the deity of manila

WOYD?

2011-07-15T10:19:00.000-07:00

1. Keychains. Officemates give souvenirs from their trips out of town/country. See the Baguio weenie? Hihi.

2. GPOYeveryday

3. UAAP Tumblers. UP, DLSU, ADMU, UST. (condom and lubes storage jk)

4. Oona the stress releaser oink

5. Umm...shades?

6. Anik-anik section. Crayons, toothbrush, jejepens, collected dust.

7. Popo the Beary bank. Beside him is a space shuttle massager from Grace. (She's leaving for good next week =()

8. A Reader's Guide to Contemporary Literary Theory. It's always under my hand, literally.

9. Books of the Week/Day/Month. Mostly chick and pop lits.

10. Tissue, shower gel, lip gloss. Wait, that does not sound nice.

Today

2011-05-05T03:23:00.000-07:00

I'm killing the pleasure of writing

and the labor of thinking long hours

just to say something original

since these things don't matter

in a corporate sweatshop of linguistic crap

what actually your masters need

are exceptional skills in

hunting for wonderful photos you

did not even take

rewording a whole article

and pretending it's yours

and most especially

hitting your quota

oh yes that artful quota

I was not obnoxious and jaded in senior high

2011-05-02T10:55:00.001-07:00

since catholic school boys were taught to see the world with salivating eyes and imagine college as a land of fashionable men and women who study hard join fraternities eat at the mall and fuck one another once in a while in senior high there was hope about the future like growing long hair puffing a cigar without anyone reprimanding attending a class late missing a class pretending to attend a class In senior high I was not angsty I was in love with the world I was looking forward to meet a guy yes a guy just any cute guy who would look at me touch me kiss me tell me sweet tales undress me eat me love me control me yes control me until he would get tired of me and look for another one and let me go and leave me crying so I myself would also learn what's love and then love again and find another one to touch kiss flirt undress eat love control oh in senior high i was not lonely becky i was not sad cohn i was a happy idiot manipulated by catholic brainwashed teacher bitches preaching that the world would be nice that you would have a home a car a family a phone in an instant without knowing the sufferings of the poor and the hungry and the entire cycle of triangles that keep the world hazy gray dirty and semen soaked like a ghost world well in fact worse than a ghost world

I'm the Prince of York, Cubao

2011-04-29T15:20:00.001-07:00

Physics

2011-04-29T11:17:00.001-07:00

I have just finished Watchmen the comic book, assigned as a required reading in my pop lit class eons ago but I didn't bother to read. It was a pleasure actually, considering the efforts of the comic writer (Alan Moore) and artist (David Gibbons)(411 pages!) What sets this book apart is that its heroes are a bunch of loonies and psychopaths.

This week I also bumped into an article on the most baffling superheroes around the world wherein two out of six came from the Philippines: Flash Bomba, Mars Ravelo's paraplegic tikbalang-killer; and Zsa Zsa Zaturnnah, Carlo Vergara's non-flying, tranny Darna.

Still, my loyalty remains to Superman since he's, like, Super. Duh. He does not even deserve membership to the Justice League since he can do everything his colleagues can. With one hand.

This letter

2011-04-26T11:12:00.000-07:00

is filed in the folder of prayers of vanity, wherein you, no doubt, have put hundreds of requests, thanks to your parents who gave you the worst of the genes. There is, for instance, a request for white, porcelain, glowingly flawless skin, since yours is oilier than the cheapest margarine and has been programmed with acne and a suite of allergies. One day, after watching a Colgate commercial of some handsome guy, you also clipped that wish for a killer smile and better set of teeth, since yours are chipped and easily turn yellow. But to save ourselves time, let us just enumerate all the major requests: larger, round eyes (light brown), normal vision (20/20), thicker hair, sexier masculine voice, additional 10 inches in height, additional inches in length and width (bird), non-hairiness, bigger arms, pinkish-white feet, longer fingers, six-pack abdominals, to become American (2001), Taiwanese (2003), Korean (2008), etc.

