Saturday, November 15, 2008

The Melancholy of Ma'am Kristine: PLP Ghost Stories

Because of my URA appointment, I requested that my teaching schedule be changed. This is how my 6PM to 9PM teaching schedule came to be. And because I feel sorry for my students, I dismiss them as early as possible. This is how my predicament of being constantly left alone in the faculty room came to be.

There is a saying that describes what my co-teachers do whenever they leave me for the night. "Misery loves company", I believe. A lot of my co-teachers dislike being left alone in the faculty room at night for fear that they may become the main character of the latest school ghost story. Before leaving, it almost never fails that a co-teacher would say tell me that "Ay nako, ma'am. Marami talagang multo dito" before narrating his or her encounter with the school's sometimes visible inhabitants.

It's well past Halloween, but I thought it would be fun to tell some of the stories here.


From Sir Filipino Teacher
Second Floor Restroom

Shortly after their department head's untimely demise, he went to the second floor girls' restroom to call the janitress assigned to the floor to tell her to clean the department head's room. Because he was male, he could not enter the restroom, and instead called out to the only person he saw inside. No matter how many times he called out to her, the girl in the restroom would not move. He eventually gave up turned to leave only to find the janitress coming up the stairs. Surprised that he had been calling out to the wrong person, he looked back inside the restroom to find it empty.

Sixth Floor

It was late afternoon when he left his students who were practicing their Sabayang Pagbigkas presentation at the sixth floor. On his way back up to check on them, he was met by a number of hysterical students from that class. One of their classmates had fainted because while they were practicing, they saw a group of children watching them and copying all of their movements.

Education Faculty Room Restroom

He says that one of his co-teachers saw a white lady in the faculty restroom.


Ma'am Dean
Fourth Floor Senior Faculty Room

This teacher and her student assistant were alone in the faculty room when suddenly the printer began printing a document on its own.

Fifth Floor

She was walking down the hallway when she felt a sudden weight on her back and heard a child laughing at her ear.


Sir Natural Science Teacher

Fourth Floor Faculty Room

It was Saturday and he was closing up the faculty room when suddenly he heard someone whispering in his ear.


Sir Part-Time Filipino Teacher

Third Floor

He was on his way home after a late class when suddenly a door slammed shut when there was no wind and no one was there. He ran down the stairs as fast as he could.


Sir PE Teacher
Old PE Department Faculty Room

Shortly after the untimely demise of one of their colleagues, the members of the PE department were stuck in the faculty room waiting for the rain to let up. While they were doing their business, they heard someone calling out to their companion, "Sir B---! Sir B---!" When Sir B-- went out to see who it was, there was no one there.

Fourth Floor Faculty Room Hallway

On his way home, after locking up the faculty room, he noticed that no matter how much he walked he couldn't reach the end of the short hallway between the faculty room door and the fourth floor stairway landing.

Sixth Floor Classroom

In the middle of his class, his students suddenly ran to the front of the room, frightened. When he asked his students why, they told him "Sir, hindi niyo ba naririnig yung mga batang umiiyak? Ang lakas." He told them to return to their seats, but they were too afraid to do so and he spent the rest of the class with his students seated at his feet.
His students and dance troupe members also tell him that they always see children running around the sixth floor, as if in play. The children run and hide whenever they hear him coming. He jokingly claims that the ghostly children are afraid of his loud voice.


Urban Legends
Mango Tree

It's a true story that a girl asked her boyfriend to climb up the school's mango tree to pick some mangoes. The boy fell off the tree and died. Some claim that they see the boy sitting on the mango tree at night. Also, the mango tree doesn't bear much fruit nowadays when it used to bear lots of fruit in the past.

The child in red

A child wearing red is seen in various parts of the school at the oddest times.

Spirit Parade

A couple that used to work as maintenance crew claim that they sometimes see ghostly figures around the school grounds. The ghostly figures enter the school and climb up to the higher floors in the wee hours of the morning.


