Game and Crab -- 2 of my favorites in the world

Instead of going to a bar in Quezon Avenue, we went to Game Crab Boardgame Cafe along Katipunan. People celebrate their entry to adulthood in such craziness as drinking alcohol until vomiting, grand parties that require decency, formal balls, shabu-shabu experimentations and--I was pinching myself while trying to articulate this--adult bars or watching R18 films.

I've convinced myself a dozen times ago to experience the heaven that's Game Crab. But I've never convinced anyone else. So when asked what to do for my birthday, I quickly said, "Game Crab!" It's a cafe that serves not only good food but entertainment through the boardgames. I've never heard of anything like it. So the mechanics is that you go there, you buy food, you pick a boardgame, you play, then play some more until you have to go, then go when you have to.

The hourly rate of 45 per head is cheap as compared to the lifetime poverty from purchasing these boardgames. Boardgames usually cost in grands, and they can go from a thousand to sixteen. The Cashflow boardgame costs 15999 in Toy Kingdom (This is one of the reasons the creators of Rich Dad, Poor Dad get rich). Nobody in their right underwear will be purchasing this unless they have a consistent influx of money, money, money. So, for those who are financially challenged, Game Crab Cafe provides the piracy, although more legally than film piracy. Arr!

What's more is that they provide you time to learn from their very friendly staff who are praiseworthily omniscient. You can also switch games anytime you want. Their games list consists of the classics as well as the unheard of. Although I have to admit, they still need to add more boardgames because I felt they lacked several.

We played Quelf and Acquire. We attempted Marvel Superheroes and Cranium WOW, but because we were six and only four can play Marvel Superheroes, and because Cranium WOW was very much like Quelf, we never really finished.

Quelf's objective is to reach the finish, like Snakes and Ladders. Simple? Not quite. Color-coded steps require you to act, sing, write, lose your dignity, answer trivia questions, and implement rules. The cards are Showbiz, Scatterbrainz, Stunts, Roolz and Trivia. Showbiz requires you to sing, act or dance. Scatterbrainz lets you choose a category. Each player, taking turns, has to say something in that category in ten seconds. Stunts makes you do some stuff. Roolz allows you to implement self rules or group rules. In Trivia, you have to answer questions. Penalties are implemented; these come in the form of going back spaces.

In Acquire, you have to be the richest by the end of the game. A grid with cells labeled maps out a place where you can found companies. Each company has stocks which you can purchase. The goal is to enlarge a company, in terms of land area, so that when two companies collide, the bigger company eats up the smaller company. It's too hard to verbalize. But anyhow, it's strategic, and I have to say, it's a dodecillion times better than Monopoly. That's how good it is.

Game Crab is a misnomer. They don't serve crab. Awww!

The beauty of being eighteen is freedom. No limits, no restrictions, no "Hey you need to show proof that you're over thirteen!" before watching an R13 movie. The freer I am, the younger I feel. The logical conclusion here is I am younger.

Of seventeen and zero

This is one of the incidences that deserve a post amid business.

The Lord has truly blessed me with an eventful and diverse eighteen years of living.

The first thing I thought of this morning as I woke up was how to set the bounds of an iterated integral. I am thankful for the math exam, even though I may have committed a lot of mistakes. I am thankful because without it, the only thing I would have thought of was how many greetings I will have received by the end of today, which is quite dumb. Good thing I got to my senses, and I let Jesus sign a resolution.

To be frank, I don't want to be an adult. Adulthood is filled with predicaments way beyond the capacities of an unprepared child. Read: I know nothing about ripening. When people teased me this morning, I told them I was born tonight at about 5-6 (says my birth certificate) so that I wasn't eighteen yet.

But thanks to Ria's statement "Di mo naman maeevade e," I welcomed an epiphany. Welcomed, but dismissed abruptly. I still don't want to be eighteen. I'm not excited with adult stuff like registration, night clubs, R18 films, and alcohol (These are all enumerated by friends). I may be two hundred sixteen months old, but I am younger at heart. The only thing I'm excited about being eighteen is that I can join TV game shows.

Thank God for life. Consider me seventeen still.

Moved

I now live 7 minutes away from UP Diliman. Although my new home is situated along an alley that's so slum-like and puppy-infested, I haven't seen any dangerous men lurking in the streets so I hope it's safe. I haven't gotten the hang of this new home thing, but I do hope before November ends, I will have been able to reconstruct my study habits.

Mikael, Greggy and Andrew are my roomies. They all snore (although Greggy hasn't moved in yet); I'm the only one who doesn't snore in my sleep.

The best thing I like about this is I can get to my 7 AM class on time even if I wake up past six. Hopefully, I will not abuse the fact that I won't get late even if I wake up thirty minutes before my sched.

JKLM

Joji Klarisse Liwag Mendoza. Kahit na bibihira kang bumisita rito, babatiin pa rin kita.

Maligayang kaarawan, kapatid.

Alam kong kung ikaw ako, lalagyan mo ng larawan 'to.

Pero ako ako, kaya naman simple lang 'to.

Pagpalain ka nawa ng Diyos.

Umuwi ka na.

PS. Dito lang kita pwedeng batiin. Pupunta kasi ako sa malayong lugar bukas, kaya magpapaka-ascetic ako.

Bipolar

Battered shoulders. Green wrist. Ten photographs. Irksome throat.

All worth it.

Up dharma Down has never got and will never get trite, even with the signature effects.

Because my companions ditched me, I had gone to the "Bipolar" album launch alone--proof of my undying, ever-enduring love for the band.

Even though I only saw fragments of Armi, Polyap, Los, and Ean at a time, the sounds more than compensated for the lack of vision.

Armi has gotten slimmer and hotter with her hair. If only we reek the same generations, I would've wooed you.

Come signing time, I shoved them their two albums, but was too timid to speak phrases. It somehow was intimidating, like in the presence of idols. Ahhh, if I were to see God face-to-face, I wouldn't be able to breathe.

But tada, nice nice. Polyap, why didn't you sign my CD? You were the only one who signed once on "Bipolar." Good thing the face you drew is awesome!

Up dharma Down, thank you for the music.

