manong pwede magpa validate?

I wrote with such clarity, I remember , something about validation. "The Meaning of Meaning"

Well, i have a theory about friendster.com

Under the pretense of originally being a vehicle for meeting and finding past friends, schoolmates, future partners, and such; I think it's just one monstrous arena for self-validation.

~you can modify how you look to people. (photos, be creative)

~you can package yourself in exactly the way you want to present yourself. (profile)

it also always struck me as if one unconsciously "shelves" his or her friends into neat alphabetized packets.

Ah, and yes, the ultimate self-validation. testimonials that answer the most intriguing question one can pose. "how do you see me?" bilangin mo kung ilang mga kaibigan ang nag-add sa'yo para lang sabihin, "oy. bigyan mo naman ako ng testi. bigyan din kita." a sort of free market for being known, thought of, described, and in some cases, wanted.

They further exacerbated the situation by adding those new features like letting you know how many people have viewed your profile for the past so-and-so days. i remember my roommate used to count how many people 'came to visit' since she last checked. then she stipulates who came and saw and conKered.

Now roomie doesn't need to guess who comes to pay respects to her profile. the lovely folks at friendster.com came up with a newer feature that tells you exactly WHO views your profile. monitor your stalkers, will you?

why do you think i have a statcounter?

don't get me wrong. i have nothing against validation. it feels good to be wanted. come on admit it. you know you like people to fawn.

Lucky the one who has the luxury of choice. if fans come in droves, from various parts of the globe, above sea level or recently submerged. sometimes it depends who obsesses. who said fawners are. so fawnee decides who to sneer and avoid and who to smile upon with charm. who to attach to a leash, and who to beat away with a stick. others just collect them like keychains. to put it so crudely.

My point. it just amazes me how people constantly innovate the way in which they validate themselves. the vast areas to which pseudo-narcissistic propaganda operates. from a multimillion-user website, to something so simple as a parking ticket. *wink.

my future kids, listen up, mommy's got something to say

Today I just realized how my motherhood instincts are being honed from having a little brother.

It was Kostka grade school's Intrams today and Nickelodeon also came and "took over their school." Fun and games, slime, free stuff, dancing mascots, hot marshals, spongebob squarepants, and the stink of euphoria on every kid's face. splendid.

I never once let Miggy out of my sight, I cared if he was having fun or not, I went all out and won a prize for him by singing the spongebob theme song in German. "Wer wohnt in ein Ananas unter die See?" Schwammbob Quadrathose!! I wiped his face when he got donut sludge all over himself, I bought him drinks so he wouldn't be dehydrated, I took pictures, I fussed. I more or less took over the role of Mom and Manang Inday, his yaya.

To the point that when I went up to his classroom to check up on him, one of his classmates said, "Miggy! Your mommy's here!"
Yehehess.
For the record it's not the first time I've been mistaken for his mother. What can I say, either I look forty already or I look like I am capable of pre-teen pregnancy. (like i always say, if miggy were my son, considering our age gap, i gave birth to him when i was what? 12 years old.)

maybe it's abnormal, overdoing the sister-loves-miggy-poo bit. maybe i should make his life hell like normal sisters do instead of smothering the boy with love.

i may claim that i fear the thought of having children of my own someday. (ever heard your mother describe the pains of childbirth? oh screw the joy that allegedly comes with it, I'd rather have intact organs thank you very much.)

i also fear that i may not bring them up right. like they'll be ugly and criminal or something. i'll wake up one morning saying, "Who are these kids? and why are they calling me mommy??!"

but one of the "co-parents" said, "how nice naman miggy's sister. she takes care of her brother." yey, finally. so i figured maybe i have a shot in the handling-little-children thing. and i rather enjoyed today. being so excited for a kid's big day school activity. migsy actually loved me today. he usually hates girls cos they're "icky."

so if (a stress on the 'if') i choose to have little hayden christensen or eric bana jr. someday, i may be at least good at it. maybe a little fussy. and a tad overzealous. and maybe i'll name them badly, like darth or hulk. but still. there's love in there just the same. wuv wuv wuv.

vernacular

i had another lecture under another writer about the eternal question of whether or not vernacular languages are to be considered legitimate. dialectically, we are diverse. Hiligaynon, waray, tagalog, ilocano....

people say unification is key. a standard language for all. everybody's tongue. some say the diversity of our language hinders our national unity and consequent amalgamation.

por exemplo. my dad speaks ilonggo. the extent of my knowledge is this: "nagkaon ka na ga?" means, with inflection, "have you eaten?" all my ilonggo speaking cousins shall know is if i have eaten or not.

dois por exemplo. my mom speaks ilocano very very well. because of the marvelous english training in the private schools, i never learned any other language during my impressionable childhood. i could never haggle or ask for bargains. in high school i also couldn't tell if i was being sworn at or not. "kinnana" something to watch out for. but, i had some cousins who taught me a thing or two.

so. if and when you drop me in the Ilocano region, I may have to survive by way of:
"anya ti nagan mo?" (what's your name?)
--after establishing rapport,
"agdigos kan?" ( did/ will you take a bath?)
--and, establishing that conversee is hygienic,
"agkantutan tayon!" (let's have sex! otherwise, let's have an orgy!)
--at which point, with extreme politeness I shall end the repartee with
"agawid kan." (go home/ go away.)

so. i argue, that by certain key vernacular phrasings and the right attitude, we can reach out and touch someone in our very diverse country. i also argue, that certain things, like sex and one night stands, is universal. unity, pare, unity.

who says vernacular languages hinder our ability to connect to each other now?
huh? huh? what?

truck

and... BAM!!! it hits me.

for a decidedly friendly person, I don't have a lot of friends.

huh.

hintay

as if i'm not sick to my kidneys in hearing the expression, "just wait. dadating din yan. when the right time comes it'll come."

i consider myself a very patient person, honed from a life that consisted of waits and bated breaths. like wanting to pee but can't. and the pain in your crotch screams "bathroom!" but peabody says "not to worry. it'll come. when the right time comes, it'll come."

suppose you die from a tract infection?

dang it, i want something nice to happen in my life and i want it now! otherwise, take away all the crap im in.

it's better than feeling as if you're flushing time down the toilet with nothing spectacular to show for it. it's not as if I shit Time, you know. it gets used up too. really really quick. like a roll of tissue paper in a bout of indigestion. aw pooey.