Personally, I've never seen any of these spirits. I have to admit, I fear being left alone, but I don't really have much of a choice. That's life. Thankfully, so far, prayer has kept me safe. And, if I end up meeting one of these ghosts, maybe my prayers can save them, as well.

Sunday, November 09, 2008

Out of the fullness of the heart...

There are words which we speak that we often wish we could take back. In one night, I spoke a thousand words I wish I had not spoken. Granted, the people who heard me were trusted and close, it was still unbecoming to speak that way.

It is always inexcusable to speak ill of one's relatives.

While I have my reasons, I cannot justify my words. Still, the frustration caused the words to spill, unbidden, unrestrained. Only minutes after they were completely and fully expressed did I feel the greatest of regrets and the burden of guilt. But, what has been said cannot be taken back.

Out of the fullness of the heart, the mouth speaks.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Mixed Feelings?

The images in the news should have been poignant. Smoke poured out of the second floor faculty wing of Philippine Science High School, Diliman. Fire fighters were storming the halls of my alma mater. Flames could be seen flickering through windows I once gazed out of.

And yet, there was nothing.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Five Tickets

Give yourself five tickets to be foolish, but you should use them wisely.

It's quite interesting how we constantly use the excuse that we're only human, when we rarely forgive ourselves for being human.

Love and sex are two aspects of our lives where we are most human. When we love, when we need love, when we want lovin', these are the times when we seem incapable of thinking straight. These are the times when we cannot seem to control our urges. We find ourselves seeing more, hearing more, feeling more. And, even when our minds tell us to do otherwise, we can't seem to find the willpower to do what our minds tell us. Then, we get burned. Then we chastise ourselves for being stupid. We hate ourselves because we already knew what was going to happen. We punish ourselves with insecurity and guilt.

I knew...

I knew that sitting at the lobby of that hotel room was not only wrong, it would lead to pain and heartache. It took me a year to come to terms with that. It took me even longer to let go of the feelings that formed that night. It wasn't that I held hope that it could happen, because it was not something I wanted to happen. It was because I could not forgive myself for what happened, what I allowed myself to feel.

My beloved, do not make the same mistake. We are logical people. We are allowed to make mistakes because we are not perfect. It is not that one mistake that ruins lives, it is living in the shadow of that mistake that brings us to ruin.

Trying to tell me something,

I don't know what to say.... really, I don't.
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Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Dr. Banzon in the hospital

From Dr. Villagonzalo's email to SanD

"Dr. Banzon is confined at the Marikina Valley Medical Center, Room 6011 (9am to 10pm visiting hours)."

Ah... I don't even know where that is! From what I heard he's already lost a lot of weight, and now he's back on the sick bed again. It's a bit more worrying than usual.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

The Melancholy of Ma'am Kristine: Midterm Angst

For the midterm results, a mode of 9/40 says a lot.

It says a lot about your abilty to teach.

It says a lot about your expectations.

It says a lot about your need to change some things.

Quite frankly, I don't want to find out what it says, but the numbers are screaming at me in this piercing manner that I can't ignore. Perhaps, it's for the best that I take that GA job.


Apparently, there's such a thing as 'too nice', especially if you're a teacher.


I'm sure they don't find Physics interesting, but they will be interested in it. Their college lives depend on it.


I find it painfully sad that I knew who was going to pass that exam without even giving it. No pleasant surprises there.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

PdLR's Thought for the Day

Life is complicated. If you want it simple, you may be better off dead.

Friday, April 25, 2008

Two Steps and Two Seconds

Does it matter how far I go
when I'll always be two steps behind you?
Does it matter how well I do
when I do things two seconds after you?
Does it matter how high I reach
when I'll always be covered by your shadow?
And why would it matter if I sped up,
when I'll always be far too slow?

Screw you, LiNa@Jobstreet

To keep a long story short, is it too much to ask for a job that has something to do with your field of study?! I did not slave away for six and a half years in BS Applied Physics to become a call center agent, secretary, administrative assistant, tech support, etc. etc.