Blessed. Clockwork. Delayed breathing. All year round. Taya. Unspoken definites. The cold is warmth. Two. Sana. Return, saturn, return. Every first second. Furnace. Silid. Sugarcoats & heartbeats.

*

Yesterday, I bought four books, amounting to grands: The world without us, Possessing genius, The forensic casebook: the science of crime scene investigation, and Runaways Vol. 1.

This sem break, I will be brushing up the shelves and my neurons with the aforementioned books, plus Mark Lynas' Six degrees.

Any form of Chemistry, flee from me. You will not haunt me this sem break. You will not. If you try to phenylpropanalamine me with the generic meds, I will burn you to the very last drop and I swear I will slack off in school.

*

If only desperate losers stopped from being so desperate, the world will be a better place to live in.

"Taya" is my favorite track so far.

Bliss beyond words

I tried to contain all the emotion, the restlessness stirring within me, what with the fine weather contradicting the quite expected maladies of The Router. But no, alas, I have no evidence whatsoever--no pictures, no memorabilia, no name tag, no souvenir. Just the memory of a thousand friendships, waiting to entangle themselves onto one another, as a labyrinthine connect-the-dots sheet.

I cannot impart upon you any bit of happiness or joy or gladness or excitement because I'm no Matt Parkman. But what I can tell you is that I'm ready to have a kid. And not just ready, I'm excited. It is the beauty of humanity, the perpetuation of its own species, as Mr. Mamaril had told us.

But what gave me the gladness similar to unwrapping a heap of presents during Christmas was the unwrapping of anonymity. The disclosure of closeness, unexpectedly hidden within.

I met a lot of kids. At the Institute for Foundational Learning, I befriended a lot, most of them actually. Kids ranging from 4 to 19 (perhaps?). And it was an easy task, with them approaching you like ants that have smelled cookie crumbles. There were a dozen "Kuya Ben! Kuya Ben!"s And I was looking around and below for the kiddie high-pitched sources.

Ahh, why are kids so happy and joyful? While some people get so impatient and stubborn and bitchy sometimes.

The first kid to approach me was Joven (although technically, it was I who approached him), around 7 or 8 (for so many kids, I only remembered a few ages). I was busy setting up the signs. He narrated about his friend, Ben ________ whom he recalled because of my name tag.

The face-painting made me face a lot of kids, sadly, I cannot enumerate all. I face-painted the green team with Jhing Talan, and the kids LOOOOOVED the face paint. The first creature I drew was a lion, and it looked more like a puppy to me. And some wanted butterflies, the most desired creature of all. Followed closely by the flower. And some vines. These days, kids have gone more earthy.

Three kids that I remembered from that face-painting were Heather, Nico and Jeremiah.

Heather. The plump, cheerful little girl, wanted anything. On her nose, her cheeks, her forehead. Anywhere on her face. Green paint all over her face, and she wasn't even on the green team. Later that day, she went kite-flying with me. I was so ecstatic to help everyone. She got her frame busted. The barbecue-looking stick dropped onto a ground of harvest leftovers. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, except the needle looked much like hay, only harder and denser. But still, we didn't find it. So we had to improvise and put a balloon stick instead, only to find out that it was so flexible that it increased its crash-landing statistics to about five-fold.

Nico. Aww, the kid who never stopped smiling. If only he had perfect teeth, he would have been part of Colgate's "Brush brush brush!" He was part of the orange team, the team with pink paint on (sorry Michael King, no time for mixing colors there). He wanted a green mustache and beard and a green eye-patch. Arrr!!! If only the party hats were pirate hats instead of animals.

And Jeremiah, the bashful. We had to play funny bones, ear to mouth, most of the time. And still a fraction of the time I didn't understand what he had said. He was the sweaty kid. He wasn't at all fat, but he had sweat like he was in the middle of a sun-washed cornfield. He had to line up a dozen times just so his snazaroo didn't wear off. If only the mess hall had outdoor air. This kid got so attached to me that I had to carry him behind my back the entire Treasure Hunt. He was always so serene even when our tribe was figuring out the clues. And the moment we arrived at the clue location, we had to leave so suddenly because by the time we arrived, they'd figured out the clue.

At the fields, we flew kites. There, I sat in the middle, and then came Debbie. Deborah/Debra Grace was the cutest. But the most violent. She was sort of conio. We had an exchange of
"They made away." "Who made away to you?" "Them *points at Pito*"

And later on: "The sky is so taas." "Debbie, why is the kitten bigger than the dinosaur?" "Because Barney's a kid." "Debbie, why is Barney purple?" "Debbie, which do you prefer, Barney or the kitten?" "Barney AND the kitten." "Debbie, do you like your hat?" To which she angrily throws off her hat. And then she rests her butt on me. Later on she kills me, scratching my ears and my neck, like a cat fighting for life. My ears bled. I pretended to be dead. To which she laughed. And laughed some more. Giggled like a teenage girl fan. Then she butt-jumped on my belly as though I was her personal trampoline. And I pretended to be dead more than a dozen times. Again and again and again. And she was not at all satisfied.

It was hard to bid our goodbyes. Debbie never wanted to let me stand. And when I was finally able to stand. She tricked Irish into carrying her, like an infant. But it was a trap! She never wanted to go down. Never. Until, she was forced by the authorities. She was such a strong girl for such a young age; she never showed tears.

Arnel was the same as my age. He had wanted to befriend me, like his brother because he knew another Ben whom he was very dearly close. He taught me several handshakes. Those stuff best friends usually do. The last word I heard from him was "ingat" after the handshakes he taught me. He must have been used to saying goodbyes as he was very composed.

I wish I had that composure. Even though I only got to spend hours with them, I will forever treasure the fun times. It's all in my head. And when I get old, I will recall the day.

This day marks my calendar

And it marks my age too. Tried and disliked. Never gonna happen again. Perhaps.

I have three finals left, but my sembreak has started

I will not rant about my exam grades. I will not rant about them. I will not. I will not rant about me getting that low grade in the last Physics exam, nor will I rant about the "supposedly unoable" Chem grade (Hello Doc Q and Ma'am De Guzman, you've made our 31 miserably fun!) I do not wish to remember, nor will I rant about my Math tentative grade.

