I miss this

How I miss blogging. But life's too complex to be reduced to words.

Blurred emotions

Sometimes, if not oftentimes

I rush to the convenience

Of blurred dreams and

Hazy visions

To see that your eyes

Are neither black nor brown.

 

Veiled in memory’s mist

I’m convinced.

You’re near. Breathing.

Shivering, I curl and clutch

The blanket that once

Bordered your flesh

And mine.

 

I smell you now.

Allow me the indulgence of

Sweet musky sweat

That engulfed me one night.

Leaving me wanting.

Waiting. Broken.

 

Now, you’re a sepiaed print.

Faded by bitter rain

Only a lover’s eye can

Shed.

 

 

 

$20,000 dinner

I don’t know if you’ll find this interesting, but was the conversation I had with a very opinionated friend over a his Facebook note regarding Pres. Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s $20,000 dinner in New York that suffered the criticism of Bishop Deogracias Iñiguez Jr., the chairman of Permanent Committee on Public Affairs of the Catholic Bishops' Conference of the Philippines. The prelate reportedly sad that "It is outrageous if it would come out that they used public funds." My friend apparently talked about the concept of the separation of the church of the state, on that note I started to comment that:

 

Me: (My friend) you're taking the concept of the separation of the church and the state far too literally and with air-tight definition. That separation clause mean that the church is not allowed to meddle with the policies of the civilian government, however, that separation do not prevent the church, like any other institution for that matter, to seek accountability, point out corruption, and ask relief. Is it wrong for Iniguez to point out that our glorious president spent $20,000 for dinner! I don't think so. I find that dinner, to use your words, disgusting, stupid and arrogant and a betrayal to the Filipino people whose majority can only imagine a decent meal. whether it is from her own pocket or that of the government, i don't make a distinction, because there is no distinction. she reeks corruption. $20,000 for dinner, for how many people? say 50 at most? and in manhattan? still, i find it shocking and unconscionable.

 

My friend: I would rather believe that my idea about the separation of the state and the church is not construed as what you say it is.

 

Firstly, I wasn't able to mention the word separation in my post (I used cmd+f on a Mac) ergo I wasn't pointing at the constitutional segregation of power between them.

Second, P1,000,000 is a valid dinner for a President. I would already beg your pardon if I may for I would now be assuming that you are thinking that the President should emanate how poor, some people think, their country should be. I tend to disagree with my own assumption of your supposed idea. The President, using her own personally money as I believe it be, has all the right to dispose of it in a any worthy manner she deem be exact.

Third, our own judgements are clearly blurred by our own biases albeit it is not recommended but I know it is generally the reality. However, divine as I consider myself in the context of my own judgements, I see that what I believe in is of clearer

 

My friend: view towards what is deemed right and just.

Fourth is the fact that the church, with all it's power, should be apprehensive to utilize, to a certain degree of affection towards it's most holy and sacred image, such ploy of lambasting criticism.

 

Lastly, as guardians of morality and as citizens of this country, which should weigh more? I know. They have rights. They have the freedom to express themselves. But first and foremost is the fact that they are responsible towards the people AND towards the church that they represent. With such vulgarity and open dissidence towards the President of the country that they serve, tell me, where is compassion, understanding, tolerance, and the virtue of their faith in it?

 

errata:

 

"The President, using her own personally money as I believe it be, has all the right to dispose of it in ANY worthy manner she deem be exact."

 

Me: Funny. But I can't find it in my heart to believe that that was her money. She can fool COA. That's not my problem. Calculate her salary and the prohibition of government officials to enter into business and I invite you to think that she could not by any means afford a $20,000 dinner. Not during her term of office. Where did that money come from? Enlighten me.

 

And what separates her and her entourage from the rest of her people who suffers unimaginable poverty? Does her office give her the license to splurge? Time and again, the Supreme Court challenges government officials to live frugally for the reason that the more often than not the grandeur of public office is always successful in tempting officials to steal public money.