We regret to inform you that all your requests since 1995 have been rejected. According to the book of fate, you've been irreversibly bestowed all the potentials to become a middle-class educated professional who looks like a smelly foot. This was done so you can tell the world the beauty of being a middle-class educated professional who looks like a smelly foot. And please, don't be zealously envious of male models in fashion magazines. They make a living by wearing clothes, while you do so by thinking. It's not that bad.

We hope you understand.

External Division

Institute of Beauty

Prayer Avenue corner Love Street

3rd Heaven, Heaven, 7777

Twenty Five

2011-04-24T01:55:00.001-07:00

starts

when

insecurity

runs into

your bedroom

door. It comes in

the form of

serpents,

their faces

bearing those

of your

friends.

"Seniors,"

they hiss

like in a choir,

batting their

lashes and

shaking their

fork tongues.

"We are

seniors now".

Promptly you

draw the pistol

from the

bedside table,

lick the barrel,

and aim at their

mouths. Then

one by one,

the slithering

fades, followed

by the smoky

revelation

of blood

and brains.

"Tomorrow,"

you say.

"I'll clean you up."

You turn off

the lamp, take

off the

sheet, and

plunge into

dreams,

hoping to

find a

chamber

made of

crisp

dollar

bills.

Dear Ate Charo,

2011-04-21T06:07:00.000-07:00

I'm writing you a letter because I'm a subaltern. Yes, we subalterns don't speak, but we can write. You see, I strongly feel that I'm interpellated by societal forces (ideological state apparashits, you call them but the term's dated) to consumerist (or capitalist, again, dated) tendencies.

Anyhow, maybe my position can elucidate the problematique of my story. I am a single, male, queer (sexuality is fluid), Catholic, higher lower class individual working as a blogger (or writer, for orthodox journalists) in one of the offices at The Fort. You may say that the circles I'm in is not bad at all, since I'm in the center geographically (Manila), spiritually (Catholic), academically (UP).

But that's not the point. My apologies if this letter is full of digressions, Ate Charo, because my writing self is abnormally separated from my speaking self. Is this heteroglossia? Or perhaps a type of Jungian neurosis? I don't know Ate Charo, I think you're annoyed with the switches of my linguistic codes by now. Perhaps I'm just afraid of Grandma Orly's belatedness syndrome. Help me to write myself, Ate Charo, because I'm attempting to come up with an epistolary poem.

Academe Nostalgia

2011-04-19T12:09:00.000-07:00

Holy Week's a time to contemplate about life. Since people are bored to death and showing off their brain libraries on Facebook, I've remembered bumping into a Bachelor's in Creative Writing reading checklist for UP eons ago and decided to measure how much I've read in this messy Philippine literary canon.

Fiction

(Novels and Short Stories)
~~Javellana, Stevan - Without Seeing the Dawn (novel)~~ read, unfinished
~~Joaquin, Nick - The Woman Who Had Two Navels (novel)~~
Santos, Bienvenido - The Man Who (Thought He) Looked Like Robert Taylor (novel)
Gonzales, NVM - A Season of Grace (novel)

~~Joaquin, Nick - Choose 3 stories from either~~
~~Prose and Poems~~
~~Tropical Gothic~~

