WTF of the Day.

Okay, I don’t know if the source is true, or if this news is already months old and I’m just waaay behind my showbiz intriga. But I just read from Stir.ph that Manny Pacquiao will do a movie with this lady pictured below.

My first reaction was, of course, WHAT THE F*CK! I mean, I know Manny’s HUGE, like, he’s in the Times and Forbes list and all that, but I didn’t know he was that BIG that he can get someone like Nicole Scherzinger (did I spell that right?) to do a movie with him. Or maybe I have this the other way around. Maybe Nicole would get a lot more publicity for this than Manny. I really don’t know. The movie would be for a local Film Festival, so I really don’t get it. What’s more, can you imagine Nicole kissing Manny? And we know how Manny loves over kissing his leading ladies (remember Ara Mina?). It’s just so sad and hilarious at the same time. I dunno if I should be -> or be -> ^^.

It’s too much to handle. It’s like when uber popular Korean people decide to make movies in Pinas. It’s mind boggling.

Model Love Pt. 2

The weather sucks, and it’s hella cold. So, I was thinking, why not make things a wee bit hotter? Heh. Here are some of my favorite pictures from my favorite models of the moment. Enjoy!

Ash Stymest.

Sasha Pivarova.

Lily Cole.

Sean O’pry.

Double Trouble: Winnie Woolston and Josh Beech.

Daphne Guinness. Not exactly a model, but I think this spread was genius.

Daria Werbowy.

Marlon Teixeira.

Model Love Pt.1

Jessica Stam. The first model I fell in love with. I think seeing her pics was what made me into such a model/fashion fiend anyway.

Lily Cole. So alien-ish. But I love her.

Sean O’pry. He got discovered through Myspace. He’s awesome.

Andres Velencoso Segura. Y’all can thank me later.

Coco Rocha. She’s also weirdly fascinating. She’s not a great beauty, but she’s a very good model.

Generation Next? Luke Worrall, Ash Stymest, and Cole Mohr. These guys are taking the modeling world by storm.

The Kuot-Kuot Gang (or why I need a car, a lot of money, or a taser gun.)

If I’ve got lots of time (which is rare, since I take forever to change), I try to save on taxi fare by riding on jeepneys. My daily route for work is this:

From home, I ride a 07B (Banawa – Colon) and stop at Bo’s, near Cebu Doc. I cross the street and take a 14D for Ayala. From Ayala, I take a 62B for Banilad, where my new office is.

For a month now, nothing exceptional has happened except for this one time that I saw a woman using her laptop/notebook on a jeepney. I wanted to grab her laptop and smack her face with it. If the bitch wanted to get stabbed by a snatcher, she better do it in another f*cking jeepney. Other than that, my mornings were uneventful.

But last week, the 62B jeepney I was riding on was graced by the presence of the dreaded Kuot-Kuot gang. Their MO was simple. Use their huge bags as cover as their hands expertly rid you off your cellphone, wallet, or cash. The day before that, my boy and I were on our way to SM and a lady lost her wallet. She didn’t notice a single thing, and the Kuot-Kuoter even had the decency (or gall) to close her bag’s zipper. That’s how good they are.

So, back to my story. At first, I was blissfully unaware of the gang’s presence. I was listening to my music player while casually maintaining a conversation with an officemate. Then, a scuffle erupted at the far end of the jeepney. I saw a man knock a studen’t head with his fist, hard. It was only after two men with big bags disembarked that we found out that they were trying to the nursing student’s phone. Fortunately, they were unsuccessful. However, the incident left me scared as hell.

This morning, I saw the same men inside the jeepney. Fortunately, I was seated near the driver and was too far from them. I wanted to tell the other passengers about the danger. But after a few minutes, the men got off, apparently because the people inside the jeepney also noticed them.

My advice to others who read this is to be vigilant. The gang isn’t difficult to spot. They carry huge (but light or empty looking) bags. That’s the first give-away. They may look clean and decent, but don’t be fooled. Don’t sit near the exit, since they’re partial to that (I think so they can escape easier, or whatev). Make sure your valuables are hidden deep inside your bags. Don’t put them in your pockets.