 

My friend: In this point, you are now assuming that she is stealing. but if try to think about it, time and time again, isn't she richer than both you and I combined? Isn't she richer than the people who are commenting here combined? With only P1,000,000 spent for diner, would that really hurt her? I hate to admit it but as far as my family and my financial status is concerned, we won't be able to reach half of hers.

 

What separates her and her entourage from the people? Nothing. But it doesn't mean that they should suffer to eat a chili dog on the sidewalk of times square if they can afford to spend P1,000,000 for just a pair of shoes.

 

"Assumptions and Presumptions are both lies for they are twins."

 

Me: There are many times that I find myself disagreeing with the positions of people in the church. But in this case, I salute the church for not turning a blind eye against blatant corruption manifested by $20,000 dinner. Faith is dead when it remains abstract and cannot be animated into action.

 

Me: In the kingdom of the blind there is a one-eyed king. I suppose, I just don't belong in this kingdom.

 

My friend: I have always been a great supporter of the Church. But i was dismayed when I proclaimed this morning that I'm a Muslim.

 

The beauty of the Church is that it doesn't worry itself about what is physical but about what is holy and divine. The Church exists for salvation. And by further criticizing the acts of the people they deem evil, they are already punishing the ones that Christ tried to rescue from eternal damnation.

 

So tell me, in which part, again, do you see compassion, understanding, tolerance, and the virtue of their faith in it?

"In this world of utter darkness, when everything we believe in is challenged. All we have left is the faith that our beloved Church is protecting. But what if the one protecting our faith is in itself rotting from the core? Wouldn't we be mere faithfuls? Vulnerable for we are not protected? For our protectors deem it more necessary to speak it's mind rather than do it's job?"

 

-TPLVB

 

Me: when you see your child running towards the cliff, wouldn't you admonish him? when you see your government running amok and in disarray, would just sit at a corner and wait until everything come tumbling down. be my guest. be understanding. be tolerant. be compassionate. do not criticize. be passive. be silent.

 

My friend: Now I believe that you are not worthy of what you just placed here. I know that you are more than this. That you know that we don't limit ourselves to mere impulse. That our tongues aren't vipers that can just strike without restraint for there is just that need to strike.

 

Compassion doesn't mean negation. Nor does tolerance mean abandonment. Neither does understanding is construed with blindness. Do it like Mother Teresa. Do it like Pope John Paul II. People who doesn't need the ire nor the hate towards reaching their goals.

 

(I know this doesn't really sound like me, but you know how DEMOCRATIC I can get.)

 

This was just our part of the conversation. There are other people who said their pieces, but I am not at liberty to include them. Anyway, I am tempted to make a comment regarding my friend’s last statement, but prudence tells me otherwise.

 

So there, I rest my case.

I have fallen in love

I have fallen in love 

With the same woman three times 

In a day spanning nineteen years 

Of tearful joys and joyful tears  

I loved her first when she was young 

Enchanting and vibrant, eternally new 

She was brilliant, fragrant 

And cool as the morning dew 

I fell in love with her the second time   

When first she bore her child and mine

She’s always by my side 

The source of my strength 

Helping to turn the tide   

But there were candles to burn 

The world was my concern 

While our home was her domain

And the people were mine 

While the children were hers to maintain 

So it was in those eighteen years and a day 

Till I was detained, forced in prison to stay 

Suddenly she’s our sole support

Source of comfort, our wellspring of hope 

On her shoulders fell the burden of life   

I fell in love again with the same woman the third time 

Looming from the battle her courage will never fade 

Amidst the hardships she has remained 

Undaunted and unafraid 

She is calm and composed 

She is God’s lovely maid  

- by Benigno Aquino Jr. for Cory Aquino written at Fort Bonifacio on Oct. 11, 1973 on the occasion their 19th wedding anniversary.

