PLEESHOR ME

It is too bad that Starstruck and Star Circle Quest won't accept people of my age, these pictures would have added to their ratings. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!





Ok, ok, ok! I admit those were digital shots from the studio and they did something for that photo. But, that is only to get rid of two pimple marks and a few scars. Otherwise, that would still be me on my relax and non-toxic day.

THE ROMANTIC PINOY

Filipinos are indeed romantic!

One great testimony to the Romantic Pinoy is our music. Not only are the lyrics written with love flowing through the lines, but the melody and the orchestration of our music are reflections of our passions.

It was therefore a great treat when Ayala Corporation celebrated its 170th year yesterday with a concert dubbed as “Hindi kita Malimot: The Filipino as Romantic” featuring the country’s premiere (and accordingly the most expensive!) San Miguel Philharmonic Orchestra (SMPO) with Prof. Ryan Cayabyab leading SMPO in playing classic Filipino Love Songs.

The concert was for free which was staged at the lobby of Ayala Tower One in Ayala Triangle (for that evening, portion of Ayala Avenue from Makati Ave. to Paseo de Roxas was closed).


The Lobby of Tower One

Love songs like “Hindi Kita Malimot”, “Kataka-taka”, “Dahil Sa’yo, “Maalaala Mo Kaya” serenaded Manila’s well-heeled society and Makati’s ordinary employees. All of the music were Cayabyab’s arrangement and were played in public for the first time last night.

Filipinos penchant for drama is evident in Cayabyab’s arrangements and seeing how the ordinary folks reacted to the music is truly a manifestation that Cayabyab was able to capture the hearts of Filipinos. The soaring melody of the strings rising into a crescendo, followed by the rolls of the timpani and the clashing of the cymbals, then a soft violin solo is mesmerizing. I don’t know, but probably realizing how good our music is that I had goose bumps all throughout the evening. Or probably it is just because I am really a hopelessly romantic fool.

As an encore, SMPO played what Cayabyab called as “something pedestrian”. They played the full orchestra version of Parokya ni Edgar’s “Mr. Suave". And guess where it received most of the applause? At the back portion where most of the ordinary folks were standing. SMPO put class on “Mr. Suave” with Cayabyab gamely urging the crowd to shout “hoi! hoi! hoi! hoi! hoi! hoi!.” The economic disparity, however, among the crowd last night was very evident with those seated in front just keeping mum, while those at the back standing were clapping their hands and doing the “hoi! hoi! hoi!”.

But that was only part one of the show.

After the intermission, Eugene F. Castillo, who already made his mark in the US, took the baton for the SMPO and led the orchestra in playing fairy tale suits. The greatest treat for the night, however, was when Cecille Licad went onstage and performed Ravel’s Concerto in G with the SMPO.


Cecille Licad

I know, some of us here had bad experience in dealing with Licad’s behavior when she visited Silliman in 1998. But Cecille Licad is Cecille Licad. She is one hell of a performer! You don’t have just to listen to Licad’s music, you also have to see her perform.

There is only one word I can say about Licad’s performance (and I know Ryan would love this! hehehehehe), it’s “orgasmic”. Bless me Ryan for I know I’ve sinned but I just can’t help but think that when Licad performs, it is as if she is making love (or having sex to be blatant) with the piano. Watching her expression (since her face was focused by the camera and projected on the two wide screen) it is as if you are also carried with whatever emotion she brings and as the music rise into a climax, it is as if I am having my climax too.

The people of course did not let the chance pass by, after performing the concerto, they made Licad performed another piece from Ravel.

Obviously I had a great evening last night even if I was standing for almost two hours. Ayala Corporation, of course, wouldn’t present something mediocre. Even the lobby of Tower One was filled with flowers and floral artworks of Jaime Augusto Zobel Ayala was projected at the ceiling of the lobby for the whole evening.

It, however, leaves me a sense of panghihinayang. Having to stand at the back, I’ve realized how most of us are really “culturally illiterate”. I don’t claim to be culturally informed though, but I know how to appreciate classics. Sadly, you would hear comments (that is what you gert when you are standing at back with them) like “sana may ocho-ocho”. Or probably from a Makati Office Girl who speaks the “coñotic” language and looks like any yuppies and would exclaim, “ang jologs naman!” if something was said out of their taste, only to be heard (by me, of course!) uttering the silliest comment I heard that night. Reacting when the voice over announced that there will be a ten-minute intermission, she exclaimed “saan na ang intermission?” She was of course expecting that when it was announced that there will be a ten-minute intermission, there would be an “intermission number.” And I thought she was the only one, when her lady companion arrived (from the rest room) and seeing the people standing, she asked, “anong nangyari?” To which her friend answered, “ten minute intermission daw.” Then she replied, “asan na ang intermission.” You could imagine how the contour of my face changed upon hearing that.

Well, what can I do? This is a free show and everyone, as in everyone!, were invited to watch.

I’M BACK!

Miss me? Accept it pipol, you miss me. Hehehehehehe.

Ok, so what happened to me for the last 18 days that I haven’t blog? A lot of things actually. There are plenty of things that I would want to share with you, plenty bad things to gripe about, plenty of stupid people to bitch - - but everytime I am in front of the PC, all of a sudden I feel lazy to write. Well, it was those days.

So, for the highlights of this month, here’s my report. I am finally a regular employee this non-life insurance company in Makati. For security purposes, I won’t be saying the name of the company here (actually, it’s more of I don’t want my big bosses to trace this site to me as I would be saying, ok “griping”, about this company in my blog).

These past two months were really trying months for me and Aldwyn knew that (he was the only one who had the chance to see me on those days). As you see, I was only on contract with the company since January 2003. My contract ended last January 16, upon my boss assurance, he said that I would immediately be taken by the company as part of their regular force. I hang on to that assurance, unfortunately it wasn’t an easy one.

I was interviewed again by our SVP Treasurer (he is the one who approves hiring of employees, our HR is a mere stamping pad). He told me that until I can submit my transcript of records that is the only time they can start the process. Fortunately the ever-dependable Moses Joshua Atega was there to help me get my TOR from Silliman and I was able to submit it before January 30.

I was already expecting that I won’t be receiving my Salary yet for the Jan. 30 so I have made provisions already. True indeed, I wasn’t able to get my Salary that day because nobody from our HR worked on it.