I will not rant, because ranting doesn't do anything to change that hell-of-a-dumbbell stupidity I exhibited during the past few months. I did not give my all, and I haven't done anything I can be proud of this nearly over semester. (Well, except in that one-unit subject that acts as if it's five units).

Ranting does no good. It only welcomes negative energies. Negative energies I HATE I HATE I HATE. I HATE I HATE I HATE THIS SUPPOSEDLY RELATIVELY EASIER SEM.

*calms down*

I am calm. Thank you stupidity and laziness for making this sem very memorable. Thank you for shoving this memory deep in the cortices of my brain and gluing it in like a post-it rammed along the flap of my printer.

They say "Sometimes you need to feel downs in order for you to strive to go up."
I say "I DON'T NEED A DOZEN DOWNS FOR ME TO REALIZE I'M ACTING TOO LAZILY."

*calms down again*

On a more serious, less aggressive note.
I need to make the list of things to do this sem break. I have to read "Runaways," "Physics of the Impossible," "Six Degrees" and "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Not Slacking Off."

Seriously.
I also need to soak myself in comics as I had the inexplicable urge to buy gatchillion comic books.
And movies. I need to watch a million films, any suggestions?

I hate HEROES for making me wait a looooooooooong time before watching the next episode.

I love the women of Heroes for being so hot. Is it just me or does Hayden Panettiere really look a little bit like Maja Salvador?

Ali Larter, marry me.

The Beggar

The sulky footsteps drew nearer
As drumbeats on crescendo
Motionless--behind a road post,
Like a fool who banged himself unconscious,
Having enough of the daily
Yearnings for mercy.

The face:
Still and fixed. Yet deeply piercing
Like a spear through the heart.
Silent. But speaks itself
In a language anyone understands
But everyone ignores
As shadows passing through.

The emptiness personified.
___________________
(Nothing everyone shares,
Everything to no one)
Outstretched to reach for freedom
From behind prison bars

Had he the jacket of Al Jarreau,
He could have passed for a
Performer on Broadway,
Or the striped shirts of convicts,
He would have passed for a
Pantomime-teller.

Back with equilibrium--
No motion, no action, no reaction.
No torque--
Comes the dismal stare
Of Africa
Brought to the streets of Manila
Like scattered chesspieces Sicilian
Waiting for a radical change in position.

No. Not now.
Not when shadows move
Past him without stopping. Unending
A heart hardened and
A pitiful blind passerby...

Thank God for Revision History

The night was done, the early dawn
The roosters seemed to oversleep
But so did I, and then I lazed
For sure I'd finish anyway
But then again, I had to start
The question was, when to
But nonetheless I managed still
To flip some pages and collect my thoughts
His thoughts, your thoughts, some guy's thoughts
I wrote them all down in Google Docs
And just in time I finished all
I ran to tell I'm done and call
The lousy loser to speed up
And then I previewed before publishing
Alas 'twas gone, all sweat and heat
The page now was staring, blank
To say "haha, you see, you see"
But cramming was not the subject
Of Ruffles, ridges, fridges, cringes
I shit, I fucked, I swore all I could.
I was the worst, I myself got eep
I asked "why, o why?"
The deadline was nearing, an hour left
And there was more to be done
The page was blank, was blank, was blank
If I repeated, I'm done for
Never gonna beat that clock
I wondered how to retrieve
I clicked, I hovered, I "help"ed
But to no avail.
Luck was taking its toll on me
So I was angry, mad and sad
Until I clicked and clicked some more
And then after a minute or more
Thank God for Revision History.

Poverty

It's 4:44 on my bedroom clock. The only sign of human life around my neighborhood is my bedroom: the loud crackling of chips, the bedroom light turned on. The rooster is awake and so am I. But the disparity is I've been so since twelve hours ago (and still not feeling sleepy), but it has had its nightly rest. The bag of chips is left unmoved as of now, lying on the bed with a heap of art stuff: catalog envelopes, par avion envelopes, cartolinas, tissue papers, shears, colored cardboards, and what are left of sketches cut out into collage components. Forgive me for the term, but they seem to be having an orgy; for the current state of my bed-top is as foul and disgusting, if not worse, as the word "orgy" implies.

Fortunately, I have another bed, the one where my brother used to sleep. The current state of this other bed is less lousy, more welcoming, but nonetheless equally uncomfortable. I will not disclose to you what is on top of it, but I will disclose to you that if you had been my guest, you would not dare lie on it. Between the two beds is a desktop you cannot lay something on because of the pile of scattered papers wrung on top. Okay, "wrung" is for trash, and those on top of it aren't, but they're sort of trashy because they are so disorganized.

I can't believe what the long weekend does to people. First, it makes you the pretentious planner who lists things to do over the weekend. Then, you procrastinate and pretend you were the lead guitarist of Nirvana (Star Powers rock!!! Rock on!!!). And then, it converts you into this movie addict, who watches a dozen of films consecutively on Youtube, until right in the middle of a clip Youtube removes the video, thereby letting you destroy the deep sleeps of your neighbor through your ungodly shout right in the middle of the night (I swear, you'd shout too if you were in my shoes.). And so I predict that the last phase of the weekend will be devoted to cramming.

And to recount my days, I'll tell you four things:

One. Keep complaining until it dawns on you that your whining doesn't change anything.
Two. Stay up until three to study. Then wake up to study again, only to be clueless on an exam.
Three. What a great epiphany I've experienced last Saturday!! While I was making up for missed PE sessions, I learned that to create strikes and spares, you'd have to target the floor, not the pins. Translated to the language of life, you mustn't think of your consequences more than you think of your actions. Or, you mustn't care for the future more than you should of the present.
Four. Michael Phelps is not as awesome as I am. Hahaha. And because I will be attending a swimming party this Friday, I just realized I have nothing categorized as swimwear but trunks. GMO! And I don't wear trunks in public, because time will stop and people will stare at me. So I have to purchase board shorts. And God only knows how impoverished I am (Ok, I'll shut up before mental images of Africa start flickering). But I really, really, really have to buy board shorts (and a DSLR, and books, and a new laptop) or else people will realize how scrawny and kiddish I am with the trunks.

