I Love Boy Bands

I love boy bands. Menudo, New Kids on the Block, Nsync, I love them all. But my friend Lucyl loves them more. So for you Lucyl, I dedicate this fitting tribute to one of our favorite boy bands, the Backstreet Boys:

*Notice the guy at the back? The one on the computer. He doesn't seem to notice that something's goin on behind his back...

A World Without Men

I was surfing through the net earlier when I chanced upon this article and it got me thinking (everything gets you thinking, Jovi!).... Here's a portion of that article:

Will science render men unnecessary?

By Brian Alexander

MSNBC contributor

Recently a team of scientists announced they had made artificial sperm from human bone marrow, and media reports abounded with the dire news that my goodfellas (and by extension, me) had been rendered unnecessary.

If a woman chose to do so, speculated tabloid journalists, she could make sperm from her own bone marrow, fertilize another woman’s egg — and voila!

Hmmm. Interesting. Add that to another study that says that because of a genetic defect in the male chromosome, men could disappear off the face of the earth within the next 125,000 years, and we can assume that men might very well be facing extinction. That wouldn't be a problem since by that time, women can already procreate by themselves. Yeah I know, we wouldn't be alive then but let's have this for purposes of discussion. Ladies, can we live in a world without men?

I can think of a million advantages of a world without men. Here are just some of them:

1. We wouldn't have to worry about the toilet seat being left up

2. There'd be no pressure to marry or to get nasty bikini waxes

3. No gender descrimination

4. No unecessary women's movement

5. Less spam in our emails since there'd be none of those Viagra ads

6. No need for birth control

7. None of those tambays in the street corner who keeps on leering at you and saying, "Miss, miss! Pwede makipagkilala?"

8. No sensitive, metrosexual type guy in the club who, as the evening wears out and your conversation moves along, turns out to be gay (to your utter disappointment) just when you are expecting some bedroom action

9. No male/female MRT cars

10. Everybody listens to you

Yeah, life would seem better without men but would we want that? Without men, who would cuddle with us and kiss us and hold us in a way that makes us feel safe? Who would amuse us and pamper us and spoil us rotten? Who would tell us we look good (even when we don't)? The truth is, everything needs an opposite in order for us to achieve that perfect balance in life. We need men. We need their strength, their love, and in the best cases, their protection. Ah... And there's the SEX... Let's just leave it at that.

Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman With PMS

I get bad PMS everytime. No. I'm not using it as an excuse for bad behavior, it's just that I do get it bad. As if bloating, headaches, cramps and food cravings aren't enough during this time of the month, I also have to deal with the fact that during this period, I'm crazier and more homicidal than usual. A single wrong word can make me either weepy or ballistic. When I happen to have PMS during a no - work day, I spend the entire day in my bathrobe watching TV, weeping over shampoo ads while drowning my sorrows in a pint of chocolate ice cream (Yes folks, "Death by Chocolate" is indeed possible).

The Hormone Hostage knows that there are days in the month when all a man has to do is open his mouth and he takes his life in his own hands! This is a handy guide that should be as common as a driver's license in the wallet of every husband, boyfriend, or significant other!

DANGEROUS:	SAFER:	SAFEST:	ULTRA SAFE:
What's for dinner?	Can I help you with dinner?	Where would you like to go for dinner?	Here, have some chocolate.
Are you wearing that?	Wow, you sure look good in brown!	WOW! Look at you!	Here, have some chocolate
What are you so worked up about?	Could we be overreacting?	Here's my paycheck.	Here, have some chocolate.
Should you be eating that?	You know, there are a lot of apples left.	Can I get you a glass of wine with that?	Here, have some chocolate.
What did you DO all day?	I hope you didn't over-do it today.	I've always loved you in that robe!	Here, have some more chocolate.

13 Things PMS Stands For:

1. Pass My Shotgun

2. Psychotic Mood Shift

3. Perpetual Munching Spree

4 Puffy Mid-Section

5. People Make me Sick

6. Provide Me with Sweets

7. Pardon My Sobbing

8. Pimples May Surface

9. Pass My Sweat pants

10. Pissy Mood Syndrome

11. Plainly; Men Suck

12. Pack My Stuff

13. Potential Murder Suspect

Everybody's Free To Wear Sunscreen

Chicago Tribune Columnist Mary Schmich wrote a column in 1997 imagining what she would say if she was giving a high school graduation speech. The speech wound up on the internet, attributed to author Kurt Vonnegut. The writing became a song by Australian film director Baz Luhrman. Schmich thinks that the popularity of her "graduation speech" indicates that the Millennium Generation is hungry for advice. This speech, simple as it may seem, has served me well, especially during those times when I need to re-group and re-assess how I am living my life...

