thirty-nine [& thirty-seven]
The Bell Jar copy I bought is missing pages 74 through 106.
Bummer.
* * *
I’d date the jerk wearing pin# 39.
* * *
Taub: When left to our own devices…we make lousy choices.
* * *
Wilson to House: So you divide your nights between porn & the Discovery channel…
* * *
There’s a chance, a very slim chance, that we might be called in to report for training in the U.K. I’ll finally have my photo taken with a beefeater. I’ll have to think up a nasty pose. Haha!
degenerate losers
Tuesday, March 16, 2010…Like most men…Most of them are just animals, you know, they have no imagination, they’re barely human. Without imagination you sink back into your physical body, you become bestial, stupid, fixed on one idea…You degenerate. You really do, you sink back. You regress. The season for mating takes no imagination, it’s all direct, physical, it’s impersonal, but after that life is all imagination…and…most men don’t have that capacity. That’s why they are impotent–most men. ~Marthe in Crossing the Border by Joyce Carol Oates
Men are pathetic.
Regardless if they’re married, from c.w. to white-collared men–they’re all the same. Most of the time, what does their thinking for ‘em is the thing three feet below their brains. I wish I could videotape their folly & ship it anonymously to their wives & lovers & daughters.
9.99 times out of ten, men would follow with their eyes, women who get off the jeepney. They would steal glances at the girl with a plunging neckline. They’d pretend to check something on their arms only to use their peripheral vision to look at a woman’s chest or exposed thighs.
Most men are pathetic. Some of them are just slaves to their gender. Some overdid the opposite & well… decided to be homos.
Don’t get me started on gay people. If they’re your friend you love ‘em; but if they’re strangers they can get obnoxius.
viva la vida
Monday, March 15, 2010It was right then that I started thinking about Thomas Jefferson on the Declaration of Independence and the part about our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And I remember thinking how did he know to put the pursuit part in there? That maybe happiness is something that we can only pursue and maybe we can actually never have it. No matter what. How did he know that? ~Christopher Gardner in The Pursuit of Happyness
Common knowledge: the world is a fucked up place. The rich & famous will get to that point in their lives when they will envy the common man’s privacy & anonymity; whereas, three quarters of the world is drooling over money & fame. We will always be in a state of malcontent. How many more celebrities & daughters of tycoons & biz moguls, wasting their lives away–publicly–, do we have to endure? And why, as a common onlooker, do we feast on them & their private lives? All boils down to the phenomenon of malcontent, of boredom. A need branches out & become wants. Abundance is flaunted, thrift is not a way to live, not if you’re a celebrity. $20,000 plane rides, & dinners, & apparel. Don’t tell me you pay that price for quality & comfort; in fact, the price is tagged on superfluity. I believe the law of conspicuous consumption should be studied under Psychology, as it is studied by economists.
We are insatiable. We can only pursue happiness. Maybe we can’t HAVE it, because our nature denies us to claim it. Perhaps, at the end of it all, we don’t deserve to be happy.
thought clouds; puff puff
Friday, March 12, 2010I can’t believe that Vera Wang is 60. It’s a good thing she maintains that insanely straight jetblack hair.
* * *
For your comedic dose today, check out The Dumbest Things Beauty Queens Have Ever Said here.
* * *
I hate Blake Lively. Only because she’s abnormally gorgeous.
the veto tour project
Monday, March 8, 2010Itinerary for my target 5-day vacation with Veto R
Cagsawa Ruins
Lignon Hill
Spring resorts/pool
Gaisano, Embarcadero, LCC
Buraguis, Chapel
San Mig islands
Spring resorts, night swimming
Colonial Grill & Gasthof
Biggs Diner
Small Talk cafe
Ask momma to cook:
Pancit Bato
Dinuguan
Prospas/lugaw
Sotanghon
Paksiw na Pata
Visit these campuses & if we are denied admission to the premises, pretend to be a couple inquiring on their child’s possible enrollment:
DWCL
BU
University Homes
flippin’ pages, munch punch, & whatever else
Poor budgeting skills equals no Alice in Wonderland [3D] treat this weekend. I’ll just have to endure people around me buzzing about it, FB posts quoting the Red Queen, etc.
* * *
I set the alarm at 4am this morning. I don’t think I missed it, I think it didn’t go off. We made it for the 7:20am flight, waking up at 6am. Don’t ask me if I took a bath. I brushed my teeth. Sometimes, that should be enough.