Do me a favor. Win the lotto for me. Ok, I shall now sleep. Time: 5:22. The sun is rising.

Praise be to the Almighty

If there is one line that struck me in "Get Smart," it would be "Oh, my Lord." It was said by the Chief during the butt-dragging-through-the-train-rails scene. It showed how utter reliance on the Lord is inevitable during desperate times beyond human control.

Every single day, millions of people cry out to the Lord out of desperation. But much fewer cry out to the Lord in gratitude undeniably due Him. Thanks be to God for everything. For love. For peace. For joy. For things beyond our knowledge. For things within our grasp. For dreams left unfulfilled. For ambitions turned into realities. For forgiving every time we sin. For welcoming prodigal sons and daughters.

I am a prodigal son. I've had my unfair share of weaknesses, failures, and unworthinesses. But like the most famous prodigal son, when I come back, my Father will shower me with blessings far more gratifying than any of the stray-aways while lost. He will rejoice to see me again. He will hold a banquet especially for my coming back. He will celebrate my arrival.

But I am where I am, and where I am right now is not where I should be. My Father awaits for me in worry.

Lord, help me see the bigger picture.

Until I become McArthur, I will be truly downcast.

I shall return.

Because the heavens are angry and I'm stuck in my cube

Mushi (nobody calls her Gia at all. Perhaps when she's a little older?), my little niece, is currently in Baguio. The last time I saw her (or at least the last time I remember I saw her) she was princessy. But now, she has turned into a monster!! RARRR!! She's a little leaner and taller, and the brat that she is, spits on fishes she sees on aquariums and zen gardens. But still, she wears those princessy outfits, so think about a runaway princess. Or a rebel princess. Or whatever. Anyway, imagine being a little girl, not even a year old, talking gibberish, and wearing clothes fit for a princess. I mean, I'd rather she wear Sesame Street, Disney, or even Teletubbies than she wear a Keira Knightley or an Angelina Jolie on Red Carpets or Awards nights. I really think they're spoiling her. Oh well, at least she's still lovable and cute.

So if she's a princess, does that make me a prince? Haha.

Look how misleading my blog can get

I clicked on my tracker to get a little feel of knowing something that others would not (although sharing it right now defeats the point), like the top secrets of Central Intelligence Agency agents or like surveillance cams on top of cashiers or like forensic scientists doing DNA tests plus fingerprinting, which by the way I have done just last summer, or just like having the fulfilling feeling of knowing something that others do not.

So as you can see (this time you may feel as if you're part of the highly kept-secret investigation), thousands of people google the weirdest searches ever, and almost ninety-nine percent of them gets fooled and clicks my blog. I guess only 1 out of the twenty found Google's popping out of my blog address useful.
And in statistics, this data set of sample size twenty could have been more precise and accurate and useful and reliable if the tracker had used stratified random sampling or clustered sampling or multistage sampling or whatever sampling such that whatever is not simple random.

I feel the need to explain the following keywords: archi stuff, Taco Bell architecture, "ask you a favor"/"One favor though," "Tim Andrew Torres Alabang," "Pangalan canal," "bansa ko mahal ko poem," "agimath," "swirly bitz," and "joji mendoza."

First off, swirly bitz. I did a senseless poem on "swirly bitz" which I gave to Muy mi amiga (ok, I should stop trying Spanish right now because I have no background whatsoever). It's also found somewhere within this blog, but if you haven't read it before, I suggest you don't try finding it because it has out-"Jabberwocky"-ed "Jabberwocky."

"Tim Andrew Torres Alabang" What the heck, Heck Tate? I've heard of Andrew Torreses in other countries but in Alabang? Never. So Tim is my friend. Andrew Torres is my best friend. And Alabang is where my brother lives when he stays in the Metro. See the connection? Haha.

"ask you a favor"/"one favor though" is one of my poems found in this blog. It is addressed to only one person when my emo-ness was optimally consuming me in my dreams, versus another poem, "to someones," which is directed to a lot of people. "to someones" is a million times better than "Can I ask you one favor though?"

So the archi stuff is a duhuh. The header says it all. Should I start changing it now? I only used archi stuff simply because when I started this blog I found inspiration in a wristwatch my dad gave me, on which was engraved the word "arkitekt." Plus the fact that the Architect's works are an amazement we should all say kudos to. I wonder if the Architect made blueprints of the stars, planets, bacteriophages and amino acid sequences, or if He did it without them.

Taco Bell Architecture is TBA. It is something we should all be wide-eyed at. Yehes, Taco Bell Architecture. The architecture of Taco Bell, of all the other fastfood chains. I really can't stop myself from laughing, why would someone want to search the architecture of Taco Bell? Is it that good? Because if it is, I'd probably blame my ignorance on the wonderful food they've got there.

JOJI MENDOZA is the celeb here. She's been searched thrice in a span of 11 days, probably by different people with different IP addresses. And I don't know why someone searching for Joji Mendoza is directed to my blog when her name isn't flashed a million times. Oh yeah, I remember. I made some poem entitled "isang tula para kay joji mendoza" in response to her "tula para kay ben lopez" (don't really remember the titles, haha). Moreover, she was a groupmate of mine in our Math proj during senior year, and our boardgame was entitled "Agimath" Yipee.

Two key phrases I cannot explain: "bansa ko mahal ko poem" and "pangalan canal"

What the Heck Tate is a pangalan canal? Hahaha.

And to close this post, I can say "architect guy drier" is the weirdest search ever. Pangalan canal comes in second because it still is somehow comprehensible, as opposed to an "architect guy drier," which I'm sure has a lame reason behind it. Maybe, the architect, a male, wants to be dry after hours of painstakingly sweaty work. Or maybe, there is a guy drier branded "architect," in which guys are dumped in like a dishwasher-drier.

One thing's for sure here though. My blog needs a makeover. Not the gay ones you see on TV but an organized and simpler and less misleading makeover (that I will never be able to do as Chemistry does not and will not permit me to do so).