Cory Aquino

Former Philippine President Corazon Cojuangco Aquino(January 25, 1933 – August 1, 2009, the woman who made the color yellow more meaningful to the Filipinos is dead.

Glee

I'm into You.tube nowadays oftentimes listening to Schubert's Ave Maria or some pieces of Rachmaninoff or Tchaikovsky. Until I found this from some blog, totally different from what I am looking for and my general taste on music. I find it funny (like I was fascinated with the Wondergirls). I should do this sometimes.

Wondergirls

Aren't they cute?

Keeping it locked

I don't know. But I think I'm releasing too much sex hormones nowadays (I think this is the body's response when you don't have it). Ahem. Yesterday, someone wanted to spend time with me in the afternoon in bed. The night after that, I received a weird cellphone message asking me where I was. I told the person I was at home. Apparently, the reason was similar to that of the former.

But I got to think, for once in my life, I'm not doing it just to make it convenient for some freaks to find release. The choice is far from keeping with a moral yardstick, it's about self preservation. So yeah, I'm keeping it locked.

Fingers crossed.

 

Frank McCourt

Frank McCourt (August 30, 1930 - July 19, 2009), famous raconteur, teacher and Pulitzer Prize winning author best know for his novel Angela's Ashes died.

The week that was

Of course there will be pictures that I will post later. T'was my birthday on the 15th, and it was a blast. As usual I never planned to celebrate it (I can't afford such luxury) but the insistence of friends mandated me to face the fact that again, I'm a year older. Getting older is not a scary proposition though. It's just the thought that we are running out of time to achieve what we want to achieve and enjoy it long enough.

I spent my birthday working. After work, I headed to school where my law classmates gave me a quick debut (people greeted me with roses), a picture frame with well wishes and a chocolate cake. After that, my superiors treated me for dinner at the Loft. Charles, a Loft insider, insisted on footing the bill. So I had lengua, a slice of cake, and Cointreau tonic. I didn't have time to digest my dinner because the Brilliant Bums were waiting in a hotel room in Club Ultima where we had Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot over peanuts. And yes, Vudu and Formo gave me my favorite Belgian chocolate cookies from Don Merto's. The day after, Parklane International Hotel delivered a cake.

So there, I think I'm well loved.

Changes

I love Mara. Just as I love this bunch of people who ridiculously call themselves Brilliant Bums (I always find the group name rather disturbing, but when you're part of the group you just have to get used to it and even learn to love saying it.)

This post was supposedly a reply to a comment she made regarding the blog post below this. A part of it she said:

"what i find saddest about the distance is that i don't get to see the little changes in you and how they happen. but even though you're always slightly different than the jello i know when we meet... i still see the old jello." (Retained in its original form).

Sounds like a lola who just came from the States who saw her apo for the first time after decades of blurred memories. Then she continued:

"and that makes me happy."

That's the part when I get to start thinking. What is this little changes she's talking about?  I'm not quite sure. Is it a way of saying that I was better before than I am now? (Kidding.)

Sure, many things have changed. Hair color. Choice of clothing. And I don't get to wear rubber slippers as I often did way back in college, among many other things. (Let's keep the change in mindset to save my face.)

Yes Mar, I've changed. We've changed. And sometimes the change comes very surprising. But ultimately, what makes it interesting is that when we share ourselves--as we did in the past and as we do it now--we share it without wearing a mask, without pretense.

And that's why, I think, you said you still see the "old" Jello that makes you happy.

To Siberia

I'll adopt April Rama's concept. Tomorrow will be the first anniversary of my 23rd birthday. Don't ask why I start with 23, I just learned about that concept. And don't ask what's with tomorrow, because apparently, the world will still turn unless a comet strikes this civilization dead.

And unless my fortune allows me to purchase a yacht by tomorrow, then I'm obliged to throw a champagne party.

That's all. I repeat my statement I made a year ago: I'll be in exile. This time, no one will find me.

That's all.

