Miss You Still

It has taken me two and a half years to accept the fact that you've passed away. I think it'll take me a little more time to let go.

I still cry when I think of you. I secretly open your closet to let your scent permeate the air in your bedroom as I inhale deeply. I still wear the pajamas you sew for me, old and tattered they may be.

I still miss you, Tita.

Selfish

I am praying for a miracle. Hoping. Wishing.

Every time I think about it, I feel like crying. I can sympathize with Jacob when he told Bella that every beat of her heart is precious to him because it is numbered.

If I am being selfish these days, it's because I am trying to cope.

Movie list

I love watching beautiful and amazing movies. My favorite ones are those that either make me gape and say "oh, wow!" or ones that make me reflect.

No, big guns and ear-splitting booms and bangs never make a movie great for me. Hot men or cute boys? Well, perhaps, it helps to have a hottie or two in a great movie. Amazing effects and cinematography are more like it. Again, "amazing" doesn't entail being loud (e.x. Hero, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon).

Another requirement: it should touch my heart. No need to be sappy romantic (nothing romantic in White Oleander or Europa, Europa). No need for torrid kissing. In fact, Il Mare doesn't have a kissing scene (they never even got to hold hands).

I'm not even a fan of classics. Film Noir, Humphrey Bogart, Clark Gable all drive me to boredom. Nothing is more cheesy than watching two leads embrace cheek to cheek while facing the camera.

The only scene i remember about Breakfast at Tiffany's is Audrey Hepburn munching on a sugar-free baguette in front of Tiffany's. I fell into a dreamless slumber as I watched Sleepless in Seattle. I cried tears of boredom when I accompanied a friend to watch a Meg Ryan film, the title of which I cannot even remember.

Winning an Oscar award is hardly a criterion to be in my list. Most of those the movies that I adore are not even in English (Heavenly Forest, Be With You, Waterboys, Shadowless Sword and Shinobi are a few).

I'm more into the subtle, beautiful films that leaves an impression on me.

I'm being a brat

...and I hardly seem to care.

I will, however, regret this later. Hopefully, much much later.

Right now, i'm still acting like a brat.

I recently reorganized my DVDs and VCDs collection due to an attack of OC-ness. To my exasperation, I'm missing several much-loved movies and series. Drat!

I know I'm being a big pain, but really, I'm damning every fiber of my friendly-ready-to-lend-out-my-collection self. I remember each and every one of those i've lent out and i'm wishing them back.

Drat, darn, and damn. If only i've lent out the ones i'm not going to miss.

Playlist

I have a weird taste in music. No, i'm not into the screaming-your-lungs-out punk rock music. Rather, i'm very random.

From Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies to Carlos Santana, from Much Ado's Sigh No More to L'arc en ciel's Flower, from Chris Brown's Forever to DBSK's Mirotic, from Gregorian Chants to Utada Hikaru.

I switch genres constantly in the same random way my mind works.

An online friend once asked me what makes a song great. All songs are great. It's just that i listen to the ones that catches my attention at that moment.

When watching dramas or movies, i'm sometimes more interested in the song playing in the background than in the scene itself. e.g. There's a scene in Grey's Anatomy (which i barely remember) where McDreamy reconciles with Merideth. It was supposed to be a sweet scene but all i remember is the song in the background, Fool's Gold by Adrienne Pierce.

Right now, I'm into this Korean band that sound so jazzy, Clazziquai. Dance a.k.a. Hold Your Tears has been playing in my head for a while now.



What catches my attention? Unique blends of instruments, a catchy tune, a good voice. Guitars are what makes me listen to most rock songs, a unique guitar rift. The first 15 seconds are the most crucial for me. A song that makes me stop whatever i'm doing and listen is a must-have for me.

Set Up

Chinky: [while i was applying powder in front of the mirror] Jo, gusto mo iset-up kita ng date?
Me: Ibili mo na lang ako ng aso.
Chinky: [laughing]Huh?! Bakit naman?
Me: Aso na lang or puppy kung ang hanap mo ay unconditional love and undying loyalty.

Puppy Love

He stared at me with adorable puppy eyes, a soulful brown. He was full of curiosity, like a hound sniffing everything. He won my heart the first time he fell asleep in my arms.