People who first find out about my course say, "Ah... there are many opportunities in Physics" (provided they don't say, "O? What's that?"). Well, I'm not seeing opportunities anywhere. There are opportunities for engineers, for geologists, for biologists, and chemists. But Physicists?

I don't know... Maybe I'm not looking hard enough. Maybe I'm just being an idiot. Or maybe my pride is getting in the way of employment. I really don't know. I'm from UP, from Pisay, even, everyone else says doors should be opening up for me left and right.

I hate this.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

PdLR's Thought for the Day

"Not so bad" does not necessarily equate to "good", much less "excellent".

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Bloggers: Mind what you write

I'm not really sure if it's a glitch in Blogger, now that it's affiliated with Google. By typing in the correct keywords, you can get snippets of restricted entries in blogs or view blog entries that have been deleted. Granted, I think there's an option in the blog settings to make your blog un-Google-able (Blogger entries cannot be seen by Yahoo!Search and Dogpile), but be sure that this is selected, especially when you're writing very personal information about yourself. Better yet, don't upload very personal information about yourself. I know that the blogosphere is supposed to be the world's collection of online journals, wherein you should be free to express yourself, but never forget that the blogosphere is also a very public place. Be careful what you write.

Google also stores some old entries. If you search for an old blog entry and Google finds it, if that entry is no longer available when you click the main link, you can click the "Cached" (Naka-cache) link at the bottom and the entry will most probably pop out. I don't delete blog entries because I never had any reason to, but I suggest you check and make sure that what you decided ought to be gone really is gone.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

What a friend!!! *insert sarcasm*

I'm actually talking about myself.

"It's just that [that person] acts like [that person] has an EQ of 10."

I was evil enough to say something like that as an excuse. But, that really was the reason why we kept this really shallow secret. Well, they say if one other person knows your secret, that's one person too many; there happens to be four of us, so that's, like, four people too many or three people too many, depending on what your reference point is. (Damn Physics mindset. Go away when I'm blogging!) So, the odds of keeping this secret just dropped dramatically. So, the problem is no longer "How do we keep it?" it graduates to "Who should spill the beans?"

I volunteered, because I was the one who engineered the darn thing, to begin with. Best it come from the horse's mouth. Another person making excuses for me would make everything worse.


One thing people have to realize is damage control and repair are critical things in friendships. This means perfect friends aren't the people who've never hurt you, they are the people who know how to minimize the damage and assume responsibility for the repair. Unfortunately, there are many people who, when their relationship is damaged, pull as far away as possible. Not only does this make it impossible for the offender to do the repair, it also allows for the wound to fester, become infected, turn into gangrene and kill. O_O (mental note: Blog only when you're fully awake. End note.)

Heavens know how many friendships I've destroyed in this manner.

Hopefully, I won't do it again. Especially now that this person has come to help repair, or, at least put a temporary patch over the pain.

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Dream: Rebel Ivan

It's one of those dreams that had no prodding, no source stimulus. Most people dream about things because of a movie or a conversation (much like Ralph does after I make a preposterous proposition of a couple), but apparently, I don't belong in that category. My dreams come from out of nowhere. O_O

It began with an unfortunate event that I don't really remember. I angered someone I shouldn't have: a higher up in the country and that person was making my life a living hell. Of course, my dream had to be set in a world full of political turmoil and uncertainty.

I was just being me and that place wasn't the right place for it.

So, a few UP friends and I get caught in the middle of crossfire between said person who hates me and a rich old guy who looks like Eddie Garcia (Leonard, in my dream, is the one that points out that the rich guy looks like Eddie Garcia). Eddie Garcia lookalike helps us, but at this point, Ivan has already gone missing. Our mutual enemy has taken him as some sort of cruel and twisted punishment for me.

