Respite

Now that my subjects in Journalism are all majors (and one elective), my drive to write creatively and professionally has increased again. It’s the thought of managing a blog that’s dragging me down.

Frankly I’m finding it quite pointless to even manage one in the first place. Why should anyone give a damn if I slept for sixteen hours and woke up at 2am, had herpes and got dumped by my bueno-para-nada boyfriend? Well, at least why bother keep a personal blog and broadcast to the world of your personal life for perfect strangers to read?

Everytime I have the drive to start a new “professional” blog to have a theme of its own (e.g. cars, music, Hollywood, videogames, sex positions, et cetera), they always end up being personal blogs and contain about some tidbits of my life. Of course I wouldn’t make an emo out of myself and whine about the world being a big scary place.

Then again here’s this blog I found dedicated to bashing Crocs; that absurd and “the most unstylish footwear I’ve ever seen,” says a friend. I may not take these alien-looking slippers fancy but of course I’d definitely not waste time, emotions and web space to advertise its absurdity.

To each his own then.

Hair Care Clues

Although I had it yesterday, I just thought I’d say hello to October (and semester break) with a new ‘do. It made me wonder why many females with long hair in animé and video games often cut their hair to neck-level to instigate after going through something traumatic. Princess Garnet Til Alexandros XVII from Final Fantasy IX for example.

My hair is almost exactly at this length now.

I like my once long hair. Well not THAT long since it never reached my waist but it grew way past my shoulders. I asked Carlo for his opinion (who always admired my long hair). He just told me not to have it above the shoulders. Too late.

Like my new ‘do?

Originally planned to have it at Bench Fix Salon but the prices are outrageous and they’re too appointment-oriented. Plus the customers are mostly snotty blokes na pasosyal-sosyalan. That’s one of the few reasons why I don’t like going to Alabang Town Center other than the impractical shops.

Went to Going Straight Salon yesterday with my cousin Raph. Lucky the gay hairstylist didn’t attempt to milk my money out through sales-talking. I did slip in that I was merely a student with only a half-loaded ATM. In fact he was such a friendly guy that he did a good job with my hair.

I felt…new! The last time I had short hair was five years ago and now I feel like I’m fourteen again. Then I realized that the problem with long hair is it’s too high maintenance for me and I spend more time brushing it off my face than flaunting it. Plus it’s an extra waste of shampoo and time drying it in front of the fan.

I was expecting a set of mixed reactions from my classmates when I arrived at school earlier. Many said I should have just retained my long hair, quite a handful said I looked better while a few commented that both looked great. Shorty even said I look like Yuna from Final Fantasy X. I daresay more like Yuna from Final Fantasy X-2.

That’s funny. When I first had this ‘do I thought I looked like Kate Beckinsale in Underworld. Eventually I was a bit too explosive for Kate and thought of myself as Selphie Tilmitt’s (Final Fantasy VIII) existent counterpart.

All along I thought long hair was a fashion statement until I had it short. I feel more stood out now. Long hair is actually just a trend commercialized by shampoo products (bloody Rejoice). And why is it that when someone with waist-length hair cuts it short, people almost always comment that longer was better? Maybe because of the months (or even years) invested in growing it.

Why the fuss? It’ll grow back eventually.

Snap Collapse

Adventure is my middle name.
-Hiro, Lunar 2: Eternal Blue

Although I’d rather be lazing off on a Saturday, I took the only moment to finally get on with my photo essay. It’s my ticket to passing Photojournalism overall. I wouldn’t want to waste three units worth of tuition, almost P3,000 worth of photolab fee, a Canon AE-1 and dozens of rolls of film just to flunk the legendary Photojournalism and Event Coverage subject. It’s the first “big” major I’ve “advanced” to.

Then again I still haven’t taken Biological Science, Basic IT and World Literature yet. Should have been done with those last semester had only I not underloaded. Oh well, at least I’m likely to graduate on time compared to those bums and slackers.

So I left for Intramuros despite the inconsiderate rain. I had a pretty uncomfortable time in the bus. Just why does the stupid conductor have to squeeze passengers through like a can of sardines? Money matters, of course. Good thing one male passenger was chivalrous enough to offer me his seat. Turns out he just wanted to watch the TV blocked by the standing passengers. No complaints there!

Time to map out the photo flatplan! I circumnavigated the walls of Intramuros alone and on foot. Subjects taken in order are:

1. Tower of Lyceum
2. Golf course with Manila City Hall amidst the background
3. Lamp post head from atop the walls
4. Mapua Institute of Technology front gate
5. One of the cannon replicas scattered across the walls
6. Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Maynila (University of the City of Manila)
7. La Fondacion
8. Dome ruin near La Fondacion
9. Bronze statue of 19th century foot soldier
10. Manila Cathedral facade

I just pray I had the correct guesstimations of aperture and shutter speed. That’s the one thing I hate about film. Once you click, you can’t undo the trick. Hey, that rhymes! For the last time we’re required to use black and white film.

My last roll contained plates depicting squatters. My photo essay will be about Intramuros being a tourist paradise and at the same time a hellhole of hounds. Intramuros is only grand on the outside. But once you explore the interiors, expect to be greeted by eye sores of buildings and a stampede of smelly street kids begging you for money. Am I sounding harsh?

Kuya Wine commented that Intramuros seemed to be my favorite place. Naturally. I go there everyday to attend school plus I like the sceneries. Miraculously I haven’t been victimized by a flying golf ball yet. I know the periphery like the back of my hand. Also it’s where Carlo and I used to “get busy” in our early days thanks to the many nooks and crannies.

