Masters part 2

I absented myself from work yesterday because I need to file my application for my graduate studies at the University of the Philippines - College of Mass Communication. My degree of choice is MAMSF (Master of Arts in Media Studies major in Film - some of my friends thought that I'm pursuing a double major since its both Arts and Science degree they say. They've mistaken the MS for Masters of Science).

The deadline of application is August 31 and I don't have any of the requirements: transcript of records, certified copy of diploma or certificate of graduation and recommendation forms. The application letter and statement of purpose, I wrote them a night before my planned quick-fire application process. I intend to get all of the necessary documents in the morning and to submit everything at UPD in the afternoon.

I arrived at Don Bosco ten minutes before 8AM. I went straight to the Rector's office wishing that he could sign my recommendation forms. I have three recommendation forms, only two of which is needed. However I feel that if the highest ranking officer in my former school will do the signing, I'd better get an advantage. Besides, I believe that he is among the people in the college who have discovered a talent in me. He gave me my first 1.00 in Theology, despite the fact that I totally hate the subject ... maybe my awfully-honest essays gave the talking (in my eight subjects of Theology, I garnered a grand total of five 1.00's, which I consider as one of my best feat ... I'm considered a bad/crazy/obnoxious guy in college, I'm very selective whose priests to be listened to). He's nowehere to be found in the campus. I went straight to the Registrar's office.

I applied for the transcript only last Monday, which means I can only receive my transcript and my diploma after a week - next Monday. I don't have any problem with the transcript, UPD has agreed that I may only pass a Certified True Copy of my Grades and the Original Transcript will soon to follow. The problem is on the diploma. The registrar staffs wouldn't want to give me my diploma because they are emphasizing my date of application. I asked them to give me at least a photocopy of my diploma because that's all I needed. After some more negotiations, they finally gave me my diploma. Case resolved.

On my way to fifth floor (the office of our department), I bumped into some of my classmates in my college. They said that I slimmed down. Hahaha, I told them that the no-beef diet is the main culprit. I remembered that it's been a month after I've decided to forsake any beef products from entering my gullet.

Mr. Barcenas (IT Department Chair) and Mr. Caruncho (IT Assistant Department Chair) are my referrers. They are intrigued with my degree of choice: Film. Mr. Caruncho has praised me for choosing to take a totally different path in my education. He even noted that I'm too technical to pursue another technical course (like MSIT, MSCS or MSIM). If only he knew that I totally suck in programming and networking. Mr. Barcenas, on the other hand, has offered me to teach at Don Bosco part-time, an offer which is not bad actually. I know that I can't apply my IT Skills in the real world but at least I can share what I have learned to students. Actually, I miss my school despite the frustrations that I have experienced here. This has been a second home for me for the past four years.

In half a day, I completed and compiled all my documents. I went sraight to UPD from Don Bosco via jeep to Pureza to LRT2 to Katipunan to jeep to UPD. I arrived at the CMC office by 1:30P.M. They asked me if I've already paid for the application fee. I told them No. Then they asked me to pay for it at the accounting office beside the UP Shopping Center which is one jeepney ride away. Ok, this is weird, I told myself.

At last, the requirements are finally submitted. the officer checked if I have submitted all necessary requirements. She checked my papers and look at my grades. She said that I have impressive grades, then she asked me, "Cum Laude ka ba noong college o magna cum laude?" I answered, "No, ma'am." She was surprised, "Huh? What's your GPA?" I told her that my GPA is 1.61. That is Cum Laude, she answered back. "In my school, if you got an INC (incomplete) mark you'll be disqualified from any Latin Honors," then I pointed to her my single INC mark which I got during the first semester of my fourth year. Her next answer cheered me up: "Ang KJ naman ng school niyo! Dito nga sa UP kahit magka-singko, kahit magdrop o Incomplete man basta umabot ang average sa cut-off pwede pa ring mag-Latin honors." I love how she emphasized KJ in her statement.

I looked at my phone-turned-watch, it's only 2:35PM. I walked heading to the UP Film Center and discovered that the documentary, Bunso will be shown for free. I decided not to go home yet.

In Memory of Elmo Redrico

It's just weird. I received an e-mail from Titus Brandsma Media Program Yahoo Groups with the subject heading, "Patay na si Ka Elmo." At first I thought of it as an antipathetic mail - or possibly a publicity mail, since he has a role in Ato Bautista's upcoming film, "Blackout," opposite Robin Padilla. I read the mail, it's no joke. Elmo Redrico is really dead. He passed away last Tuesday afternoon due to heart failure. I felt the mail's subject heading too straightforward, it hit me straight to the heart. Then I realized that this is the only way the message could be disseminated. He's dead, no way to romanticize it. My condolences to his family and loved ones.

