A belated happy birthday to my nephew, Aaron Theodore (Theo for short), who just turned three this May 20. He’s a Taurus, just like his mother, which explains his boisterous nature. Lots of hugs and kisses from your uncle!

So here’s a capsule form of what happened to me in the past weeks:

-> I finally got a mp3 player! Yay! It is this sleek, handsome, black iPod -looking thingy which has a 2 GB memory. To date, I have 160 songs in it.

-> I became an official member of the youth chapter of the Christian Life Community of the Philippines (CLCP) San Pablo. Double yay! This is mainly why I can’t write more on this blog, because this past May 1-4, I was in Bataan in a youth camp that our organization joined in to. I made lots of friends, became closer to God (shucks..) and I’m away from technology (except my mp3 player) for four days. Call it a tech detox.

-> I fell head over heels with Regina Spektor. No, not that kind of head-over-heels. I mean that I fell in love with her songs. I first heard her in CSI:NY with her song “Samson,” and now I’m hooked. I also began to hear Vanessa Carlton of “A Thousand Miles” fame.

-> I also fell in love with two TV series, “House, M.D.” and “Heroes.”

-> Recently, I got a Friendster account. Hey, I’ve got to tune in to the zeitgeist now. Better late than never. So far, I’ve got fourteen friends. Yay! (I’ve got to stop saying that..)

-> More recently, I’ve got a new cellphone. In my last entry (“Discourse in Pink”) I raved about my cellphone, which is pink, but now my cellphone is a beautiful shade of metallic orange.

So far, that’s what’s happening in my life. I will now try to write more in this blog, starting with my Bataan trip. Later!

In my older blog I often posted pics of bands I’m into right now. Here’s more pics from The Fray.

Quite frankly, I was relieved that I lost the cellphone. I’ve been trying to get rid of it for years (come to think of it, I only had it for 7 months). Fortunately, today I am the proud owner of a retrograde but reliable and trusty Nokia phone (it is one of the newer models) . My mother thinks that I should get a new casing for the phone so we went shopping.

Apparently there are two kinds of cellphone casings sold: “the fake ones” and “the real ones.” Honestly, I don’t see any difference between the two (“the real ones” is of course a little pricier)  but my mother urged me to buy “the real ones.” Unfortunately, the casings that were left for the model of my cellphone is in baby pink.

Since my mother insisted, I am now carrying this incredibly eye-catching cellphone, and I don’t mean eye-catching in the other sense. Everytime I  whip out my cellphone, guys around me stare in looks that shout “That’s so not your color” or “There’s a guy who doesn’t care about his outward appearance.” It’s like a giant pimple in my forehead (it’s not an accident why the casing’s pink).

Which brings us to the question: Why do almost every one of us assume pink as a girl’s color? There are far more expressive shades of colors better suited for the two genders (and everything in between) , and they’re far more interesting than peenk. For example, shocking yellow for girls and demented green for guys.

Pink is considered effeminate (a historical fact: in the 19th century, pink is considered a boy’s color) because many pink objects are connected to women: carnations, orchids, childbirth and others. It is also considered the color of friendliness, openness and perkiness. Do you see how this color can be sexist? Doesn’t it follow that if females wear pink, they’re expected to be perky, friendly and open (read: submissive and weak)? I’m male, but this thought still keeps me up at night. But I’m digressing.

i recently perused our school newspaper, and i read this article called “pisay horror stories.” this had got me thinking, what scary things happened to me lately here in pisay?

the cosmos must hate me, because for two days in pisay, misfortune followed me around.

I. when the teacher’s away, there’s no play

it was a monday. during our first period, filipino 3, we were required to show 5-minute plays which we made with our partners. of course, my partner (which will be hidden under the name “calendar girl”) and I didn’t make any plays, so we went for a short conference.

CALENDAR GIRL: so… what we’re gonna do?

ME: I already have this idea for the play, but we’ve no script…

CG: we could do adlibs…

ME: oh, and we’re gonna need a pair of scissors.

CG: WHAT?

ME: it’s for the suicide scene.

CG: there’s a suicide scene?

ME: well, it’s not really technically a suicide, the ghost made you do it..

CG: what ghost?

ME: me of course!

CG: well, you do look like one….

my partner, ladies and gentlemen.

i won’t go into the details of the play, it’s too lurid. when we were doing our play, murmurs and chuckles were heard from the audience. they weren’t laughing at the play, they were laughing at us.

our play sucks vacuum cleaners.