Everybody's Free (to wear sunscreen...)

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proven by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen...

by Mary Schmich

And You Ask Me Why I Don't Have Kids

Don't get me wrong, I don't hate kids. In fact, I would like to have a couple of those someday... But I liked this ad just the same...

Like I'M Stoned (Musings in the Shower)

Audioslave - Like a Stone via Noolmusic.com

---

Get Video Code For YouTube Music Videos Rock Pop - Audioslave - Like a Stone

I sing in the shower. It's one of the numerous annoying things that I do. And this morning it's "Like a Stone" by Audioslave. It's not that I like the song, it was just a bad case of "Last Song Syndrome". It was the last song I heard before entering the shower so I'm bound to sing it there. Anyway, while singing, I became fascinated by the song's lyrics, which goes like this (please excuse any mistake in the lyrics, I don't have the song memorized):

On a cobweb afternoon
In a room full of emptiness
By a freeway I confess
I was lost in the pages
Of a book full of death
Reading how we'll die alone
And if we're good we'll lay to rest
Anywhere we want to go

In your house I long to be
Room by room patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like a stone
I'll wait for you there
Alone

And on my deathbed I will pray
To the gods and the angels
Like a pagan to anyone
Who will take me to heaven
To a place I recall
I was there so long ago
The sky was bruised
The wine was bled
And there you led me on

In your house I long to be
Room by room patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like a stone
I'll wait for you there
Alone, alone

And on I read
Until the day was gone
And I sat in regret
Of all the things that I've done
For all that I've blessed
And all that I've wronged
In dreams until my death
I will wander on

In your house I long to be
Room by room patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like a stone
I'll wait for you there
Alone, alone

Chris Cornell's words probably don't mean shit, I really don't know, but the song reminded me of my dad's last few weeks alive while he was (probably) waiting for the inevitable... For me, the song evokes visions of waiting for death (not necessarily bad) and our own personal heaven. The song implies that heaven is what we make it and that there are various ways to find it (contrary to the traditional monotheistic way of thinking). Halfway through my musings, I suddenly stopped myself. For someone who is supposed to be showering, I'm thinking TOO much. It's not healthy.

Chris Benoit (1967 - 2007)

I enjoy watching WWE. I enjoy the fakeness and the fact that it is entertainment and everything about it is contrived and scripted. It's like watching my favorite local teleserye. Add those to the fact that I enjoy a bit of TV violence every now and then and you have the perfect formula for a big WWE fan. I am not the biggest fan though, but still, I love watching it. All those pre - conceived drama, all those badly delivered lines and dialogues, all those choreographed moves, I love them all. But recently, something happened to one of WWE's more popular wrestlers that has dwarfed and eclipsed all those drama. It is so shocking that not even Vince Macmahon's wildest imaginings can conceive such a tragedy.

Y'all probably know what happened, Chris Benoit was found hanging from his gym ceiling in his Atlanta home. And as if that wasn't enough, his wife and seven -year - old son were also found dead, allegedly murdered by Benoit himself before taking his own life. It's all over the internet, all over the news and even on the local papers. A lot of people have discussed the tragedy at length and experts have rendered their opinions on the matter and I don't wanna add to that co'z I have no idea what really transpired on that fateful weekend. I am not a Benoit fan (although I named one of my cats after him), so this is not a tribute either.

This blogpost of mine is more of a series of questions. What would drive a man to kill his own wife and son and then himself? Is it the steroids? Is it all those prescription drugs? What made him snap? I probably will never know. All I know is that this is one of those senseless waste of lives that we see everyday. It has become so common that most of us have become desensitized to it. This sort of ugliness doesn't bother us anymore. Suicide, and murder for that matter, have become so fashionable especially if committed by celebrities and well - known personalities.