February came and I was expecting that by the 15th I would be receiving my Salary. But I was wrong, while my boss received a note from the HR head that our SVP has approved my hiring, nobody from the HR staff worked on it. It was really bad! I celebrated my 28th birthday with no money. Worst, those people from the HR blatantly said that why I am still working when my contract has already ended. I am really stupid right? Unfortunately I am not, I was working because my boss told me so. I was fuming mad already that even my boss had some taste already of my anger.

Now before you people cast some invectives against our HR, in fairness to them they don’t know the situation. It was only my boss and our SVP Treasurer that talked, trouble was their agreement did not trickle down to the people who would be implementing it. A miscommunication, but at what price to pay (a month that I did not received my salary).
After learning the true situation, it was only then that our HR started the process. I was made to take an IQ test and psychological test (and I tell you their material were already antiquated and the rumors was -- I am the one of those who had high marks), go through a series of interview with HR head, head of the IT and our SVP for properties, and had my medical exams.

February 27 came and I was hoping that I would finally be receiving my salary. But I was wrong again. The HR couldn’t catch up with the paper works. They, however, assured me that I would definitely be receiving my salary by the 15th of March.

First week of March, the HR Head talked to me and he said that finally the company is hiring me as a regular employee effective March 1. My first question of course was, “what will happen to that January 16 – February 29 period where I was working (and handling confidential information) for the company?” He answered, I would be receiving a different check for that based on my old rate. Then he said that management decided to reduced by 2,000 the salary that I am receiving as a contractual employee but in exchange would be giving me a 1,100 monthly meal allowance and another 1,000 gift cheque from SM. I said, “okay.” And as regular employee I would be entitled to until a 16th month salary and a medical, dental, optical health plan. And finally, to probably save them from the trouble that they have given me, instead of going through the regular 6-months probationary period, I would automatically be hired as a regular employee with a rank of a Supervisor I.

Whew! Finally last March 12, I received my salary (which was just in time for the midnight madness sale at Glorietta) and on the 15th I received my salary covering the period of Jan. 16 – Feb. 29.

So why did it took me only this day to write about this? I was actually busy having my therapy for all the heartaches that those two months that I was left hanging in the clouds. I t wasn’t easy you know. So what kind of therapy I have undergone? Shopping, my dear, shopping (hahahahahahahaha) and of course a trip to the salon.

How did I get through those two months living in Manila and commuting everyday without a clear income? Well, there is always my boss and my aunt to borrow money from, and being a seasoned survivor, there is always a hundred and one ways to save your last centavo.

Now talking about my company, this is the kind of company that I will grow old with. No, I don’t mean I would spend years working here, but I will age soon in this company. This is the company that won’t allow their ladies to wear an open-toe-shoes and no denims for men in Filipino, mag mukha kang manang dito! And I had my taste of this insane policy last Monday.

Have you ever been to a salon, have your haircut, and after your done you couldn’t help but smile because you feel good about your new hairstyle? I tell you I went through that last Friday. My first trip after getting my Salary was to go to Bench Fix Salon in Glorietta and had my haircut. I decided to have it trimmed shorter. But Mike, my regular stylist (mind you he is straight), added some twist, made me look a bit hip by putting some stylishly unkempt spike and I like it, my friends like it, my aunt like it, my church mates like it, my roommates like it. I feel good and I know I look good.

Monday came and then my boss saw me with the new hairstyle. True as I feared, he didn’t like it! He said James (our SVP Treasurer) might see me and reprimand for my hairstyle. “For what”, I would have asked, “for being stylish, for looking young?” Would my credibility be lost just because I have a “spiky hair”? I don’t look like the new- age punk in the eighties! I look good! But what can I do, argue over my hairstyle with a person who sense of being cool is so seventies? Whose jokes was so yesterday?!

So I have to make a compromise. So here I am with a little of those spike but not spiky enough to cause them the alarm. I hate it! But what can I do, I need this job to survive.

Finally! A much-deserved award for Sean Pean! And not only that, Hollywood gave this guy dubbed as "Hollywood's bad boy" for his not so pleasent relationship with Hollywood, a standing ovation. Great! Just Great! And the acceptance speech? Despite being snubbed a number of times by the Academy, he still said this:

Thank you. If there's one thing that actors know, other than that there weren't any wmds -- it's that there is no such thing as best in acting. And That's proven by these great actors that I was nominated with as well as the -- as well as the Giamattis, Cages, Downey Jrs., Nicholsons, etc. that were not nominated. We know how great all of you were.

TAGABUKID'S PRIDE

This is one of the reasons why I am proud to be a son of Bukidnon, that mountianous province located at the heart of Mindanao. We have a festival that celebrates our heritage and portray's authentic tribal song and dances, instead of those choregraphed moves from the other festivals in the country.

This may not be like Beth's Secret, but I have one secret to tell, I am proud a descendant of tribal cheiftain. Both my grandmothers are daughters or granddaughter of a Datu. Imagine that I have a Royal Blood! (hehehehehehe)

Bukidnon heritage kept alive
By Antonio Montalvan

IT has become a norm for many provinces and cities to
stage cultural festivals. Festivals are tourist
come-ons. They are crowd-drawers. They bring in
much-needed receipts.

In our enthusiasm to think of what festivals to stage,
we create traditions that weren't there to begin with
and pass them off as "indigenous." Many of our
festivals range from the bawdy to the bizarre. One
town in the country is even thinking of putting up a
"suman festival." At other times, we couldn't seem to
make up our minds whether this was an Ati-atihan or a
Brazil Mardi Gras. Other festivals are just plain and
simple bacchanalia.

One festival that certainly does not fall into this
category -- at least not yet -- is Bukidnon's Kaamulan
Festival, held during the month of March each year.
The Kaamulan is anything but contrived.

It all began in 1974. It was the fiesta of Malaybalay,
May 15, in honor of San Isidro Labrador. The town's
vice mayor then, Edilberto Mamawag, thought of
inviting some indigenous Bukidnon tribespeople to
town. Mamawag thought a few dance steps by the natives
at Plaza Rizal would enliven the fiesta-goers.

That simple idea caught fire. A former reporter for
the Manila Times, Mamawag had at that time a guest
Manila reporter who later wrote about it for a
national magazine. That signaled the start of
Kaamulan's fame. One year led to another. On Sept. 16,
1977, the Regional Development Council adopted
Kaamulan as the regional festival of northern
Mindanao.