In a swimming pool (yes, a swimming pool, don't ask me why), I was moping and crying right after the lady who hates me tries to kill me by pulling my head down by my hair under the water. Glai helps me out and she leaves me alone. The weird part about my "crying" in my dream is, despite the fact that there was the characteristic tightening of the chest and burning in the eyes, the tears don't fall. So, I generally look like I'm wheezing and hyperventilating, which is very dangerous in a swimming pool, if I may add. Leonard comes by and tells me he saw the catfight. I ask why he didn't help. He said it wouldn't have been smart to get involved in a fight between women. I throw my left Islander shoe at him and it hits him on the back. Glai, behind me, laughs.

Out of the pool and sitting by what looks like a ferry station, I see a small wooden houseboat painted bright yellow and purple. I have a weird feeling about the boat and stare at it. It's big enough for only one person to ride in and looks like it was made to sink, even with its shiny new coat of paint. There is a stick used as a brake and for maneuvering hanging off the side. It's being carried away by the current. While I'm watching the boat, Ivan's head pops out from inside the house. I give a yell and try to go to him, but the boat is moving too fast. He tries to use the stick to brake, or so we could pull him up, but the stick breaks when it hits the glass window of the ferry station. I scream and run, but I can't catch him.

The next scene is, I'm lying on a bed I'm sharing with three other people. The one closest to me is Leonard. Ivan is still missing, and I'm still crying. I wonder out loud where Ivan could be and what could have happened to him. Leonard couldn't tell me that Ivan was alive, but he said he hoped, too, that Ivan would come back. Then, I ask him, "Asan na si Glai?"
Leonard replied, "Umuwi sa Cavite." He takes my hand and squeezes it reassuringly and I cry even harder. I know he can feel me shaking, even though he can't hear the sobs. Minor detail, but dream!Leonard has much smaller hands than the one in real life.

After what appears to be a long time, I wake up next to my mom. I'm back at home. I go to the bathroom to, surprise surprise, cry. While I sit on the steps leading into the tub, Ivan comes in and hugs me. He's wearing a light blue button-down polo with a white shirt inside. His hair is cut in that stupid flat-top hair style that was popular in the 80's, but somehow he looks good with it. As he holds me close, he tells me, "Give me something to miss." For the first time in my dream, I cry for real. Tears begin to fall. Then realization hits me.
"To miss, you mean aalis ka ulit?" I ask him.
He tells me, "We need your help. Speak to the indigenous peoples for us." Apparently, I'm some kind of advocate on the matter. He leads me out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom, and into the kitchen where three of his comrades are. one is a geophysicist, another is some old guy who is a leader of the group, and the third is a familiar face: Peter. Peter greets me and I, him. I ask the geophysicist guy if he knows Lourdes. He doesn't. Peter explains that that guy (Jun?) never got to practice geophysics and that he was a schoolteacher. I take note of that information. The three guys explain to me what they need from me and I agree to help. I ask them how they came across Ivan. If they picked him up after his boat sank, or something. Peter replies, "Hindi naman ganun. Nakita namin siya sa Quiapo. Tinulungan namin siya."
Then, they pack up and leave. Before they do, Ivan takes me into my room to "talk" to me in private. He kisses me and tells me he won't be back for a while. I'm already contemplating how our life would be like. We're not yet married, after all. I tell him it isn't like him to become what he is. He tells me, "The order of the movement is a lot better than the lack of order in the country." He further explains to me that some British group is financing their operations. From the way he talks, I sense that he is not only an "advocate", he is also one of the leaders. We do the deed in my dream, but my brain censored it like an MTRCB member. V_V

