate and dump it in the freezer to get it nice and cold eat the spaghetti and get online to check my mail. kill a little more time by posting this and hopefully by the time i'm done, the chicken will be just right

wisdom tooth (now there's an ironic term)
Posted at 11:32 AM

my dentist tricked me.

i had a molar that chipped and went to have it fixed. she said nothing was wrong. i know why she did that - so i'd feel pain. maybe i'd feel so much pain i'd finally go and get rid of that wisdom tooth that's been breaking into the molar causing the pain.

her plan worked. i have a wily dentist. isn't that a frightening thought?

a few will remember that i've been meaning to get this wisdom tooth extracted for over a year now... but, well, never got around to doing it. yes, i know that the damage just gets worse the longer i put it off. yes, i know that i subjected myself to unnecessary suffering by keeping that tooth in. but geez, getting it out necessitates a process involving hammers and chisels. caught between the devil and the deep blue sea

but now i will finally get it done, thanks to my scheming dentist.

in a couple of weeks i will subject myself to oral surgery. i will allow them to put in a brace so i won't be able to close my mouth for 2 hours. i will let them slice into my mouth, hammer and saw and pull and tug and stitch.

the good news is that i hear there's a special sort of sedation i can avail of. i wonder if it involves demerol

this time last year
Posted at 12:37 AM

planed in at around 6am and spent the rest of the morning sleeping (0 sleep in 15 hours of travel. watched every movie on the plane). woke up to see the sights and discovered that wonderful italian habit of starting their working hours late with 2- or 3-hour lunchbreaks. finally started going around at 4pm.

this was taken on that first day. it had to be the colosseo first. what else. and this particular spot - at times i can feel it down to the last sensation. the colosseo behind, the forum to the left, the markets up ahead to the right, and straight ahead, the altar of the nation.

in hand is a bottle of water. a P70 peso bottle of water. the most expensive liquid there. wine was cheaper, and so was coffee. but being a water person, i spent most of my pocket money on that. there were fountains and faucets along the streets though where pretty much everybody else drank from. they said the water flowed from aqueducts that were built around caesar's time. with that knowledge i felt more comfortable spending a small fortune on bottled water figuring that would, in the end, be cheaper than going down with amoebiasis.

my first sight of the colosseo is something i will never forget. seeing it framed by the door of the metro station from the top of the escalator. and while inside, seeing the dark birds hovering above - they were not in any other part of the italian sky i saw, just above the colosseo.

up ahead is a bus. price - 12 euro for a week, ride all you want on the metro or on the buses (i still have my pass in my wallet ). few seats on that bus, but they were quiet, exhaust-free and fairly efficient. of course those cobblestone streets were hell on a full bladder

the past few days i've been wondering... will i ever find myself on that street again? well, i never expected to find myself on that street at all - so i guess a next time isn't all that impossible

options
Posted at 09:47 PM

so here are the choices for tonight:

a) sleep now and get up a little past midnight and then work. got class 7-10, so just keep going as long as the body can take it.

b) keep on going and sleep later on in the morning.

c) sleep now, get up at around midnight, then sleep again at 3 then get up at 5 and then keep going.

these three definitely require that 1) my body can keep up; and 2) i actually have the talent to pull off the revisions (which, every time i stare at my screen and force the words out, seems doubtful).

then there's option d: don't revise and hope the teacher doesn't notice