Too much information

It's not that I hate computers. Machines, generally just don't work well with me. I consider myself more of a crafty than a techy person. But as they say, if you can't be googled (yeah, it's a verb now) you don't exist.

So yesterday, I had a problem uploading a Michael Jackson video from youtube.com. Thanks to Denver who was chatting in Facebook, who I obliged to give me a step-by-step instructions to get that MJ video on my blog. And I successfully did. Imagine dealing with html language? It was a horror!

Anyway, talking about Facebook, and Twitter, and there is another one Charles (a Loft DJ-cum-events-organizer) told me about (I'll ask him again this Saturday), they're quite scary if not a cause of concern because they give way too much information. From people's breakfast, to their romantic sagas, to whatever things imaginable. It's scary how people tend broadcast themselves too much with little concern for self-preservation. Me not excluded.

But sigh! Isn't it inherent in every human soul to solicit a confirmation of its existence?

Michael Jackson

If one claims that he belongs to the later part of human civilization, then he is not exempted from Michael Jackson and Madonna. But the latter is still living and is still fighting for her youth, so I'll dedicate this blog post to the former. Honestly, I'm not really a fan. I don't fancy his moonwalk. And don't even start talking about his nose or the absence thereof. But you see, he's one of those whose music just pierces your soul (well some of his songs did). I like Ben, Heal the World, but my favorite is this:

Lunch at Marco Polo

This will just be a quick post, before I head on to Loft tonight to talk about their upcoming whatnots. As if the world really cares what I'm doing. But yeah, whatever, got to keep this blogging fire well firing!

A days back, I got a weird invitation from Marco Polo Plaza Cebu for their Champagne Series. Weird in the sense that I haven't got any invitations from that hotel for ages, perhaps since the last communication staff left. Back to the Champagne Series, it isn't about Champagne. (Although we drank Champagne during the media gathering lunch.) It's about bringing world class talents to perform in Marco Polo. Like reviving the days when talents like Varga and Borja was celebrated in that same place.

Anyway, we had great lunch. Jude Bacalso, who always fanned spirited conversations provided the entertainment. Here's the menu:

Sampling of Prosciutto & Mango

Beef Carpaccio and Tuna Tartar

Seafood Bisque with Chicken and Basil Quenelles

Pesto Seared Prawns and Melon with Sambucca Yoghurt and Arugula

Teriyaki Seared Salmon Fillet with Wasabi Aoili, O'Brien Potatoes, Grilled Asparagus and Mango Chutney

Chocolate Trilogy

Friandise 

and Tea

Fancy lunch eh!?

Moving on

Two nights in a row I've been out with Jumar and his friends. The other one was whining about his beau the other night over bottles of beers. I told him he has so much of a feminine psyche that only made things a little complicated. You know me, I'm no bullshit when I'm drunk as most drunk people do (I know of some who turn into fugly drama queens with alcohol, which I sometime take). 

Last night, we hanged-out again. This time, he's calling yet another guy just right after telling me that he and his ex-beau officially called it off. They lasted two weeks. I think.

Today they're dating. And that's what I call moving on. 

That's all.

I'm back!

As I said in my Cbox, I'm back after years in blogging Siberia. I think I like my new blog template. It matches my hair color. So I'm sticking with it for as long as I can. Mara and Michelle has long been pleading people to resume blogging. As you very well know, I stopped blogging for a while because I messed up with my layout and it looked terrible. It looked oh so third world and I don't think redundancy is a cool idea. 

So I think I'll give you some updates about my life.

Work. What can say? Although I'd like stay at home reading a good book, listening to Mozart or Rachmaninoff while eating Food for the Gods (this very special cake baked in heaven and served in that restaurant in Hilton Cebu Resort and Spa) and sipping English tea, I can't because I don't even have money to have my laundry done. We just had our twice in a year marketing conference the the Hilton, which was three days of non-stop eating. I gained one pound that I instantly lost after I rejoined the famished real world. So that was fun. Pictures to be posted later.