* * *
Scouring Booksale at LCC in Legazpi, I was in glee as I grabbed copies of:
The Hours|Michael Cunningham @ P45
My Life in France|Julia Child @P10 (yes, a meager ten pesos for a hardbound edition)
The Bell Jar|Sylvia Plath @P115
I gave The Hours copy to Jonna & then we headed to this cool gift shop, oddly situated in Daraga. (The neighboring shops aren’t as trendy). It was, surprisingly a haven of chic apparel, bags, accessories & gift ideas. I had my eye on 3 out of 5 items I scanned off the shelf. Holy mother of Coco Chanel, I was so much in love with this grey bag, leatherette material; this hand-painted sneakers, the grey ankle boots, the studded flats, the cool printed tees…
Bummer, I only have enough moolah for sustenance. I wish i could just flip a switch in my body & I won’t need food to function.
Shop name: Hearts & Crafts - HNC.
* * *
We had dinner at the Colonial Grill. It’s fast becoming one of my fave munch punches because of the Tinutong-flavored ice cream. [I still have to muster enough gastronomic courage to try the Malunggay-flavored & the Sili-flavored ice cream. negotiations with my taste buds are underway]
Enough of the material girl alter, here’s the real Kettie Koala kickin’ in.
Let’s talk about The Hurt Locker.
It rocks.
Good job K. Bigelow, J. Renner & the gang.
* * *
Back then I sometimes had trouble remembering names; even celebrity names. On Hugh jackman’s pre-Logan fame, I mix up his name like Jack Hughman.
when I told this story to my V(R), he suggested a mix-up of Nicole Kidman– KidNi Coleman. And I’d laugh each time it crosses my mind. Thanks V!
(I also got this dyslexia on this name: Ross Gavindale ~ Gavin Rossdale) lol!
* * *
I just love the Robert Downey Jr. - Tina Fey presentors partner-up.
* * *
Mom baked banana cake topped with almonds AND walnuts (nuts purchased in Qatar possibly shipped from elsewhere & brought here by Ate Tin. my new friends at the office loved it. Too bad we didn’t have enough time; I told Mom I’d teach her how to blog. It’d be cool for her to post about her baking powers, I just tipped her to never reveal her secrets
V (R) loved mom’s banana cake! yey.
* * *
Back to work, err… training… err… Free surfing minus the *goodstuff.
* otherwise known as Facebook.
Tatou trivia
Wednesday, March 3, 2010French actress Audrey Tatou is in the habit of photographing every reporter who interviews her.
Tautou turned around, pulled a small camera out of her bag and told the assembled scribes: “I hope you don’t mind, but I do this with every interview. So I can remember.”
She took the photo, smiled and waved goodbye.
Source: The Straits Times, Singapore/Asia News Network
I think that makes her a very grounded person. I love these little details with celebs. Let’s not get sucked into the maelstrom of Hollywood’s fame+fortune formula.Really, I cannot, for the life of me, decipher why the general public is interested with Paris Hilton’s diamond-studded car or whatnot. back then, the real celebs were ‘artists’ & icons & people whoactually contributed something significant. But I digress…
Tatou was also quoted saying,“The attention was painful, like a tumour. As for the movies, I knew that I had to make the right choices – and that meant not doing what was expected of me,” after Amelie’s success & the onslaught of public attention. I just loved Amelie…and am easily falling in love with Audrey too.
i maintain that men are just sub-species & women are the real homo sapiens
if your name is Ramon & your last name is B–, & we’re acquainted…congratulations, you’re the exception to the rule.
malleable
Tuesday, March 2, 2010From E.L Doctorow’s editorial (2004)|Easthampton Star
The president we get is the country we get. With each president the nation is conformed spiritually. He is the artificer of our malleable national soul. He proposes not only the laws but the kinds of lawlessness that govern our lives and invoke our responses. The people he appoints are cast in his image. The trouble they get into, and get us into, is his characteristic trouble. Finally, the media amplify his character into our moral weather report: he becomes the face of our sky, the conditions that prevail.
~I’m not a registered voter. At age 24, that’s really embarrassing. But this here is a very good piece & my man Doctorow has got it down to a science. read the full article here.
the weekend flick weather report
Monday, March 1, 2010The flicks we copied from Ate Tin’s Dell Inspiron mini were a disaster. If you’re flippin’ through DVDs I warn you not to even bother with I Love You, Beth Cooper & Four Christmases.
I just don’t get it.
Duval, Voight, Witherspoon…even for Vaughn that was god-awful. Four Christmases has a weak plot & poor dialogue, tied by an exhausting pace. And I’ll say this again, my stand on bad movies is that IF THEY HAD USED THE PRODUCTION MONEY TO FEED THE HUNGRY IT WOULD’VE MADE MUCH MORE SENSE.
ILYBC was just as bad. Once you figure out it was gonna take that almost-funny pattern until three quarters of the film it’s just dull.