His name is Matt. Well, he’s a mutt. A very curious puppy to be exact. Caramel brown with a black beauty mark on his cheek. He came home with Papa a week after I arrived home. I never expected to fall in love with another dog after my own “baby” died a year ago, he was 14. But, I guess, love for the furry creatures is something that’s in my blood (which I share with my maternal lolo).
It’s been so long since I’ve had a puppy. I grew up with puppies all over the place. I never realized how much I missed holding a sleeping puppy in my arms until Matt fell asleep waiting for the rain to stop. It’s a very maternal feeling, the gentle cuddling of something so soft and small. It’s like this small, innocent little creature trusts you with his life as he lays absolutely defenseless in slumber.

Home

Wearing an oversized P.E. shirt (from high school), my brother’s shorts, and my father’s rubber tsinelas which was a few sizes bigger than my feet with chopsticks holding my hair in place, I felt absolutely at ease as I walked down the streets. I had no money in my pocket, no cellphone; I wore no jewelry, no make-up or powder and still I felt wonderful. Ah, there’s no place like home.

Courage...

... is the one thing that I need most right now. As the days go by to the moment I face another monster in my life. I know my faith will waver, leading me to question things that I don't have answers to. Yet the coward that I am, I'm deliberately prolonging the agony, deliberately forgetting, desperately wanting to forget. The clock ticks. The hands keep moving. Trickling down to the day I face one of my worst fears.

The beauty of stress and school is that they keep you from thinking of things other than what needs to be done right at that moment. The endless studying, cramming, and note taking keeps the mind off things that the subconscious ponders. School is a wonderful excuse of forgetting. It has become my escape.

Unfortunately, stuff that I've outrun are catching up to me. School has ended for the meantime.

I have no excuses left. No more pretenses. No more dreaming. I just wish that the pain will be dulled soon. I just wish that I can soon look back and smile fondly at the hazy, dreamlike memories.

Santong Dasal

A message from God:
"No man can ever claim you unless he claims you from me.
I reserved a man for you who has my heart and loves me even more than he will love you.
I won't give you unless he asks you from me.
Soon, you will know him, I have the perfect time.
You're my princess, my daughter.
Let no prince claim you unless he asks you from my hand...
For I am your Father, the King of kings.
You, my princess, are worth loving."

Puzzling

One of my many fascinations are puzzles. I discovered it in college. My LS project/group thesis in college involved puzzles. We made a business out of making and selling puzzles. I fell in love with puzzles. No, not the jigsaw 1000 piece puzzles. The wooden brainteaser types.

As I am in the middle of my study break, I find myself thinking of wooden puzzle boxes. I'm dreaming of a house of puzzles. Puzzle doors and puzzle furnitures. What fun it would be if a guest couldn't find his/her door! Metal puzzles for faucets and light switches, wooden box puzzles for cabinets and knick knacks, assemble/entanglement puzzles for table tops and puzzles for place mats and rugs.

I've always loved solving puzzles. My favorite movies include Da Vinci Code and National Treasure. But more than the knowledge, I love keeping secrets. Puzzles are great secret keepers. I adore the wooden resolute desks in National Treasure 2 and I plan to have one built when I'm able to afford one.

Recently, I have a fascination for Japanese wooden puzzle boxes. Clever and functional. Beautiful artwork and incredible craftmanship.
To see what I mean, check out this site: http://stores.brilliantpuzzles.com/-strse-Wooden-Puzzle-Boxes/searchpath/34343082/start/13/total/81/Categories.bok
Also this one: http://www.cleverwood.com/japanese_artists_price_list.htm
I'm into brass/metal puzzles as well: http://puzzlemuseum.com/month/picm08/2008-01-sun&moon.htm

Hiding Behind My Book

One of my most embarrassing moments of this semester happened a few hours ago.

I was in the throes of panic, to my defense, since i was seriously cramming my way into reading the Revised Penal Code. I forgot where i was supposed to be seated in the room. I was "bullying" (<-- according to Ces, which i absolutely deny) another person into leaving his seat. We had to confirm the arrangements from the proctor. Of course, I insisted that i was seated in that area. To my utter mortification, i read the seat plan wrong! Darned that teacher's table. He was, in fact, where he was supposed to be. I was the one usurping his seat. Grreeeaaatttt... Right, i really needed that extra embarrassment on top of my last minute cramming. Fortunately, he's an acquaintance and the story turned out really funny when Euns was telling it, especially when he was with his blockmates in the next bench in McDonald's.