By then, Mamawag was already the municipal mayor of
Malaybalay (now a city). Although born of Ilocano
parents who, like many others, settled on the cool
mountain plateaus of Bukidnon, Mamawag married a
Higaunon girl, Eden Suclatan Tan-Nery, who was a
descendant of Datu Mansiagnao. But there was also a
pure-blooded Higaunon in the municipal council, Pepita
Caterial Ongkiatco (many of the natives had adapted to
the surnames of the migrant culture since Hispanic
times). That was probably one factor that spelled the
difference for Kaamulan since the start: that it was
conceived and implemented by people with real
indigenous genealogical lines.

The name Kaamulan is Binukid for "social gathering."
There are eight indigenous groups in Bukidnon: the
Matigsalug, Umayamnon, Ilianon, Pulangihon, Talaandig,
Tigwa Manobo, Western Bukidnon Manobo and the Higaunon
who are also found in the hinterlands of Agusan del
Sur, Misamis Oriental and Lanao del Norte. Comparative
linguistic studies have shown that their languages,
along with other Manobo languages of Mindanao, are
daughter languages of an earlier parent language
called Proto Manobo, the speakers of which were
believed to have migrated to southern Mindanao many
centuries ago.

Unlike other festivals, Kaamulan is not all street
theater pageantry, although that is only one of its
many facets. If other festivals have to stage-direct
schoolchildren and make them appear as natives, in
Kaamulan it is the real indigenous peoples who attract
the crowds. And which is probably why the authentic
rituals are what spice up the Kaamulan pageantry.

There is the pangampo (general worship), the
tagulambong ho datu (a political ritual marking one's
formal ascendancy to the datuship), the panumanod
(spiriting ceremony), the panlisig (edging away of
evil spirits), another ceremony called pamalas and a
native horse fight called kagsaba ho kabayo.

Dance clinics are held in the afternoons. These are
conducted by the indigenous peoples themselves, using
real native drums and musical instruments. Young
people who otherwise go "jamming" using CD compos and
portable disc players are the ones instead who are
drawn to these clinics like an ethnic Woodstock, truly
an educational alternative.

In the evenings, there are chants of the Bukidnon epic
olaging, recitations of the lyric poetry limbay, the
singing of ballads called idangdang, and other
literary forms such as bayok-bayok (verses), antoka
(riddles), nanangon (folk tales) and the tracing of
one's genealogy in debate form, the dasang.

Because it is the product of a well thought-out
research, and includes the participation of real
natives in its conceptualization and implementation,
Kaamulan has attracted its own following of
researchers. It is a heartwarming sight to see
students painstakingly taking notes, interviewing the
native folks. Kaamulan is a virtual Filipino culture
history laboratory, and its educational benefits to
many students cannot be underestimated.

Where otherwise we find "neo-ethnic" choreographies
and "modified" costumes in some of our festivals,
Kaamulan is everything authentic. Where other
festivals parade the town's patron saint à la Santo
Niño Ati-atihan or Sinulog-style, Kaamulan is no
copycat. If other festivals sashay to the beat of the
Ati-atihan even if the place had no Ati people to
begin with, Kaamulan follows only its indigenous
cadence. Kaamulan's charm is not in the frenzy of the
Ati-atihan, nor in the pomp and glitter of Sinulog.
Its charm lies in its authenticity.

Bukidnon has always been a refreshing destination, not
just for its climate but also for its montane vistas,
its Grand Canyon of the Philippines, its fog-laden
pine-wooded hills of Malaybalay City, its mighty
Pulangi River that becomes the Rio Grande de Mindanao
as it reaches the vast Cotabato plains. Perhaps the
best wonder of Bukidnon is its unique indigenous
culture.

LOVE QUOTES

The Love bug is still in me (athough technically, I am still loveless), so for all the love birds around who are at the risk of being melodramatic, sappy and corny (hehehehehehe, joke lang po), here are two quotes about love for you to ponder:

from Mae West:
Love conquers all things,
Except poverty and toothache

from Malcolm S. Forbes:
Love is free, but at what price!

Objections anyone?

FOR THE WOMEN IN MY LIFE

To Beth who is now engaged to the love of her life, to KK and Jade who are wonderfully happy and enjoying their marital bliss, and to Dinah who is one hell of a great mother - - as my post Valentines Day greetings for you, here's a song by Shania Twain:

She’s Not Just A Pretty Face

She hosts a T.V. show--she rides the rodeo
She plays the bass in a band
She's an astronaut--
a valet at the parking lot
A farmer working the land
She is a champion--she gets the gold
She's a ballerina--the star of the show

Chorus:
She's--not--just a pretty face
She's--got--everything it takes
She has a fashion line--
a journalist for "Time"
Coaches a football team
She's a geologist--a romance novelist
She is a mother of three
She is a soldier--she is a wife
She is a surgeon--she'll save your life

Chorus: She's--not--just a pretty face
She's--got--everything it takes
She's--mother--of the human race
She's--not--just a pretty face

She is your waitress--she is your judge--
she is your teacher
She is every woman in the world

She flies an airplane--
she dirve a subway train
At night she pumps gasoline
She's on the council--she's on the board
She's a politician--she praises the Lord

No, she's (she's) not (not)--
just a pretty face
She's (she's) got (got)--everything it takes
She's--not--just a pretty face
She's got everything it takes
She's not just a pretty face

AT 28

I am 28 today.

I think when we get older, the inevitable question that we ask ourselves is, "where am I?" Thank goodness to Beth, beautiful tha she is, instead of wallowing from usual self pity stuff, she reminded me of this:

Psalms 103:1-5

1 Praise the LORD , O my soul;
all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
2 Praise the LORD , O my soul,
and forget not all his benefits-
3 who forgives all your sins
and heals all your diseases,
4 who redeems your life from the pit
and crowns you with love and compassion,
5 who satisfies your desires with good things
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.

So here I am with one thing I know for sure - - I have grown wiser through these years and thankful that God gave me another year to probably correct things that I did in the past (that can still be corrected) and make things right for me.

These forwarded emails that were sent to me by friends seem to speak to me now:

HOW TO STAY YOUNG
by George Carlin

1. Throw out nonessential numbers. This includes age, weight and height. Let the doctor worry about them. That is why you pay him/her.