Elmo Redrico, for those who don't know him, is an artist, a theater thespian and musician who has also contributed his talents to various independent films like Kubrador, Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros, and Sikyu. He is a member of the theater group PETA (Philippine Educational Theater Arts) and he is one of the key organizers and programmers of the "Pelikula at Titus Brandsma" at the Titus Brandsma Center.

I never had the chance to be close to him in a personal level, but definitely I will never forget him. The first time I set foot on the grounds of Titus Brandsma Center to participate in its film showing last May 2005, he is the first person whom I asked if the place is the location. He told me in a very jolly manner, "Hindi ka nagkakamali!" then faced the other members of the group and shouted, "Mga katoto may nadekwat na naman tayo!" I made a very good impression in him on that very day.

For months after the first viewing, I started to visit regularly at Titus Brandsma, then on March 2006, I stopped visiting because I need to focus on my thesis, I graduated and eventually, I became busy wth work. Then just last August 2008, I participated again for Titus' 9th year anniversary where it showcased 14 digital shorts and the full-length feature, Sa aking Pagkakagising Mula Sa Kamulatan. Elmo upon noticing me addressed me, "Uy! Long time no see! Buti na lang napadaan ka sa anniversary!" As usual, he is the jolly man in the room, joking around, making funny comments in films. No signs that this will be the last time I'm going to see him like this - the last time I'll be meeting him.

Sometimes things do happen, and what hurts the most is the unexpected.

This post is dedicated to Elmo Redrico who has graced the world of Filipino independent films. He is a great loss to the Philippine indepent sector. May he be happy now in heaven.
Photo courtesy of Khavn dela Cruz from the images attached in his mail to Cinemanila Yahoo Groups

I have to post this poem (or song) which is disseminated on the groups by someone whose e-mail address is docrting@yahoo.com. I just found it very touching:

tulad sa pelikula...

ang buhay ay tulad sa pelikula
may bida, may kontrabida.
may umpisa at may katapusan.
May pelikulang walang kwenta.
Meron ding pelikulang di malilimutan.
Sa alinman angulo ito panunuorin,
ang pelikula ay buhay.

tulad ng buhay....
ang pelikula.

Isang pagpupugay kay Ka Elmo.

One Small Mistake

An employee doing his routine work throws a scrap of paper, that ruins the entire office.

Let's Unite

I have just read and signed the online petition: "Guimaras Oil Spill" hosted on the web by PetitionOnline.com, the free online petition service. If you can spare a moment, please take a look and consider signing yourself.

Read the Guimaras Oil Spill Petition Here.


Where have the mangroves gone?

"Let us unite and demand that Petron answer this tragedy and be held accountable for the loss of natural resources and livelihood of the people of the island."

Master's

Am I really ready for Graduate School? Or maybe, I'm rushing things up? But those questions will all end up to this: I know I want to specialize and pursue higher studies in film, and the UP Film Institute is the only institution in the country (or the only one I know) that offers a master's degree in Film... and I will get that slot. The deadline of sending of application is on August 31, 2006, this Thursday and I'm getting loco preparing the requirements. I have a regular job, then I need to absent myself tomorrow because I will submit to UPCMC my applications. But before that, I still have to acquire my recommendation letters from two of my former professors in college.

The only thing that I'm certain is about is I will pursue film. This is my dream and I want to reach it. This time, definitely.

Do I Really Look Like Them?

Hahaha, according to this site, I look like Lucas Scott (The OC), Neo (The Matrix), Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars) Clark Kent (Smallville) and ... someone named Jon Seda (who's this guy?).

Oh, really?

Voice Double

Just finished watching Philippine Idol. I can't believe that no former contestants from other major singing contests made it even to the Top 40 (read: Marinel Santos, OJ Mariano and Divo Bayer just to name a few). It's possible that their groupmates pulled them down or maybe they aren't really good enough this time. Cross-dresser Yoba (Kenneth, real name) did made it to the top 40 but lost a spot in the top 24. I can't name all the top 24 but one of the most noticeable is Paw - a lady (I mean, butch) hiphopper. Her voice reminds me that of Aiza Seguerra's (when she sang Joey Albert's "Ikaw Lang ang Mamahalin", a performance which delineated her from the hiphop and R&B genre, I got goosebumps). She's one of my bets who will made it to the top 12. To see the complete list of finalists, click here.