~~Santos, Bienvenido - 3 stories from You Lovely People or The Day the Dancers Came or Brother My Brother~~
~~Gonzalez, NVM - 3 stories from Bread of Salt or Look Stranger on this Island Now or Children of the Ash-Colored Loam~~
~~Arcellana, Francisco - 5 stories from The Francisco Arcellana Sampler~~
~~Alfon, Estrella - 3 short stories from Magnificence or Stories~~
~~Jose, F. Sionil - 3 short stories from Waywaya or Platinum~~
~~Benitez, Paz Marquez - 2 stories~~
~~Sulit, Loreto Paras - 2 stories~~
~~Latorena, Paz - 2 stories~~
~~Arguilla, Manuel - 4 short stories from How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife~~
~~Tiempo, Edith - Blade of Fern (novel)~~read, unfinished
~~Polotan, Kerima - The Hand of the Enemy (novel)~~
~~Bulosan, Carlos - America is in the Heart (autobiography/novel)~~ read, unfinished
~~Brillantes, Gregorio - 5 short stories from The Distance to Andromeda and the Apollo Centennial~~
~~Fernando, Gilda Cordero - 5 short stories from Butcher, Baker, Candlestick Maker or A Wilderness of Sweets (both books are re-issued as Story Collection)~~
~~Polotan, Kerima - 3 stories from Stories~~
~~Rosa, Ninotchka - 3 stories from Bitter Country or Monsoon Collection~~
Hidalgo, Cristina - 3 stories from either
Ballad of a Lost Season
Tales for a Rainy Night
Where Only the Moon Rages
~~Rosca, Ninotchka - State of War (novel)~~read, unfinished
Yuson, Alfred - The Great Philippine Jungle Energy Cafe (novel)
Castillo, Erwin - The Firewalkers (both the nouvella and the stories included in this book)
Hidalgo, Cristina - Recuerdo (novel)
~~Dalisay, Jose V. - Killing Time in a Warm Place (novel)~~
Gamalinda, Eric - Confessions of a Volcano (novel)
~~Dalisay, Jose - 3 stories from Old Timer or Sarcophagus or Penmanship~~
~~Gamalinda, Eric - 3 stories from Peripheral Visions~~
Ong, Charlson - 5 stories from Men of the East or Woman of Amkaw or Conversion

Enriquez, Antonio - 3 stories from Spots On Their Wings or The Night I Cry
~~Casper, Lindy Ty - 3 stories from Common Continent or Hazards of Distance~~
Dayrit, Joy - 3 stories from The Walk

2 stories each from the following writers - 10 stories total
~~Rotor, Arturo - The Wound and the Scar or The Men Who Play God~~
~~Tiempo, Edith - Abide, Joshua~~
~~Ford, Aida Rivera - The Chiefest Mourner~~
Ayala, Tita Lacambra - Pieces of String
Torrevillas, Rowena Tiempo - Among the Willows

Not part of the original reading list, but Manuel decided to put it in anyway:
Sitoy, Lakambini - Mens Rea and Other Stories

Essays and Non-Fiction Narratives

2 selections each by 10 of these writers - 20 essays total
~~Lopez, S.P. - Literature and Society~~
Icasiano, F.B. - Horizons From My Nipa Hut
Cristobal, Adrian - Pasquinades
Ventura, Sylvia - Ragtime in Kamuning
de Quiros, Conrad - Flowers from the Rubble or Dance of the Dunces
~~Nakpil, Carmen Guerrero - Woman Enough or A Question of Identity~~
~~Polotan, Kerima - Author's Choice or Adventures in a Forgotten Country~~
~~Mayuga, Sylvia - Spy In My Own Country or Essays For A Decade~~
~~Zafra, Jessica - Twisted or Womanagerie or Twisted Too~~
Dalisay, Jose Y. - The Best of Barfly

Hidalgo, Cristina
I Remember
Five Years in a Forgotten Land
Skyscrapers Celadon and Kimchi
The Path of the Heart

Garcellano, Rosario - Mean Streets

Ocampo, Ambeth
Bonifacio's Bolo
Aguinaldo's Breakfast
Mabini's Ghost

Abad, Gemino - State of Play

Drama

~~Joaquin, Nick - Portrait of the Artist As Filipino~~

One of the following plays:
~~Guerrero, Wilfrido Ma. - Condemned; Wanted A Chaperone~~
~~Alfon, Estrella - Forever Witches~~
Juan, Anton - Death in the Form of a Rose
Florentino, Alberto - The World is an Apple
Nolledo, Wilfredo - Turn Red The Sea