So little time, so much to do

I'd like to spend my days with you
And if that day is not enough

Ok, enough. That song kind of stuck for a while years ago.
It' s funny how I'm not sleepy at this time of day (4:11 AM) at this time of life. I really should start sticking post-its on my laptop screen that scream: IT'S OVER. SUMMER'S OVER!!! So why the heck are you still bumming around like there's no tomorrow (or there is tomorrow)?

Summer for me was fun. I played a lot of games, watched a couple of films, listened to a dozen CDs. I never really went outdoors, so I was fulfilling my niche as the very attentive listener that I am to the COUCH!

Couch says "Hey Potato."
Ben says "Hey Couch."
Couch winks.
Ben says "We're meant to be."

Then Couch and I were together the entire summer left. I told her to listen to those bedtime stories I had wanted to finish, but we both got tired of Plato that we never got to Brunelleschi. I never even flicked that Musicophilia cover.

I told Couch I'm gonna make her cookies, so I did. With the help of Mrs. Fields (hahaha). I was mashed enough to not give her the avocados that Chef made for me. Mmm, the avocados are mine!

Well anyway we just watched and played. Watched Kyuu-kun deduce those out-of-this-world yet realistic mysteries. Played Cluedo a dozen gazillion battalion times!

And now I am turning into the worst student you could ever imagine. I never even bothered to open any textbook this summer (i.e., the gap between summer classes and 1st sem classes). But anyhow, my sleep deficiency shall take its toll when I grab the cookies downstairs and I start wobbling like the wirings of my iPod. I am in no position to make these gibberish glitterish! Hahaha, I need to take a break.

So now Couch is whispering, "Now that you're enrolled you're telling me that you need a break."
And then I say, "Shut up."

Then Couch says, "Oh my gawsh, I can't believe you're dumping me."
Then I say, "It's over, so kiss my ass goodbye."

Forgive me Couch, but I really have to end this. We are OVER.

Bakit ngayon ko lang nadiscover ang OneRepublic?

For such a great band, tsktsktsk.

I want

I want to have a DSLR
I want a new non-heating, non-hanging, super fast laptop
I want to have a library
I want to move to Katips
I want to own a forensics lab
I want to have books, lots of books: textbooks (who doesn't want textbooks?), novels, books books
I want new games for my DS
I want wii
I want to own a resto, a bookstore, and a grocery

I want time
I want food, glorious food, where the dogs of society howl!
I want every single volume of Detective School Q manga
I want an unlimited supply of strawberry yogurt
I want a garden of strawberries
I want to learn to play the sax
I want a lot

It is but natural to want. I am selfish. I care about what I have and what I get.
I care more about what I want to have than what I already have.
Why would I want something I already have? I cannot re-possess something I already have.
It is one-time: when you've got it, you've got it.

I want peace, not world peace, but peace in itself.
Peace out.

The Comeback

Last Thursday was my rain-pattered last lab exam of Bio 12. I was walking along Katipunan, with feet lifted slightly sideward instead of the usual upward because my pants would stain when soaked. Then as I occasionally examined my pants for mud-slops, I saw a lean tall man stop and stare at me. I stopped too and was shocked at what I saw. The last time I saw this man was more than two years ago, and I remember quite well the "bacterioFUDGE," the avant-garde and Marcel DuChamp, the tripartite statue, his BILLBOARD (oo nga, commercial model pala siya) and the endless but non-sleepless historical accounts of arts framed in kaleidoscopic micro-slides that clicked with every slide-change. The girl he was with must have been confused when I approached them and both of us were open-mouthed. But what made my mouth open wider was the fact that the teacher I had more than a couple of years ago remembered my first name! He was only doing a sort-of OJT in Pisay as an art educator, not an official Pisay faculty member, but a million times better than the official teacher (okay, exagg).

"Wow, anlaki mo na. Len, this is Ben, my student from Pisay. He was second year then," Sir Manuel says. (Man_uel Ca_rre_on yung pangalan niya, underscores included to avoid Google from popping me up when his name's Googled)

I don't actually know if I heard it right but Len was the name I can recall. It was really flattering that he remembered me out of all the students he had from various schools, such as Miriam/Poveda (not sure which), Ateneo, etc. I mean, if I were he, I would have forgotten my more-than-two-years-ago students. Add to it the fact that he went to the US for quite a long time.

I was like, "Wow, you remember"
And he was like "Of course"

And then our conversation led to my course: M--(I almost forgot that I was talking to an arts teacher), Molecular Biology and Biotech po

Sir: Ahh, MBB (Wow, I was surprised at how he knew that the term was MBB)
Di ka naman oblation?

Me (sa kaloob-looban ko, nagtataka ako bat niya naman tatanungin yun, pero anyway, sinagot ko rin): Oblation po.

So I fairly deduced that he graduated from UP, most prolly Fine Arts? :))

And then he was like, Kumusta ka na??
And I was like, May exam po.
And he was like, O nagmamadali ka ba?
And I was like, Medyo po.
And he was like, Ok, kung gusto niyo akong bisitahin andyan lang ako sa Ateneo High school
And I was like, Bakit ka naman namin bibisitahin? (but only in my head LOL)

So the exam went like STR. Computations galore for the Simpson's Diversity Index, Morisita's Index of Dispersion, blabla. Good thing, they gave out the formulas.
Tas, dahil di naman nagbabasa nito ang mga bio friends ko, allow me to brag. :)) Paminsan-minsan lang to, kaya itataga ko na sa blog na ito. ANG TAAS KO SA LAST BIO LAB EXAM. WOOHOO. :)) 58/60 O diba? Hightech talaga sa chamba Ben!!! Sige na, pagbigyan niyo na ako, meron naman akong mababa e.

MY VERY FIRST TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE.

But then, after the exam, I had my very first traumatic experience. Jack and I shared the same traumatic fate as we rode the Katips jeep. We were seated near the front as the jeepney was almost filled. (You know how Filipino culture works: passengers want to sit as nearer the exit as possible so that they would not have to hold and pass the grimy fares of the new incomers or they'd not have to say "Bayad daw po"; so if you get in a bit late and there are a lot of passengers already, chances are, you'd have to sit near the driver).