I am now sitting in Ivan's camp. It's idyllic, like the small barrios in the provinces we've been to. I'm holding a pad of intermediate paper and a black Dong-A gel pen. I'm writing down what appears to be the fate of those around me. Geophysics guy is still a teacher. The old guy is dead. Peter is highly impassioned to the point that he seems to have lost his mind and has begun sacrificing chickens to the tree spirits. Some of the other members of the camp say they will have words with him once they begin running out of chickens for food, but that he is harmless up to that point. In my dream, I predict that he will get to the point where they will have to restrain his activities. I frown at a chicken that is nailed to a tree.
Then, I have another premonition. Ivan's parents are in danger. The group gets a hold of plans which detail the assassination of two people. Ivan recognizes the locations to be his parents' workplaces. He leaves camp to save his family and I go after him. I watch him get shot because he is outnumbered and ill-armed (Ivan, love, in case you become a rebel leader whose parents are about to be killed by military assassins, if plan to save them, bring more than two bullets, okay?). Because there is an exchange of fire, I can't go to him. I can't see him.

I wake up because the sight of seeing the guy who shot Ivan convulsing as his body is riddled by bullets fired at him by Ivan's comrades is too much for me.

Huh. It's so strange how long and detailed this is. But, that's really what I remember. Maybe I should go see a psychiatrist or something.

Saturday, March 08, 2008

Dream: Ghost Fighter!

I was a delusional kid back in elementary school and I liked to pretend that I was Dennis (aka. Kurama from Yu Yu Hakusho). Last night, without any bidding, I dreamed I was Kurama, which was just too weird.
It was a fight. Post Makai tournament. I was Shuuichi. I was standing beside Yusuke and Hiei. The guy we're fighting makes these weird spikes which look like gnarled roots sprout up from the ground. I'm impaled. There are exactly sixteen holes in my body, from the back straight out the chest. Before I can even feel the pain, I am outside the body, watching as the lights go out of Shuuichi's green eyes.

"Kurama!" Yusuke yells from below.

And then, next thing I know, I'm standing at the bottom. The spikes are gone and so is the body. The enemy is stuttering, confused and frightened. Kurama should be dead. I should be dead. Then, I go on to say something like, "My body took a lot of damage, but it's confused. Should it be in this form or in that? That way, I survived."

When I woke up, I was all O_O and "oh, cool". LOL.

Friday, March 07, 2008

Dream: De ja vu?

I had a long conversation with Ivan last night about the things that happened between one of our college friends and myself between two to three years ago. My dream probably stemmed from that.

There were several of us who went out that day. In my dream, it was one of those rare times when our work schedules jived and we ended up whole, as a group. It was a conspiracy, I tell you. Our friends contrived to make that person and I talk. It was a short conversation:

That person: I suppose, because of everything, you're no longer...
Me: Please, I don't want to discuss this. Let's not ruin this reunion between friends.
That person: So you still feel the same way?
Me: Does it matter at this point? I don't see any reason why I should have to tell you...

And then I stretched my arms out, a bit exasperated, and then I felt pain. OMG, the pain in my muscles from joining that Body Pump class woke me up, and I was given another reason why that class is now my favorite. +_+

Thursday, March 06, 2008

Save Up?

Perhaps it's the really kuripot side of me that makes touching my savings unthinkable. I'm always thinking, What if something comes up? So, my money is pretty much going stale at the Pasig Cooperative, under the watchful eye of Ka-Impok. I didn't touch the money to buy a new laptop and I have no plans of touching that money to fix up my car. I'm not going to spend my life savings on such short-sighted things. A trip to the moon or a functioning green house in Antartica, now those are things I would spend money on.

A few years ago, back when we were still 2/3 of M13's "Powerpuff Girls", Patty Jhocson and I talked about managing money. She said something along the lines of, "It's not just that we have a lot of money, we do, but there are a lot of people who earn as much as our parents do. It's what we do with that money we have that counts."

And, newsflash, people, she's right.

I didn't realize until the people around me began earning money how most people really dealt with their money. The money that is left in the ATM account that the office uses to disperse salaries is always for something in particular, never for the future. No one saves for a rainy day, anymore. Well, I do, but I've been informed (with as much affection as possible) that I am weird.