Ugh, it was still embarrassing, however. This leads me to conclude that i've started several friendships this way. 1.) I fought over a front row seat with Quino in Economics in college and we later became friends; 2.) Sao, our new blockmate, took my seat (it's where i usually seat in class where i'm surrounded by friends) and I had to get it back by coming early and taking my seat back. Well, Sao seems to have forgotten the whole thing and we've become friends since then. So, i guess, I'm going to become friends with him as well. Hmmm, my methods of finding friends really are unique!

Skipping September

It's September = it's hell month.
Impossible but i wish i could just skip september and get to october now... look back from where i am in october, and wish i could return to september to correct all mistakes. impossible but i still wish it so.

But the good thing that September brings are birthdays and Gossip Girl's season 2.
I've just finished watching the first episode and i'm going gaga over Lady Gaga's Paparazzi song. I'm also going all kilig over Chuck and Blair.

Favorite scene:
Blair: [waiting in the front lawn for her date's car]
Chuck: [comes up behind Blair]
Blair: Chuck, aren't you done trying to destroy my night?
Chuck: Look, i should never have abandoned you. I knew i made the wrong decision as soon as your plane took off. Distracted myself all summer and i wouldn't feel it but i still do.
Blair: And?
Chuck: I'm scared... I'm scared that if we spend the whole summer together, just us, that you'll see.
Blair: See what?
Chuck: Me.
Chuck: Please don't leave with him.
Blair: Why? Give me a reason. And, "I'm Chuck Bass" doesn't count.
Chuck: Cause you don't want to.
Blair: [shaking her head] Not good enough.
Chuck: Cause I don't want you to.
Blair: [still shaking her head] It's not enough.
Chuck: What else is there?
Blair: The true reason i should stay right where i am and not get in the car. Three words, eight letters... Say it and i'm yours...
Chuck: I... I...
Blair: [pulls her hands away] Thank you. That's all i need to hear.

The Perfect NBSB Song

I love the lyrics, it's the perfect song for me and my roomies.

what i can remember
is alot like water
trickling down a page
of the most beautiful colors
i can't quite put my
finger down on the moment
that i became like ... this

you see, i'm the bravest girl
you will ever come to meet
and yet i shrink down to nothing
at the thought of someone
really seeing me
i think my heart is wrapped around
and tangled up in winding weeds

but i don't wanna go on living
being so afraid of showing
someone else my.. imperfections
even though my feet are trembling
and every word i say comes stumbling
i will bare it all.. watch me unfold
unfold

these hands that i hold
behind my back are
bound and broken by my own doing
and i can't feel
anything, anymore
i need a touch to remind me
i'm still real..

my soul
it's dying to be free
i can't live the rest of my life
so guarded
it's up to me to choose..
what kind of life i lead.

cause i don't wanna go on living
being so afraid of showing
someone else my.. imperfections
even though my feet are trembling
and every word i say comes stumbling
i will bare it all.. watch me unfold
unfold

i will allow someone to love me
i will allow someone to love me...

love me.. love me...

What Makes Me Sad

Feeling alone in a sea of people. A lost pet. Being left-out by my friends. Dying alone. A missed opportunity. A look of contempt. Dirty bathroom. A hungry stray animal. Wounded looks. Harsh words. Door slamming in my face. Missing her, my yaya and her calling me “Ging”. Death of a loved one. Being sick and not being able to eat chocolates. Waiting for someone who wouldn’t come. Withering flowers. An empty room. Good byes. The sounds of a broken sob. My bestfriend leaving. Failure and disappointment. A touching song. Fighting alone. Rejection. An unkind thought. Meeting a snob. Too much happiness. Losing faith. The story of star-crossed lovers. A blatant lie. Losing a dream. Falling for the wrong reasons. Forgetting.

Last Night’s Girl Talk

One of my roommates is mulling over her status with her boylet. As we sat on the bed in our pajamas, we talked about her boy and our non-existent love-lives. We are obviously strong women and we’ve established that we want stronger men in our lives, the ones who can withstand us and our harshly driven and competitive world. Yet, we seem to attract the opposite kind.

