left-handed wanders

Just came home from the "Wanted" premiere at Gateway.

Seeing Angelina Jolie wield a kick-ass gun again was very refreshing. She was born to play this kind of role, as in.

How was the movie? well it’s a blockbuster. so it’s BIG in almost everything. Highly entertaining, in a I-really-wish-I-could-curve-a-bullet kind of way.

My sister said that the script was kinda cheezy at some parts–well yeah. and that some of the scenes were just way too fantastic (but they were cool nonetheless)…but I’ll let it slide because

Wanted, the film sends out a message:

Take control of your life.

It was a bit too "out" there especially the last line at the end (it could’ve been subtler). But heyyy I like the message.

Cause like Wesley Gibson, I felt like that at some point, that "robot" feeling, the repetitiveness, the fading-away-into-oblivion-feeling, bored-shitless-bagboy on a supermarket mien…I don’t know maybe I still am. But I believe its just a phase, it must be a phase, you know, it just has to be.

I totally get it. I understand how it is to be (just) waiting for something to happen.

And while watching the film a part of me wished for an Angelina Jolie to tell me that I am somebody totally not myself.That I am destined for bigger things. But the thing is that’s not how it works (I know, duh) but the film allowed me to escape in unreality…see jedi curve that bullet. So I guess that’s why I liked the film.

So I’ll try to do that.

I’ll load my gun, then shoot.

load it again, then shoot.

load it again, then shoot.

Till I hit something.

I woke up with a fever and a sore throat. Immediately I thought of calling in sick—texting rather. It was automatic, I didn’t have any doubts. There was no way I’m getting on that train to work; I might pass out on the musty elevator.

Graduating made me feel free in a way. If we can ever call ourselves free. I never thought of missing a class due to illness—ever. A red mark on my attendance, an exclusion from an incentive and missing an important lecture just simply wouldn’t do. Screw typhoid fever if I have a paper due.

But during that time I woke up, I wasn’t in school anymore. Yes I was still part of a system, but what is the actual engdame?

1. Salary deduction.

2. Bad Employment record

3. Derailment of a consistent career path

I don’t know. I felt that I wasn’t risking anything really, even if the said tonsilitis was the reason for my two-week absence. I was really bedridden for a few days, so the reason for the preliminary no-shows was physical—the rest was mental.

***

I had plans. But client wants the damn thing tomorrow—stay late, stay late. Finish it. I’m not allergic to clients, I love them they give me money. I can bear the exasperating ones, the stupid ones, all the “ones” but I find sacrificing my time to a pointless cause just—sick.

Final Artist: “Oh ano, hindi ka pa uuwi noh? Kailangan mo pang hintayin i-mock up yung shopping bag.

Me: “Wala eh, dami pa nakapila.”

Final Artist: Ahh.

Me: Kawawa ka naman nilalagnat ka na pumasok ka parin. OT pa.

Final Artist: Kailangan eh.

Me: Buti hindi ka pa nababadtrip. Kung ako yan’ badtrip nako. Kasi Nakakainis talaga.

I sat in front of the computer. I wasn’t aware na “hindi na maipinta” ang mukha ko. The Senior AD noticed, apparently, he also overheard the conversation.

Then he told me:

Pissed off ka ba?

Na-pipiss off ka ba?

“Kung ganyan ka lang. Aba eh pag-isipan mo ng mabuti kung tatagal ka ba dito. (He continues clearly angry) Dahil wala pa sa kalingkingan yang dinadanas mo. Ni wala pa sa butil.”

Oops.

I didn’t know what to say for a couple of seconds.

Then my mind reeled. “Wala sa kalingkingan…Wala sa butil” those wear the words that stuck in my head. I held my tongue.

“Wala sa kalingkingan…Wala sa butil” Is he actually saying that it is hard? What is hard? Sitting on your ass all day, clicking away with your fingers??? Having lunch meetings in fancy restaurants? Brainstorming with free flowing food on an airconditioned conference room The f*ckin asshole thinks his job is actually hard?

FYI dickhead.

It’s hard because you make it hard. Its hard cause you chose to stay in the business. And let me guess why, because it pays well? Well stick that f*ckin wad of pesos up your ass. You earn more than what millions of Filipinos get for a month: planting rice, teaching students, cleaning houses. And don’t you tell me selling a bottle of beer, a carbonated beverage, a miracle shampoo alleviates human suffering.