2. Keep only cheerful friends. The grouches pull you down.

3. Keep learning. Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening, whatever. Never let the brain idle. " An idle mind is the devil's workshop." And the devil's name is Alzheimer's.

4. Enjoy the simple things.

5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath.

6. The tears happen. Endure, grieve, and move on. The only person who is with us our entire life, is ourselves. Be ALIVE while you are alive.

7. Surround yourself with what you love, whether it's family, pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your refuge.

8. Cherish your health: If it is good, preserve it. If it is unstable, improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.

9. Don't take guilt trips. Take a trip to the mall, to the next county, to a foreign country,
but NOT to where the guilt is.

10. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.

And Always Remember:
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take,
but by the moments that take our breath away.


EVERYTHING I NEEDED TO KNOW ABOUT LIFE
I LEARNED FROM A JIGSAW PUZZLE
by Jacquie Sewell


1. Don't force a fit--if something is meant to be, it will come together naturally.

2. When things aren't going so well, take a break. Everything will look different when you return.

3. Be sure to look at the big picture. Getting hung up on the little pieces only leads to frustration.

4. Perseverance pays off. Every important puzzle went together bit by bit, piece by piece.

5. When one spot stops working, move to another. But be sure to come back later (see #4).

6. The creator of the puzzle gave you the picture as a guidebook. Refer to the Creator's guidebook often.

7. Variety is the spice of life. It's the different colors and patterns that make the puzzle interesting.

8. Working together with friends and family makes any task fun.

9. Establish the border first. Boundaries give a sense of security and order.

10. Don't be afraid to try different combinations. Some matches are surprising.

11. Take time often to celebrate your successes (even little ones).

12. Anything worth doing takes time and effort. A great puzzle can't be rushed.

13. When you finally reach the last piece, don't be sad. Rejoice in the masterpiece you've made and enjoy a well-deserved rest.

DREAM.BELIEVE.SURVIVE

This is a bit late.

I don’t need to know that Araneta Coliseum was filled with thousands of shrieking-poster-carrying fans for the Starstruck Judgement last February 1, nor I don’t need to know that that particular show garnered a 42 percent ratings as opposed to ABS-CBN’s “24” with an 11 percent to convince me that, indeed, Metro Manila and the rest of the country have been caught by the Starstruck frenzy. I only need to know that my two roommates whose only concern on TV is the score of their favorite NBA or PBA basketball team, have hurry home Sunday evening in order to catch the Starstruck Judgement Night. And not only that, despite having to work the following day, they waited until 12 midnight when the result was announced.

Why did Starstruck become so popular, so popular that ABS-CBN, great copycats assholes (ok, pasensya na! Just got carried away) that they are, was for forced to shelved their copied version “Star Circle Quest” until the frenzy of Starstruck will somehow mellow down? This is my observation.

First, this is relatively an original concept. Yes, this is patterned from the American Idol in the US (which was patterned after the Pop Idol in UK), but for the Philippines it is. Yes, there are “Star in a Million”, Search for a Star” and the likes, but all of these are looking for singing stars. Starstruck is an artista search for those who can act, dance, sing, or host.

Second, for fourteen weeks at five days a week, these finalists have been part of that boob-tube at primetime. You saw them struggle to find their moves with Douglas Nierras as they do dance workshop and have a taste of his “artist tempter”, you saw them trying to impress the opera singers with whatever singing voice that they have, you saw them trying to come up with the expectations of Gina Alajar in her acting workshop. You watched them everyweek and you will make your guess who will be voted out by Friday. You saw them honed whatever talent or star quality that they have on TV and these are not scripted – the beauty of a reality TV.

Third, as the finals approached, you are left with two guys, one has the killer smile, but poor in talent but has already gathered a big fan base with his F4 looks, and you have another cutie with pure dance talent. Of course, you would be too excited to know whether talent will somehow win over pure looks and that killer smile. If this were a typical contest where a board of judges will choose the winner, you would know that talent would prevail. But this isn’t a regular contest, TV audience will also have their say trough their text votes and so the millions of those who texted would be eager to know whether their bets made it. And of course! like the Survivor series, the contestant themselves will also have a say since they are also voting out a fellow finalist. So the result is unpredictable which would add to the thrill of the show.

What about the two girl finalists? Well, they have their share of fans, but not as many as the fans of Mark and Rainer.

Fourth, and I think these one of the reason why most people patronize the show. They saw their aspirations in the contestants. Admit it! most Filipinos thinks that the best way to bring you out of poverty is to become a star. These contestants started as virtually unknown. You saw them how they have changed their looks, you saw them improved whatever talent they have and you witness how they become celebrities. And somehow, in watching them you were also wishing that that lucky star will shine upon you one day - - hopefully (or should it be wishfully?).

I don’t know how the copycat ABS-CBN will do with their Star Circle Quest? But one think for sure, it was Starstruck who made history and no matter how much money will those bastards from ABS-CBN will pour (there I go again, sorry na), they won’t overdo the impact that Starstruck did on primetime Pinoy TV.

SO I WAS STARSTRUCK!



Like Millions of Filipinos, I was one of those who were glued to their TV sets last night watching the final judgement of Starstruck, a reality based Artista Search on GMA-7. I followed the show from day one, and after fourteen weeks I was extremely happy that my bets won. They are:


Jennylyn Mercado

and


Mark Herras

Why I was hooked (and so are million others)? I'll share it to you on my next entry. I am just too busy for now. Okay?

DAGOHOY GOES TO THE US

Got this from the net and it is soo funny!

It was the first day of school in Washington, DC and a new student named Dagohoy, the son of a Filipino immigrant, entered the fourth grade.

The teacher began, "Let's review some American history, class. Who said 'Give me liberty or give me death?'" She saw a sea of blank faces, except for Dagohoy's who had his hand up, "Patrick Henry, 1775." "Very good," said the teacher.

"Who said 'Government of the people, by the people,and for the people shall not perish from the earth'"? Again, no response except from Dagohoy: "Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg, 1863," he said.

The teacher snaps at the class, "Class, you should be ashamed, Dagohoy who is new to our country knows more about our history than you do."

She hears a loud whisper from the back: "Screw the Filipinos." "Who said that?" she demanded. Dagohoy put his hand
up. "General John Pershing, Manila, 1896." At that point, Jack, another student says, "I'm going to puke."