EDIT 10/10/2007: It may not be part of the photo essay but I brought my Kodak EasyShare C530 with me just in case! I had nothing better to do during my rest and thought I’d capture this!

After a diligent day devoted to final exams, I decided I deserve a treat at McDonald’s. I had my usual order of No. 6: Cheeseburger meal with orange juice and regular fries. Goodness knows I’m not a sodaholic. And a little food trivia: One order of regular fries contains more cholesterol than a Big Mac. Of course I’m concerned about my health too.

And oh yes. I just bought an English-Chinese dictionary (‘coz I already have a Chinese-English) and a new novel: Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman.

Since I’ve read all seven Harry Potter books and completed all of Paulo Coelho’s novels, time to start on a new reading obsession. I’ve read Neil Gaiman specializes in adult fantasy. Once I’m done with that, I think I’ll save up for American Gods next. Stardust has good reviews too though as well as Coraline. Anansi Boys didn’t live up to expectations though.

Postscript: Once again I was mistaken a Korean. The poor bloke of a Calesa driver even bothered to follow me while I was walking my way to Manila Cathedral, camera hanging around my neck.

“Miss, calesa?”
I shook my head, obviously saying “No.”
“Miss, calesa?”
Again, I shook my head, further indicating I was already irritated.
“Yu want rayd hors, miss?”
I got fed up and doubled my walking speed.

The fact that he had to speak to me in twisted English with a thick accent both amused and annoyed me. He must be so desperate to follow me with his dingy carriage and assuming me to be a clueless Korean tourist.

Fan Fiction Foiled

Most writers are like that. They have many excuses when not writing but when they are, it’s a dangerous mistake to disturb them.
-Kuya Wine

I still feel unmotivated to continue The White Mage and the Slasher, my Beauty and the Beast-based Final Fantasy X fan fiction. I began it late 2003 and I still haven’t finished. That’s either lazy or uninspired. Before that, there’s still the photo essay.

I’ve been getting less readers and reviews lately though I can say I’m unaffected by this. Partly because of my abysmally slow updates and mostly because FanFiction.Net is way too contaminated with amateur (and even uneducated) writers. I mean the type who obviously haven’t attended elementary English whose works tinker with incorrect spelling and grammar, awkward sentences, inaccuracies from the original title and God forbid; shallow poetry and plotless stories. The most tolerable are those who can’t even tell “your” from “you’re,” “its” and “it’s,” “there” and “their,” “were” and “we’re.” The problem with FF.net is that anyone can be a “writer” with just a snap and the stories submitted don’t even undergo professional screening.

Devoid

Only the difference between truth and lies, courage and cowardice.
-Minerva McGonagall, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

This empty feeling… It is both a good and bad thing. You feel no mirth within yet there’s enough room to fill you with various emotions.

Empty. That’s what I’m feeling now, and I don’t mean in an emo-ish sense. I just feel no emotion at all. Nothing. Neither happiness or gloom, hope nor despair. I can’t hold a knife, bear myself with scars reminding me of pain I myself have inflicted. I just can’t bring myself to smile yet the look on my face isn’t indicating a frown. I am not feeling suicidal or grief-stricken yet I can’t feel creativity and inspiration surging through my veins.

How can I even say I feel empty when I’m not feeling anything at all? No wonder they invented the word “apathy.” I have my own color pallet of emotions. White is what paints my heart now. According to a Psychology student from school, white is not necessarily a color. It is in fact an absence of color. This is an absence of emotion.

As I write, this emptiness begins to diminish. I feel a sense of purpose now generating from hands as it manifests in my fingertips. Then my will to write returns, materializing itself in the form of these words. I learn that the only way to fill this void is to do something, anything. Not by sheer force or cumbersome shame, yet by pure will.

Intrinsic

What Your Soul Really Looks Like

You are quite expressive and thoughtful. You see the world in a way that others are blind to.You are a grounded person, but you also leave room for imagination and dreams. You feet may be on the ground, but you’re head is in the clouds. You see yourself with pretty objective eyes. How you view yourself is almost exactly how other people view you. Your near future is likely to be filled with great successes and accomplishments. You just need to figure out how to get there. For you, love is all about caring and comfort. You couldn’t fall in love with someone you didn’t trust.

Inside the Room of Your Soul

Potter and the USA

After a month of state-hopping on the west coast, Mom finally rode back to Vancouver from Seattle. She’ll fly back here in the Philippines on September 22nd. That’s Carlo’s birthday!

So I made one last request to Mom. Now that I’ve finished the final installment of the Harry Potter series, I feared of being inflicted by the Post-Potter Depression, a recently discovered psychological disorder that inflicts numerous HP fans with the fact that it’s all over and that there will no longer be any HP books to look forward to.

As to immunize myself from this threat, I requested that she purchase Quidditch Through the Ages and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. They are unavailable in the bookstores here so I’m deeply hoping they’d be displayed in Canada. After all that’s where the British editions are printed using recycled materials.

It has been quite a ride for Mom having stayed in Vancouver the first week, Seattle the second, Phoenix the third and Oakland the fourth, then it’s a roundtrip ticket back to Seattle then finally to the point of origin; Vancouver.

Mom has always described the US as a nice place to live. But despite being surrounded by lavish choices and sophisticated foreigners, nothing could ever vaporize the loneliness that afflicted her. So it’s true that happiness isn’t for sale. The only ones who can give happiness to you are the ones you love and who love you.