Tune in for the boys' performance night on Saturday, September 2 at 8PM and the elimination on Sunday.

***

Speaking of gooesebumps, I just felt one when my sister and I went to church this morning. The mass begins at 8:00 AM and we arrived fifteen minutes early but churchgoers have already flooded inside. Good thing, there are seats still available in the last row. As we wait for the mass to begin, I asked my sister to save my seat because I need to piss. I went inside the men's restroom, locked the door and started to piss. Busy releasing my excretions, I hear someone knocking on the door while saying, "Kapatid, bilisan mo naman diyan! (Brother, can't you be faster!)." I recognized the voice as my sister's. I shouted back, "Ano ka ba! Doon ka sa ladies room! (Hey! Go to the the ladies' room!)." After that, I heard no reply from her. Maybe she realized that the ladies room's just beside the men's room.

I went out of the restroom expecting to see my sister. Yes, I saw her but in our seats in the last row. I asked her why is she knocking on the men's room whereas the ladies' room is just beside it. She said that she never left our seats. I'm puzzled, I said to her that I swear that I heard her voice asking me to fasten up. She insisted that she would never leave our seats for the fear that someone might take over. I tried to recall the scenario - there's no doubt that it's her voice that I heard. She even knocked on the door. Then, I realized that there's no way that my sister will knock on a men's room to pee or to wash or what.

If it's not my sister, who's calling me then?

T.R.A.F.F.I.C Brings out the Insanity in You

A concoction of fatigue and boredom in the middle of a traffic jam will unscrew your nuts and bolts out of your cranium, exposing your emulsified brain. Of course that’s not a theory; it’s a tested fact of life. Traffic jam destroys sanity, especially if you aren’t armed with a MP3 player where you can listen to music to pass time. So probably you have with you your MP3 player but it happened that you forgot to recharge its battery and it died down. Luckily, you have with you Stephen Hawking’s “Brief History of Time” that you printed last night, then gave your wits up after passing through the first ten pages since reading it is like decoding instructional manual printed in hieroglyphics. You tried to sleep, but you can’t sleep because the one sitting next to you is snoring to the tune of “Waltzing Matilda.” The only thing that you can rely on is your imagination. Yeah, that’s hopeless.

Those things happened about two weeks ago to none other than yours truly. Never did I realize that it will happen again

I am on the roads averaging to three hours a day – an hour and a half travel time from my hometown (SJDM, Bulacan) to my workplace (Ayala, Makati) and the remainder of it is allotted on my way back home. I don’t commute going back home because I always ride with my dad on our car.

Yesterday, two of my officemates, Stephen and Art, dragged me to join with them to shop at Greenhills after work. Before that, I messaged my dad that I will not join the ride back home because I will hangout with friends since its a Friday. In a sudden, we ended up at Robinson’s Galleria instead - blame the heavy downpour.

At 8:30 PM, the rains has leveled down and we just decided to go home. Art lives in Boni Avenue in Mandaluyong, so he doesn't have that much problem. Stephen, who lives near SM Fairview in Quezon City, and I rode a bus heading to SJDM, minimizing the hassle in my side, or so I thought.

We entered the bus. There are no seats left so the two of us have to stand in the narrow aisle. Gosh, if this is the Metro Railway Transit (MRT) I needn't to panic - but this is a bus! What if everyone's in the same destination as I am? Thankfully, we have managed to have a seat after twenty minutes when four or five passengers were unloaded in Cubao.

The bus stopped in front of University of the Philippines' NCPAG and loaded another batch of passengers. One of them happened to be Laurie, a schoolmate in high school (when I graduated in high school, she was a sophomore), who is on her third year as Public Administration major in UP. We don't talk that much back then in school, only if given a chance. She noticed me and call me in my evil name,"Demento." We haven't talk on this first "long time, no see" moment. It's impossible to go gaga in this very jam-packed bus.

When Stephen stepped out of the bus by 9:30PM, more passengers came in. At this moment, I feel like we are sardines clamped in a can, minus the tomato sauce. We are riding somewhat smoothly when suddenly the bus took a halt. For fiteen minutes it didn't move. Then another fifteen minutes and it hasn't shown any signs of moving. I peeped out; we are still in Dela Costa, Kalookan City. It's definitely happening again.