But, is opening a bank account really what it's all about? I have a savings account at BDO, where the interest rate is 0.75%. Two years ago, the bottomless iced tea at Chocolate Kiss was worth P45. If I put that P45 in the bank, and I withdrew that money plus the interest it got two years later (which would mean, like, now), I would get P45.6775. That seems like a good deal, considering I just sat around and waited for my money to earn 68 centavos on its own. However, the last time I went to Chocolate Kiss, which was last Tuesday, the bottomless iced tea was worth P48. So my money from two years ago plus interest isn't even worth one bottomless iced tea with the honey watered down.

It's not just about saving up, it's about investing. Yeah, yeah, I know, it's risky business. I know squat about managing a portfolio and my bottomless iced tea money isn't even enough to buy a fund manager his own bottomless iced. So, right now, I'm considering putting some money into a Unit Investment Trust Fund, which is, to make a long explanation short, a fund that allows the bank's fund managers take care of investing your money for you. But I'm apprehensive about investing right now. The markets are unstable (because of social uncertainty and the US recession) and all the banks I've gone to have admitted that the value of their portfolios (and, effectively the money of their investors) are falling.

So, my battle plan is to stuff a certain amount of money (preferably money I earned and not the money I've been saving) into a short term time deposit, let it brew there a bit (earning a couple of pesos along the way), then invest half of it at the end of the year. I'm hoping that the US elections next year and the economic reforms implemented this year will help the market improve by 2009. If all goes well, the rest of my time deposited money will be invested by the end of March 2009.

Does that seem reasonable or should I just ask Ka-Impok to take care of everything?

Monday, March 03, 2008

Sympathizing with Padre Damaso

These are the last lines of our P.I. 100 Noli Me Tangere play. That play turned out well because of the efforts of my groupmates. I had such an awesome team to direct. Here are some of the closing lines of the play, which was a parody of Noli and aimed to sympathize with the story's villain, Padre Damaso.

"May hustisya ba ang Diyos? Bakit niya parurusahan ang isang tao ng ganito? Hindi madaling tumanggi sa tukso. Hindi madaling magparaya sa mga umiinsulto. Akala ko ba'y mapagpatawad at mahabagin ang Diyos? Bakit hindi niya dininig ang panalangin ng isang alagad na matagal na nanilbihan sa kanya?

"At, sa pagtatapos, aking ipinaaalam sa inyong mga minamahal naming manonood na ang pagkamatay ni Padre Damaso ay bunga ng kalungkutan. Hinihiling namin sa inyong iyuko ang inyong mga ulo at ipagdasal ang kanyang kaluluwa na sana'y maligtas mula sa mga apoy ng Purgatoryo. Sapagkat nilahian man ng ulupong ang mga ganitong nilalang ng Diyos, sila pa rin ay mga tao: natutukso, nasasaktan, nagagalit, at higit sa lahat, ay nangangailangan ng inyong paguunawa."

Sunday, March 02, 2008

Missing Methodology...

Modesty aside, when I conceptualized this study on decoupling in August of 2007, I believe I was demonstrating an incredible amount of foresight. I wanted to treat the GDP/GNP and currency as products of a complex system and use them as indicators of economic coupling or decoupling. Basically, I wanted to find out if a model Asian economy (probably Thailand or Indonesia, not the Philippines) would decouple from the US economy and, if so, what next? Would it couple with China? Would some form of independence be achieved? The big BUT of this study, though, is the methodology.

What would be the best way to go about the study?

At that time, I tried to devise a risk, compensation, and response model, but it's a bit complicated (needs to be tested on simpler systems), is computationally expensive (but not as much as MD), and would not be able to work for longtime simulations (try simulating several years). I'm also considering projection methods, which would use previous data to predict the future trends. I'm just not sure what would work well on coupled data like the ones that I would have to use. And then, of course, I could just use differential equations.