The teacher glares and asks, "All right! Now who said that?" Again Dagohoy answers, "George Bush, Sr. to the Japanese Prime Minister during the state dinner, Tokyo, 1991."

Now furious another student yells, "Oh yeah? Suck this!!" Dagohoy jumps out of his chair waving his hand and shouts to the teacher at the top of his voice, "Bill Clinton to Monica Lewinsky, the Oval Office, 1997!!"

Someone shouts, "You little shit, if you say anything else, I'll kill you." Dagohoy yells, "Congressman Gary Condit to Chandra Levy, Washington, D.C., 2001!"

The teacher faints. "I'm outta here!" mutters one student as he sidles to the door. "President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, Baguio City, December 30, 2002!!" Dagohoy responds.

As the class gathers around her on the floor, someone says, "Oh shit, now we're really in big trouble!"

"Saddam Hussein, on the Iraq invasion, Bhagdad, May 2003!" Dagohoy bellowed. "Now, I really have to run," Jack mutters, heading for the exit., "Gloria Macapagal Arroyo again, Pampanga, October 4, 2003!!!" Dagohoy shouts triumphantly jumping with glee.

Then a burly African-American boy grabbed Dagohoy and strangled him, about to give a fistful to the frightened Dagohoy.

Then an Asian boy stood up and shouted, "Hey easy on him. I'M A FILIPINO!" Dagohoy then blurted out before he got socked out, "Fernando Poe, Jr. Manila, January 2004!!!"

DUMAGUETE IN MY MIND

God! I miss Dumaguete!

My boss asked me to look for past news articles about the politics in Dumaguete and on the process, I opened two sites about Dumaguete, both offered numerous pictures of the city. I was going picture after picture realizing how beautiful the city is and how I miss it.


Rizal Boulevard

Who would not fall in love with this beautiful park just beside the sea? From afar you could see the Island of Cebu, the Enchanting Island of Fire popularly known as Siquijor. Who would not love walking along this boulevard with fresh breeze from the sea, watching the calm and sometimes turbulent Mindanao Sea? I still remember the time when the boulevard, at night, turns into one big party place (KK and Beth, remember that blue alcoholic beverage that made us all drunk, except Beth of course!. That woman has an alcohol tolerance of a tomador).


The Boulevard at Sunrise

Beautiful isn’t it? An early morning jog along the boulevard could turn into a wonderful experience.



photo by Michael Angelo Alano
courtesy of Dgte.net

This is another shot sunrise at the boulevard taken near the Silliman Hall. The Photo is the winning entry in a digital photo contest about Dumaguete. Michael Alano, the photographer has this interesting words to say, “Freezing Dumaguete moments is what I pay for my dwelling here in Dumaguete…and the hospitality it gave me is more than I can repay my whole lifetime.” Indeed, this is so true about Dumaguete. Interestingly, Michael is not from Dumaguete, he just visited his sister who was studying in Silliman and on his first visit, he was captivated by its charm. When he got married, he asked his new wife to pack their things and they moved to Dumaguete. Dumaguete was coined from the Cebuano word “Dagit” which means “to capture”. It is, indeed, very easy to be captivated by the charm of the city.


century Old Bell Tower

Talking about “dagit” this bell tower served as a watchtower during the Spanish Time when Moro Pirates have constantly raided the City and capture the beautiful ladies of the city.


Perdices Street

Oh those noise at Perdices Street, main business district of the City. I remember Jade and Brazil making fun about the lights at Cang's, Inc, the walks I took from the City Hall to my house in Tubod. Walking along Perdices Street means bumping into one or more good friends.


The Silliman Hall built in 1907

Of course a tour to Dumaguete would never complete without Silliman University, my alma mater. Silliman Hall is the oldest building in the campus. The building now houses the Silliman Museum and the building itself is a museum piece, a reminder of the American Stick-type Architecture (I hope I got the term right).


Luce Auditorium

The Cultural Center of the South. I conquered the stage of this 923 seater fully airconditioned theater a number of times, as Pharaoh and Rueben of Joseph the Dreamer, as winner of two Extemporaneous Speaking Contest and Best Debater, among others (Magyayabang ba? This is my site, so who cares?! Hehehehe). But more than conquering the stage, outside of the Luce were moments I could not forget. The times I spent at the lobby with my friends preparing for our projects/presentations, club meeting, chitchats, and sleeping in the lobby with Jade and Brazil because our dorms were locked. I also fell in love with a woman while sitting in lobby of this auditorium one night when we were waiting for her dormmates and she shared to me her life story, but that’s another story.


Amphitheater

Now, this is the place that was a witness to my political aspirations. This is where I debated with my opponent when I ran as Vice President of the Student Government, organized an indignation rally against the French nuclear testing somewhere in the South Pacific and countless activities.


Residence of Dr. Absin
from dgte.net

And yes! Who could ever miss the Cake House! The house of Dr. Absin and a sight to behold during the Christmas Season.

[All pictures, unless otherwise specified are from dumaguete.org. For more pictures of Dumaguete please visit the said sites.]

I am bored today, so I surf and I bump in into this [thanks to Jodeck]:


You are Sofi Fatale, O-Ren Ishii's close friend and
lawyer. Before you became part of O-Ren's
posse, you were a training assassin under
Bill's instruction. Half Japanese and half
French, your beauty is amazing.
ANG GANDA KO! HEHEHEHEHEHEHE

Which Kill Bill Volume 1 character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

MY COMMENTS ARE BACK!

BY order of Her Majesty Queen Nada-O-Nil, I have placed my comments back.

Thanks to HaloScan, who absorbed the now defunct blogspeak, even my previous comments from blogspeak are still intact.

So what can I say? "Comment Me" Hehehehehehehe.

And yes, before I forget! Moralist out there are damn welcome into this page and to give their comments. But beware, I did not win Best Debater for nothing! Oh yes, be prepared, be very prepared!

Funny High School Stories

If you don’t like this post (you suck! kidding), blame it on Ms. D, she made us write some of our funny high school stories for her entertainment and I have to bow down to the queen. So here are the stories back from high school.