“Dahil wala pa sa kalingkingan yang dinadanas mo. Ni wala pa sa butil.”

Shut up.

Your suffering is well compensated for, or should I say overly compensated? It came with the contract Bitch, you sold your soul. Literally.

SO. YOU. DON’T. TELL. ME. HOW. IT. IS.

Ang pinakaayaw ko pa naman eh yung sinisindak ako. Tipong minamata ka eh hindi ka naman kilala. Tsong’ laki sa hirap ‘to, ako yung batang patay ang kuko sa paa dahil walang pambili ng bagong sapatos nung elementary. Eh ikaw? Eletista ka ata eh, leche ka ang daming nagugutom sa mundo pagbebenta ng mouthwash ang inaatupag mo.

***

I stayed home for two weeks, lying in bed left me to my thoughts. It’s incredibly enticing really, advertising’s USP (unique selling proposition): stay and you can retire at forty. But I just really couldn’t do it anymore. Yeah after four months, I’m even surprised it took me that long.

An officemate who was kind enough to show concern gave me an advice: to stay in the biz you really can’t fall in love with your work. The first time I heard it, I didn’t put any serious thought to it. So I was like, “yeah sure, I can do that” but I was wrong. Whatever I do it’s something I created. It is my opinion, it may look like crap to some but i don’t care. There wasn’t really any room for that in the biz.

When I got better a peculiar thing happened.
After days of acute tonsilitis a piece of *matter slid from my throat. I felt it with my tongue and was a bit astonished. I felt a firm mass with jelly-like consistency. I spat it in my palm out of curiosity, and I saw a flesh colored substance with tinges of white and green with streaks of blood.

I felt like Saul from the Holy Scriptures. Scales fell from his eyes—this thing slid down my throat.

In my joy I took it as a symbol. Was I given back my voice? My voice that was stiffled from the circle I’m in? Is God telling me to speak what’s on my mind?

I’d like to think so. I believe so.

When I came back to the office, it was for me to print my resignation letter.

To be concluded

________________________________________________

This is for my 1st yr anniversary in the work place June 25th my first, first day at work.

*A recent event, a month ago, a pebble-sized clump of earwax fell from my ear. Is the universe telling me something? Am I to expect something falling from my eyes soon?
Or do I just suffer from a less stringent sense of personal hygiene?

July is coming.

And that means UAAP season 71 opens!

This year’s oh so special since the University of the Philippines is hosting (on our Centennial Year). What can I say matagal-tagal na rin akong hindi nakakasigaw ng, "U-nibersidad ng Pilipinas!" and I miss it. There’s nothing like feeling that school spirit once those drums roll, especially on a big venue such as Araneta Coliseum. When I was in college it didn’t really matter that our basketball team lose (almost everytime). Just feeling the UP presence, that sense of belonging was enough for me, I had fond memories of the games I watched as an undergrad.

I’m sure the UP peeps will com full force that day, mostly kasi required sa PE hahaha! Pero shet I’ll attend as an alumni na–ang ibig sabihin lang nun ken afford na ako bumili ng Patron tickets wuhuuu!!!

Ayoko na mag-upper Box B! Gen Ad! NOOO!

From
what I’ve read and what I’ve heard, I share a common thread with music
lovers/Coldplay haters all over the world: "Viva La Vida" gave us a
slight change of heart.

Is it because of the nice Album cover w/ a touch of Delacroix?

nahhh

Slight in a sense that

"Viva la Vida" the song

IS AWESOME.

I
swear when I first heard it, I liked it instantly. Because how can you
get over that upbeat violin push? That awesome chorus, "for some reason I
can’t explain, I know St. Peter will call my name…" ? That
"bust-down-the-double-doors-feeling it gives?

I love it.

Finally Chris Martin doesn’t sound like someone’s grabbing his balls

or
he still sounds like someone’s grabbing his balls but with this song
his vocal stylings are perfect. It gives it a transcendent quality that
I can’t get over right now.

Here’s the iTunes Ad

I’ll learn the song, the funny arm movements, everything! and do it in our living room while we clean this weekend. Hahaha!