Hmmm... what to do, what to do? I want to finish a concept paper on this before June so I can formally propose it to Dr. Banzon and my prospective research partner.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Let's vote for Tubbataha as one of the 7 Wonders of the World

In the midst of all these investigations and controversies, I think we should take a moment to channel our energies to something more positive.

The New7Wonders website says:

"Voting for nominees will continue through 31.12.08. A New7Wonders Panel of Experts will then select the 21 finalists, from which voters worldwide will elect the New 7 Wonders of Nature."

The Philippines's very own Tubbataha Reef is currently at No. 28. You know what to do. Click this link and vote,

Monday, February 04, 2008

A Little Black Book

My 82-year old grandfather has a little black book. Every year, he changes that little black book, filling it with relevant names and birthdays, with other pertinent information in his life. To a man who came from a time when a man's virility is of utmost importance and is best reflected not just by the number of children he has, but by the number of women he keeps, his little black book is quite important. The worn out little leatherette booklet that I noticed him flick through every now and then, for me, was just another reminder of his many indiscretions as a man of his time.

My lasting memories of my grandfather are of conversations beginning with "O, hija, ano'ng grade mo na?" and ended with "Mag-doktora ka. Mainam na may doktorang nakakabit sa pangalan mo. Nirerespeto ka kahit saan ka pumunta." Even as a young child, I knew how title-conscious my grandfather was. But, to me, he was just a man who came from a time when a man's accomplishments are best measured by the titles he holds and the money he earns. Despite this, he's one of the many reasons I decided to get a PhD. "Doctor pa rin naman, of Physics nga lang," I would joke.

Our conversation during this afternoon's reunion started a bit differently from what I was used to. "I have 47 grandchildren," he told me and Tito Danny, the husband of one of my mother's sisters. I was curious, because I knew he only had 29 grandchildren from his 11 children by his legitimate wife, my grandmother. He opened his little black book and showed me three neatly handwritten columns of the names of his children. I think he had 18 in all. Beside the name of each child, he had written how many grandchildren he had by that child. He proudly counted his grandchildren off. "47," he said with no small amount of pride. I later on learned that aside from the names of all his children, the birth dates and phone numbers of each child was contained in that little black book. Every time he got a new black book, this very important information, he meticulously rewrote.

Now, I'm not trying to romanticize my grandfather's little black book. I don't doubt that amongst the names of his children are the names of some of his friends, even some of his old girlfriends. But, the very fact that he would take the time to write his children's names down in that small volume wherein he keeps what information he considers important to him made me see him in a slightly different light. It made me realize that he did care for things outside his reputation.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Like Clockwork

  1. Mood swings that put British weather to shame,
  2. Strong desire to stuff myself with all kinds of fattening comfort food,
  3. Painful cystic acne that imply that I have yet to win that battle with sebum that began in puberty,

and then, finally, the telltale nearly unbearable pain in my abdomen. Every month, they happen without fail. They sound like horrible things, and trust me, they're no walk in the park, but I'm always grateful whenever I these signs arrive. After several years of periodic amenorrhea, they don't seem so bad.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

WTF?! No signal?!

It was, apparently, a nationwide problem. (GMANews.TV)

It was around 16:10 when I noticed that my phone status was "No Access" rather than its usual "GLOBE" or "For Emergency use Only". I was concerned because Ivan, who was supposed to meet me at 16:00 had yet to arrive. I found it a bit strange since I was in an area where the signal is always pretty good.

I did the first thing I always do when I can't get a signal, I dialed *77#. Nothing. Perhaps a phone glitch like "Insert SIM"? I turned my phone off and turned it on after a minute or so. The "Searching" status was on for about five minutes before reverting to the dreaded "No Access".

I assumed the worst and thought that it was because I had yet to pay my phone bill, so I quickly changed into my TM sim. I went to the 7-11 next door and bought a load card for my TM sim, but when I turned my phone on, the status was still "No Access". I was quick to berate myself for losing my Sun sim.