Poetry

Three poems by each poet - a total of 153 poems
~~Glora, Angela Manalang~~
~~Tarrosa-Subido, Trinidad~~
~~Zulueta da Costa, Rafael~~
~~Villa, Jose Garcia~~
~~Santos, Bienvenido~~
~~Daguio, Amador~~
~~de Zuñiga, Oscar~~
~~Ilio, Dominador~~
~~Arcellana, Francisco~~
~~Viray, Manuel~~
~~Joaquin, Nick~~
~~Tiempo, Edith~~
~~Demetillo, Ricaredo~~
~~Angeles, Carlos~~
~~Moreno, Virginia~~
~~Hufana, Alejandrino~~
~~Francia, Hilario~~
~~Ayala, Tita Lacambra~~
~~Lumbera, Bienvenido~~
~~Torres, Emmanuel~~
~~Dimalanta, Ophelia~~
~~Tinio, Rolando~~
~~San Juan, Epiphanio~~
~~Guillermo, Gelacio~~
~~Espinao, Federico Licsi~~
~~Abad, Gemino H.~~
~~Bautista, Cirilo F.~~
~~Cabalquinto, Luis~~
~~Pena-Reyes, Myrna~~
~~Alunan, Merlie~~
Lanot, Marra
Yuson, Alfred
Lacaba, Jose,
Francia, Luis
An Lim, Jaime
Garcellano, Edel
Salanga, Alfrredo Salanga
Lacaba, Emmanuel
Torrevillas, Rowena
de Ungria, Ricardo
Kilates, Marne
Sunico, Ramon
Evasco, Marjorie
Banzon, Isabella
Cortes, Fidelito
Gamalinda, Eric
Arcellano, Juaniyo
Lim, Fatima
Aguilar-Carino, Maria Luisa
Remoto, Danton
Garcia, J. Neil

Loser

2011-04-18T11:17:00.000-07:00

refers to grade-conscious freaks. They don't miss their assignments, have a year's supply of quiz pads (1/4, 1/2, 1 whole), and hate Physical Education classes. They're the reversals of boys who bring beer and girls who breathe make-up. Too afraid to retaliate to tirades and insults, they believe that walking into the guidance counselor's office will be the end of life.

"They're just good in memorization," said the teacher who identifies herself as cool. "They ace their exams, but they won't succeed in life."

"The real champions are those who know diskarte."

And perhaps she's right. Maybe they're plain losers with above-average memory skills. Because after two decades of study, you still can't define what that word means. You're hopelessly hunting for and enjoying pieces of reaffirmations, wishing that one day, you suddenly bump into a street sign, leading you to a landscape of nipa hut beside a rice field, in front of a mountain, below the yellow smiling sun.

Third World Ninja

2011-04-18T00:19:00.000-07:00

Siopao

2011-04-13T07:07:00.000-07:00

Becomes your brain after kneading a dough of words on the board of memory. "Cook four," says the chef who busies himself with culinary calculus. You promptly roll each slice into a ball and fuck it with egg and semantic filling, making sure that no customer will say it tastes like manila paper. You gather the sides, pinch them together, and twist. The chef begins to snore. You place the rolls in the steamer. Whistle and wait until the froth from his mouth rises. Once he does, switch off the stove and let the dreams subside. Put the buns in the plate and serve. Estimated time is 12 hours. Get a free bag of flour for overtime pay.

Block

2011-04-12T12:14:00.000-07:00

Tonight I'm writing you a poem made of a paragraph. A paragraph because, among other things, lines and stanzas speak of lyrical realities, and my life does not have those. It is an ugly chop of wood with itchy fibers and rotten worms. You see, even my metaphors fail effortlessly. Because five years from now, when I'm a 30 year-old semi-bald swine with yellow teeth, I want to remember this night when my fears only revolve around the allergy on my face, the credit card debt, and losing weight. Gripping the cock of time from point B to point A is a consolation prize. Tonight, maybe there's happiness I refuse to see. Perhaps life is much better.

What's In Your Bag?

2011-01-02T07:12:00.000-08:00

I feel naked whenever I go out bag-less. It's like you're facing the world not ready with the hassles that may come your way. Hence I'm starting the year exposing the weaponry that allows me to somersault, smile, and say f*ck off to problems.

1. Blair, the SE w595. The best phone I ever got.

2. Lily, the D3000. I'm still shy showing them to people 'cause I'm a lame newbie.

3. Check wallet from Topman. It stores a dozen of cards, 100 pesos, ID's, and two Frenzy condoms. LOL

4. Nivea Lipgloss. My (French) kisses taste like sweet melons.

5. 2010 SB Planner, which has just been replaced by the Witty 2011 planner. Bearer of budget projections, escapades, tough secrets, FLAMES tests, drawings of my ugly enemies.