One by one, the passengers went out of the bus and decided to walk. I looked out once again and it's not raining anymore. I said to myself, if Laurie will step out of the bus, I will go with her. At least I will have someone to talk to. I looked at the back and saw her reading notes, or something. When her seatmate also losed hope and stood up, I sat next to her and started to talk to her. The supposedly nerve-cracking and frustrating traffic became a crazy fun night for us.

The topics of our conversation traversed from one topic to another, from the lives of our classmates in our respective batches in highschool, my life as a fresh graduate, her life as student, on suspicions on the relationship between Barbie Almalbis and Kitchie Nadal (I don't know about this, I swear, she brought this up and I ate it), flying cockroach in MRT, frat rumble in UP, torturing snails and red ants using alcohol and iodized salt, threats of decapitating human beings who aren't worthy of time, that little girl in front of us, who horrifyingly passed in our seats, who we suspected as a character in a Korean horror flick, the sleeping commuters in our batch who are snoring ... the list of stories are almost endless. We talked and we laughed at almost everything we say. There's a time we suspect ourselves for laughing at things which are not really funny at all. Then we commended that this is caused by stress and hunger. We thanked each other for accidentally bumping at the same bus or else we could already imagine ourselves committing suicide in this horrendous. The first time we looked at our watches, it's already 12:00 midnight and the radio station we are listening to were already playing the national anthem, meaning that it's already signing off. We are stuck for four hours.

We went out of the bus by 12:45 AM, still laughing. At last, we are now in a jeep that will bring us to our final destination, in the subdivision where we are living in. Then we are starting to get paranoid because the jeep is actually moving in a normal pace, which we interpreted as "very fast for us to handle". We were screaming in laughter.

Home, at last!

To Keep the One I Love, I Make Other Couples Break Up

Just seen Kwon Jong Gwan's "Sad Movie." I have to apologize for making this post somehow incomprehensible. Ten minutes after seeing the film, I felt my heart stopped and left myself speechless for the next ten minutes thinking how a movie like that was created with immeasurable greatness. Watching it is a rollercoaster ride experience for me; the movie lives up to its title. I'm really sorry if this post appears senseless. Maybe I should not talk about the film today. Give me until tomorrow; that's enough time to regain my critic strength.

I really apologize, but Korean films rock!

(a memorable moment from Sad Movie)

Survivor: Solar System

Pluto is not a planet anymore, but is demoted to become a dwarf planet. Hmm, this is a sure shot that all science books will be updated for next school year.

***

And some people are taking this very seriously. Check this out:

For more pictures, click the image above.
And check this site devoted on keeping the Pluto a planet

Anak Ka Ng Jueteng part 2

As like other Jeffrey Jeturian's films, Kubrador didn't follow the use of traditional plot. In Tuhog (2000), he brought us what's the truth behind bold movies which are "based on a true story" by showing us two different movies: "the true story" and "the cinematic sensationalism of the true story". In Minsan Pa (2004), Jetturian told his story primarily in the Cebuano dialect challenging the cultural dominance of richer and more powerful Tagalog-speaking majority. In Bikini Open (2005), he satirized at the annual summer swimwear competition and the rating-hungry TV stations. There is a shift between video format from the film format, as it becomes the point of view of a camera used by a tele-magazine crew to tell a story.

In Kubrador, there's no such thing as a main storyline. The camera works let us follow the life of a bet collector in the persona of Amy (Gina Pareno) in three days. As some viewers might look for any plot development in the movie, actually there is none. If we bother to collect the scenes, we could find one short film that stand on its own. Just try to check out the magnificence in these scenes: the opening chasing scene, Amy's being lost in the labyrinth of houses in the squatter's area, the policemen's bets, the ending cemetery scene. Looking at a bigger picture, the film Kubrador is actually a collection of short films about a single topic (jueteng) and about a single character (Gina) merged to form a full length. Having the ability to change storytelling techniques from one style to another, Jeffrey Jeturian is easily one of the most versatile Filipino directors of this time.

Gina Pareno was hailed Best Actress in Osian Film Festival held in New Delhi, India (beating Monica Belucci and Salma Hayek) for her natural portrayal in Kubrador. The movie also won Best Director and Best Picture

The excellent aspect in Kubrador is that it doesn't preach to its viewers. It bravely showed the mystery behind the unarguably most intriguing form of gambling in the Philippines. It comically shows how dreams and events can be translated into pairs of numbers. It shows that one can bet a small amount of P1.00 and still win a big prize (in one instance in the film, one has bet P200 and won P180,000). It shows us that its very difficult to eradicate jueteng because everyone looks at it as a big opportunity to win big amount of money. It shows us how can a poverty-stricken community can be blinded from the illegality of such gamble - that as people try to bet for more for the hope of winning, the jueteng operators grows richer, and they don't have to bet. It shows that anyone can be hooked - our father, our mother, the police, the priests (in the movie, the priest asks for contribution from the "manager"), the same people in the government who tells us that jueteng is a big crime, possibly me. It clearly tells us that any one could go for easy money, despite of many factors.