Anyhow, the ride went on as any ride should. But when we got to Shuster, there was this weird sound that kept on repeating: abruptly interrupted clinks as though someone wanted the jeepney to halt. And murmurs from someone are heard, although vaguely. But the jeepney never stopped. I myself was never sure if the person murmuring loudly but vaguely had wanted to get off. But when we got past Mercury Drug, along Berkeley Residences (the SM-owned condo being built), everyone was alarmed when the guy beside me KICKED the guy in front of him as though they were fighting over something. Everyone thought they knew each other, but this assumption was dismissed the moment the guy who got kicked shouted "Mama tulungan niyo ako, mga snatcher 'tong mga 'to." The jeepney had a world of its own. The driver immediately stopped. The guy next to me stood up and kicked some more. The guy from my other side immediately stood up and dove from the window ledge onto the outside world, escaping the possible threats of being stuck and held up. A guy near the exit exits. The kicked victim fights back. Another guy says out loud "Ang lakas mo mambintang a." Then four guys, later to be known as the snatchers, get off the jeepney, getting hold of nothing save embarrassment.

The events happened so quickly that the only thing that I had done was to stand up and try to get to the front seats as Jack and I were trapped. Imagine FOUR MUSCULADOS blocking the exit. Imagine if they all had knives pocketed and threatened us all to give up our phones and valuables and still slit some of us. Imagine the adrenaline I must have wasted but still not being able to move much. I was essentially TRAPPED. And if the FOUR SNATCHERS hadn't on them bits of halos, they would've exposed knives. That brief moment, about a second or so, I thought of a lot of things: getting to the headlines (JEEPNEY MASSACRE AND ROBBERY), my family and the worries and tears I'd have inflicted them, my phone and my money, my ID :)), "Is this the end for me?", and "what about the exam tomorrow?" This last one was quite funny and I was laughing when I recounted the events that took place. For some weird reason, I still had in me the interest in Bio. :))

Anyhow, so you might ask what happened? Well, the four snatchers got down before anybody with photographic memory remembered them. The guy who exited re-entered. There were some who got off and never got back. Nobody's phone got stolen.

The reason why the guy got kicked was because he was telling the passenger beside him to take heed because there were snatchers around. The guy who got kicked narrated to the ones left behind that the moment he got in the jeepney, the guy beside him, felt his pockets, and he was quick enough to ask the "feeler" why he was feeling his pockets. (Sa kaloob-looban ko, napaka-unprofessional naman ng snatcher, nafefeel ng sinasnatchan niya yung kamay niya).

Apparently, the four snatchers badly looked at him in the face, and all must have wanted him killed and shut off because he was a lousy kiss-up. Anyhow, the guy beside me got pissed at him warning everyone of snatchers (the murmurs were warnings pala) so the snatcher beside me kicked him on the crotch. (ayayay, nanghihina ako sa nangyari). Thanks to Mr Someone who got kicked, not a single phone got snatched.

My sincerest gratitude to Mr SOMEONE who sacrificed and got kicked. If it weren't for you, w880i might have been gone forever.

PS If you were wondering what Jack did the entire commotion, I'd gladly say he was calm, too calm that he didn't move a single twitch. :)) He just sat in front of me, did nothing, never showed even the slightest movements. It must have been more traumatic for him than for me. =)) Poor Jack.

BIOLOGY

Okay, best part is, IT'S DONE!!! :)) No more Pandocia, or even Peziza, Acanthaster, Clonorchis, gynecophoric canals, Apocynaceae, Sepia, Loligo, Lobophyton, Metridium, Pocillopora, Cassiopeia, Galaxaura, Turbellaria, Digenea, Sarcomastigophora, and lots more. Although I'll miss the nautilus. :))

Discipline

The next post will be in another four weeks, I guess.

I am both frantic and anxious at what Friday may bring. I haven't sat a total of seven hours a day for just one subject. I don't know if this summer class will be a good thing or not, but what I do know is there is no turning back. I just pray that all will be well with Bio because I don't want to suddenly blurt out "I should've chosen trumpets instead."

When I was choosing which subject to take this summer, I immediately thought of the hardest one because logically if you zoom in and isolate X from a group of variables you'd be focused on solving for X. And then the rest of the variables will be focused on a little later on. That was exactly what I did. I chose Bio over Math, over Chem, over Physics, over my top priority for the summer: Trumpets. :)) [maybe next year? Haha.]

Bio entails a lot of effort and time. And focusing on it is what I need. I am claiming that I will never be distracted by things such as multiply, stepmania (which btw is very addictive and fun), my nintendo ds (Haha, I will only get distracted by this if someone buys me a new cartridge :D), dancefreaks/dancemaniax (and people who influence me to go dancefreaking haha), ym and the comforts of being a sloth.

And on another note, after months of quiet, uncomplaining waiting, they announced my discipler. Yipee. Kuya Benjie Gonzales (Pisay 03).

On another note, my room is at its messiest condition since McDonald's was created. I will have to clean it sooner than summer classes start lest I will be the Marcel Duchamp of our generation.

On yet another note, TACO BELL is the best evah!!! =))

Lampayatot

Because I seldom talk about food but Taco Bell, here are non-Taco Bell eat-outs.

Here, I experience Italy.

Yesterday, I went to Ongpin. I really missed Eng Bee Tin, but even there, I never had the chance to buy hopia. Instead, I bought lasagna. Italian food in Chinatown. MMMMMMMMMM.

Last night, I ate out. At gateway. BUT NOT AT TACO BELL!!! It was very tempting: seeing Taco Bell but not eating there. I passed BOTH Taco Bells. But because a former classmate of mine was paying for our dinner, I had to eat at the very surprising Pizza Hut (his choice). Surprising because I had been assuming all the while that we were going to eat at some fine-dining resto considering that he worked at the congress. :)) Anyhow, waiting at Taco Bell for the other person whom I ate out with (there were three of us) was the hardest temptation I ever faced. It was really tempting to smell Taco Bell food but not being able to eat. It was really tempting (and detestable) to see the scrumptious Mexican food and the yellow wrappings but just be able to see them. And to top these all off, my tummy was grumbling already for we had to wait a million decades before the other guy arrived.