6. Umbra the Automatic Umbrella. So I can always spare a cute guy from getting wet.

7. Contact lens dish. So my eyes won't hurt during occasional sleepovers.

8. BARE perfume from F&H. I spray fifty times a day so buying pricey perfumes is impractical, if not salary depleting.

9. Clean & Clear Oil Film and SPF 50. Solutions to my oily face curse.

10. BENCH FIX styling gel. I use it when my hair is short.

11. Assorted pens. I love writing on immaculate white bus seat covers.

12. Doraemon bag padlock. I'm so afraid of lumpens and high-class magnas.

13. USB. So I can trade songs and porn clips effortlessly.

14. Apple USB chord. Hmm. 100+ cute points from Apple user-friends

15. Kleenex. To wipe sweat, dirt, and _____. LOL

16. Eyeglasses of the season. This time it's a fake Ray Ban wayfarers from ' las banchettas'.

17. Blaine, the iPod Nano. The best transport/gym companion.

18. Dean, the HP mini. The most important item I always bring. It's as cute and as versatile as me!

Maybe R's

2010-12-31T10:38:00.000-08:00

1. Maybe some High Street jogging

2. Maybe less ~~fast~~ food

3. Maybe more films and books

4. Maybe swimming

5. Maybe badminton

6. Maybe flying

7. Maybe going back

8. Maybe more clothes

9. Maybe more shoes

10. Maybe more parties

11. Maybe a new hobby

12. Maybe a better room. Burning fragrant candles, nicest bed sheets, peace of mind before and after dreaming.

Malayo Sa Bituka Yan 2011 Planner

2010-12-28T09:13:00.000-08:00

I ditched my 4-holiday-coffee-cups-na-lang-may-planner-ka-na sticker card in exchange of this down-to-earth, pop-culturish, supercooljologs planner. =)

2011, shine brightly on me.

My 2010

2010-12-28T07:37:00.000-08:00

January

I enrolled in the gym. Fresh start. But I failed around July. Sob.

February

I turned 24! And I went to Bangkok. Yeey.

March

'Jejemon' was coined in the academe. It spread on Facebook like crazy.

April

Election fever. I went gaga over Adel Tamano. So cute <3.

May

His name is Dean.

June

Kristina got married

I watched Legally Blonde

July

Lindsay Lohan was sent to jail. I was devastated.

August

Went back to Malate after years of inactivity

I hated Noynoy when Ninoy Day was made working holiday

Manila Hostage Crisis, Venus Raj, and these jejemons

September

UP Pep's sunflowers killed the Japanese zombies

October

I met Lily.

Dressed up like an idiot

November

Darren Criss came into my life <3

Temptation Island Remake confirmed

December

Still fucking gorgeous as usual.

This Is My Superficial Christmas List

2010-12-19T06:28:00.000-08:00

Mirror

2010-09-24T11:17:00.000-07:00

Chaos

2010-09-18T10:37:00.000-07:00

is a saturday night fucked up party in the mind. the wallet is sad and empty, obscuring all visions of gallivanting. porn and masturbating have become overrated. the fridge is empty of food, and weekend primetime television is worse than rotten McDonalds fries. i hate this sickness, said the boyfriend over the phone, attempting to do a litmus paper test on your love. then turn off the TV and sleep, you replied, thinking of another day that went down the drain. on the other tab, behind the blogger page, there is a news about a boy who stabbed his teacher for being asked to get a haircut. shocking, you thought with cliche, popping out a plan to compose an affective poem on it. there are, however, so many pages about hot guys and sex, and the seed of creative longing shrunk in no time. facebook has turned into another fridge. you keep on opening it every minute, wishing that there's a tupperware of food somewhere that you didn't notice before. then the words disappear. the air hints at the imminent december, invoking how your 24th year was spent with nothingness. the rat race is on, and you're not aware if you're on the tracks or sitting on the bleachers. the metaphysics of it all sucks, especially when you only hope to get laid with someone with a nice grin and some abs. or to get laid with the boyfriend once he develops a nicer grin and gain some abs. beside you is slap of the moral self: how dare you, shallow slut, it said, unleashing another slap on the other side.