***
Coldplay
Viva La Vida

I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sweep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice
Feel the fear in my enemy’s eyes
Listen as the crowd would sing:
"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"

One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can’t explain
Once you go there was never, never an honest word
That was when I ruled the world

It was the wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors to let me in.
Shattered windows and the sound of drums
People couldn’t believe what I’d become

Revolutionaries wait
For my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh who would ever want to be king?

I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can’t explain
I know Saint Peter won’t call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world

ooooo ooooo ooooo oooooo ooooo
(repeat with chorus)

I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can’t explain
I know Saint Peter won’t call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world
Oooooh Oooooh Oooooh

So
for the past couple of weeks I was watching DVDs to eat my weekends. I
bought a couple of films set in Europe just to ease the pain* and a
couple more limited release-esque types.

* It seems everybody I know is going to France this quarter.

—> To get to the point of this post

I bought two movies having  Simon Pegg as a character.

So
I googled about him as soon as I was in front of the computer the next
day. As I’ve posted sometime ago I am HUGE Simon Pegg fan, so it was
interesting to read an article about adapting "SPACED" in America.

***

SPACED is a UK TV series created by Pegg and Jessica Hynes.
It ran for two seasons

SPACED
is AWESOME. The series wrapped before I even heard about it, but that
didn’t stop me from downloading it for almost a month.

SPACED
changed my life. I watched it during sembreak of my senior year, what
can I say, I was Tim Bisley till the end of the summer.
***

From
what I read Simon and Jessica didn’t like the idea of an American
version so they were vocal about not supporting it at all. Somehow I
was glad about their decision since Pegg and Hynes is SPACED itself.
Though the US version of The Office is really good (actually I think I
like it better than the Brit one) I’d go for the unmatchable chemistry
of the two lead actors. And that is something hard to mess with.

And the latest from the rumor mill is that the US version isn’t pushing through.

YEY!

I just hope that the rumored 3rd season materializes or the special 1hour episode.

The "Lie"maker

I had lunch with my officemates and boss yesterday at the school of
theology. And during the meal, I felt that food wasn’t the only thing
swallowed between mouthfuls.

It all started when Banana (a fellow UP grad) asked Sir Tofu about the proper use of “ng” and “nang” in the Filipino language.

***
Sir
Tofu, my boss, is a former professor at the Ateneo. He was part of the
Dept. of Filipino faculty and is also an Ateneo alumnus. Sir Tofu also
worked in the advertising industry (Ogilvy & Mather) as an Account
Executive and he spent some time at Ateneo Art Gallery—from what I know.

***

Sir
Tofu was pretty obliging in answering Bananas question, he gave
examples and even expounded on the nuances. After banana (“Ah ganun
pala. Lagi ko kasing nakakalimutan.) and I were enlightened—and I guess
Orange too, the topic shifted to Sir Tofu’s experience in teaching at
UP Baguio.

I felt I knew what anecdote Sir Tofu would tell because I heard it already when I was a probationary employee. And I was right.

The tale is of a delicate kind so I’ll try my best to be impartial about the whole thing.

In a nutshell:

When Sir T was teaching at UP Baguio he felt irritated with the pseudo-activist (from how he painted it) thread of UP students.

***
UP,
as you may know, is an institution often associated with a strong sense
of student activism especially during the Martial Law period of the 70s
and 80s under President Marcos.

***

Sir Tofu had a heated
discussion with a student about UP’s impending tuition fee increase.
The particular outburst, “Kung kailangang magbibit kami ng armas at
sandata para makamit ang pagbabago, gagawin namin!” Touched a nerve.

Well
the outburst even for me is a bit OA. But if it were of a genuine kind
I wouldn’t dare pass judgment. But in the way Sir T related other
stories about his students in UPB it became apparent how students there
embraced the concept of activism as a fad. Well it isn’t anything new.
There really are fakers but also there are genuine ones.
He went on
to criticize how his students in UPB didn’t like to be told what to do.
(Yikes, I think all UP students are guilty of this to some degree) How
his students fell silent each time he asks them what activism really is
etc…

Well, well, well.

There are a lot of factors to
consider in analyzing all the events he experienced so I’ll just work
on what I’ve gathered. If his students at UPB were really like that,
then I can say it was unfortunate that he wasn’t able to teach a better
bunch.