II. the curse of the library printers

the next day, I went to the library to print out an english 3 essay. I finished it in time, and I was already printing it when the program suddenly hanged.

turns out later that I should have save first before printing. because of this, I was forced to retype the entire essay, causing me to miss my elective class (I managed to print it anyway).

aaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrgggghhh.

a few hours later, I went to the library to print out a filipino 3 essay. after half an hour, I finished the essay and was about to print it when the printer malfunctioned. I was forced to find another computer, which took a while because the library computer center is full, and finally, I managed to print out the said document.

I have a love-hate relationship with technology. I love it, it hates me.

I’ve run out of stories to tell. I’ll tell you more when another one happens to me.

Here are some guidelines to how to make the most out of your blog:

1) Choose your blog. This one is pretty obvious. Choosing blogs is easy, if you know exactly what do you want to put in it. For those wordsmiths like me, I recommend that you choose wordpress.com. If you are the type of person who believes that pictures are worth a thousand words, choose multiply.com. There are many blogsites to choose from.

2) Know what you really want to write about. Blogs are in the very essence, public online diaries. So if you would write in one, choose your topics in discretion. Unless you want to chronicle your life and flung it to the public, don’t be too personal on the topics of your blog entries.

3) Make a schedule to update your blog, and stick to it. Blogs, just like other websites, need to be updated once in a while. If you want to go into serious blogging, I suggest that you update it regularly. In my personal experience, I find that it is much easier to blog at weekends, twice a week. It depends on your schedule, so plan out.

4) Don’t put too much into it. As I said before, be discrete and honest about what you’re writing. Make sure that when you write, the topic should be of great importance, and it should be something that people can relate to. If you put unnecessary stuff into the blog, throw them out.

5) Watch your language. Just because it’s your blog, that doesn’t mean that you could go around and give opinions to anything you see. Be polite when you talk about anyone in your blog. If you can’t help it, then be subtle about commenting on people. Also, it would be a great idea to consider what language you use in your blog. If you want to make people around the world understand what you’re talking about, write in English. It depends on you. Also, if you write in English on your blog, be consistent all throughout.

That’s about everything. I’m sure you could think of more guidelines to this. Bottom line is, blogging is fun, but use its power wisely.

I consider myself a pretty updated and seasoned follower of music. I know what music is popular today, and I could sit throughout a concerto of Bach or Mozart without being defribillated every 5 minutes (a thing I managed to learn from many years of tolerating my mom’s so-called “classics”). I know (and appreciate) such music greats as Burt Bacharach, Kenny Rogers, Frank Sinatra and the immortal Elvis Presley.

My interest in music started on listening to the radio The Mellow Touch (is it still around?) and, yes, Love Radio (today, it is reduced to bantering hosts trying to make cute with the listeners, and are capable of maniacal laughing for 5 minutes at the least).

Today, my playlist consists of music by My Chemical Romance, Paramore and my latest favorite, The Fray. For local OPM (is that redundant?), I prefer MYMP, Sitti and Imago.

The Fray is a pop-rock band whose repertoire consists of melodies laced with a slight hint of rock. Whenever you listen to their music while pining for someone, you will feel like committing suicide in the name of love. Some of their music can be archaic and bubblegummy, but they have honest-to-goodness lyrics, with piano overtones and guitar riffs to match. The band is not exactly new (they have an album out when they started in 2002) but to the delight of radioheads everywhere, they improved and eventually made their mark in music history.

Some of their songs include “All At Once”, “Over My Head (Cable Car)”, “How To Save A Life”, “Look After You”, and many others. Their latest album is How to Save A Life. Buy one. Don’t ask why. You’ll never regret it. Now.

]]> http://syringeno23.wordpress.com/2008/03/04/ministry-of-sound/feed/ 0 paramorefan http://syringeno23.wordpress.com/2008/03/04/5/ http://syringeno23.wordpress.com/2008/03/04/5/#comments Tue, 04 Mar 2008 06:37:08 +0000 grcflchrty http://syringeno23.wordpress.com/2008/03/04/5/ ]]>  NOTE: This post can also be seen in my old blog.For a while, I’ve been considering the JS promenade as a sort of coming-out of teenagers into the gist of high-class behavior and ultimate etiquette. It’s like a teen’s crash course into the debutante society.

Boy, was I stand corrected (I couldn’t think of a more politically-correct term) or what.

I always expected the prom as the rare time that my batch (which is notorious for unruliness) will behave themselves. Instead, I saw what I almost see every school day, except everyone was dressed a little bit better (I even looked like a decent human being. Shocking.).