The good find from Ate’s drive was the 4th season of ABDC. Represent!
* * *
Can I just say that the NAIA Terminal I is so… decrepit. The Legazpi City Metro Integrated Transport Terminal (for buses & Filcabs) is far better than that (part of the) airport.
* * *
Ok, I’ve reached my quota on complaining.
Over & out.
vai con duole
This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.
Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don’t need. We’re the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our great war is a spiritual war. Our great depression is our lives. We’ve all been raised on television to believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars, but we won’t. We’re slowly learning that fact. And we’re very, very pissed off.
~Fight Club
crossbody
Wednesday, February 24, 2010The trouble with anticipating your next paycheck is that whatever remaining cash you have, you feel entitled to spend it to the last cent. I should seriously consider changing my pov on that. I need to start looking into my financial health. Over three years as an employed person, I still don’t have a savings account. If I die on the job, I’d burden my family with expensive memorial services. [Another One Bites the Dust~requiem] Oh man, I’d hate for that to happen. Jeez. how can I crossover if the last thought in my head is regret over money I never earned, or rather, saved?
On that note, I’d like to justify my need for a new bag.
The last one I bought from F&H was tagged PhP900 but I got it for PhP300 less. that was sometime last year. it’s beginning to peel off on the parts where the handles are attached. I can still use it, but it doesn’t really go well with corporate wear. It brings to mind a scene from Gilmore Girls where Lorelai says to Luke: ‘that’s not a bag, that’s a rag tethered together by dust.’
I browsed online & this caught my eye:
I asked ate Tin if she can check if they have this model in Qatar. i hope they do. and more than that, I hope I can afford it. Haha!
Adams, Streep, Ephron
I googled up these pieces of info succeding my after-shift movie dosage; last night/rather, at 2am we watched Julie & Julia–from the same writer/director who gave us When Harry Met Sally, You’ve Got Mail & Sleepless in Seattle.
~Amy Adams stands 5′3″ She’s 35 but looks anything but. I first saw her on ‘Enchanted’
~Julia Child stood 6′2″; Meryl Streep is only 5′6″ tall. Jane Lynch, (the cunning Sue Sylvester in Glee) plays Julia’s sister, Dorothy.
~Lynch is a gigantic 6ft flat.
weekend reels
Monday, February 22, 2010Avatar
Genre: Sci-Fi
Director: James Cameron
Cast: Sigourney Weaver, Sam Worthington, Zoe Saldana
It’s Complicated
Genre: Comedy
Director:Nancy Meyers
Cast:Meryl Streep, Steve Martin, Alec Baldwin, John Krasinski, Lake Bell
Over our unexplained fresh addiction to Cheese Curls we watched these flicks on our waking moments. I’m loving the eat-sleep-catch a movie-routine.
autumn rhythm
Friday, February 19, 2010 If we had autumn, it’d be as beautiful as that: a multitude of leaves escaping and falling on little hands and heads. These children finish their lunches hastily and heads to the open courts lined with trees. The winds were incessant, so was their laughter.
They were to be scolded by the homeroom teacher, what with all the soiled uniforms, sweat, & hair in disarray. They were to be lectured on Religion, and how, by believing that you can wish upon a leaf caught before its fall, you are insulting God.
The teacher will not think of the consequence of her words.
The children will be men, and know the meaning of crisis.
bottom of the food chain [repost]
Where do the roaches go?
My shoes are wet from the rain,
soaked socks to airdry on a drafty September morning.
The rain has the clemency of a typhoon, but it never was reported. Where was I? Oh, the roaches
that merrily crawl
in & out of the sort-of sewers in the eskinita
I tread every night to work, where do they
go when it rains?
We are a nation of lychnobites. Poor countries reverse
their clocks & aim for wealth, at the expense of
health,social life, slumbering in a makeshift night.
Where do the roaches go in the morning?
Off to a dark crevice; manufacturing
nighttime. In a curtained room,
like myself.
~New job, taking the mid-shift now.
Is that progress?~
down
Tuesday, February 16, 2010Regina is always in my head. How can I possibly think up a poem?
There has been a general shortage of literary brainfarts, forgive me. I have flashes of scenes from a movie, morsels of lines from a song, and it’s so beautiful & painful these pangs of borrowed vision & breathed words… I am overwhelmed & I can’t function this way.
I’m feeling down. It’s the not knowing that kills me.
* * *
I run the water very very very hot
And then I fill the sink to the top with bubbles of soap
And then I set all the bottle caps I own afloat
And it’s the greatest voyage in the history of plastic
`Music Box-Regina Spektor
What if there’s nothing more to us?
We’re just carbon-based.
We’re just pixie dust.
What if life is a magic trick?