I studied in a public school. No, no, it wasn’t that public school where the classrooms are crowded and there are too many students that some have to hold classes under the mango tree (literally!). Ours was a laboratory school of a State College. We were at most fifty in a class with two sections per year level. Because we belong to a state college, we have a much better facilities compared to the National High School (located at the other side of the fence) and the Catholic High School (just across the river).


My School

I don’t know if this is funny, but these two stories are the only events I can remember.

My math class when I was a freshman was scheduled at 1:30-2:30 in the afternoon just after our lunch break. If you live in a tropical country, like the Philippines, and having to study in an unairconditioned classroom (although it’s a bit cold in our place because it located thousand feet above sea level), that hour is an unholy hour. You are most likely to fall asleep and math class at that! To make matters worst, our teacher is one of the most boring ones.

So one day in my freshman math class, I wasn’t listening to my teacher. I was seated right beside the window and the view from the window is that National High School at the other side of the fence. Just parallel to our classroom is an unfinished building, but because there are plenty of students enrolled in that school (elementary and high school education are free if you are enrolled in a public school), they were forced to hold class in that unfinished building.


That school beside the fence

Like I said, I wasn’t listening to my teacher, instead I was looking at the students who were playing inside that unfinished building (obviously their teacher isn’t in yet). That classroom was on the ground floor but the height from the lower portion of the window to the ground is 6-10feet. Playing a joke with his classmates, one able-bodied male student lifted one of his male classmates and jokingly threatened to throw him off the window. But the joke, by accident, became true and that classmate fell.

But he didn’t fell immediately. There was of course the spectacle of him holding on to the neck of his classmate until that classmate couldn’t hold on to his weight. As this incident unfolds, I was shouting and laughing with my very loud booming voice.

There is no problem with that right? They really look funny. Trouble is, I was the only one watching while the rest of my classmates were trying to listen to our teacher. Imagine all of you were listening to a very boring math lecture then all of a sudden somebody was shouting, inside your classroom, and laughing.

Well the scene that followed was my teacher standing beside me and softly yet forcefully said, “if you have any problems, you can leave the classroom.” All eyes were on me and I could mutter the words, “I’m sorry.” As soon as my teacher moves back to the front, I saw my classmates trying to suppress their laughter.

Another story happened in my sophomore years. We had a character for a class adviser who made us sing “A House is not Home” for our Technology and Home Economics Class. This is also the year when my male classmates started to act naughty.

One morning as we entered our classroom, we were welcomed by a very pungent smell and saw some liquid splashed just below the door of our classroom. From the smell, obviously it was urine.

There used to be a door knob in our door, but some students before us might have destroyed that knob and so it was taken out and replaced with blot locks and padlocks. The hole where the knob used to be was never covered. Our adviser suspects that someone must have urinated a night before through that hole in the door. Since, for her, it would be impossible for our female classmates to actually urinate there, the suspect, of course, were us - - the boys.

So to ascertain who the culprit was, our class adviser made the 15 of us (there were only 15 boys in our class of 40) to stand one-by-one infront of the door and just and see if our crotch would be of the same level of that place where the knob used to be (such a clever idea! Right?). Alas, Choi, the tallest among us, was the only one whose crotch was aligned with that hole.

Yes, Choi was a bit naughty, but he was an “A” student and part of the upper five in our year level. He was our adviser’s favorite so obviously she could not pin him as the culprit. Well, that was the end of this investigation and even up to this day I still don’t who the culprit was (I need to bring this topic in our next reunion).

LEAVE A NOTE

As you can see, I have been making few changes in my blog.

Lately, my comments page appear and disappear and it so frustrating since it's beyond my control. I really would want to hear from you and blogspeak is no longer dependable on the aspect. But Ian, master of the net, has discovered tag board. This, my friends, is much better than the comments from blogspeak.

On the upper right hand side of the page is my tag board. Please take time to leave a message for me, ok?

WORDS, ETC.

Day after day, new words are coined as a result of our experiences, of events that transpired or of people that made an impact. Some of these new words have been accepted as already part of our regular vocabulary while some are just acceptable to a group of people like the gay lingo.

I remember when I was still in College, Jade, Dennis and even Dinah have invented words which became part of the vocabulary of the Weekly Sillimanian staff and those people who were close to us. Words like “pleeshor” which came from the word pleasure. The two words do not exactly mean the same. “Pleeshor” refers to somebody who is good-looking and yummy. It could also mean to have fun (i.e. gimmick).

Of course, I wouldn’t be able to forget the word “Orocan”, a brand of plastic which was used to refer to people worst than an ordinary “plastic”. A “plastic” person of course is a two-faced person who would say something nice when in front of you, but would tell the opposite once your not around.

There is of course the word “To-Shin”. This is a computer game but was used to refer to a fight or to someone who is feisty.

Now, here are two new words that are internationally accepted. The reason why I am talking about this in my blog is because they mean something to me.

First word is “GROBANITES”. I know that you already knew the meaning of this word. In case you don’t, Grobanites refers to the millions of Josh Groban fans. Simply speaking, you're a grobanite if you are a fan of josh groban. And I happen to be one. In fact, if you notice I have added Josh Groban’s website as part of my links.

Do I need to say more.

Another new word is “METROSEXUAL”. New York Times defines this as “straight men who are willing to embrace their feminine side.” The Word Spy define it also as, "an urban male with a strong aesthetic sense who spends a great deal of time and money on his appearance and lifestyle."

The person the exemplifies this is this guy:



(for more pictures of this guy, i recommend this)

Yes, yes, yes, that is David Beckham, England’s soccer hero and husband of Posh Spice.

A metrosexual is not a gay guy, they are straight guys who love to shop, are updated in terms of fashion, and would go to salons for facial, spa, and other forms of beauty regimens.

Well, what can I say? In this world of commercialism, its high time the people in the fashion industry should also look into men more than the usual way they look at them. It would also mean that someday you won’t fear being ostracized as gay just because you are trying to be fashionable (to be gay, of course, is no reason to ridicule people, but that is another story).

To know if you are a Metrosexual, please answer this quiz. (Just in case you will ask, I scored 60%, but then again I am not really a metrosexual guy. If you don't know why, you are the most clueless person that I've ever met!)

Now, talking coining of words, here’s an interesting article entitled “From Lincoln to Lacson” written by Butch Dalisay in his column “Penman” at the Philippine Star last December 15.