School. After careful considerations of either to transfer to Silliman or to stop for a while, I'm now a second year law student. Sigh. 

Hair. I should write a longer post for this. Just last week I was invited to visit a newly opened salon in Strand Tower near Paseo in Mabolo, Cebu City (of course, but I'll have to put the city assuming that this blog is global). The owners, siblings Sheila Apawan Marylou Suson, were ultra nice that they did my hair, my nails, and my feet for free. Ruel Torres, the stylist, colored my hair first in deep merlot and then applied maraschino-cherry red highlights. That made me happy. And so I went out of the salon with the feeling that I'm wearing a halo. Everybody like it. But not the guard in the law and business school building. He said there is a standing school policy disallowing "neon" colored hair. I want to scream to him that "THIS IS NOT NEON IDIOT! THIS IS DEEP MERLOT WITH MARASCHINO-CHERRY RED HIGHLIGHTS! SAY THAT AGAIN! IDIOT!" But what can I do? He has a gun. The following day, I talked to the school officers and they told me to tone it down, which I did. But I still have my hair in red. More about this later.

Life? My skin is drying up for the lack of sleep. Since last week, I've been going home by 4:00 in the morning due to excessive drinking. I know, this is bad. But all famous people have a problem with alcohol. Not that I'm famous. 

That's all for now.

Bear with me

I'm experimenting. So don't panic if this blog acts a little weird. 

Twitter

I'm studying Twitter. I received several annoying emails before about this, and being technology-challenged as always, they failed to get my attention. But when Time magazine released its issue on 100 most influential people of the world this year and the creators of Twitter were included and the fact that Aston Kutcher wrote the article about them and Twitter (being a Twitter addict as he is), my views changed. I should study Twitter. I should get Twitter. And now, I'm twitting!

Equestrian dream

I've always wanted to do horseback riding. Really. It's a wish akin to that of me becoming a world figure. I remember staring at my cousin's picture of him at a horse's back.

Last June 2, 2009 some members of the Cebu media and local wedding planners were invited by the Unchuan family, owner of Cebu White Sands resort in Maribago, in their approximately forty-hectare farm, the Molave Wood Farm and Stables in Barili. We were treated to a feast prepared by no less than the charming Marissa Unchuan, a reputed figure in Cebu's culinary scene, set beside the farm's natural spring. We were joined by Paquito Unchuan ang Anya, their daughter. 

Aside from the breathtaking sight of almost a thousand mango trees, ostriches, sheep and fowls among other animals, what really caught my attention were the gorgeous Thorough Bred race horses. Their stance was amazing. They suggest power and beauty.

Of course, I did not let the day pass without hopping on to one. And she was Lady Starbucks in all her regal brown beauty. Horseback riding at last. It's like I did that in the past, like royals reviewing their troops, despite feeling a little fidgety after doing it again centuries later.

Hopefully, this will be the start of this blog's rejuvenation. I'm still working on the improvements.

Signing-on soon

The reason why I didn't have this blog updated since ante-deluvian age is that I find the layout disastrous, save for the fact that I don't have anything of value for humanity to write about. But there is something about blogging that allows my soul to breathe. There is something about making the world know of my daily struggles, joys and aspirations that seems therapeutic. Aside from that, it feels oh so good to know that I am read despite the fact that this blog is the Internet's version of Payatas.

Because of that, I shall either improve this blog's forsaken layout or transfer to another blog site for a fresh start. My problem with Blogger is its very limited template. I want to customize it a little bit more, but my computer skill is depressing. Perhaps I'll start by asking people around. Whatever is convenient. At this point, I need to study my options (as if this such a crucial decision to make). 

That's all for now.

I passed!