As for me, I am more paranoid than ever. I have no idea what to do, aside from taking taxis all the time. Or maybe I should bike to work. God knows I need the exercise. Or maybe I should enroll in Judo class. I dunno. If anyone out there who is uber rich and has a car he wants to get rid of, you know, I’m just a message away. No, seriously, be careful you guys.

i owe it to myself
to breathe.
and to try to be happy.
i can allow myself
to feel fear.
and to sometimes lose control.
if i can no longer take it,
it is a gift to myself
to just cry
or break things.
no one should stop me.
sometimes,
i should consider
giving up, and not feel
guilty about it.

today,
i just want to walk
and never return.
never look back.
but it’s a dream, really.
i am stronger than this.

Wake Up Call.

Sometimes, I get too cocky. I know I’m good at what I do, but I forget that there are a lot of people better than I am. I’m so used to knowing I’m right, used to being the one who knew more. And being reminded that I am not the cream of the crop is both embarrassing and humbling. But I am glad that it happened. It just gives me more reason to be better. In the past, I would’ve wallowed in self pity. But there’s no time for that now. I cannot afford it anymore.

Look What I Found!

A week ago, my mom sent me on a perilous mission into the streets of Colon. I was tasked to locate a shop of dubious contents and talk to the menacing old ladies who tend it. From them, I needed to extract information of a highly classified nature. Of course, I was pumped up. Nothing like the thrill of adventure and possible danger to get me going.

Okay, I’m exaggerating. There’s nothing really “dangerous” about Colon now. But still, it’s downtown and I rarely venture anywhere near there because I am paranoid about getting held up (which actually happened once during my college years), but I digress. Also, my mom just wanted me to ask the owners of Cebu Thrift House about some items she wanted to buy.

I’ve actually been to the store a couple of times in the past and all I can say is that it’s heaven for bargain hunters. They sell used furniture, appliances, clothes, everything at amazingly low prices. But what really turns me on about the place is the sight of hundreds of books that fill up their shelves. The best part is that the books there cost less than a dollar. For a bookworm like me, going to the store is always a treat, and I always walk away with a dozen books or so.

However, the tricky part is finding good books. Although the books are segregated, the categories are limited to three: Romance, Fiction, and Non-Fiction, and more often than not, you’ll find some books are not where they’re supposed to be. So, patience, a lot of free time, and a seriously good nose (because it’s dusty in there, and I launch into a sneezing attack within minutes) is needed. Last week, I had none of the prerequisites, because one: Patience has never been my strong suit, Two: I was there on my lunch break at work so I had to hurry, and Three: I only have to think about “dust” in general and I start sneezing and having a psychosomatic asthma attack.

But I was not to be deterred. After I spoke to the kind (not menacing at all) ladies, I immediately went to the bookshelves and scanned the titles, hoping that I’ll find something really good. When I saw the book below, I actually shrieked. Here’s what I got for 40 pesos:

Isn’t it amazing? And to think, I was planning on buying the very same book at National Bookstore and I would’ve paid six times the price! The book was in great condition, too. A few minutes of scanning brought me another surprise. This time, it was this book’s title that jumped at me from the shelves. Price? 18 pesos:

My boi has been nagging me about this books for months. He says it’s really good. For 18 pesos, why not, right? And at bookstores, the price of the book is still around 300 pesos. So I saved a LOT. I also bought a book (30 pesos! Ha!) from one of my favorite authors, Dominick Dunne.

Dominick Dunne writes about the uber rich. He’s a contributing editor for Vanity Fair, and I’m really addicted to his books. They’re my guilty pleasure, I guess. I also bought my sister a romance novel, so that makes my total purchase to four.

My short trip to Colon wasn’t a waste at all. I got four awesome books without making a dent on my pocket. So, if you’re as addicted to books as I am, or you love bargains more than anything else, I suggest you head to the store right away. You’ll definitely love what you’ll find there.

I Return.

It’s been too long. Words don’t flow from me as easily as they used to. I hesitate now, when once, I wrote swiftly, fearlessly, about what I felt, what I knew to be true. Now, I write with more thought, careful of how my words would translate to whoever finds this secret place. I don’t know if this is better. I only know it is different.

A lot of things have happened in the time since I last wrote here.  In fact, I can say I’ve changed a lot since that time. No longer am I as carefree, as candid, as sure. I feel more cautious of happiness now. I found that, in the last few months, happiness was too fleeting to fully enjoy, a mere fantasy, and that always, reality never failed to rear its ugly head to remind me of all the things that are wrong in my life. Although I am not jaded, I find myself suspicious of anything that resembled something “good.” It saddens me, this change, and I am hoping, willing myself to believe, that it is not permanent.