Material Boy

2010-09-13T12:29:00.000-07:00

Maybe a new pair of prescription eyeglasses

Maybe a jump into the DSLR bandwagon

Maybe some shirts

Some shoes

A Beanie

Maybe A Gym Comeback

A Vacation Leave

Some Pampering

Some Pressing
Some Mind Sex

Maybe Some Reason To Go On and Kick Ass,

A Few Challenges Here, Some Rewards There

'Til The Third World Looks Nothing Like

Squalor At All

UP Fight

2010-09-11T17:02:00.000-07:00

The festival of stunts and pyramids will take place in a few hours.

I'm seeing it live this year. Whoopee.

The Claudine Barretto Fan Boy Post

2010-08-31T16:23:00.000-07:00

It's not about Angelica P. It's about ABS-CBN attempting

to destroy the optimum stardom it created in Claudine B.

I don't normally express my devotion to a star, but as a Gen Y

I was reared seeing Claudine as my Vilma S and Judy Ann as Nora A.

This perfectly explains why I love her so much:

These Are The Cusses

2010-08-21T12:24:00.000-07:00

These are the cusses

splashing onto your face

for smiling back at the winks

of Manila lifestyle magazines.

These are the assholes

for hours wasted staring at

the leather shoes, the skinny pants,

the caps, the luminous sheen of

high-res photographs.

These are the tarantados

for hopping into the cars of the cool,

for touching the frames of the party pages,

the captions, the lights, and the mugs who rule.

These are your well-deserved gagos.

They are inside a box wrapped in ululs, so the

next time you talk to your payroll ATM,

you can see it can't spit words from Zara and H&M.

And don't forget these pretty putanginamos.

wear them whenever you feel climbing the ladder,

singing the anthem, and seating on the toilet.

Your shit may be brown, hard, and sticky, but

it'll still look like a cake in a box of glittery.

Inception

2010-08-20T11:11:00.000-07:00

Inside a room full of people, all lips are sealed, the hands restlessly tapping keys to establish a fragment of work. One corner has a window half-covered, the midday light coming in as if echoing a boy who said, I want to work in a spaceship. He munched the chocolate bar and craved for more lego blocks, seeing a new set of wings and some planetary labs. But you can be a doctor, the mother said, holding a pen and staring at the calculator. Or a lawyer, she added, smiling at her reflection on the psychedelic screen. Outside the house, on the surface of a frame, a man wanders in the streets, hunting for words to be sewn. He stops by an edifice and sees one window half-covered, laughing and thinking about a room of silly people. The park is bare and full of umbrellas. He sees words on a bench and picks them. Sees them pasted on the posts and unpasted them. There are some on the trash bin, the pavement, the roads.

The Kwek-Kwek Poem

2010-08-18T14:14:00.000-07:00

For Jose Garcia Villa

The kwek-kweks are being fried,

They are like little balls to the kiat-kiat tree.

(A man has only two balls,

There are many balls in a kiat-kiat tree.)

Soon the kwek-kweks will turn orange and yummy:

I shall pick up two...three…or many…

Like a modest girl (or boy¹), I shall first lick their skin,

I shall lick them before eating (the egg of) the Bird:

I shall be reminded of a bunch of boys.

---------------------------------------------

I shall kiss kwek-kweks because they are the balls of a boy.

In UP they say we are postmodernists now, sir, and are free to write about our Jacks and Davids—without suspension.

I will rant

2010-07-14T11:54:00.000-07:00

I noticed that my blog entries this year revolve around my efforts of losing weight, and after 7 months of ranting that dream is still an unfulfilled wish. In January, my weight was 150 lbs, and the last time I checked it was 148. God, that's just like, 2 cups of rice subtracted.

I tried out this GM diet wherein you're supposed to eat a certain food group per day. Day 1 all fruits, Day 2 all veggies, Day 3 a mix, and so on. I was only successful on the first day. Tuesday I asked BB to munch on oil and grease and fats with me @ Jollibee. Diet fail, I know.

I know I'm not trying enough though. It's so hard to let go of those pleasurable tastes. In the following weeks, I think I will be able to. I'm crossing fingers.

One thing I love about Fort Bonifacio is its chichiness. Emerging relaxation places of the well-off abound in the area. Lately BB and I have become addicted to frozen yogurt. I discovered this resto called Yogurt Nation, which is like, a block away from my building.