Rainbows owee gayness.

As a tribute to all that is gay, I am typing this entry with the colors of the rainbow.

This was my conversation with anonymous gay man director prof who volunteered to help me/ or advice me no less, on my shifting preparations. Note, he was the one who gave his number and asked me to call him. also, for the benefit of sensitivity, i have nothing against gay people. just this one.

T: Hello? Yes, Good afternoon, may I please speak to Professor [bleep]?
Gay Man: Who's this?
U introduce myself.
T: I was asked po to call you?
Gay Man: What do you mean someone asked you to call me? That's bullshit! Aren't you going to ask something from me???!!!
T: [meek and polite] I was going to ask sana for your help in shifting? That is, if it is all right with you?
Gay Man: Where are you?.?
T: I'm at home po...
Gay Man: What are you wearing?? ... no, haha, im just joking. he said, What college?
T: Home Economics po..
Gay Man: UP??!
T: opo...
Gay Man: Then find out for yourself what the UP rules are!!! I refuse to go under or bend the rules for you!!! You find out for yourself!!!
and, before i get the chance to say "Thank you" or "sorry for the trouble i was just, if anything, asking if there is anything you could do" he slammed the phone down in my ear.

i understand where he's coming from. i was acutely aware that i was worming. or wheedling. it's just that, he could have saved me all the waiting if he said outright that he couldn't help me at all. he also could have said it nicely, if anything. I mean, you ask someone to call you just so you could bite their head off? really. I have never been talked to like that in my life.
maybe i caught him at a bad time. maybe he just is a mean temperamental gay bastard. or maybe he prefers to help little boys, i dunno. haha.
i was shaken at first then i started thinking that this isnt the first time ive done hand to hand combat with a gay man. nung high school there was this bakla who stopped in the middle of session road [nagalit siya kasi akala niya tinatawag ko siyang 'leandro' as in macho man horrid gay leandro kahit na tinatawag ko lang naman talaga yung friend ko na ang pangalan ay leandro nun] at sinabi sakin, pointing a manly finger and putting her yellow halter clad body into it "HIndi Ka MAGANDA!!!" then he.. she .. it stalked away.
Basta sinasabi ko lang. hindi talaga ako marunong makipag relate sa mga bakla.

Wake Me Up When September Ends

Oh Green Day Funk. Why?

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It's rather unfair. I believe that as a writer I am decaying. As a painter, I am obsolete. As a thinker, I'm tired.
The jolt came as I was reading through a social deviant, cult-worthy rock star's journal. Who says he doesn't like drugs but the drugs like him. A damn shame, really, when Marilyn Manson writes and paints better than you do.

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As everyone's redecorating their blogs, and as I am an eager-to-please conformist, I followed suit. What do you think? Actually, don't bother to answer that question, cos my comment links aren't working. So I'm not a whiz at html codes. Sue me. And whatever you think of it, is fine. What matters is that I don't cringe anymore everytime I view my own blog. I always got the feeling that it was turning into a giant throbbing monster thing. what with all the links and the pictures and the spreading disease-like labyrinth of disarray. This one's... i don't know.. narrower. Easier to grasp. or something.

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I smashed.. no, peeled (?) open my plastic piggy bank. [I'm so sorry, GLowy!!!! I'll tape you back together!!] I saved up more than 800 bucks in change. And hence, I am rich. Or... not. What to buy what to buy? I've had my eye on a cute white skirt i fell in love with the last time mom dragged me to Kamiseta (to buy jeans and jeans only.) It's shallow, I know, see what books I could buy with that money. Or shoes. But me want skirt. bad. really really bad. must. have. exhorbitantly. priced. white. frilly. skirt. Otherwise I'll have nightmares about it. The last time I wanted something this bad was when I wanted killer boots. and for two weeks before christmas I dreamt about boots that danced and shined and mocked me. and then at some point it flew and smacked me square in the middle of my forehead. killer indeed.

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Francis thinks I'm addicted to porn.

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I'm trying to cheat the system by attempting to shift into the college I want a semester early. Via Hanna's mom who's like, the female godfather. vault of UP connections. chummy chummy with the president. Wields awesome power. makes the best adobo. coerced acclaimed director Bhen Cervantes to plead my case. (He's gay.) He's supposedly trying to convince the CAL Secretary (also gay) to bend over and... er.. to bend the rules for me. Who knows what'll happen? Gay people who hold my rainbow-filled future in their large and fairy hands. Long Live the Queens. Hindi pa naman ako magaling makipag-relate sa mga bading. All this chorva chuva choo choo is making me Chuk chak nenoks.

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my dreams suck lately.

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spotted this guy whom i think is cute near the walkway railings. and, being the vicious stalking turtle that I am, peered over a concrete wall to look. the guard, suspecting that I was doing something illegal to the wall, shooed me away.

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as my memory rests
but never forgets what i lost
wake me up when september ends.