Just what was he thinking? Was he sad? Was he hating the life that he has? A life that a lot of us would kill to have? Did he feel empty? Maybe he did. Now a song is playing in my mind. Remember "All Apologies" by Nirvana? Maybe what he was feeling can be summed up in the song's line which was aptly sung by Kurt Cobain who also took his own life, "All in all is all we are...."

Hungree Anyone?

I eat a lot. I have the appetite of a construction worker after a hard day's work. Anyone who wants to get on my good side uses food as bribe. I just don't know where all that food goes as I am a mere 112lbs. Anyway, a couple of nights ago, my cousin brought home one those humongous Super Duper Burgers from Hungree Burgers in Parañaque. As the name implies, you have to be really famished before you eat this burger as it is 8 inches in diameter (about the size of a regular pizza pan). I finished a third of the entire thing. And finished the remaining portion the next day (not in one sitting). I'm not really a food critic so I'll just say it was good. The Super Duper Burger costs around P200+ so some of you might have to pay someone on Friday for a Hungree Burger today. Eat up!

Brain Freeze

I haven't been blogging regularly lately. I even thought that maybe I couldn't keep up with this blog thing for long. The reason being (aside from the fact that I'm having a bad case of the flatulence) that there are days when words just fail me. There are days when I'm simply feeling blah and nothing seems to fascinate or interest me so I can't come up with anything significant to write about. Although I believe that it's not what you write about but how you write about it. Anyway, I can probably come up with a million reasons why I can't write anything decent at present but maybe I just have to admit that there are days when my brain simply freezes and just refuses to function at its normal capacity. It's a brain freeze of a different kind from that which you get from chugging a giant Slurpee. I have it now and I have it bad. I hope I can thaw it and just get on with my life.

Mama Mary, Tatay Gardo and Wilson Philips (yeah all in one story)

My good friend Lucyl, who is quite a bit of a wordsmith (just like I am. Wink! Wink!) was the first to blog about this topic but she wanted my own take on it on my blog instead of re-posting hers so here goes.

I was rooming with my batchmate Janette and several younger girls during my sophomore year in college (I went to that university symbolized by that naked guy who likes to flash everyone who ever enters the campus. That's a dead giveaway). One of those younger roomies was Lucyl who was a freshman then. We shared the same tiny room with bunk beds (in the typical boardinghouse fashion) in a house near our school. Lucyl was among the first (new) boarders to arrive and her encounter with the landlady was not out of the ordinary except for the bit where the landlady told her her name is Mary and insisted that she be called "Mama Mary". Due probably to her "all - girls Catholic school" upbringing, Lucyl automatically felt like reciting all the mysteries of the Holy Rosary in front of the landlady upon hearing that. But she was able to control herself and just genuflected and crossed herself in secret (old habits die hard).

Anyway, that was nothing compared to the landlord. We call him Tatay Gardo (I forgot his real name). He was in his sixties then and he has a habit of parading in his underpants
(really huge ones with loose waistbands. Oh the horror!) hence the name Gardo taken from Gardo Versoza who was the happening male sex symbol at that time. Like that wasn't enough, whenever we had to use the phone or get something from the fridge, we had to go to Mama Mary's and Tatay Gardo's room because that was where the phone and the fridge were at. And whenever we go inside, we'd always find Tatay Gardo lying on his bed like a beached whale while watching TV, in his underpants, no less. No wonder I was such a disturbed kid at that time.

If you've lived in a boardinghouse, you know better than to leave your personal belongings lying around co'z anything left alone in plain sight of the other people living there is fair game. Including the owners' belongings. One night, it was the landlord's liquor cabinet (you know how Pinoys are, they just display their liquor in their nice bottles wthout actually consuming them). So we chugged some. While we were at it we saw a plastic bottle of Hershey's Brown Cow on the dining table beckoning to us (I had alcohol in my system then ok?) so we all rushed to it and I was the first at it. Feeling quite smug from my small victory over my roomies and with a stupid smile on my face, I quickly flipped open the plastic top dispenser, placed the bottle over my face, aimed it at my mouth, and waited for all that chocolatey goodness. Then I was gagging. The thing had soy sauce in it instead of chocolate syrup. Almost on the verge of tears, I hauled my soy sauce drenched self to the bathroom and had shower for the second time around that night.

When I was all clean and soy sauce free, we retired to our room and together, my roomies and I sang Wilson Philips hits (that was the 90s, people!) complete with the blending of voices.

That was just one day. Imagine what four years might have been like.

Love According to Scary Duck (That's MR. Scary Duck to You!)

For someone who doesn't run out of things to say (an ex once told me that I talk too much), it is with much difficulty that I am admitting that as of this writing, I am officially suffering from a malignancy called, "Writers' Block". So now I shamelessly resort to what people with nothing to blog about resort to, post somebody else's work. So here's LOVE according to one of my favorite bloggers, Scary Duck (Mind you, he's not scary and he's not a duck):

Love is......

- particularly difficult without genitals...

- kidding yourself that you haven't been caught eyeing up her mother...

- frankly impossible in the office stock cupboard. People always need staples at the most inconvenient of moments...

- a chemical reaction involving the increased release of testosterone and estrogen resulting in an emotional attachment to a person, object, piece of liver in a sock or inflatable woman...

- saving Flossie from the knacker's yard, if only for old time's sake...

- illogical, Captain, more to the left please...

- filming her every move with a number of hidden cameras, following her to the shops and beating to a pulp any man who so much as looks at her, because nobody understands her the way I do...

- ultimately more expensive than picking up slatterns on the Oxford Road, but without the genital herpes roulette...

- asking what her sister looks like naked...

- refusing to press charges, even though you are still walking with a limp...

- writing her adoring letters featuring the words "cum-dripping browneye" and "I've paid a mate to hold the camera"...

- respecting her enough not to draw attention to the piece of toilet paper stuck to her bum-hole whilst doing it doggy style...

Help me out here. In the words of poor, dead Howard Jones: "What is love?"

Confession: One of the above is true.

Labels: Love posted by Scaryduck on Monday, June 11, 2007

Guys and Breaking Up

I rarely watch Sex and the City but I did get to see the episode where Berger dumped Carrie via a Post - It note left at the dresser the morning after they had sex. Miranda, Carrie's friend, was also once dumped through the guy's doorman who simply said to her, "I'm sorry Ms. Hobbes, Jonathan won't be coming down. Ever." I myself also had the misfortune of being dumped by a guy who did it by simply "disappearing". He just stopped calling. Now that was something. He'd probably give Houdini a run for his money when it comes to performing "disappearing acts".

What is it with guys and breaking up? Most of them are just so darn clueless as to how to go about it properly. Are they afraid they'd hurt us with their straightforwardness? Are they afraid that we'd probably scream, shout, cry, pull out our hair, or bang our heads against the wall if they try to break up with us face to face? Well yeah maybe some women might resort to that. I once had a guy friend whose girlfriend threatened him to hold her breath until she passes out when he tried to break up with her face to face. But that's beside the point. Guys, the fact is, every woman, or anyone for that matter, deserves a decent, proper break - up, no matter whose fault it is. If you want out, have the balls to go to her, talk to her, explain your reason/s. Just simply tell her to her face. Why? The answer is quite simple really, those women, regardless of the degree of bitchiness, were once important parts of your lives. Well ok, some might not be that important, but still, they were parts of your lives and not giving them the proper break - up that they deserve is like saying that what you had with them meant nothing at all. It disregards and discounts everything that you've once shared, whether good or bad.

In this regard, I would like to say "Kudos!" to those men who have the guts to break up with their girlfriends properly. It takes a real man to do that. As for the rest, well, they're just a bunch of spineless cowards. Sorry.

Line to Heaven

To the man who has always been there for me through every skinned knee and heartache, to the man who didin't have much but gave me everything and treated me like a princess, to the man who never stopped loving me even when I was bad, to the man who never got tired of picking me up and brushing my tears away whenever I fall down, to my strength, my hero, my teacher, my security blanket, my number one fan, my shoulder to cry on, my knight in shining armour, my one true love, PAPA... Happy fathers' day... I know you're not here with us now, physically but I'm sure you can hear me there in "daddy heaven". Words can never express how much I miss you... I LOVE YOU, PA...There is no one else like you 'cause you're the best...

Love Always,


Obeng

The Wisdom of Sesame Street

I grew up on Sesame Street. It was my babysitter. When I was around four or five and my mom was too busy, she just propped me in front of our black and white, cabinet type TV and made me watch the show. Even the replays in the afternoon. What I need to know as a pre-schooler I learned from Sesame Street and not in kindergarten co'z I was a pre-school drop out and just went straight ahead to grade school after passing an exam and an interview. Probably because I thought I was smarter than the teachers so I dropped out of pre-school altogether. When I was a kid I dreamt of living in Sesame Street and wished everyone around me where cute hairy monsters. Speaking of which, here are my fave sesame street characters and how I rate them:

COOKIE MONSTER

Cookie is the MAN! Cookie's got it ALL going on! Cookie is a huge terry-cloth mass of greed, gluttony, and astonishing lack of self-restraint, and this is on EDUCATIONAL TV! And Cookie Monster, in his Zen-like wisdom, provided my generation with perhaps the only clear moral message we'll ever know, a beacon for our scattered lives: "C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me." It's good enough for all of us, Cookie. Rating: A

OSCAR THE GROUCH

Mean people may suck, but Oscar rocks. I always enjoyed Oscar's bit where he's happy when he's angry and angry when he's happy, but I never knew I'd be emulating him someday. Oscar is another example of a character that wouldn't even be considered if Sesame Street were being created today. Instead they'd slip some Zoloft in his feed, transplant him to a brightly-colored recycled oil-drum, and have him lead "Ring Around the Rosie." Rating: A-

ERNIE AND BERT

Yeah, yeah. Were they just roommates or were they lovers? Listen folks, they were Muppets. They may have had hands up their asses but it was purely for puppeteering purposes. Besides, for my money the real sexual tension was between Grover and Kermit. Anyhow, Ernie and Bert always had the song-and-dance thing down pat. Ernie's Rubber Ducky song is the Sesame Street classic, and Bert's "Doing the Pigeon" had similar appeal, plus a really unnerving dance move. And then there was the bit where their noses got pulled off. Always fun. Rating: B

THE COUNT

Man, talk about a twisted personality! Talk about obsessive-compulsive disorder! Talk about the numbers one through twelve! You really couldn't get the Count into any long-term plots because he really only did one thing, but he certainly did it well. I think many children learned to count purely on the off chance that they could summon thunder and lightning by doing so. But I have one question. The Count looked like a vampire, right down to the fangs. And he had the bat thing going. Was he a vampire? Did he feed on living blood? Or, more likely given his Muppetness, living felt? A horrifying yet oddly appealing idea. Rating: B-

BIG BIRD

The name was kind of a gimme. Big Bird is somewhat less twisted than most of the Muppets around him, but due to his intimidating size and lack of baby-lisp, he doesn't have the repulsive Elmo cuteness. In the early days he had a kind of lovable loser image going, with all his hallucination, and his calling Mr. Hooper "Mr. Looper," but Hooper/Looper took the dirt nap and Snuffy showed himself to everyone, so B.B.'s in a much more capable place now. Rating: B

GROVER

He's simply annoying (especally as a waiter) and doesn't care if he was. He's cute but not in an Elmo sort of way which is simply annoying but not in a Grover sort of way which is endearing. Oh, you know what I mean... Grover's my fave. Rating A+

ELMO

I hate him and I didn't even bother to rate him. Then why include him in this list? Well just so I can say that I hate him. Hehehe!

All my faves are sort of, well, twisted. Figures why I am the way I am now. Yeah, blame it all on TV...

A Beautiful Mind

I have a thing for smart guys. No, not the geeky type but the sexy, brooding, a bit angsty, devil - may - care smart guy. Smarts turn me on more than washboard abs do (but those are nice too). I've had the privilege to meet such men and have even shared varying degrees of "closeness" with some of them but there is one guy I'll never forget. I'll call him "Mr. Shankly".

Mr. Shankly list his occupation as "a writer by inclination and a humanist by inspiration". He taught me that sexuality and sensuality should not be objectified to fit a patriarchal pattern. He opened my fascination for friends and lovers and how the two can intermingle. He's into "retooling people's paradigms". He's a 'rebel' but a peace loving one. He showed me how one man can make a difference. He told me that I am the most "whole" person he has ever met and tried hard to make me see that. I'll forever be thankful for the brief time that I got to spend with him. His is one of the most beautiful minds I have ever encountered.

Here's a peek into that beautiful mind which I fell in love with. I hope he'll forgive me for posting this on my blog. Here's one of the stuff he wrote a few months back:

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Make them feel what its like in ruined part of Guimaras

Now that Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and her entourage have stayed overnight in a resort on Guimaras Island, they say a part of the island is still beautiful. And that is true. In fact, all of Guimaras was once beautiful.

But government was sleeping when a Solar Sunshine converted ship with a captain with an expired license ventured to sail with 2,000,000 liters of bunker fuel. It slept for about two more weeks while the news about the oil spill was all over the new media. It woke up to create a task force. Now it is up and about and ready to savor Guimaras' beauty.

This time, will somebody please get hundreds of one-gallon paint cans and fill them with gasoline. Put them with open lids around the bed of the President and her entourage so that they can smell the gasoline while they sleep, till they wake up in the morning (that is, if they were able to sleep).

Then, when they go to the bathroom and dressing room, put the cans there as well, and when they come out, see how they will look for the rest of the day. When they go for their first cup of tea or coffee and breakfast, put the cans there and see how they will fill their stomachs between gulps of air perfumed with gasoline.

And when they board their luxury cars, put the hundreds of cans filled with gasoline in with them.

At the office, the cafeteria, wherever they go, bring the cans, open them for them to smell. Let us give them the opportunity to experience even just a far-cry similarity of how half of Guimaras feels.

Have they not seen all the blessings with which Petron Corp. and Solar Sunshine Development have gifted Guimaras? Oil, precious oil, so abundant, delivered right around every valued family domain, no value-added tax, no limit, no cost.

Even just for a day, let Arroyo and her entourage, and Petron and Solar Sunshine feel how every man, woman and child has lived in the other half of Guimaras for more than two weeks now.

An Alien in Cyberspace

I don't belong in cyberspace. This much is true. Events of late has proven that. There is much jealousy in the web. This comes as no susprise since most of us who has ever been part of the worldwide web one way or the other have chosen to do so because we want to establish personal, albeit long distance, connection with others out there. And when others manage to establish connections with those that we have established our own bonds with, we become threatened, territorial, not realizing that nobody owns anybody here. I know this happens in the real world as well but it is magnified even more in cyberspace.

Cyberspace is an arena where people compete for attention. And for that reason alone, I am sure I'll remain an alien in this world. Someone who'll always remain outside, looking in.

DERAILED

For the longest time I have been consumed with thoughts of things that are missing in my life that I've lost focus on the more important stuff. For the longest time thoughts of what could've been had left me feeling so empty, sad, and even bitter. For the longest time sadness has so derailed me that I failed to see the good things that are surrounding me. Right here. Staring me straight in the eye.

It's time to get back on track. It's time to just simply enjoy what the world has to offer without questioning whether I deserve it or not. It's time to stop thinking and analyzing and just let myself savor the sensation that I'm feeling right here, right now. It's time to stop worrying about what the future holds and just live in the moment. It's time to be thankful for what I have and stop asking why other people have more because in reality, I'm truly blessed. It's time to be kind to myself and will myself to be happy because happiness is a choice.

Blogservations

Why do I blog? I'm not really sure. I am new to posting blogs as I am new to reading blogs. I used to ask, why do people blog and why do people read other people's blogs? I know for a fact that blogging is an avenue for our uncensored thoughts but why make them so public when there's the journal that can be safely kept under lock and key? Are we now infected by a somewhat "controlled exhibitionism" that we would even let total strangers take a peek into the innermost recesses of our hearts, minds and souls? I'm hooked. I've finally been swept by technology and the limitless possibility it offers to connect everyone on the globe. We blog because we want to connect.

What they say is true. If there was ever a testimony that the global world is filled with humans craving personal connection and desiring to leave a legacy, the blog is its confirmation. Although, as to what legacy I'll leave, I don't really know...

A Guy Named NIMROD

Let me tell you about a guy named Nimrod. No not the great Babylonian king but a "king" in his own right and in his own world. I loved Nimrod. And in my eyes he was every bit the king that he was. That's the funny thing when you're in love. You think the person you love is the greatest. Anyway, life with Nimrod wasn't a walk in the park. He was a major pain in the 'arse' then. I didn't understand then but I do now. He was going through some tough times. But he tried. We had some good times. More bad times. But I didn't care co'z then, in my eyes, he was irreplaceable. He was the greatest. In my eyes, there was no guy like him.

That was then. Now, I don't love Nimrod the way I loved him then. But the irony of it all is that I think he is an even GREATER person now than when I was still passionately in love with him. We "found" each other again recently and I got to know him in a different light. I'm not blinded by romantic or sexual love this time so I got to see him with clearer eyes. And in my clearer eyes, he is still the greatest. He is still irreplaceable. In my clearer eyes, there is still no one like him. Nimrod and I have finally become real friends and in that light, we have come to appreciate each other more. I still love Nimrod but my love now is the kind of love that true friendships are made of.

Nimrod has found a new love and he's gonna be a father soon. I am genuinely happy for him. He deserves every good thing that is happening to him now.

Happy fathers' day to you Nimrod... :-)

I'm a Girl So I'm a Technophobe

I hate stereotyping. But there is one stereotype that is quite true. In my case at least. I'm a girl so I'm a technophobe. It's not that I despise new technology altogether, I just don't care about it that much. I'd rather go shoe shopping any day than check out the latest gadgets at the mall. As far as I'm concerned, a MICROCHIP is a disappointingly small piece of Doritos and a HARD DRIVE is from Manila to Ilocos Norte without rest stops. If I want any of my electronic devices repaired, I just smile sweetly at a boyfriend and ask him to fix it with a promise of a reward afterwards. My cellphones? I just hand my credit card to my brother and he buys them for me. Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for all the convenience new technology has brought into my life but I dont need to undertand it, right? Ask me about cosmetics, food, fashion, politics, literature, arts, and even hunky guys and I can give you an educated answer even when I'm half asleep.

Now I realized I need to understand it. Why? One reason, I can't install my webcam. Help!

SEX

When it comes to sex I wish I could be more like a man. I want to be cool, sexy, uninvolved. Don't we all, ladies? Don't we wish sex isn't such a big deal to us? Don't we wish we can just have it and walk away from it unscathed? Don't we wish we can just have it for its own sake and not attach too much meaning to it? Yeah we do. And probably some of us have done a Samantha Jones and already achieved all these that we are wishing for. But most of us are like, well, Carrie Bradshaw, it'll probably take a bit more time. Why? Because that's just how we are. This society conditioned us to think of sex in a certain way. Like it should only be done within the confines of marriage, that it should only be done with someone we truly love and all that crap. Frankly, this way of thinking has driven me crazy on more than one occassion. For me, the real challenge lies on how I can break free from this way of thinking, this conditioning. I decided I need practice. And practice I will (and a lot of guys are more than willing to help. Nice try!). And hopefully, I'll get there soon (that's so Piolo!).

Love Has Left Me And It Hasn't Come Back Yet

Don't worry, this is not the garden variety heartbreak blog post. I don't do mush that well. Like most women out there, I've had my heart broken several times than what is considered "healthy". I could've assumed the normal female position (I know what you're thinking and I'm not talking about that) and just simply pin the blame on the guys but I realized that resorting to that is quite irresponsible. So I owned up. I made the choices so I should live with the consequences of my choices. In doing so, I was able to let go of the "hate" I felt for the men who have "wronged" me and I became a bit happier.

Personal Note:
So to "you" who is still feeling "guilty" (you know who you are), please stop co'z I'm fine. Yeah it's true, love hasn't come back to me yet but I am certain it will, in more ways than one. But until then, you'll remain my fave. The one who I loved the most... ;-)

Girl, Interrupted

Hi, I'm Jovi and I think I'm a bit crazy. Fact is, I think everybody is, up to a certain degree. Have you ever read a book on abnormal psychology and think you have all the disorders written there? I'm that way. There is one disorder in particular that I think I have. Borderline personality disorder (BPD) is defined within the fields of clinical psychology as a mental condition characterized primarily by emotional dysregulation, extreme "black and white" thinking, or "splitting" (believing that something is one of only two possible things, and ignoring any possible "in-betweens"), and chaotic relationships. It is described as a serious mental illness characterized by pervasive instability in mood, interpersonal relationships, self image, identity, and behavior, as well as a disturbance in the individual's sense of self. Hmmmm... Sounds like me... Call me a psychological hypochondriac but who among us is sane anyway? Who is to say what is normal and what is not? Is anyone of us totally sane or totally insane?

This is what my blog is all about. No, not a boring lecture on BPD but how I manage to survive all the craziness in my life...