With the sleek direction of Jetturian, the intelligent screenplay of Ralston Jover and the showcasing of the best performance of Gina Pareno, this is definitely the film to beat for year 2006.

Anak Ka Ng Jueteng

Hundreds of moviegoers jampacked on their way inside the cinema where "Kubrador (Bet Collector)" is being shown. Everybody seemed to be so intrigued with the promised beauty of the internationally acclaimed film that the tickets for the August 22, 6:00PM screening at Glorietta Cinema 4 were sold out.

The above statement is, of course, still a dream in Philippine cinema, for now at least. It's like no one would spend their time watching a Filipino low-budget digital film. One of my friends actually admitted that he will not spend money on films that were not heavily budgeted or blockbuster potential (which explains his love for The Matrix Trilogy, Superman and Star Wars). The truth is, next to nobody saw Kubrador that time. The movie theater is so flocked with four people (yes, you read that right, four) that we could play badminton or volleyball inside, only that there are no audience at the back to cheer us. My friend, Chris, told me that when she watched Kubrador in the SM Mall of Asia last Saturday, there are only ten of them inside the theatre - two were even foreigners. Other moviegoers might have been continuously contributing to the gross income of "Sukob" to eight or nine digits as for the moment.

It seems that this ad campaign doesn't help that much to give the movie's ticket sales a boost. Oh well, the film will always remain a great one, no matter what.

Despite the obvious indication that Jeffrey Jetturian's feature film will be ranked under blockbuster failure, it will hail as his best feature since "Tuhog" (2000).

You can find more images about the movie in this site.
(to be continued...)

The Guimaras Oil Spill

I became an official member of Greenpeace Southeasia last July 2006. As a member, I provide monthly monetary contributions to sustain the organization's campaign to protect mother earth.

I am disheartened by the Petron oil spill in Guimaras; I never thought that the disaster has been very severe, until I saw it in the television just last Sunday. The then beautiful paradise of white sands and clear blue sea has suddenly turned to murky black. At this moment, the oil slick has hit more than 200 kilometres of coastline, damaging mangrove swamps, seaweed plantations and coral reefs containing popular dive sites. Thus, the livelihood of thousands of people dependent on fishing had been destroyed.

Greenpeace is doing their actions to keep the oil slick from spreading to a larger area which might also affect the nearby provinces of Negros and Iloilo, the retrieval of the vessel in the seabed which caused the oil spill and the eventual clean up of the mess. Sadly, I feel that my donations might not be of big help and I can't be in the site personally for logistic help. The only other thing that I can do is to help awaken the awareness of everyone about the problem. I bet not everyone is aware about the how huge is the problem is. The oil spill as dubbed as the worst in the Philippines and would take more than a year and will cost millions of pounds to clean up.

Let's all help together to disseminate the devastating information.
Boycott Petron for being responsible for the environmental catastrophe. It was found out that Petron is still using obsolete, single-hull tankers to ferry oil products from island to island. Petroleum products are being transported in more modern, double-hull tankers strong enough to withstand the harshness of weather than their single-hull counterparts. Petron must be fined and be ordered to pay for the sea cleanup.

(more images at the GreenPeace website)

LSS: "Isipin Mo Na Lang" by Bayang Barrios

I lost count. The moment I plugged my headsets, my ears seem not to get rid of Bayang Barrios' music. That theme from "Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros (The Blossoming of Maximo Oliveros)" - "Isipin Mo Na Lang" - has successfully depressed me, well in a good way I mean. The lyrics are too sad plus the accompanying music is too melancholy. I'm a sucker for depressing music, that explains why I'm loving it.