I’m not saying that the prom is bad. In fact, I enjoyed it, mainly because the venue is great (Fernwood Gardens, picture Shangrila crossed with a dumbed-down Garden of Eden), the food is excellent and everyone is clean cut and pretty/handsome.

The boys all wore pretty much the same formulaic attire: a coat-and-tie with slacks. (I wore a pink polo and tie and a black coat and pants. I looked like a blister in pants.) The girls however, were a different story: they all wore beautiful gowns, and their hairs were all dolled up. I never seen so much frills and froth in my life – I feel like I’m watching an episode of Encantadia considering the fact that the venue resembles a forest.

I, unfortunately, have no date. Instead, I managed to get a table with my closest dorm fiends (oops, friends). We were seated for a few minutes before the program started. A rendition of the national anthem (I told my seatmate what was its relation to the prom. He had no answer.) and an invocation by our school’s choir, Himig Agham.

After a flurry of introductions and a uncoordinated cotillion (mainly because the dance floor was only a few square feet) , dinner is finally served. What can I say, it is delicious. I love the marlin with lemon butter sauce and the vegetables – I’m drooling all over the keyboard while typing this.

After eating, the dancing and socializing began. Since the venue is beautiful and everyone is at their best attire (and because I want to flaunt my digital camera, which I borrowed from my brother) , I took a lot of pictures.

I saw many of my third year teachers, and they look a lot better than they did in our classes (Joke!) .

I considered dancing with my adviser, Ms. Avancena, butI was expected to go home by 11:30. Blast it, I’m old enough to attend the prom, but I still have a curfew.

The prom is a very interesting experience; I hope that next year, I’ll have someone to enjoy it with…

(whisper to self) I’m not emo, I’m not emo …

I will be posting the prom pictures, so keep posted on this blog.

Yay.

We arrived in Banaue a little after lunch. We checked in this low-profile hotel, with horribly cramped rooms. Bunny’s house is a few- minute drive away. We rested for a while before strolling around the streets. Since I got plenty of sleep while we’re driving, me and my brother decided to walk around.

The great thing about Banaue is that you can really breathe the fresh mountain air, and the weather is always great. The roads are winding, and if you manage to walk for an hour, you will get lost. The roads are stained with nganga, a chicle-like leaf which, if chewed, will stain your teeth red. It is reportedly said that the nganga can induce a druglike high if you chewed on it long enough. The Igorots, even the children, are fond of this, and have taken to chew nganga as a pastime. As a result, the roads in Baguio is colored red from the nganga spit.

Sort-of-related thing: my mother remarked that Igorots are said to have very strong teeth. It is also rumored that nganga has compounds said to strengthen teeth.

A day after, Bunny’s wedding proceeded. My mom and brothers were all wearing attire, while I stuck like a sore thumb in a semiformal getup. Before going to the church, my mom said that I will be one of the readers in the Mass.

“Whaaaat? Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Oh, I’m sure you could handle it, its just a reading.”

Sure, I could read, but I’m not good in oratory. And I can’t read in front of a hundred people! Aaaaargggh!

The wedding proceeded without a hitch. When I read the reading, no one batted an eye, except my mom.

After the wedding, my cousin held a reception at his house, for the whole barangay. The fare consists of the usual stuff: lechon kawali, adobo, embutido, and a rice wine called tuba. My mom suggested that I try it, but I graciously declined. I’m not in a mood to get smashed.

After the buffet, the bride set up a sort-of ritual wedding dance, in which some relatives of both families can join in. My brothers and I pushed our mom to dance, and she eventually joined the ceremony.

And that’s pretty much sums up my Banaue trip.

Next time I go there, I’m gonna bring more jackets.

I went to Baguio many times already (5 times, I think). This account is from my December 2005 trip to Banaue, 8 hours away from Baguio.

My family was invited to my cousin’s wedding on December 23(24?). We went 2 days ahead. 1 day to get there, and 1 day to rest.

Anyone who’s been to Baguio can attest to the mindbending length of the trip. Depending on where you came from, the trip could last 2-8 hours (counting pitstops and gasoline refills).  And add that to the fact that Banaue is 8 hours away from Baguio, and your trip would last for a day. Since I already went there a few times, I simply slept throughout the trip. Which is hard, because the terrain we’re going through is paved with rocks.

The entourage consists of my mom, my two brothers, my brother-in-law (my sister just gave birth at that time), a family friend, and our hired driver. My cousin is getting married in his fiancee’s hometown. Oh, by the way, my cousin’s fiancee is part-Igorot. They’re actually married already, but to Bunny’s (yes, that’s my cousins name) wishes, they planned a church wedding.

I’ll tell you more about the trip later.