Leave it to professional worrywarts like me to find a problem where none exists. I’ve been losing sleep lately over what adjective to employ for our next President, whoever he or she may turn out to be.

I don’t mean adjectives like "cutesy," "incompetent," "arrogant," or "bloodthirsty." (Now why would anyone think of such unkind words to describe our distinguished aspirants?) I mean the splendiferous and grandiloquent adjectives that historians make of the names of presidents and leaders who apparently contributed something memorable to the nation and to its vocabulary – words like "Lincolnesque" and "Churchillian" and "Kennedyesque."

Admittedly, we haven’t had much of a tradition in this area. "Quezonian" comes to mind, ideally in the lofty context of "the Quezonian quest for independence," but the word has simply come to mean "someone from Quezon Province," as the members of the Quezonian Club of Edmonton and the Quezonian Association of Macau should have no trouble acknowledging. (On the other hand, I’d have to opine that the old "Tayabense" – now applicable only to the denizens of Tayabas town – had more character to it.)

x x x

We’d have to wonder if Raul Roco will leave a "Roconian" legacy behind (at least for flowery red shirts, a claim we can expect to be fiercely contested by believers in the Atienzan contribution to sartorial intemperance). In the same phonic neighborhood, there was that 7th-century BC politician Draco, who codified Athenian law into something so fair and yet also so severe that he lent his name to things no self-respecting trapo will consider, like draconian budget cuts.

Ah, and what of our albeit often absent and silent man of the hour, Fernando Poe Jr.? Here things get a little more complicated – linguistically, at least, if not politically and economically. The tradition in English adjective formation is that names ending in —OW or —AW sounds acquire a V, to wit: "Marlovian" for Christopher Marlowe and "Shavian" for George Bernard Shaw. (Roco and De Castro – whose camp followers might rightly be called De Castroites – get away with a short —OH in Pinoy pronunciation, as in "Vicky Toh.") This means that we can look forward (or not) to a Povian regime, in which will prominently figure certain Angaran and Enrilic notions, to be processed by FPJ’s spokesman into, uhm, Sottonic verses.

The most euphonically resonant moniker actually belongs to Sen. Panfilo Lacson, who has the good fortune of a surname that rhymes with Lincoln and who might therefore be expected to bequeath to us a grand Lacsonian tradition – whatever that may be, although a propensity for political bombast might be one of its elements. Ping should also influence a new generation of speechwriters and speechmakers with the niceties of Lacsonesque prose, such as "Alam ba ni Misis ‘toh!" – which, while decidedly short on the Latinate eloquence of the Gettysburg Address, has all the bite of a red ant trapped in that part of you where the sun never shines.

For the complete article, please see it here.

MY TASTE OF CULTURE

Today the Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King will open for regular showing in theaters in the Philippines.



But I won’t be lining in the theaters today. Much as I would like to be one of the first few who can watch this great masterpiece, I have to wait until Sunday. I failed to reserve early for my seat at any of the THX theaters in Ayala Center and the earliest booking that I’ve got is on Sunday.

However, still it wouldn’t be a great loss for me for tonight I choose to have my own taste of culture.



Yes, the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra! I’ll be watching their concert tonight at the Tanghalan Nicanor Abelardo (Main Theater) of the Cultural Center of the Philippines and I have the good orchestra seat (Thanks to my boss! napapakinabangan din, hehehehehehe)

PPO will have a Concert for Two Pianos where they will perform Berloiz’s “Beatrice et Benedict (Overture), Gounod’s “Faust”, among others. The concert will features pianists Cristine Coyiuto and Raul Sunico.

GAAADDDD!!!



This woman has ambition written all over her face! Her reasons why she is running as Vice President of Fernando Poe, Jr. are nothing but a flimsy excuse. I would never vote for this woman!

2 GREAT PINOY MOVIES

I do not intend to be a film critic, but pardon me if my last two entries are about the films that I watched.

Since I was in no mood to watch any drama films, I chose Crying Ladies of Unitel Pictures and Bridal Shower of Seiko Films.

I did not regret over the choice that I made.

It gave me great joy watching those films. Overjoyed not only because they are comedy films, but also because I see hope in the Philippine Movie Industry. I always believe that if you have good script, a creative and “adventurous” director, good casts and a daring producer, you could make an intelligent film with an assurance of a good, if not great, box office result. The above-mentioned films are proof that it could actually be done.

Crying Ladies and Bridal Shower are comedy films, but they are not your typical Filipino slapstick comedy. You don’t need to see someone being slapped, boxed or make funny faces just to make people laugh. What you see are real people talking and somehow in their conversation and in their struggles with life you find yourself in their situation and so you laugh with them.

I watched Bridal Shower last January 1. I did not have any expectations about the film even if it is a work of Jeffery Jeturian who has done marvelous films before, I watch the film to be entertained and boy! I received more than the entertainment that I need. I was laughing from the beginning till the end of the movie, literally. This is the synopsis of the film from the Manila Times:

A COMEDY of manners about three women struggling to find the perfect mate in a world of imperfect men—that is the story behind Bridal Shower, the entry of Seiko Films to this year’s Metro Manila Film Festival (MMFF).

Directed by Jeffrey Jeturian whose last directorial project was 2001’s Tuhog, Bridal Shower stars Dina Bonnevie, Cherrie Pie Picache and Francine Prieto as the three female advertising executives on a quest to find their Mr. Right.

Tates (Dina Bonnevie) feels her biological clock ticking. She’s in love, but the man of her dreams is married, although his marriage is on the rocks. Because she knows time is running out, she offers to shoulder the cost of his annulment, in exchange for a promise that once it comes through, they will get married. She’s so desperate to get married that she hires a lawyer, bribes judges and spends all her time and money on getting the annulment for him, thinking that it is the way to get what she wants.

Katie (Cherrie Pie Picache) is overweight, plain-looking and suffering from a bad case of low self-esteem. Unable to land a man, she resorts to trying to find one on the Internet. When—her friend Sofia (Francine Prieto) announces that she is pregnant and contemplating marriage, Katie and Tates decide to throw her a bridal shower. Katie and her friends visit a gay bar to hire a macho dancer for Sofia’s shower.

Sofia (Francine Prieto) is the liberated one of the trio. One day, she finds herself pregnant. Because she has two boyfriends, she is not sure which one of them is the father. Thus, she must make an important decision does she choose the impoverished artist whom she loves, or does she go for the rich man who can provide security, but not love?