Isipin Mo Na Lang sung by Bayang Barrios

Nangangamba ka ba/Na ngayong malayo ka/Ako kaya ay magbago/Hinahanap ko ba sa iba ang ligaya/Ngayong tayo’y magkalayo/Manatili’t huwag matinag/Sa pag-ibig mo ay bihag/Ang puso kong ito/ Isipin mo na lang, ang ating samahan/At ang pag-ibig ko sa ‘yo/ Isipin mo na lang, ang ating samahan/At ang pag-ibig ko sa ‘yo/ Isipin mo na lang, ngayong natagpuan/ Tunay na magmamahal sa akin/At ang nag-iisang hadlang/Ay ang pansamantalang paghihintay/Ba’t di ko gagawin/ Manatili’t huwag matinag / Sa pag-ibig mo ay bihag/Ang puso kong ito

"Maximo," by the way, won Best Picture in the Gawad Urian 2006. It also bagged Best Screenplay for Michiko Yamamoto (her second Urian, her first is for Magnifico), Best Cinematography for Nap Jamir III and Best Editing for Clarence Sison and Kanakan Balintagos. I heard that the movie will be showing again some time on September at SM theatres, as well as another Cinemalaya Finalist and Jaclyn Jose starrer, "Sarong Banggi" whose performance earned her a 2nd Best Actress Urian.

I'm going to see it again.

And damn, Bayang's still singing.

Note: Images were grabbed from the official website of Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros

Nope, I'm Not the Father of My Niece

7:00 AM
My mom destroyed the mirage of me walking up a stage while being hailed as the First Placer for the English Short Story Category of the Carlos Palanca Memorial Award 2006. I’m in the verge of receiving the medal when a loud knock in the door brought me back to consciousness. My mom reminded me of the christening of my niece, Xylyn Jriel (pronounced as ZAHY-LENE JZER-YEL), which will be held on 11AM at the Malate Catholic Church. We live in SJDM, Bulacan. The estimated time travel is two hours. And my mom is urging me to hurry up because she said that my dad said that we are heading by at 8AM sharp to avoid traffic. Walking my way to the bathroom, I accidentally stepped on the tail of my cat, Whity (I’m not creative on giving names to pets) sending him to rebound across the dining area.

7:45 AM
Vertical-striped polo shirt: checked. Black pants: checked. Black boots, shined: checked. Hair: waxed and dressed. Lanvin Vetyver: sprayed all over my body, smelled to kill. My over-all package: two thumbs up! And my older sister, Mayumi, and my mom aren’t dressed yet. To make things more interesting, their towels are still attached on their heads. I thought we are leaving at 8AM sharp?

8:30 AM
The three sinister girls (mom, Mayumi and Diane) in the family are still putting on their make-ups. I am watching the last quarter of the 2005 Oscar Best Picture, “Crash” at MNet Movies while eating noodles. Officially, I’ve seen the film 2 ¼ times at the very moment.

9:00 AM
Finally, we’re heading to Malate. My mom asked me to lift the pot of orchid which she will be giving to my aunt. I refused to be in the front seat because I don’t want to sit with orchid placed behind my legs. I jumped at the backseat instead, with Dianne and ate Mayumi.

9:15 AM
I opened Irving Stone’s book, “The Passions of the Mind,” (a novel about Sigmund Freud) which I have been reading since the past week. The book is 918-page thick and I’m not yet even near in the middle. Well, this could be a long ride. The book however is so good. I stopped thinking of Freud as a pure sexual maniac.

9:50 AM
Traffic isn’t bad. We’re having a stopover at Shell, Commonwealth Avenue. I, being a huge sucker for donuts, bought a half-dozen at Shell Select. We shared a desirable sugar fix inside the car.

10:30 AM
Traffic really isn’t bad even in Manila! We reached the destination earlier as expected. Inside the church, we looked for Ate Jessa, my sister-in-law and mother of my niece, Xylyn. Xylyn has a very cute smile that I wanted to pinch her cheeks so hard until it reddened but thankfully I stopped myself. The father of the kid is my brother Xerxes, who is working as a Biotechnologist / Biomedical Engineer at a hospital in Dammam, Saudi Arabia. He isn’t present for his daughter’s baptism so it’s important that we are all there (actually, he hasn’t yet seen his child personally).

10:45 AM
My cousins Mimi and Juvy arrived, and then went Uncle Noli and family then Uncle Roland and family. My other cousins - Clarice and Antoy, who already have their own respective child, are also in the gathering. Xylyn only has three pairs of godfathers and godmothers, and I’m not even one of them. It’s in the contrary of other children who have a whole barangay posing as godfathers and godmothers.

11:00 AM
I realized that this is the first time since my college baccalaureate mass that I have attended a mass.

11:30 AM
The ceremony started. On the baptism rites, Ate Jessa asked me to hold Xylyn’s head while the priest pours holy water on her head. I was also assigned to light the big candle which will be passed to the godfathers and godmothers. There is this nosy photographer who urged Ate Mimi to bring back the candle to the father because he needs to take the picture. I clarified to him, “I’m not the father, I’m the brother of the father.”