Some quick slight of hand just to make us think.
What if consciousness can’t expand
And we fool ourselves with absurd demands?
What if there is no point at all?
We just grow up to fade away.
~Skin & Bones|Motion City Soundtrack
I had a dream
Crispy crispy Benjamin Franklin came over
Baby-sat all four of my kids
~Chemo Limo|Regina Spektor
Somewhere between the cobblestone floor and the slated wooden ceiling
Cuddling my semi-automatic, what a very fuzzy feeling
Oh…there’s nothing like emptying a cartridge at the sun
`Uh-merica-Regina Spektor
It went from no good to fucked up and over.
a total distortion of lifelong disorders,
barreling headfirst through fresh open wounds.
This, I was not used to.
~Worker Bee|Motion City Soundtrack
So we made our own computer
Out of macaroni pieces
And it did our thinking
While we lived our lives
It counted up our feelings
And divided them up even
And it called our calculation
Perfect love
~The Calculation|Regina Spektor
If I stand too close I might fall in
But if I’m too far gone I’ll never win
If you believe in me I might just want to spend some time with you again
I’m afraid I tend to disappear into an anxious state when you draw near
There is no reasoning it’s quite a silly thing
But it’s the way I’ve been for years
So I will understand if you don’t stay
They say I’m great at first but then the magic fades
Into an awful hue of dismal views and pessimistic attitude
All this distance
Years of sweet resistance
Swirling over head
Like angry clouds of discontent
~Stand Too Close|Motion City Soundtrack
Outside the cars are beeping out a song
Just in your honor
And even though they do not know it
All mankind are now your brothers
And as the cathedral has spoken
Wishing well to all us sinners
And where the sight grew silent
Til next year’s big human winner
~Human of the Year|Regina Spektor
It’s like a bad dream, something from the back of a magazine
Black and white and cheaply put together
Like a slasher film
I’m torn in opposite directions
The plot sucks but the killings are gorgeous
~Pulp Fiction|Motion City Soundtrack
Let’s get a silver bullet trailer
And have a baby boy
I’ll safety pin his clothes all cool
And you’ll graffiti all his toys
I got a perfect body
But sometimes I forget
I got a perfect body
Cause my eyelashes catch my sweat
~Folding Chair|Regina Spektor
I’m inside your mouth now
Behind your tonsils
Peeking over your molars
You’re talking to her now
And you’ve eaten something minty
And you’re making that face that I like
And you’re going in, in for the kill, kill
For the killer kiss, kiss for the kiss, kiss
~Ode to Divorce|Regina Spektor
the genius of spektor
Thursday, February 11, 2010“Consequence Of Sounds”
My rhyme ain’t good just yet, My brain and tongue just met,
And they ain’t friends, so far, My words don’t travel far,
They tangle in my hair, And tend to go nowhere,
They grow right back inside, Right past my brain and eyes
Into my stomach juice Where they don’t serve much use,
No healthy calories, Nutrition values.
And I absorb back in The words right through my skin
They sit there festering inside my bowels
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
Got a soundtrack in my mind, All the time. Kids-
Screamin’ from too much beat up And they don’t even rhyme,
They just stand there, on a street corner, Skin tucked in
And meat side out and shot, And I’d like to turn them down
But there ain’t no knob. Run into picket fences
Not into picket lines. All this hippie-shit for the 60’s
And another clich© for our time. But, But a one of these days your heart
Will just stop ticking, And they sorta just don’t find you till your cubicle is reeking.
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
Ahh ah ah ah ahh ah ah ah
Did you know that the gravedigger’s still Gettin’ stuck in the machine
Even tough it’s a whole other daydream. It’s another town it’s another world,
Where the kids are asleep, where the loans are paid And the lawns are mowed.
Whad’ya think? All the gravediggers were gone?
Just cause one song is done There’s always another one,
Waiting right around the bend, Till this one ends,
Then it begins Squeaky clean, then it starts all over again.
The weather report keeps on Tossing and turning,
Predicting and warning, And warning and warning of,
Possible leakage from news publications and, Possible leakage from news TV stations.
That very same morning right next to her coffee She noticed some bleeding and heard hollow coughing and
National Geographic was being too graphic, When all she had wanted to know was the traffic
“The worlds got a nosebleed” it said “And we’re flooding but we keep on cutting
The trees and the forests!” And we keep on paying those freaks on the TV,
Who claim they will save us but want to enslave us. And sweating like demons they scream through our speakers
But we leave the sound on ’cause silence is harder. And no one’s the killer and no one’s the martyr
The world that has made us can no longer contain us And profits are silent then rotting away ’cause
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds.
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds.
Ah ah ah…
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds



