Monday, April 25, 2005

Endless #3 Is Playing A Game On Me

Last night I dreamt
That somebody loved me
No hope, no harm
Just another false alarm

Last night I felt
Real arms around me
No hope, no harm
Just another false alarm

- The Smiths, Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me

Last night I had one hell of a weird dream. I dreamt that an axe murderer who just got out of prison was gonna hack a friend of mine's head off using this big bad-ass axe. Apparently, my friend was the one responsible for getting him into prison (don't know how, don't know why, don't know anything, hey remember: this is a dream...) and from then on, the axe murderer vowed that it was his life's mission to make my friend's head a house ornament, in a poster-boy-of-Goth-style kind of way. We were inside a building that looked like one of those hospitals I've been confined to in the past, just waiting for the axe murderer to come and hack my friend's head off (instead of running our asses off to the police or something... turns out we're not that smart in the dream world.) Finally, dreadfully, the guy a.k.a. the axe-murdering ass arrived. He asked me to go to one of the other rooms in the building and leave my friend there with him so that he could finally do what he had set out to do. Of course, being the good friend that I am, I obliged to his request.

When I got to the other room, I found my other college friends there. They were all pretty anxious (so was I, since, you know, friend, other room, alone, axe murderer, seeks revenge) until finally the axe murderer went inside our room, which I took as a signal that he was already done with the hacking part. So I went to the other room to collect my friend’s body. I was (in the dream) so fucking freaked out because I was expecting to see my friend's body, minus head, as I slowly opened the door. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), once I got in the room, there was nothing to see except an unmade bed on a dusty floor and my friend's cell phone lying on it, no decapitated body, no blood, no nothing to tell me whether my friend lived through the axe murderer or not.

I woke up in a bad mood.

Speaking of Dreams, Neil Gaiman's Manila Trip has been confirmed! He'll be coming over July 8-12 Read here for more

The Philosophy of Buddha would tell us that attachment is the cause of misery. Would detachment then cause happiness? I find that hard to swallow. I’m too young to be detached and happy.

If you are someone who gets bored with beauty, then I suggest you stay away from Boracay. Tell you about some of my Boracay insights in a few days. I’ll also post some pictures of The Amazing Boracay Trip next time (most of our Bora pictures were taken using my cousin’s digicam, and since he’s gone back to Chicago, I’m just gonna have to wait for him to send us copies of the pictures.)

On a lighter note: Woohoo! Alonso wins in Imola! I was going for a McLaren win actually, but a Renault win isn’t too bad either… Fernando Alonso won the San Marino Grand Prix, doing a good job of holding off MS up to the checkered flag. Also, my team (team hellgod) remains at number one (as of this writing) in the ATP Fantasy Tennis Game! Getting Rafael Nadal(ESP) and Juan Carlos Ferrero(ESP) was a good decision as they’re doing pretty well (read: kicking ass) on the clay season. I’m banking on Roger Federer(SUI) and Mario Ancic(CRO) to hold my team up for the grass season. Woohoo!

Friday, April 22, 2005

From Boracay to Coron (well, sort of)

I just got back from Boracay last tuesday afternoon. Boracay is one hell of a beautiful place. Six days into it and I was still amazed at how beautiful and fine and white the sand was. But that's for a different post. The same night that I got back, we (my whole family, my cousin Kuya Ren who's having his vacation here from Chicago and his girlfriend, and my cousins and their parents) went to Gerry's Grill in Glorietta to have dinner together. We (mom, dad, me) came in about an hour late because we still had to wait for my dad to get back from the office (traffic was really bad ass, he was stuck in front of SM Southmall for twenty minutes). We (the cousins, siblings and me) were supposed to spend the night at their (cousins) place in Katipunan but I backed out since my back was aching (don't know why, must be the bed I slept in in Bora), my head was aching (could it be hangover??? Nah, I never get hangovers... I get hella drunk but I never get hangovers.) and I still had some other shit to do.

Yesterday (Thursday), I drove my parents to the domestic airport because they'll be flying to Coron, Palawan for a four-day vacation with my bro, his wife and some of their friends. I would've gone with them but I only had enough money for ONE summer trip, and I chose to go to Boracay instead. And I am happy to say that I do not regret that decision coz I had one hell of a good time in Bora (although it would have been better if I made it to both trips.) On our way back (I was with Kuya Ren and my sister) I almost crashed into this stupid ass FX taxi who stopped right in the middle of the road (although it was probably partly my fault since I was still kinda sleepy, it was about 5:30 in the morning then.) Good thing nothing untoward happened or else I would have been in deep shit with my Dad. He'll probably never let me drive again. So thank you, Lord. The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. On Saturday we're (cousins) planning to go swimming in this resort in Tayabas, Quezon. Another opporunity to bake my skin in the sun. Heh.

I'll talk about my Amazing Boracay Trip on my next post and I'll try to post pictures too, ASAP.
Till the next post.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

6 days in Boracay

I'm off to Boracay in a few hours (flight leaves 9:30 am)... be back on tuesday... hell, I sure am excited... can't wait...