My first niece is officially a member of the Catholic Church.

12:00 PM
We're heading to Robinson's Ermita for the reception at the Cabalen. Ate Mimi, Ate Juvy, Ate Mayumi and I have been so obsessed with the fried kangkong with dip that we ended up disliking the taste of it in the end. The corn soup is yummy, the fried tofu is spectacular and the ensaladang mangga is perfect. Ate Mimi asked me if I'm going vegetarian because she hasn't seen me eating any of the meat viands. I told her that I'm not actually turning vegetarian, I'm just avoiding beef. Maybe it's just coincidental that the meat dishes are kare-kare, bopis and bulalo. Well, there is adobong manok and pork lechon in the buffet table but I chose not to eat them. I'm loving these veggie greats!

1:30 PM
My sister cousins wooed me to treat them for Dippin' Dots ice cream - those ice creams shaped into small circles which costs 80-pesos a small cup. At the back of my mind I'm screaming: I will not spend that much for such a small serving but ended up buying it because I feel I need to taste it. I bought each one of us a small cup. I chose the banana split- chocolate mix: it's heaven in a small cup. I loved it.

I have a trauma for eating expensive ice creams in the past. Once, I puked after eating a whole scoop of Haagen Dazs's strawberry ice cream. I don't know why, I just puked. I swore not to eat at any high-end ice cream parlors from that moment on.

2:00 PM
Time to bid goodbyes. Ate Mimi and Ate Jovy decided to roam around at the mall first before heading home to Sampaloc. Uncle Roland and family and Uncle Noli decided to go straight to their homes. Then we said our goodbye to Ate Jessa and her daughter. We will miss them for sure.

4:00 PM
Finally at home. Bedlam once again.

Note: All the scenarios indicated above happened yesterday, August 20, 2006.

Goodbye Beef Misono

moooo!

For the past two weeks, I eliminated beef from my diet. During the period, I have survived daily existence without a single bite of hamburgers, shawarma, all-meat pizza, nilagang baka, beef misono, beef steak or beef stroganoff. Whenever my friends would ask me to join them to eat at McDonald’s, I will order a McChicken Sandwich or McFish Fillet or to cut things short, anything without beef on it. My friends suspect my action as a first step to vegetarianism which is not really contrary to the initial point of my idealism, but I have to say that that idea is too far from what I am actually heading.

The whole no-beef diet started as a product of my sympathy to cows. No I’m not trying to engage on a Hindu beliefs and consider cows as sacred. Blame me for having been watched a very graphic episode of ABS-CBN's show, Kontrobersyal (with host Boy Abunda) about the bizaare manner of slaughtering cows. What I am referring to is the tinggal, or the forcing of cows to intake gallons of water just to appear heavier once a cow's been delivered to a slaughterhouse. The resonating sound here is "business as usual" - heavier cows mean bigger bucks.

For starters, let me tell you how tinggal works. First, we need the primary component- the cows. Make sure that cute animal is ready for sale. Then assemble the simple machine equipments: a hose and a faucet. Attach the hose to the faucet and stuff it into the cow's mouth until it reached halfway its throat. Open the faucet and let the water flow; the cow drinks. Let the water flow continuously for five straight minutes. At this moment, you'll start to notice that the cow is feeling uncomfortable, it's stomach expanding enormously. One more minute and the cow's trying to moo, as if it wants to cry. Water starts to exit through the poor ungulate's nose, sign for the mangtitinggal to stop. The cow, now filled with water, will be delivered to the butcher's house where it will meet its fate as the main ingredient for burgers and roasts.

According to animal rights activists, the most "humane" (the irony is, they are animals) way to kill an animal for food is by pounding their head hard enough to knock them unconsious before butchering them. The concern here is for the animals to experience the least minimal pain. Tinggal, on the other hand, is torture. I remember once as a kid I tried to drink a whole pitcher of water, one glass at a time. The stupid act caused stomach pains in my part. I can't imagine how would a cow bear drinking flowing water for straight five minutes.

I believe no living thing would desire to experience a slow painful death (unless one's a masochist, but I doubt it still). Honestly speaking, I would rather have a bullet ricocheting in my head than a scalpel slicing my innards.

That's why I stopped eating beef. I feel with the cow's agony. I feel sorry that I am responsible for their pain, for they need to get killed as foods for us, humans. I feel sorry for them for they don't have the capability to fight for their life and plea for a chance. It's because they are just cows.

However, I feel weird about myself for not feeling sorry with chickens and pigs getting killed for food. Up to this moment I'm still deciphering for a reason. Maybe I need to see them getting killed just like what I saw with the cows? I don't know, but I feel that is pathetic but what if that is the only real reason?

Of Writing a Diary as a School Requirement to Talking to My Guardian Angel to Blogging

My first diary entry was written when I was in Grade Five as a project in English. Up to date, the reason why my English teacher asked a diary for a requirement remains vague. I remember those days when my teacher would ask us to place our diaries to her table, where she would read our diaries, one by one. I'm thinking that the reason of our teacher's turning a diary as our weighty obligation (it's weighty when I was a kid because it sometimes took me more than an hour to compose a two-paragraph essay) is for chismis purposes, I'm kidding. However at times, we would find her laughing, as if she had found something naughty from any of our diaries or possibly because the use of grammar in the whole entry was so stupid, it deserved to be ridiculed.

After that grading period, I stopped keeping a diary, not until first year college when sentimality suddenly struck me. I bought notebooks (the ProEarth recycled notebooks, which cost P7.00 apiece back then (2002), with covers of Panda Bears, Bactrian Camels and Siberian Tigers and other endangered species ) where I wrote my life with a twist. I started writing to my guardian angel. Yep, read it again - my GUARDIAN ANGEL. I named him Achaia. To him I whispered my experiences - the confidential information and the embarassing moments. Then I started doubting about angels and accused myself as crazy. I burned all the notebooks containing all my letters to Achaia.

I started documenting my life in a "normal way" after all my notebooks with letters to my angel had turned to ashes. I bought new notebooks and started documenting my life again, this time minus the headings (as in "Dear Achaia," or simply "Achaia,"). Those times, I can pass a whole month without writing a thing in my journal. Then depression hit me, I became reunited with my journal for the second time. All the things I had written during those dark moments, I still keep them. If I'm in the mood on puttin myself into agony, I reread all the things I have put in those notebooks. Until now I keep a journal and write longhand occasionally. It doesn't matter how long the gap between the first entry to the second entry is, as long as I can document the things which I believe as more worth remembering.

I discovered the blog on year 2004. I tried it and I was so ecstatic to see my personal webpage. My first blog is a Blogger. After two posts, I suddenly forgot about my blog because thinking for a thesis proposal had preoccupied three-fourths of the one-tenths of my brain (does that make sense?). I went back to pen and notebook because I felt more connected to what I am documenting when I am writing longhand.

Time passed and I suddenly remembered that I have created a blog, only that I forgot my username and password. I created a second Blogger account, wrote a post, forgot everything about it again and went back to pen and paper. During that time Friendster has already developed their own blogsite. I signed up for a Friendster blog and managed to post a number of memorable entries. I eventually noticed the limitations of Friendster blogs and erased my account and made a Tabulas account, where I suddenly enjoyed blogging. However, it's just impossible for me to swear off the magics of pen and paper.

Now I have a new Blogger account (but I will still keep my Tabulas). I felt that I need a bigger community (or simplu put, a wider reader base) to share my opinions, my experiences. Maybe this is a sign of liberation for me. Before, I look at journals as extremely private not until I enjoyed writing blogs. After I have discovered someone commenting in my posts in Tabulas, I felt grateful. Whether a comment is positive or negative, I accept it wholeheartedly. I now look at a journal as a democratic medium where a group of people can freely affirm or react.

When someone asks me if I'm a very private person, I tell them, "No, I have a blog."

Looking for a Pefect Blog is a Tedious Task

I have been searching for the perfect blogsite for the past three hours and a half. Yes, you heard it right. I Googled for a list of different blogsites and I have stumpled upon a page named Weblogs Compendium, where a complete list (or so I thought) of existing blogsites was spoon-fed to me. Most of the sites aren't promising enough for my taste that I started cursing myself, "Why do you have to this you fool." That is after I have noticed myself opening free accounts to each single blogsite listed, and deleting my account after learning that I hate it anyway.

I really do make things complicated. I'm trying to be out of the ordinary by looking for a web journal which is not Blogger, Tabulas, Xanga or LiveJournal. I ended out having a Blogger account all the way.

This is officially my fifth blog (or sixth, damn I lost count) after my very first blog. I still have my Tabulas Account by the way, not until I have transferred all of the posts in this new account.

Hochachtungsvoll