While waiting, the congress-person talked about the rice shortage issue the country is facing. And he told me, that there really is no shortage; we aren't endangered for the current rice produce. He told me that it has been publicized so so that the government officials will be given money (budget for the rice shortage will be given to them so they had to announce the nonexistent shortage). He told me that the government officials will be getting commission from the money tendered for the rice thing. It really is sad that the people's money go to the "government." Tsktsktsk, I don't know if he was making it all up or if it was the truth that he was saying. But what I do know is it was bad. Grrrr, but I was hungry then so I had to think about food much more than I had to about the government.

I was partly hoping that we were gonna eat at Taco Bell because we waited there. But no, for some reason, we switched fastfoods and landed on Pizza Hut. Hahaha, I really hate it when people invite me for dinner because I cannot decide which food to eat.

But I never regretted the congress-person's choice. Because the best part was it was a free dinner. :)) Italian food again, but who cares. I had the shrimp pasta thing (I didn't care what it was called as I was so hungry). And the dessert was heaven. It was called "I-dunno-again-but-who-cares-it-tasted-good." I binged on caramelized ice cream with banana and some cake toppings. And I consumed 90% of the dessert and the rest was consumed by the other two. Hahahahahaha, what's better than a free dinner??

NOTHING. :)) kidding. By the end of summer, I will have gained at least ten kilos. :)) Hopefully.

Horton is the best Seuss ever (no spoilers)

Today, the PubLit Team of my org went to Trinoma to have funfunfun.

Kuya Kito suggested that we watch Horton hears a who, although he had watched it already. After watching, we realized why he didn't care, while choosing which movie to watch, that he had watched it already. That's how great the movie is.

When I watched it, I somehow related the elephant to Jesus Christ. I can't really talk that much because I really recommend the movie. Promise. If I were to rate it like the ratings at the back of books, I'd say "Awesome" or even "Incredible" or "The best ever" :))

Waah. I can't say much. Point is, when you watch it, think about the Christian pov. And you'll get what I mean.

Horton hears a who is the deepest animated film I've ever seen. It isn't just for kids.

WATCH IT. I've never received any negative comments about it from people who watched it.

Mukha ba akong bayaran?

Today, I spent at least 5000 on miscellaneous, unnecessary stuff.

To celebrate my Math53 grade (woohoo!), I spent a lot. :))
Andrew invited me to go with him to Trinoma as he wanted to buy a gift for someone whose name I must not disclose for surprise's sake. When I got there, I told him I wanted to buy a leather case for my iPod. So I bought one for a thousand bucks, and I also bought a DS cartridge worth 2500, SUPER MARIO BROS. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Love love love mario.
Because we passed by a CD store, I also bought Herbie Hancock's Grammy award winner for best album of the year: River: the joni letters.

I love the album, really Grammy-worthy.

On my way home, I took the mrt and got off at Cubao. As I was crossing the bridge from Farmer's to Gateway, there was this guy, a thirtysomething big man, who asked me what time it was. Then I told him, 3:20 po. Then he asked me if I was going to Padi's Point (at Araneta Coliseum), I said NO! (I was caught off-guard by his question and so my adrenaline got to my nerves).

Then he asked if I could go with him:

big guy: Pwede mo ba akong samahan? Babayaran kita.

NO!

I told him in an in-your-face tone. Then ran as fast as I could without turning back.

What the hell? Who would've thought that the big guy was gay? EEEEEEEEEEEEEW, to think that he looked very masculine. He didn't cross-dress nor did he show any signs of being effeminate.

When I thought about it, nainsulto ako. Mukha ba akong callboy na bayaran? :(

101st post: One hundred one

At last, my first year in college is over. It ended today, when my adrenaline was at its maximum, as my English professor said, "Pass your papers."

My last day as a freshman was quite boring. It started out with me not finishing a round of Sushi Go Round, then later on finding out I was stuck in the slowest Katipunan jeepney ever. What made me restless was the fact that I was running a bit late for this last exam and the jeepney turned right at Romvlo. A signboard flashed to me the one-way scheme effective today. Thank God I arrived on time and finished the exam.

Praise God.

Oh yeah, I can feel the summer heat already

Summer's very near for me. It's just an exam away. What made me decide not to take the Bio11 exam was the fact that the lab part's included. All the while I had wanted to take the exam (in the hopes of getting a higher grade), I thought that only the lec part was included since the final exam is written. But no! I also realized that my grades are non-summa standing anymore, which means that I won't be graduating summa cum laude unless some miracle happens and I get a 1.0x come every sem. But who cares? When you're force-fed every day with bio and chem and add a little math memorization, you wouldn't care much about your grades. You'd just want to get away from them all.

Although part of me wants to go back in time so I could take the Chem exam (takers had shown positive feedback), I still am grateful that my summer is nearly over. And I don't have to study for the exam (an English exam isn't study-worthy!). I'm done with my essay for English! So yehey for me, because I can spend an entire day doing nothing very scholastic. Hahaha.

I really can feel the summer heat!! Although I'm sure it won't last more than two weeks because by then I would be thinking about Bio again. :)) But what's important is NOW. And NOW, I have nothing to do. WOOOOOOOOOOHOOOO!!

I need to have this

I am a fan of Jon Mclaughlin (I got this image from http://www.trappedinhell.com).

So, if you were wondering why I made it this long, it was because of him. :))

I am a big fan of Jon McLaughlin. Ever since I heard him sing and play the piano, I had wanted to be like him, a great singer-songwriter-pianist. Oh and btw, he was the one who sang "So Close" in Enchanted, which put him on Oscar's.

Now, I am taking the step a little closer, by starting with the HAIR. :))
You see, his hair and mine have a great similarity: the curls, the length. Only his is trimmed well, and browner.

So, if I ever get the chance to have my hair done, it should look something like this.