And so, Bantayan it was! I think I'd rather post a photo-essay something to do it justice. But the thing is, God is so good that when I checked my grades the day after Easter, I passed all my subjects! My Crim II grade just made it to the edge, so is my Oblig. But it's still a feat considering my reputation as an alcoholic, my countless absences and perhaps I am the only person in San Carlos Law without books whatsoever. Haha. That's all. This summer is amazing!

Summer yet again

Second semester just ended. At last! Now, I can really smell summer. I remember the scent of dry grass and the sight of bald acacias in Silliman. But this summer, let the fun be in Bantayan. I can't wait!

Thin

I hate it when people remark that I'm getting thinner. Heck! When was the last time you saw me gained weight? I know I'm skinny. I'm thin. I'm underweight. Whatever. But please, your body don't look good either!

Thirty seconds (or more) french kiss

I'm supposed to post another topic, but this is too juicy to put on hold.

Aiken, the consummate Brilliant Bum artist (from painting, fashion design, dance, music...the list goes on) will be on-stage tonight at the Woodward little theatre in Silliman University to render a 30-second (or more) french kiss for the play "Esprit de Corps" from the writer (I'm too lazy to google the name) of "Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros." Aiken said that its a one-act play with only two performers, meaning, with the guy he will "do" it with. Its a gay-story, for sure, about military comrades.

But OMG, 30-seconds! French kiss! The audience of course was in a delightful state of shock. How I wish I'm in Dumaguete back again.

Lola

Last Saturday, I went to the island paradise of Bohol, not to frolic along its beaches in cream shorts but to visit my ailing paternal grandmother who might be living the last of her days. She's 93, almost a centenarian.

Of her age, her memory is perfectly sharp. If not because of the accident that broke her bone somewhere, she could just be fine. Now, she's on bed. She finds it difficult to speak. 

But one thing is sure though. She was so happy to see me. Haha. I mean, she really called up my name and cried after seeing me--after three years. Apparently, I'm still the apple of her eyes. Haha. And I love her. 

We have a nurse!

Oh yes, before its too late. Every Brilliant Bum's heart swells with pride upon hearing the news that Lovely, Mutley, Gale (this girl has a lot of names) is now registered nurse! Congratulations deary!

Best dress

I disagree with Michiko. I still think that Penelope Cruz wore the best dress during the 81st Oscars. It's a Balmain vintage ball gown. I love the delicateness of the fabrics and the subdued richness of the cream-colored embroidery. So dreamy. Sigh.

Money, money, money

Just as I turned the television this morning, the screen flashed: 

NEVER SPEND YOUR MONEY BEFORE YOU HAVE EARNED IT. -Thomas Jefferson

It was like a splash of cold water. And for someone who has no financial education, it took me sometime to ponder on its wisdom. My life is always dictated by two very important dates. Fifteen and thirty. Those are the days of the month that I truly live. In between those, I'm dead!

Loft's penthouse

I'm not really a fan of Loft in Asiatown I.T. Park in Lahug. But last night was interesting.

After having some frenzied conversation over some bottles of beer at East, West in the The Walk (still in I.T. Park), Jaycee, Pau Rich, Michelle and me decided to go to the Loft. (Tina and Ren-Ren went earlier and Albert, Jaycee's beau had to report for work) I have to accompany Michiko to her apartment first because the belle apparently didn't know the Saturday night rule: Never go out with slippers on (even if its made entirely of malleable gold) not unless your mother sent you out to buy salt at the next door neighbor's sari-sari store. 

So Jaycee and Paulie went ahead. After Michiko and I braved the long walk, we went inside Loft's poorly ventilated interiors with its incredulously load sound system. No Jaycee and Paulie was in sight, until they "descended" after I texted them. The "guys" already had some fun at the Loft's penthouse. I never knew it existed. And I like the place. 

The comfortable couches are all on the sides, the interior is very industrial, and people just love to stay and gyrate on the big (I mean not so big) dance floor. The crowd is okay. There's a bunch of foreigners. And with the help of efficient ventilation (party goers are dragons in case they might have forgotten) the place could be better.