Taking a break

I feel like an asswipe because I haven't put anything up on this blog anymore so let me share something ground-shaking:

I stopped everything productive and relaxed full-time.

Leeching off the resources of my parents, I am focusing all my energy on being a full-time slacker. I can't do any more journalistic work because I am required to go back and forth between places A and B. Even as a freelance journalist, I need to keep some promises and that is hard when you can't stay in one place. It is not under my control.

I'm dancing ballet again but I'm as flexible as a plank of wood. I can't do decent altitudes and my plies share the silhouette of a urinating canine. Worse - I'm forgetting the order of the five positions. Oh joy.

But one thing I do almost regularly is watch movies in the local theater. Now this I can talk about for a while:

Filipinos are so sketchy they think movie theaters are for smooching. Get a room. I know it is more expensive but it is far more appropriate. I don't have to bring seat covers next time I watch a movie.

Even so, movies shouldn't be a "date" thing at all. It should be a solitary activity. It is an immersion, like in a bath tub, all senses dedicated. I don't share bath tubs.

Oh well. Maybe I'm just going to post a string of snarky movie reviews where everything is to low-brow for my cultured armpits. Goodbye!

PS: For the nth time, I've read Sylvia Plath's "The Bell Jar". Now it's Nabokov's "Lolita". There is every reason to question my mental health.

Also, my parents will be giving me a responsibility regarding their occupations soon. It is one of two things:

1. A red-tape procedure which looks important but isn't.

2. Something that lasts for 30 minutes tops.

Ballet class later!

which translates to the ripping apart of ligaments and the snapping of shrunken muscle strands.

I've read something online via serendipity (I don't mean a website) that if your time turns to gold, keep your blog alive by giving it short, quick articles. So here is one.

There is a problem when I attempt something. I just tell it up front that something is my first time and it won't be my fault if I eff up because I am still in the early parts of the learning curve.

For now,  I'm back to writing for the newspaper regularly and more than that, I drive everyday which is breaking the self-cast spell that I will never be able to drive. However, I do still underestimate my skills. I drive an automatic (never a stick-shift) SUV plus I have already reversed into a technically parked car. 

By the way, later at 4 PM will be my first dance class in a billion years. When I found my ballet shoes, they were very tight but I put them on for half an hour at length because I want my feet to curl up again. Being able to point my feet above the rest is good! I'll be doing ballet which renders my age ancient but never say die, right? Of course, there are dancers out there who started or restarted late but they often don't do dance professionally or at least not classical ballet.

That is kind of sad because I like classical Russian-choreographed ballet! However, let me be honest about the real intentions:

1. I need a fresh boost of confidence. I have the self-esteem of a dead plant and I think that actually going to class for a talent would help me convince myself that I can do something special.
2. A workout. I have a problem with running and going to the gym. I run too much that my body hurts and for the gyms, I don't like seeing other people sweat so much. The other gym people seem to like that. I could have some form of OCD. That doesn't really matter. Ballet classes only last for a specific amount of time (no abuse) and everyone will be (shriek) fabulous. Except me. I look like a brimming garbage bag in black tights.
3. Friends. Being an out-of-school youth means a lot of down time and almost no peers that are as free as I am so ballet will introduce me to the cool kids. They're probably free on Saturdays. My longstanding best friend (7 years) is an incredible ballerina and we'll be going to the same school. That would be cool.

This is definitely not the shortest blog post but hey, I tried.

Journaling: Why keep a journal?

I'm going back to Manila tomorrow to finalize my leave-of-absence from the university (I'm taking a late gap year) and to collect the things I've left in my dormitory (God put a low ceiling price on excess baggage).

Because of this, I have been exceptionally emotional and I've been writing 5-page long entries on my journal. I think it is time that I talk about the habit of journaling. I don't know if people actually call it that but I think it will work. 

I'm a very old-fashioned person. Although I own a computer and breath WiFi, I still try to keep a good grasp on what is past. For example, I have a drawer filled with paper and envelopes because I still do send snail mail.

I also use a maroon Parker fountain pen. My eyeglasses also have lenses the size of the North Pole. When people ask me why, I tell them the large frames gets rid of blind corners but everyone knows that is not true. And an even bigger lie that I never lose pens so it is intelligent to invest.

Back to why I keep a journal.

1. It was suggested by my doctor. My mood swings are on a clinical level and it will be a strong diagnostic feature if we can map out the duration of the cycles (I've never discussed it publicly and I think I'm not ready yet so no details).

2. I am like an apple: the fat part is extroversion and the skinny, bitter core is introverted. So I have a journal and I've been thinking of punching five holes through all the pages and putting a padlock through it. There are really touchy things in my journal. When I say touchy, I don't mean my dirt. It would be the things you wish you didn't know about me and my history. They're extremely tragic.

So where else could you spill those except in a journal.

3. For fortune-telling. It is a common phrase that looking at the past is a way to see the future. That is true for journaling. A rough example would be you writing "I will jump off a cliff. " If you read that again after a week or so, the future is clear: broken ribs or death. You get what I'm saying?

Of course, it is more complex than that. It's one of those abstract things you really can't explain (and only you and your journal can understand).

4. It's cheaper than golf. My notebook is about a dollar and my pens are even more expensive than all the notebooks I've used combined. We all need a way to get by down times and journaling is the best way to go. It's cheap. There are getting fewer and fewer hobbies that are affordable. Go buy a notebook; start now!

5. A lot of great people have done it. I'm not talking about Mein Kampf. Uhm. Excuse me. Anne Frank? The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath? The list goes on and on. It's like a more intimate autobiography because the people are not conscious of publishing the journal. They're not putting up a front, but they vomit they're brains for everyone to see (bad image).

6. Improve your handwriting. I've never been modest about my good handwriting. My script looks like late 1900s and I'm proud of it because I've been practicing it for about 3 years until now. EVERYONE NEEDS GOOD PENMANSHIP TO BE REMEMBERED! Or it's just my social anxiety speaking.

That's it. Also, I'm worrying that I'm in a good mood now but I suddenly turn into a demon baby when I arrive in Manila tomorrow.

Bye!

Admittedly unsuccessful coverage of the elections 2013

It was evident that every journalist feasted over the excitement of the elections. As an overly enthusiastic start-up freelance journalist, I remained at home watching episodes of Gossip Girl.

Of course, I would proceed to a string of reasons. Which I will do even though I originally intended not to. Sigh.

A. My parents are involved in local politics. While they have (thankfully) stopped running after positions, they have friends in the circuit. I've overheard a lot of issues, my cowardice is still overpowering.

Yes, I've had my taste of compromising situations but the elections made me feel like I was tiptoeing against landmines.

B. The place I was assigned to wasn't very friendly. I don't mean in a "let's be acquaintances!" way. I mean it in a "(on the phone)men are outside your gate and another group is scouting the area. Lock the doors." way. 

That was an actual conversation.

C. Last but not the least, I would like to say I've appeared on CNN TV International already. My father was being interviewed and I got into the frame by strategically positioning myself.

The night before, a man went wild with his gun after doses of whatever compound outside our gates. While I distinctly remember the whole family crawling to the half-buried concrete room in the house, it was the passengers of a passing van that were unlucky.

I really can't remember the number of people killed but some of them were foreigner that is why international news outlets were interested.

Anyhow, the whole point is that I missed a very important part of national history which is cardinal sin for a reporter.

Yes, I ended up being in the municipal hall that night taking pictures of the election machines being brought in. Yes, I was there when cars owned by the politicians raced back and forth. Yes, I trailed a convoy of army and police trucks (to no avail, they were on rotations). 

I couldn't blame the zero election-related violence reported by the police by press time. My mantra is this:

When there is no news, I'm looking at the wrong direction.

And because this blog post is like an exhaust vent (I'm using a vehicle metaphor as opposed to an obscene human one), I am hoping that these problems don't block me the next time.

Into Freelance Journalism

This blog is a pet to me so I'm giving it a picture of an elephant which it will enjoy:

Hello!

So from working in The News Today Libre, I've shifted into freelancing. I will still be working for the paper (hopefully) but I have already signed a contract with another local daily Panay News as a freelance journalist.

Set aside the sad pay for generally all the journalists, I'm liking everything so far.

Being a freelance journalist means I can submit stories or not and I live without a quota. However, I will try to submit stories daily because stopping can mean going downhill.

And the first thing a freelance journalist needs is an online portfolio. Check out mine at http://leoagustinlutero.blogspot.com.

SOMETHING UNPROFESSIONAL

I signed the contract without notifying my first publication which is The News Today Libre. Although we have no contract or legal bind, I should have informed them that I will be freelancing full-time although that has been my role for them so far. Bad move.

INTO VIDEO

Although my equipment is in a very sad state, I will start shooting video. What I have so far is a non-HD 3CCD camera (compact), an external microphone recorder with line-in, a lavalier mic, a tripod, a number of miniDV tapes which are generally cheap, and a Firewire cable (I use a Mac).

Obviously, I'm trying to make my equipment sound awesome because I need all the inspiration I can get.

On making a short documentary

I would want a discussion on this rather than transient reading.

I'm planning to undertake making a short video documentary. My editor has given me a story which I can follow through. But I might be too confident for the project because right now I feel ready. Here are the reasons why:

1. I have reached the minimum equipment requirements. 

I have a small 3 CCD camera that records to DV (not HDV) which still works although is definitely a dying format.
I have a Firewire cable and the camera works great with Final Cut Pro.
I have a point and shoot for emergency videos. It can shoot HD.
No tripod.

I have a voice recorder with an omni-directional microphone.
I don't have a boom mic but I intend to avail of one soon.

2. I have a story.

Before you scream poverty porn, it is more than what it seems.

An illegal settlers community nicknamed itself as "waterworld" because their houses stay above water through bamboo poles. The lead is even though they are illegal settlers, a certain group is still able to charge them some sort of "rental fee" which is of course, illegal. I don't really know enough details and I intend to do preliminary research but the story is from a first-hand source. I think I can get something juicy out of that (<- Is this sensationalism?)

3. I have experience.

Sure I haven't been in the news business for at least half a year but I am loving every part of it and I've been able to get sources that other papers in my area did not have. I enjoy the investigation part, doing things under pressure, constant haggling ("give me 10 more minutes I'll give more info! Please!") and unique first-hand experience. My experience with video production goes way back and I've been a self-proclaimed colorist for a while already so I'm familiar with the NLE and the process and the shooting.



After letting all this out, I realized that the only reason I'm putting this out there is because I'm sh*t scared. What if I don't finish making it? What if I get tired of it? What if I lack too many shots? What if my angle is just bad? What if I just can't?

Staying afloat in journalism

I was able to go to the closing ceremonies of Manggahan Festival 2013.

It made me realize how territorial I am that I've never been to the island even though it's extremely close to my place. I've been there once, I admit but it was with friends and it was booze-less. It was like a sleepover where you often just ignore where you are.

The awkward video has some explanation. 

I am taking working at a newspaper seriously but by virtue of the ultimate truth posted on the internets, I got scared because newspapers are apparently disappearing and the only way for a journalist to survive is to learn other crafts. I know some Final Cut Pro and some Sony Vegas and some Adobe Premiere after a long stretch of being a Wannabe Kurosawa. I'm over that phase now but some of the skills remain.

The narration is shits because I stutter when I'm in awkward positions and I've learned my English from reading books so I admit failing at speech. But what the hell! I've talked to people I don't know just to get a story and I have been hanged-up on a number of times for asking too much questions. I'm not going to back down now.

But internet be kind.

Try not to be emotional

So I've been working for a local newspaper  and it has been fun. Fun is actually referring to the busy-ness (not business, definitely) I get out of it and not the work itself.

For you to effectively know what I mean, here is a story.

Yesterday I was in a very public place but I still had my digital camera, mobile phone, voice recorder and all the essential things I call my journalism toolkit. My phone rang – an unknown number. When I said hi, a sad voice answered. I knew who it was.

A day earlier, I went to the OWWA (search it) regional office and talked about the death of an OFW from my locale in Abu Dhabi allegedly due to abuse from employer. 

I had on the phone the sister of a victim.

Do you know how it feels to have a loved one die on the other side of the world? Me neither. I was sweating, I was stuttering. Talking to someone who knows sadness that I have never even imagined is just so harrowing. You feel so insensitive and incapable. 

The woman on the phone was nice and accommodating. I have earlier introduced myself as a journalist based in their home city and I told her that a lot of the fellow Ilonggos of the victim are curious as to what will happen with the investigations.

She talked to me, answered my questions. She was brave. And then she told me they will fight and seek justice for the departed family member.

When the phone died, I did too.

As a journalist, you have to write a fact-ridden piece for hard news. For a long while, I didn't know why someone would have to read facts and create their own judgements. For a long while, I thought everyone should react the same way.

This world is a cruel thing to think about.

Makabayan coalation picket outside Comelec 6 (UPDATE)

A group of Makabayan party-list coalition grounded the street affronting Comelec regional offices in Iloilo City.

(Grab your copy of the News Today Libre now! And yes the paper is for free!)

Iloilo City – Members of the Makabayan Party Coalition picket the Comelec regional office after the verdict of the supreme court case filed against its members was scheduled to be released yesterday.

PISTON (Pinagkaisang Samahan ng mga Tsuper at Operator Nationwide),and Kabataan, a youth-led party-list, are both in danger of disqualification over postering offenses.

The nationwide picket was organized by Makabayan groups across the nation as a protest over the unfair treatment of progressive groups.

According to the Makabayan website, PISTON tallied a single postering offense while Kabataan had 7. Satur Ocampo, Makabayan president, observes that pro-administration party-lists like Akbayan with 9 postering violations are left alone.

“The Comelec and Chairman Brillantes should not allow themselves to be used by the administration to harass and suppress the true voices of the marginalized in our society.”, Ocampo added.

Charmane Chin, regional spokesperson of Kabataan party-list, together with other members of the Makabayan party-list coalition, stood outside the Comelec 6 office along Washington St. waving banners that spelled “Comelec, Tuta ni PNOY” and “No To Yellow Comelec.”

“We took off the posters and we wrote a letter and submitted evidence however the Comelec pursued their disqualification case. The sad thing is we are not even part of the top violator list.” Chin said.

According to Chin, “Risa Hontiveros has 9 postering violation but the Comelec takes her case lightly because she is backed by the Malacañang.”

“They want progressive party-lists to have less seats. This is a clear use of the power of Aquino over the Comelec. In the disqualifications of PISTON and Kabataan comes less opposition for his administration. We are attacked because we make the most noise over national issues”, Chin concluded.

Atty. Renato Magbutay, election officer for the region, said all proceedings for the case "are high up" in the en banc court and regional directors aren't in on the problem.

Miss Dinagyang 2013 Victoria Oke: a conversation on empowerment, spirituality and excelling

  (Article first appeared on the April 10, 2013 (Wednesday) Issue of the Iloilo's The News Today Libre. )

Emily Victoria Oke, Miss Dinagyang 2013, sends me a worried message wondering why I’m running late for her interview. She explains humbly why she needs to finish on time. I couldn’t blame her. She is leaving early the next day for Manila to prepare for the Miss Aliwan 2013 pageant where she will be representing Iloilo and the Dinagyang Festival. When I finally see her in the airy exterior of a café in Plazuela, she didn’t look worried at all. In her pink dress, she looked dazzling. We haven’t seen each other for only a few months but I could already feel how much she has grown.

I’ve known Victoria for about ten years now. We were classmates in elementary and I would always see her rise above the rest. Apart from inborn intelligence, it was her diligence that set her apart. When we review together for quiz bees, it was her own desire to learn more that showed clearly, earning the respect and admiration of our teachers.

I tell Victoria that if she is more comfortable, she can speak in Hiligaynon for the interview but she immediately denies the offer. She would rather speak in English saying it will help her prepare for her upcoming pageant. I knew she was serious about getting ready for the event. This is something everyone should know about her: she takes every opportunity to prepare herself.

Curiously, I ask when she began to get interested in pageants. “I don’t really know when I decided to join pageants but I remember when I was a little girl, my brother joined a couple of man searches too. It was seeing a group of women parade with him on stage, seeing them so empowered that made me want to join pageants myself. We all know that before, women are regarded as second-class citizens. The pageants give women an opportunity to be seen as strong and powerful.”

Victoria is thankful that the Dinagyang Festival where she won her crown is just two months early of the Aliwan Festival. “The lessons I have learned are still fresh in me but I continue to prepare especially reading to expand my vocabulary in order to be ready for the competition.”

Victoria strikes a friendly pose after our interview.

Although Victoria doesn’t deny that stereotyping is still eminent in local pageants where the “lighter” candidates are commonly favored, she is sure that pageants are not just for what lies on the outside. “You always want people to say, ‘Oh she has an advocacy, she has substance, she is an empowered woman.’” Her coach Mr. Joury would always tell her that pageants are battlefields; “I must come in full gear to remember that every move is an opportunity for criticism.” Instead of fear, she uses this as reason to work harder.

Her biggest inspiration is her kind. It is, according to her, a responsibility to inspire other women. “I look up to Tyra Banks because she advocates empowering girls and women”. Her main goal is “women empowerment, for women to know their potentials and God’s perfect plan for them”. A modern woman for her is strong, and present achievements by women inspire her. “I would like for women to gain a common ground, a strong web of support, and the complete abolishment of discrimination.”

“God is the center of my universe. I am proud of this trait of mine where I raise all my victories to God.” She reads the Bible, and that’s why she knows that God loves her and she wants people to see her as a testimony of His love. When we were children, she would proudly declare how her mother kept a lock of her hair in the pages of the Bible. Superstition or otherwise, Victoria turned out to be as smart as she is faithful.

When I asked her how a pageant candidate can represent Iloilo, she confidently answered that Iloilo is her home and Iloilo is where she comes from. “Iloilo is my home, is my heritage and it is who I am.”  She also cites the importance of culture in progress. “Our culture plays a big part in our decisions.”

Unavoidably, the interview returns to a friendly chat and she laughs saying, “This is good. I get to practice my interview skills!” I oblige by asking her what questions she thinks they might ask in Aliwan and she volunteers current events. I ask her about the upcoming elections.

She voices her opinion well. “Any amount is far too less for selling the future.” Her zooming in on vote-buying lets me know that she relies on what is ahead. “Our future shouldn’t be for sale”; she values forward-thinking. When I asked her about the tensions in the two Koreas, she replied with a distilled opinion: “War is still war”.

Checking my time, I see I’ve been pushing my luck but she is calm.  “I am looking forward to Manila. I will be wearing designs by Miss Dinagyang 2013 Board Chairperson Alex Soncio. Mr. Soncio, my make-up artist Benjie Sevilla and handler Alberto Barros formed a team to help me handle the Aliwan Festival pageant. I hope for the best and I am confident that my team will do a great job seeing me through.”

A lot of people I have met have been talking about prospects of Binibining Pilipinas for her but Victoria replies “I will consider it in 2 or 3 years time. I want to see first if I have a fight in the prestigious competition and I will give myself some time to mature more.”

She leaves a message for the Ilonggo people:

“Thank you for your support. I’ve been receiving a lot of encouragement through SMS and messages on my Facebook. I have one more request, please offer prayers for me as I represent you in Aliwan. I’m happy that many people are proud of me and expect me to do my best because I do know that you deserve to shine in the national arena.”

I wanted to ask her if she was ready for the pageant but I saw her again, rising from her seat and asking me if we’re ready for the photos. She stands tall, commands power and respect. Her beauty isn’t like the ones you see everyday, it was the kind that allowed her wit to shine through. I knew she has always been ready. I take a few pictures and she tells me the laundry list of things she has to do before the first flight she has to catch the next day. I say goodbye and give a hug.

Victoria is the youngest of three, her mother is Filipina while her dad comes from Nigeria. When her father passed away in his home country late last year, Victoria told me that it wasn’t sadness that overcame her but contentment. Her dad loves her a lot, his health was in a decline and the passing didn’t take her by surprise. A part of her was happy that her dad was already with the Creator. Victoria’s faith is strong and she is as strong. Aside from great strength, she also has poise, beauty, intelligence, and wholesome confidence that never fail to rise above the rest.*

Boracay is still the best place to be with friends

For the trip that lasted over 4 days I was able to take about 20 pictures and most of them from the way to Boracay Island. I take a stupid amount of photos and they are the worst.

For the last few days of March, I went to Boracay with three friends from school. I don't even remember how many nights we stayed on the island because it was so fun with most of the nights I was walking around on the shore, half-unconscious from binging on kidney preservatives.

Why Boracay is the best place for barkadas:

1. It has alcohol. While nature purists might consider this stupidity, the whole island is basically one long bar counter. There is an unlimited supply of alcohol for what seems to be a segregated island and my friends are all literature majors so we like drinks. We talk about philosophy, the nature of literary history, our favorite writers and the concept of reality. However, unlike them, I gravitate more towards electronic music, dancing with strangers and making friends. After a deeply intelligent conversation, I reward myself by giving in to my animal instincts of awkward flailing around of limbs. 

My friend's dad brought along a boat and that was pretty cool.

2. It's built to be an illusion. We all believed that we were carefree and we can do whatever we wanted against the background of a wonderful blue shore, immaculate sand and the glorious sun. The foreigners with their strong features served as a bonus and we all knew we could do whatever we want. From eating cheap fried chicken to staying in the hotel room feasting on Coke and rhum on midday, it was alright. The illusion is plain and simple: nature is there to provide, our only responsibility was to do whatever we want.

Look at my photography skills! I don't even know what the point of this photo is!

3. If it's not family friendly, it's for barkadas. That must be a rule-of-thumb. When I say not family friendly, it is because I have seen adorable Asian babies get lost in the nocturnal crowd, half of which are drunk and noisy, and I didn't like it. Boracay might be for the kids in the morning but they must be kept during the dark until they turn 18 (or 13, you decide). I've been to Boracay a number of times, half of which with parents and the morning swims were all I could do. I missed more than half of the island experience for sure.

4. It's somehow safe. Although I have to share that on the first night I had to help a Swedish girl home because she was hammered (The next day she told me she was roofied when someone handed her a bottle of beer), Boracay is safe especially when you are around friends. I don't know if I was lucky enough to land on the kinder part of the island but everyone was so welcoming especially beginning midnight. During our last morning in Boracay, a drunk guy who sang so well offered to make scrambled eggs for me and my friends. It was, borrowing his almost unintelligeble words, "the best  *^#(&@ scrambled eggs  in the world".

Boracay is a good island and yes, during car rides with my parents, I stare up the sun and dream of backpacking alone to the island. But like all dreams they end. Boracay is worth it and it is at its best with good friends. You really do emerge as better friends once you get off the island (cheesy, definitely outside of the island vibe). Bye.

+++++

Reason for not posting recently: working at a local newspaper trying to be professional and everything. Yay!

Kurt Vonnegut: This Looks Like Inspiration

Kurt Vonnegut's letter describing his routine:

Dearest Jane, 

In an unmoored life like mine, sleep and hunger and work arrange themselves to suit themselves, without consulting me. I’m just as glad they haven’t consulted me about the tiresome details. What they have worked out is this: I awake at 5:30, work until 8:00, eat breakfast at home, work until 10:00, walk a few blocks into town, do errands, go to the nearby municipal swimming pool, which I have all to myself, and swim for half an hour, return home at 11:45, read the mail, eat lunch at noon...

 Continue reading at Brain Pickings

While I do not blame Kurt Vonnegut for creating a wonderful book such as Slaughterhouse-five which prevented from having enough time to study a few weeks before the battery of final exams, I think it is not proper that I come across his neatly packed life this time.

I have to pack my things for Boracay with my blockmates then summer in Iloilo City and I haven't even begun cleaning my dorm room. Even sadder is that I still have several pages of papers to write and submit before the end of the week. I hope you can swallow some nanotechnological tablet that induces pain whenever you procrastinate. The problem is I can adjust well to pain... on to searching for other methods. (And yes, I have tried to listen to those looping audio tapes that command you to focus. They don't work on me.)

How to not concentrate: a look-see on my distractions

So the finals week are coming up and I am surrounded by ideal students who willingly bury themselves in school work while I rebelliously (in its most uncool sense) try to defy common sense by keeping myself busy with irrelevant things. I am making this list not as a guide to distracting myself but rather as a list of things one should avoid. There is also a part of me that is hopeful that when I finally get to write the list down, I'll be able to control the temptations. 

1. World's Strictest Parents

Story is easy to catch: a pair of spoiled English teenagers are sent around the world to strict parents for a week. While a comment suggesting they change the title to the World's Saddest Teenagers sums up what I feel about the show, I can't stop watching the full episodes available on YouTube. It is probably a little pull-me-up from my instinctive attacks towards my own self-esteem but it is becoming a bad habit quickly.

2. Gossip Girl

I am not denying I've been trying to absorb fine art in my life as a way to cope. The Chloe Sevigny parody videos have been for a while a source of culture. I've been reading poetry and scrutinizing wonderful paintings but I still think that Gossip Girl is the best show on earth. You can stone me to death but GG has been a guilty pleasure since high school. Apart from the sentimental qualities of the show, it is still a wonderful thing to know that some teens are living action-packed lives and not the sleepwalking I am doing all the time.

3. Sewing/Embroidery

Valentine Haute Couture Fall 2013

I can't deny that I have been in love with fashion for a long time. It is probably because no matter what kind of person wears the clothes, it is still very easy to tell which designer made which. And the clothes are so well-made that I will faint just touching them. I know that making clothes is an extremely challenging thing, I think I can learn and start making clothes myself.

But it is definitely NOT the right time to start this hobby.

This list is not even complete. Also, I'm so excited for the papal conclave. 

I am currently not a practicing Catholic although I was born one and I intend to come back to the Church when I realize I can actually commit to it for life. However, the Roman Catholic church is most wonderful in its traditions and the conclave is so mysterious and secretive it is almost unreal! Remembering that it is basically the choosing of the most important man in the largest religion in the whole world is just so surreal! Plus, the oath of secrecy keeps everything a secret. What if the Holy Spirit actually lands in the room? Or the top scientists from CERN? The possibilities are endless!

KTHNXBYE! I'll try to study now.

I want to be a journalist

When I shifted into AB Literature (English), all I had was an appreciation of literature and art and an itching interest in theories and products of critical thinking. However, it has always been a personal practice to have something practical in hand. Literature is highly theoretical, dealing with relationships often existent only in consciousness. I can’t handle living on that alone especially the nightmares of living as a hobo with no apparent real-world function. (Yes, pop culture created a laughing stock out of  an art major's futures) Years in the sciences has always fostered in me a hunger for something more material.

A sticker from a passenger tricycle along Katipunan Ave, Q.C.

I chose journalism. It was a decision not founded upon flipping a coin. In fact, I’ve always wanted to be a journalist. I had a rather (insignificant) fun stint when I was in high school when I wrote for a regional daily. I wrote about personal interests but it did not last long. But, this summer, it has been arranged that I will be working for the same press as an intern as a journalist-in-training. Score!

I’ve been wondering why I’d like to go to journalism. It’s like when you taste chocolate and you want more but you don’t understand why. Under scrutiny, you will realize it is the paradoxical quality of bitterness and tastiness that keeps you above your weight goals. For journalism, it is being able to relay human experience through words. Often, when you read a news article, you are bombarded with information as if you are expected to simulate it around a reader's environment. Maybe it is just my own sentimentality but I think being able to relay reality through words is a wonderful thing. Of course, “reality” here is always in question but to transmit emotions, no matter the “truthfulness”, is just great. (I am not saying that news is just realist fiction, I just acknowledge that forces skew it, and I believe that it is these forces that gives them the human quality.)

Of course, I am not an expert but you can quote me at your own risk. If you check my Kindle, I have style books and handbooks on journalism. I’m reading about it and I’m very interested so far. You can’t imagine the joy I experienced when I discovered you can create folders on the bookmarks bar of a browser. I have a whole folder for links to online newspapers.

Amazon Kindle - Setting paper on fire

I was never a technophobe, in fact, I had the opposite “phase” in high school which peaked when a network administrator confronted me regarding irregularities in the network structure of the school. Apparently, I was a suspect and I wasn’t entirely innocent. However, when the e-readers came around, I was extremely skeptical. I only got a Kindle recently and let me tell you exactly how terrifying the “migration” is for someone belonging to this liminal generation.

I’ve always been comfortable reading physical books. Even though our elementary library was very selective and utopian (it would condemn anything with an expletive), it was easy for me find a shelf I really liked. It was a good thrill waiting for the next installment of The Magic Tree House book to be returned by a fellow reader. The library I was subscribed to then decided it only gets one copy of each installment and it was always a race; the winner was awarded the top cell on the borrower’s card housed in a pocket at the back of the book.

Physical books, apart from the written material in them, is an object. It was something that existed in a specific place at a specific point in time. Tangible and highly limited, only one kid can read it  at a time.

I decided to get my Kindle because I am almost sure that I am a classical reader. The Project Gutenberg website that houses free digitized versions of relatively older (but genius) books is paradise for me. The Kindle isn’t the first time I’m reading digital. I have used my Macbook and my iPod to read whole books I couldn’t find in libraries or stores.

The first book I’ve read on the Kindle is Mary Shelley’s brilliant novel “Frankenstein”. It is highly thought-provoking, forcing me to consider the importance and the dynamics of the relationships between the created and the creator. The Kindle was an entirely different experience from reading off a laptop or a music device. Apart from the paper-like screen (e-Ink, Pearl, whatever its name), it was a device supposed to replace books. I can’t acknowledge the notion that it is made to be used as a supplementary with the book. It is a proud device! It is light, can store a crazy amount of books, and reads like a book (except for the seizure-trigger every flip of a page)!

The Kindle is brilliant. It was easy to read using it, it is conducive to the development of bad habits such reading while walking because it is very convenient to lag around. The weight and the size is divine. I personally think that everyone who loves literature must get a Kindle. It is a cheaper, more earth-friendly way of devouring the classics. However, it does not provide the threat of a paper cut, a feeling that adds a thrill to the book.

The Kindle does not set fire to the paper, rather it heats up an argument in my head.

Of course, there is that purist, highly conservative part of me that dismisses the digital as a destruction of the production of good books. Digital production is way cheaper than printing. You just convert a file into an e-book and boom, you have a “book”. This wasn’t the case when Dickens emerged. A physical book can’t be (easily) duplicated. The copy-paste is probably the murder of the library. Yes, there are online systems that allow only one person to access a book at a time but the physical existence of a library is lost. Again, a murder!

There is also the practical (or lazy) side which chooses convenience. The Kindle allows obtaining of free e-books. New titles are on illicit sources I do not suggest but it is possible to get new books for free. Apart from being selfish, literature becomes a public domain. The internet becomes EDSA where people just have to look up to read Austen, Shelley, Camus, Freud, etc!

Of the millions of people transferring into e-books from books, please do not do so blindly. Reading is a wonderful thing; change however, is dubious. 

Dropping that Medical Dream: Half Courage, Half Conscience

It would be futile to write about my year and create a summary to compress my 2012. Honestly, I am personally unable to remember most of what is supposedly shareable that happened to me last year and I do not find it ideal to welcome the new year by recounting whatever the lapses of my memory have missed.

I have decided to share something I personally find as earth-shaking, monumental, deracinating, and brave to celebrate a new year.

From a restaurant I ate at with good friends. They closed after a while though but the place was a beauty.

I shifted out of premed.

I have been a science junkie since elementary when a psychological test confirmed the disillusionment of my childhood: I am scientifically inclined and gifted, at least to a certain extent. Apart from tearing my head apart grasping the concept of multiplication that decreases (when multiplying a whole number by a fraction<1), I underwent separate training in the mathematics and sciences for competitions. It was later agreed that going on to a specialized (and exclusive) science high school was the best for my future.

Come high school, I was intent on failing every subject. It was a struggle that I always was convinced will never be worth it. A foreshadowing maybe. When my grades did climb, it was because I was enjoying introductory mechanics in physics, the kind of enthusiasm good enough to overflow towards other “lesser” courses. Lost in it all, I decided I wanted to become a doctor.

Everyone I knew, or my closest friends at least, all wanted to become medical doctors. My parents and even the extended family joined the chorus. "Be a doctor! Be a doctor!". The cooing dug a hole I immediately fell in.

Getting into a premed courses in all the schools I applied to, I was convinced that it was meant to be. I even bought my own stethoscope a few months before with the excuse it was required for a co-curricular activity. Finally, I was done with high school, proudly waving a less-than-average report card.

As if just an extension of the four years in high school, college became a torment. 

I believed the hell would be over once I step into a university, pursuing a concentration of my own choosing. I was wrong. I chose premed and I wasn't enjoying myself. In fact, I would rather bury myself in dusty piles of books about Sylvia Plath, a poet who has always fascinated me since high school, than go to class. I spent sleepless nights of allergen-triggered asthma mustering over details of her life, definitely irrelevant to whatever battery of tests my premed degree deemed necessary. In times of trouble where there seems no escape, I transport into a different existence mumbling “Marble-heavy, a bag full of God” as if the beautiful feeling of the phrase rolling off the tongue is the taste of salvation.

Of course, my grades turned out to be very nauseating, even for my desensitized self.

Partly because I couldn't imagine myself ending my career in the academe with a tragic report card, and largely because I was sure that I couldn't be a doctor, and couldn't stand anymore the rigidity of science (the ultimate desire for a certain truth), I decided to shift out.

I was prepared if I sensed defeat or disappointment from my parents. Who wouldn't parade a doctor son? And strangely, it is so easy for me to imagine the emotions of having a son who grew up playing doctor suddenly deciding to become a hobo.

I did not exactly decide to be a hobo but it is a common joke around my new classmates here in the university. A career in English literature, although undeniably hopeful, is currently a financial desert. My materialistic tendencies were also one of the strongest weights that kept me in premed.

Although now, with a wonderful professor who guides me into getting lost in T. S. Eliot’s words, introduces me to Milan Kundera, keeps me safe from Madame Bovary’s seduction, and challenging me with the densest sentences I have ever seen, I couldn’t be any happier. I have this belief that in my struggles defining what I really want from all the external forces, I acquired early onset identity crisis. I had a hard time pointing out where I was in life but now, as a literature major learning an average of five new words a day, I seem more optimistic and it’s not just because of the bliss that baptizes every good decision.

There is one certain thing that I learned from this whole mess I have created (which I kind of cleaned up afterwards): discernment is not easy for everyone.

Unfortunately, I think I’m one of the tougher cases. The world is so full of external pressures that it becomes hard to define where yourself ends and other people begin but it is possible and it all begins with a boldness, a certain courage to look in the mirror and dig deep (eek! sentimental!). Of course, there is also conscience. I think there is genetic precedence in our desire to protect ourselves. I was shredding myself through something that I knew wasn’t really for me, it was destroying me instead of sharpening the mass inside my head. If all of these are false, there is one thing in me that made me jump out of my hole: conscience.