Although “dreary” is perhaps the perfect word for how my life has been lately, I can say that it isn’t really that sad. There are constant bright spots in my life, like the proverbial lights at the end of tunnels,  that I will always be thankful for. Without them, I’d be lost.

So, here’s to me writing again. I’m going to try my best to keep this up and not disappear into oblivion once more.

Far From the Madding Crowd.

I have not seen the inside of a bar in months. Alcohol has become so alien to me, that during Sinulog, a few shots of gin had me singing and dancing like some virginal high school kid on his first drinking binge. My friends have become so used to me declining invitations for parties, night outs, drinking sprees that they’ve altogether stopped texting me, except for the occasional “Are you still alive?” text. My Friendster, Facebook, Multiply, and Myspace accounts are gathering dust and cobwebs. So are the blogs I used to keep and religiously update. I rarely go anywhere on my own, not even to Ayala or SM or even the nearest sari-sari store. I can’t send or reply to text messages without them being scrutinized first. In fact, I can’t do anything without asking permission. Period.

Am I in some sort of crazy, super-strict boot camp for 20-somethings with no direction in life, you ask? Have I decided that the real world is much too tedious and decided to quit it altogether and become a hermit instead? Have I found Nirvana in the hands of hundreds of pirated DVDs and 90s books I’ve stacked over the years and have just come to appreciate?

The answer is YES, but only for the last part. Pirated DvDs, Angela’s Ashes, and fantasy novels have become part of my daily life. Just now, I am discovering that Ned Pace of Pushing Daisies is cute, and I’d like to be Kristin Chenoweth’s BFF, if she’d have me. For the first two speculations, I’m glad to say that No, I’m not in some boot camp, and No, I have not given up on life no matter how much it sucks sometimes, or people no matter how douche-y some can be.

The simple answer is, I’m just in love.

I know it’s cheesy. It’s a cliche to the nth power. But it’s the truth. I have sacrificed the life I used to live, alienated the people I call friends, given up on things I used to enjoy, for love. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s worth it. I know I’m missing a lot. I’m not young, and if I didn’t get out there and go wild, I’d regret it. I miss my friends terribly, but they’ve assured me that they understand. I’m sure they said that when they thought this was a one month affair. Seeing that we’ve lasted seven months (and counting), they’ve given up on trying to coax me out of hiding.

The thing is, I actually like it. I like it that he tells me EXACTLY what he thinks or feels. He tells me EXACTLY what he expects from me. He says, “From now on, you’ll have to stay away from bars, drinking, all that sh*t. No more chatting, no more textmates.” He only allows me to go out when he’s with me or if it’s very important. The best part is that he keeps his end of the bargain. What I can’t do, he makes sure he never does, too. Our lives revolve around each other, and our families. This is a far cry from my relationships of yore. I’m not saying they were bad, only that focus seemed to be more on fun and freedom, not each other.

The truth is, I feel that this is what I need. I know it’s much too Stockholm syndrome sounding, or whatev. But I feel that he is a good influence on me. He’s very responsible, smart, caring, firm. And I badly need responsible, smart, caring, and firm in my life right now. I need to know where I’m going, and he’s actually helping me get there.

I’m aware that part of this need to always be aware of each other is due to insecurities, fear of loss, and other things that try new relationships. I’m confident that the time will come that we’ll both outgrow this. From this experience, we’ll emerge confident and sure of each other’s love.

I don’t know if one day, I’ll wake up with a broken heart, and one sore ego, having given up a whole LIFE just for him. But I won’t regret it. Because of him, I realized I can love this way, with everything that I am, and have. It’s a pretty humbling lesson for someone who thought that he’s got “loving” in the bag.

Enough.

I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been. The signs were right before my eyes, and yet, I kept on ignoring them, believing you instead. Your words were sincere, your delivery, flawless. Copious tears, check. Denial and indignation, check. Dramatic walk out exit, check. For your performance, you deserve a standing ovation, an Oscar, hundreds of acting awards. I have nothing to blame but myself. So pathetic. I quit. Love is not worth it.