Also starring in the movie are Christian Vasquez, Rodel Velayo, Alfred Vargas (in his first lead role), and newcomers Juanicho Valentino and Douglas Robinson.

Bridal Shower was originally inspired by Francois Ozon’s Eight Women, a film about eight women who attend a bridal shower. However, after several revisions of the script written by Cris Martinez (with supervision by the award-winning Armando “Bing” Lao), it was decided that the story should focus instead on the three women and their quest to find the perfect man.

“It’s basically a comedy of manners with light dramatic touches,” explains Jeturian, director of the critically-acclaimed Tuhog and Pila Balde. “But beyond the humor, the narrative voice of the movie is equally important. Aside from being entertaining, it also has to be meaningful. I think we’ve achieved that in this movie. I expect it to pull some surprises during the awards night.”

Bridal Shower is a women film that men would also love. Yes, it is Seiko film and when it is from Seiko it must be bold. But bold because it dared to present the issue of sex to a Filipino audience and dared to discuss it openly. But if you expect to see women undressing in this film, you would be frustrated. Even Francine Prieto who was very daring in her last movie Liberated, did not show much flesh here (Actually, it was the men who showed more flesh).

Ruben Cruz. Jr. has this to say in his article at the Philippine Daily Inquirer last Sunday (please see link).

Crying Ladies is another comedy film from a Palanca Award Winning Script of Mark Meily who surprised everyone by winning the Best Director Award in the recently concluded MMFF.


Now, this is not your typical Sharon Cuneta formula movie and Edmund Sicam of the Philippine Star has this to say:

DEFINITELY NOT A FORMULA SHARON CUNETA MOVIE
December 18, 2003 (The Philippine Star) By: Edmund L. Sicam

The 2003 Metro Manila Film Festival offers fantasy flicks with lots of special effects, moving dramas of epic proportions and big productions with a star-studded cast. Unitel Pictures’ Crying Ladies has none of these elements. Well, almost none. It does have a big-name star --- Sharon Cuneta --- but her co-stars, Hilda Koronel, Angel Aquino, Ricky Davao, Raymond Bagatsing, though highly regarded as actors, do not have the same drawing power as the Megastar.

I have a feeling, though, that this “small” film should pull a surprise or two at the box office and during the awards night.

The story is quite simple. Three women from the backstreets of Chinatown are hired to cry at a Chinese funeral. During their five-day stint, we are afforded glimpses of their ordinary lives that make us laugh, cry and cheer as they struggle to survive under trying circumstances.

Sharon plays Stella Mate, who’s trying to make both ends meet doing odd jobs so that she can get back her son from estranged husband Guido (Ricky Davao). Hilda plays Doray a.k.a Rhoda Rivera, whose only claim to fame is that she played a minor role in the movie Darna and the Giants starring Vilma Santos. She got stepped on by the giant. Now, she’s forcing her reluctant daughter to crash the world of show business. Angel is Choleng who does charity work for a religious foundation. Her weakness is that, she’s having an affair with her friend’s husband (Raymond Bagatsing).

The movie opens with Stella trying to get a job as a singer in Japan. This early, we are reminded that this is a Sharon Cuneta movie.

Unlike her previous movies, however, Sharon doesn’t land a recording contract and lead a comfortable life. She needs to get an NBI clearance which is not possible because she has spent time in jail for estafa.

In another scene, she reaches the finals of a Pera o Bayong-type contest where she could win a brand new car. Alas, it’s only a dream and she doesn’t even make it to the first 200 contestants allowed in the studio.

Stella, however, is a survivor so she always finds ways of earning some money. Once, she takes a bus in front of a factory where a strike is going on. She pretends she’s a labor leader and castigates the capitalists for oppressing the workers. Later, she asks the passengers for money to help the strikers. Another trick she uses is to avoid paying the jeepney fare by telling the driver that she took the wrong ride and gets off at her destination.

This is definitely not a formula Sharon movie where she shares kilig moments with her leading man (she doesn’t even have a leading man in this movie) or suffer at the hands of the contravida. This is not to say that she doesn’t suffer in the movie. Stella has to deal with poverty, separation from her son and even a fire that razes her humble abode. The movie, however, does not dwell on her problems but on how she copes with life’s adversities.

Sharon is not given a “dramatic” dialogue nor does she shed copious tears to get our sympathy. It is to the Megastar’s credit that she restrains herself even in the most gut-wrenching scene in the movie. Initially, we laugh at her travails and how she and her friends fake their tears at the wake. As we get to know Stella, however, our heart goes out to her as she fights the seemingly insurmountable odds.

Hilda, on the other hand, does the opposite. Her character is a caricature of a stage mother and someone who’s holding on to her past. She’s ecstatic when her old movie is aired on TV. She’s the most OA when the three do their stuff at the wake. It’s Hilda in a campy role that we do usually don’t associate with the star of Insiang.

Angel’s Doray os the weakest of the three. We’re not referring to her performance but to her character. Doray is a religious woman but she cannot resist temptations of the flesh. She confesses her sins to a priest, played by Johnny Delgado, then goes to bed with her friend’s husband the next day. Angel is able to project the contrast between her spiritual and sinful side without much gimmickry.

This the movie’s main asset. It is devoid of artificial elements. No one gets slapped or raped to the audience to cry. The actors don’t deliver the lines. They’re just characters talking to one another. There are no violins in the background to highlight dramatic moments.

What’s artificial are the tears the three shed at the wake for someone they don’t even know. They are contrasted with genuine tears shed by different characters in the movie: Sharon pining for her son, and Eric finally realizing how much he loves his deceased father. Moviegoers may find themselves shedding a tear or two after watching this movie. Not necessarily tears of sadness but also tears of joy as the main characters experience changes in their lives.

And yes, the movie has a happy ending. Sharon doesn’t become a successful singer but scores a minor triumph which we won’t reveal so we don’t spoil your enjoyment of the movie. Clue: she wins an acting award. We won’t be surprised if she wins another during the filmfest’s awards night. Hilda, Angel and Eric all experience joyful moments before the closing credits roll.

Congratulations are in order for first-time director Mark Meily, who also wrote the screenplay from his Palanca award-winning work and Unitel’s Tony Gloria for bankrolling this thoroughly enjoyable movie.