But before I go have fun in paradise, just wanna extend my congratulations to the Most Outstanding Thesis Awardees, the group of April, Cla, Theresa and Bodie, and the Olympic Village group of Gino, Kristine, Fed and Prec. Great job guys! and I heard the project defense/presentation was one hell of a show too. Too bad I wasn't able to catch it. For a better read on the IT Thesis Gold Medalists, read this blog ->
Joanne: Presence

Some more congratulations: Congratulations to The College of Computer Studies for once again winning the Best College Day award! Man, do we own that award or do we own that award?? This year's College Day could not have been possible without Del, the CCS Day Head, and Katz, the Asst Head, as well as the Committee VPs Maine (Diva Diaries)
of Activites, Kentot of Marketing, Mico A. of Logistics, Mico G of Publicity, Finance VP Gino, and of course Cheska, our very patient Documentations Boss (hehe, sorry I wasn't too much help in doing the docus Cheska)...

Okay, that's all for now... Updates when I get back...

Tuesday, April 5, 2005

Preludes and Nocturnes, Pt. 2

Allow me to be sentimental.

Yesterday, I took the last three classes of my whole college life. Last. Three. Classes.

First Class:

I woke up late. Again. I set the small alarm clock I have on my side table to ring at 7:00 a.m. since my class starts at 9:20 a.m., and as it was the last class of the term for that course (Art Appreciation, btw) I sure as hell didn't want to be late. Again. (It was my first class every MWF so it stood as the sacrificial lamb for my other classes, I was probably on time for that class on about 7 or 8 occasions, 10 max, for the whole three-month term. On the otherhand, my presence in that class assured that I was not going to be late for the next classes since all I had to do was walk to the next building.)

Okay, lost again... Where was I... small alarm clock... right...

I'm not sure it's right to blame my own shortcomings on inanimate objects, but that small alarm clock is really the friggin culprit here. Its sole purpose is to sound the hell off and wake me up on the time I set it to alarm (okay, so that's two purposes. Okay okay so it's also supposed to tell the time. Three purposes, fine...) but for some reason, IT JUST DOESN'T. (It alarms, it just doesn't wake me up. It also tells the time, which is how I find out that it didn't wake me up.) Usually I'm just off my wake-up schedule by ten to twenty minutes, but since this is a (sentimentally) important day, Murphy's law kicks in and I wake up not at 7:10, not at 7:15, not even 7:30, but at 7-friggin-50 a.m. So typically, I came late for class. So fucking typical. But anywayz, when I got to class, only about 5 people were there (including my professor). Turns out there were no classes, we just had to pass the critical paper for Painting/Sculpture that was due that day and we can leave. So the last-three-classes day is now down to last-two-classes day.

Second Class:
The second class is for Literature. That day, we had to do a dramatic reading of the play "Ang Paglilitis ni Mang Serapio", which if I understand correctly, is a biting social commentary. On society. As social commentaries usually are.

If you read through the sleep-inducer that was my last post, you'd know that I'm not one who would easily turn away from potentially embarrassing moments. So when my groupmates asked me to be the one to read the Serapio part, wherein he was on the verge of going wacko and was aimlessly spitting random words (just like me when my sugar level is low), I accepted the offer. It wasn't as embarrassing as I thought it would be since each member of the class had to do a dramatic reading of at least one part of the play and the chances that there would at least be one more person who would deliver a relatively more embarrassing performance than me was in a way comforting.

End of second class. Our group got an okay grade for the reading. Last-two-classes day is now one-last-class day.

Third (and last) Class:
Biology 2, Environmental Science. We had to pass a project (the Flash presenatation I was talking about in the previous post) then take our final exam, a 50-item quiz where half of the questions were about topics I was encountering for the very first time. Nothing special really happened on this class. I finished the test in about 10 minutes, but stayed on my seat for about 6 minutes 18 seconds more (kidding, but more or less 7 minutes more) just sitting there. Staring at my paper, staring at my seatmate's paper (just to see what part he was on), looking at my other classmates, looking at the white walls, etc. I was just sitting there looking around (okay, here comes the sentimental part...) and then I decided to stand up and pass my paper, get my stuff, and get out of the class. And my one-last-class-of-my-whole-college life is now just another day I'm writing about on my blog. (Yep, that's it. That's the sentimental part. It's a blink-and-you'll-miss-it thing.)

Classes Over:
That's it. No more classes to attend (and be late for). No more getting bored and sleepy on boring and sleep-inducing lectures. No more days of regularly going to school. My classes are over, but I'm still not gonna graduate because of one more thing I have to finish (a topic I told myself I will never mention on my blog, so lets just leave it at that.) As I was on my way home, waiting for a bus in front of the Gokongwei Hall, some people I knew walked by and got on their rides that were waiting to take them home. Then it crossed my mind. I probably won't be seeing most of those people again. All the people who I knew but was never really friendly with (and there were a lot, with my personality), I would most probably lose touch with them in a couple of months. I'd probably never get the chance to talk to them ever again. And if I ever will, it will be probably be one of those rare occasions, and we'd talk just to be polite to each other. Which is sad if you really think about it.

I'm not someone who likes to look back at the past and wallow on my mistakes, or regret over what I should have done but didn't. But I gotta admit, if there was one thing I could have done differently, it would have been to try to establish a more solid personal relationship with all the people I met. Because I could just imagine, ten years from now, if I were to meet all these people again, only about two dozen would probably walk up to me and have a real conversation with me. Not that it's saddening... It's just... spilled beer worth feeling sorry for, if you get what I mean.

Okay, gotta end this sentimental bullshit now...

P.S. If I ever get this sentimental again, feel free to bitch-slap me...

P.P.S. Do me a favor, will ya? Help make me feel better. Promise to talk to me in 10 years.