I decided to go old school and use the phone booth, but when I dialed Ivan's cel number, it was unattended, as well. Frustrated, I called Leonard who told me all Globe subscribers had no signal. My first thought was, "Well, crap." After ending my conversation with Leonard, I decided to wait for Ivan a bit longer. When he didn't show up, I went to the badminton place we were supposed to go to, and found him there.



When I was in elementary, meeting up required that you knew what time you were going to meet and exactly where. With no way to communicate in transit, the need for a definite agreement was great.

In high school, I had a pager. I usually gave the excuse that the messages never got to me, which they oftentimes didn't, so the pager really wasn't much of an improvement. I remember this one time that my high school friends and I were supposed to meet, I waited over an hour for them at National Bookstore only to receive their page long after we'd met up that they would be late.

Near the end of high school, I got my first celphone. I thought it was frivolous and expensive, especially since I already had a pager. Now, it's indispensable. Times like this, I realize how much so.

My, how things change is such a short time...

Monday, January 14, 2008

Nostalgia Lyrics Trip: Laser Squadron Maskman

Tagalog Opening Theme

Humanda na kayo,
Kampon ng kadiliman.
Oras na ng pagtutuos
Kasamaan ay dapat matapos

Na. Heto na sila.
Bayaning tagapagtanggol,
Sa masam'y lipipol.

Maskman, kayo lang ang pag-asa!
Iligtas kami sa marahas na kadiliman
Kami'y inyong ipaglaban!

Sige! Sige! Laban, Maskman!
Ipagtanggol ang kapayapaan.
Sugod! Sugod! Laban, Maskman!
Pagsanggalang ninyo ang katarungan.

Buong mundo'y magpupuri't magpupugay, "Mabuhay!"


Bwahahahah.... I missed that show. I will now go out to hunt for more Tagalog-dubbed sentai series.

Nostalgia Lyrics Trip: Laser Squadron Maskman Ed Theme

I transcribed the lyrics from the DVD. I hope I got it right. Wahahahah.... fun.... I feel like I'm five again. I still prefer Jetman, though. I liked the angst. =p


Ang mga bayaning magiting
Walang takot sa bangis ng kalaba'y
Di umuurong

Tagapagtanggol ng inaapi
Mga huwarang sa tungkuli'y tapat
Nakahandang mag-alay ng buhay

Maskuman, tanod ng kapayapaan
Maskuman, laging maaasahan
Dapat nating tularan ang kagitingin

Wednesday, January 09, 2008

First Letter

Tagged by Ma-anne. Didn't think it would be so hard to fill up.


Instructions: Use the first letter of your name to answer each question. They must be places or names, nothing made up. You can't use own name for boy/girl's name question. If can't answer, skip to next one.

Famous singer: Kyla

Four-letter word: Kiss (mwah!)

Street: Kaayusan St. (Ivan's address <3)

Colour: Kulay ube! (wahahahahah...), khaki (thanks, Cole)

Gift/Present: Kotse? =D

Vehicle: Kia

Things in a souvenir shop: Keychain

Boy name: Khail

Girl name: Krista

Movie title: King Kong or Kill Bill x_x

Drink: Khalua

Occupation: King =p

Celebrity: Kristin Kreuk

Magazine: K (yung kay Kris Aquino)

City: Kansas

Sports: Karate

Fruit: Kiat-kiat, kiwi fruit

Reason for coming late to work: Kinapos sa pamasahe, kulang sa gas?

Something you throw away: Karton

Something you shout: Kiyaaah!!!

That's done. I now tag Ralph, Hasmin, Celine, Donna (have you been tagged?), Joy, and Patrick

January 8, 2008

This was a memorable day at the very least. A lot of things happened: some momentous no matter how you look at it while other events were important and noteworthy only to us. There were a lot of reasons to celebrate. Small things, unexpected things, and even things that bring incomparable joy were what colored so vibrantly the beginning of our sixth year together as a couple.

You just know that there are many things to look forward to when you have beginnings like this.