As I look back, I realize that I attract the edgy, clingy, emotionally-tormented, needy ones. Is it because I am strong that I attract the weak (for the lack of a better term)? Typical "opposites attract" theory. It’s an unfortunate fact that what we want and what we have are two different things. What do you do? Do you try to “want” what you “have” or do you set aside what you have in continued search for the one you want?

Bragging Rights

I received a text message from a friend basically telling me that the last of our grades came out and we had to check them online as several of us failed. With great trepidation, we went back to school, beating the library’s closing time by a few minutes in the hopes of online access.

As we waited for the webpage to load, I uttered a last minute prayer that neither I nor one of my friends failed. Euns got hers first, safe! Ces was next, safe! My heart was palpitating louder by the second. Panic doesn’t make me graceful at all as I clumsily logged-in. Euns smacked my lightly as she told me that I had no reason to panic. I didn’t fail. Far from it. We were looking at one of my best grades.

I swore them to secrecy (hopefully, they’d keep it within our group of friends) because I was afraid. I hate bragging. I hate making public any of my accomplishments, a habit that they found strange.

I would have wanted my friends to know but those particular grades were controversial because I wasn’t one of those expected to top it. It would have been fine had everyone else gotten the same grades but some of the best ones barely passed. I don’t know what I’ve done right but I’m not going to question it. It was an unexpected gift. I’m accepting it as it is and passing it on to my parents.

Cloying Sweetness

I watched as she approached the couple sitting on the table beside me. She smelled of floral shampoo, floral lotion, and floral perfume – all sweet and gentle from afar. As she sat several chairs away, her scent floated towards me. Cloyingly sweet. Unbearably overpowering. Heady. I wish she’d go away soon, I thought as I furtively covered my nose.

Sundays and Coffee

It was an adorable afternoon at Starbucks. An elderly man sitting far across me was napping with mouth wide open while his middle-aged companions were quietly reading the papers. He awoke when his daughter (I think) nudged him awake with a question.

A little earlier, I left my jacket on one of the tables, intending to reserve that table. Upon my return from ordering my drink, however, I found a man with a screaming yellow shirt and a very out-of-bed hair style sipping mango juice on my “reserved” table. Very weird man. He placed my jacket on the seat. As I got my jacket and transferred to the table in front of him, I was quietly wishing some very mean things upon him, like indigestion and hair loss.

Unable to open my laptop with its non-existent batteries and nowhere near an electric outlet, I read the papers. The yellow man reached for a newspaper behind me. He was, however, obviously either extremely bored or his mind wasn’t really into reading the Sunday paper because he was staring at a space on his left as I watched him from the corner of my eye.

All around me, people are either leisurely waiting for the hours to pass, fathers lounging around waiting for their family, children running around, worried nannies running after their wards while the mothers chatted, students studying, a few others, like me, typing away.

Such a quaint afternoon. It was, all in all, a relaxing Sunday afternoon as the elderly man slipped back into a light snooze.

The Snotty And The Simple

I was walking down the corridors of Powerplant mall yesterday when I encountered a group of young adults loitering around. I glanced at them, a clique of rich kids. Nothing unusual as Powerplant is the mall of choice of the upper social class. They were all dressed in the same way. All made-up and snottily cracking each other up, wearing fashionable clothing, dirty sneakers, and aviator sunglasses. Very cliché, I thought. Every one of them reminds of a peacock. All puffed-up and pretty, with a pea-sized brain and an Almighty-me attitude.

I went to Market Market shortly after that. Surprisingly, as I was eating my very late brunch at a fast food joint, a group of young adolescents walked in. Females, this time, all model-thin and walking the walk. Brushing past by, they sat down directly in the table beside mine. They then proceeded to chatter away, pretty rouge-tinged lips pouting, legs dangerously exposed by shorter-than-short shorts as they sat crossed-legged. I knew they were, obviously, not as rich as the ones I saw earlier, but the same feeling permeated from them – that of a peacock spreading its colorful tail to outdo others and attract potential mates.

Amazing how snottiness can transcend social class. All deliberately pretty façades yet I don’t remember any of their faces.