Google Jon Mclaughlin to learn more about him, and to see lots of pictures of his hair.

laughtrip with manong pedicabista

I was in the middle of doing my chem 26 results and discussions report (rdr) when I started to crave for Taco Bell (again). So I called them, asking when they will be having a deli service. But, to my dismay, they don't and won't have plans of opening up a deli service. Anyhow, it was about six and I was really craving that I didn't think twice in getting to Gateway and sacrificing my RDR (yeah, I'll be bludgeoning myself again to avoid narcolepsy from getting in) for two grilled stuft beef burritos and one crunchwrap supreme (awww, loooooooove those two)!!!

Taco Bell really should deliver. It distracts me from my school work.

It was raining when I got down the LRT on my way home, and so I decided to pedicab :))

And so, I got into the pedicab, and I was really bothered by my RDR not getting finished yet, told the driver:

ako: GSIS kanan po, pangalawang gate.
siya: saan?
a: GSIS kanan po, pangalawang gate *more slowly*
s: Deretso?
a(nagpipigil tumawa): Kanan po, pangalawang gate.
s: Pang-ilang gate?
a: Pangalawang gate po.

*tatapyasin ko na tenga mo. =)) joooke.

maya-maya, tumigil siya sa pagitan ng first at second gate. sa gate 1.5 na never namang binubuksan, at technically hindi talaga gate kasi di naman makakadaan doon yung mga sasakyan.

tas dumeretso din siya later on, finding out na ongapala, di pa dito.

*tawatawatawatawatawa secretly*

Grabe, dadalhin na talaga kita sa EENT next time.

Truth be told

Here are a few things I may have to accept so that I'll be able to fix them:

I am totally lost in Chem.
In Pisay, I always topped Chem long exams, almost always a 99 percentile rank. Way back then, I always understood what I was taught, even the more trivial ones. That was when I always studied everything. But NOW is heck a lot different. Very different. It just defeats one of the very reasons why I chose MBB over Intarmed (seeing that BS MBB has a lot of Chem in its curriculum). I don't know why, but it seems my procrastination works only for Bio and Math and English. Chem seems to be a lot different, with all its useless schizmidt and all its flabs in point systems. If before it was my favorite Science, out of the three (Bio, chem and physics), now, it has become my worst ever.

I am so disappointed with my grades.
Why can't I just be the GC Ben I used to be? I think it would be a lot easier for me if I were. But the thing is, I am so much distracted with such momentary entertainment tidbits as Mario, the internet, Pinikpikan, Jon McLaughlin, friends, tv, etc. Right now, I should be finishing my formal report in Chem, and yet I'm doing this note-to-self thing. I always am disappointed with my grades, and my resolutions always tell me to do better next sem, but I seem to be going perpendicularly.

The hair stays long.
Dearly beloved fans, I'm sorry if a great number of you voted for the shorter hair. Yeah, the bangs get to my nerves because I get little allergic manifestations along the span of my forehead, but people just love the curls. :)) And besides, I'm trying to be a Jon McLaughlin. :))

I want to be a pianist-singer-songwriter.
When I hear great artists such as Alicia Keys, John Legend, Jon McLaughlin, Norah Jones, and the like, I remember my dream of becoming a pianist and a singer. I just wish that I get time for the thing, like how the Nike surfer woman ambassador does law during the day and surf during her breaks. I really need time management skills. :))

Wake me up.
Wake me up.

I want to read and read and do music and learn the saxophone and the piano and compose songs and worship the Lord through them. Books, CD's, piano, songs, life.

I am a complete failure

Lord, help.

There really is something wrong with my phone

Or is there something wrong with Smart? Or Globe? Or both?

Why do people I send text messages to receive them late? Like fifteen minutes late, or even more? Is it with the signal interferences? In this modernized world, wherein busy lives are influenced by long-distance communication, nobody can't afford to waste precious time in between SMSes. What if your life depended on one text message?? Say you were kidnapped, and you wanted to message an SOS to someone, and you desperately needed help ASAP because the kidnapper would be transferring you elsewhere, you couldn't afford to lose time, right? This one's extreme (but still probable). Anyhow, if you wanted to meet someone, and say you were waiting already for almost an hour, as the person you were waiting for received the message about the meeting place an hour late, it's a grrr, right? I've already tested the networks on their punctualities, like sending an SMS to a nearby friend, and asking him if he received it already seconds after sending. And results say he received it on time. So what does it differ when it comes to longer distances? Yeah, sure: waves do travel faster for shorter distances, but the radios already proved that it's just a matter of seconds.

The point is, why can't they just send it on time? They can do it real-time when it comes to calls, they can also do it in texts.

I envy you who have a crumpler

You who can spare thousands of bucks on richly texturized
and colorfully pleasing fabric
You who can enjoy the compartmentalization and the protection
amid the compactness and the style
You who can dash around and stash around
the lightweight burgundies of drudgery

You who can carry with you The Chumpy, The HooJah,
The Lanyard, The Hee-Goer and The Western Lawn
You who have the opportunity to sway with the wind
without having to bend your backs
You who have the fashion for living eruditely
while simultaneously elegantly

I envy you who have the time and the fortune
to have what you want
and not be punished for doing so later on

Weird struggles

Life has been a little bit depressing and stressful these days (thus the lack of updates). I have never had sleep that lasted for more than 3 hours (half of my usual sleeping length), thanks to the alternating drudgeries of Bio lab plates and long exams. In school, I get quick dozes during Math 53 class, and it sucks because I sit in the middle-front. So whenever my teacher sits down she's directly in front of me. I am utterly ashamed when I bow my head every once in a while. She just goes on with her lectures and drawings, and I gain my consciousness back the moment I see my notes with jagged curves and curly operands. And so goes on my struggles, one of the hardest ones I have ever undertaken. It really is a boo-hoo that the only class I manage to sleep is Math class when it's the only class that I'm in the middle-front. I mean, I could easily sleep during Bio lab because it's the main cause of all my miseries and sleeplessnesses (and I'm not exactly in the middle-front), but no-no, all the phyllotaxy and leaf morphology rubbish keep me awake.

In three words, let me describe college: STRESSFUL AND LONELY. It makes me want to turn back time, during high school when I really had a lot of fun.

PS. I love you. =)) Kidding. PS. My wallet is getting thinner and thinner. :(( I'm broke. Un-broke me. :))