Here's my dirty design. Haha. It's a DIY kind of store, and a bit pricey. This one was charged around 300 bucks I think. Taste-wise, it's a less sour than White Hat, and a less sweet version of Tutti Frutti. I think this Froyo fad is not worth it though. I will not exchange any pricey, so-called healthy yogurt to the humble Jollibee sundae or Mc Flurry.

Last weekend, I, Mikee and Sig went to Trinoma. We watched Eclipse and I introduced them to BB. I was very elated. Going out with high school friends just to chill out had become very rare, and I so missed all the stories, fun, and tsismis.

Mikee and the humongous pizza. He ate 1/3 of it i think, and look at his figure. Lucky metabolistic bitch.

One good news about work is that the HR already declared my paperless regularization, and my privilege to have 12 days of leave. Yeehaw. I will definitely fly abroad before the year ends.

How Are You?

2010-06-27T12:06:00.000-07:00

Since it's nearly a month since my last blog post, let's make it easy through bullets and snippets:

June 13: Kristina's Wedding. The venue was nice. San Agustin Church in Intramuros, and a reception hall called Concepcion. Caught up with high school barkada, who I believe are few of my true, real friends.

Ang taba, taba, taba, ko.

June 18: UP DECL Day. Tech invited me to attend the 100th foundation day of ehem, ehem UP Department of English and Comparative Literature. Saw some of my fave professors, including Sir Butch D(CL 111), Mam Odine D (CL 154, 147), and my so-called Mom, Mam Preachy L (CL 183, 199, 200).

I love Mam O. She taught me to always speak with sense.

(L-R Tech the Beauty Contestant, Jaemie, Moi, Razeru in black laces)

June 26: Yay! It's the Legally Blonde Day @ the Meralco Theater.

I love Laura Bell Bundy. SHE IS THE ELLE WOODS. I just don't get it why people keep on lambasting the MANILA VERSION of LEGALLY BLONDE. The show was amazing. Yeah, there were no automatically appearing/disappearing Delta Nu house, staircase, mall, Harvard, prison, etc, but the set was designed as innovatively as possible. There was this circular window that indicated the place they're in (Palm trees if in California, cells if in prison, window glass if in Pollette's salon), and I think that was nice.

Laura Bell's interpretation of Elle Woods was incomparable. But I think Nikki Gil tried hard to be at par with how Laura did. "So Much Better" was sung with restraint and passion, and so were "Chip on My Shoulder," "What You Want," and "Legally Blonde Reprise".

Nyoy's voice was beautiful as always, and I believe critics don't like him more because of his lack of chemistry with Nikki than his performance. Guji was a tame version of Warner. He did not come as naughty and as bonehead of the Broadway actor. Cris Villonco as Vivian was good. She spoke with about 90% American accent throughout the show.

Geneva was hot, and definitely she gave justice to Brooke's character. "Whipped Into Shaped" was sung in a sexy, raspy voice. If they hired Gretchen Barretto as planned the performance would suck.

Jinky Lamanzares as Pollette rocked. She was not as super-energetic and loud as the Broadway Pollette but she was funny nevertheless. Her Kyle, Calvin Millado, was okay. He did not look sexy. He was more of a chub! Jett Pangan looked as evil as Broadway's Callahan, and I think his performance was one of the show's best highlights.

The Delta Nu girls were excellent. They just have to be careful with their wireless mikes! OMG they rocked!

I'm not a stylist, but the I think the costumes were acceptable, and not as cheap as how detractors describe them. The clothes actually were very faithful to those shown in the Broadway. I think those criticizing fags were just being bitter, colonial, orthodox, etc. God, it's like they're expecting clothes from Prada or LV or something.

Okay, the post has become a review. Haha. Sorry. Can't get over the Mania!

Omigod you guys! I'll watch this again, I promise!

PS, OINK mode:

Since I was more than blissful in watching the play, my heart did not avoid to pig out. Bob and I drove to Mall of Asia and ate at Yellow Cab. We had all these, just for the two of us.

And after this I have to whip it, whip it, whip it good @ the gym. Or else Brooke Wyndham will call me a heifer!