My only qualm about it is how he used his role as a
teacher. I expressed openly that his antagonistic approach would tick
any student in any classroom. Especially if he was being “Atenista” in
UP territory as some of his students said. I told him that he could’ve
used his position to “guide” the students in the right direction. Well
I don’t know the full story; maybe Sir Tofu tried but his students were
just really stubborn.

***
Sir Tofu’s side would be more
understandable if I pointed out that he isn’t a typical Atenista. He
isn’t rich. He was the type of student “ na nagsunog ng kilay” to
finish school (even literally, he told me how he did his assignments by
the light of a gas lamp when he was a student cause they didn’t have
electricity in the house). He got a scholarship for his efforts and got
in De la Salle Greenhills High School (another institution for the
affluent) and eventually Ateneo, presumably on scholarship as well.

So
I guess, his more of a UP student than an Atenista really. That is why
he takes ideals seriously—wait does that mean Atenistas aren’t like
that? Though this maybe a hasty generalization…I can’t help it.

***
So why did I decide to blog about this in the first place.
I know I shouldn’t even be talking about it cause it’s nothing really…

But
I can’t seem to get over the fact that Sir Tofu seems to generailize
the entire UP population. He seems like a triumphant news reporter
exposing UP students for what he presumes they really are:
pseudo-activists who don’t like to be told what to do. An article he
wrote for an Ateneo publication, which he showed me, confirmed this. I
mean, it maybe not his intention to generalize but the manner of his
communication betrayed it.

I’m all for people having an opinion, and don’t get me wrong he’s a good boss, but generalizing is simply unfair.

***

I went jogging this morning at the Ateneo grounds. Since school is starting this week what I saw made me

laugh.

I was pacing my steps along the University road and was approaching Xavier Hall, when Bellarmine field came to full view

i saw a fleet of SUVs / sedans / luxury cars one after the other

and it reminded me of this…

lets sing it!

Little boxes on the hillside, Little boxes made of tickytacky
Little boxes on the hillside, little boxes all the same
There’s a green one and a pink one and a blue one and a yellow one
And they’re all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses all went to the university
Where they were put in boxes and they came out all the same,
And there’s doctors and there’s lawyers, and business executives
And they’re all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.

Weeks seem like centuries / hours
seem like fortnights when I waited to discern the fate of my job
application. How continuous of fate to let my early morning office
trips feel the same. It is a most marvelous thing for 15-20 minute
ride. My MRT trips to Ayala sapped my energy no matter how great I felt
waking up—imagine if I didn’t.

The course of the train isn’t
complicated, unlike in London or Japan, there are no fancy rail
switches and exchange tunnels in Manila. The MRT travels an almost
straight line. Actually, it is like a conveyor belt floating upon EDSA,
moving chunks of flesh and sweat—human resources—a main artery
supplying the sorely valued citizens of the capital that supplies its
wealth, enjoyed and amassed by the few.

I thought of that each
morning on the way to work. I mean that or how I didn’t want to do the
work I am supposed to do that day, Monday or any other day. I was
really disappointed; I regarded the Ad industry as something anyone
would be crazy not to aspire to. As I examine fibers/events a year
ago—I ask myself what was I really expecting? Because, it still pays
better than any other freakin’ job in my line of work.

I guess it’s true when my boss told me, “Nananaginip ka pa ata.” (I think you’re still dreaming.)

Yes,
I had certain ideas of how I wanted it to be. My first trip to work,
the day that I was hired—I took a taxi. It was special I felt great, I
kissed my Mom and Dad I gave a big wave to my sisters as I left the
house; I stared outside the taxi’s window to see the tower’s height and
I walked cockily inside the enormous lobby. I felt that finally I was a
step a closer to a more comfortable life—the good life, the Pinoy
dream. All those years of studying hard has finally brought me to
this—landscaped gardens and immaculately paved roads driven on by
expensive cars; big Ivory towers one phallic symbol after another
pointing towards the heavens—big cock and bull buildings with dickheads
for workers! And I was one of them hahaha! I paid taxes, got SSS and
Pag-ibig membership. Heck! I even had life and health insurance.

Not to mention the killer job title—Jr. Art Director
With a stylish office address to match.

It
was something my parents never experienced when they were 21. And
thinking of that during those days made me feel that somehow I’ve
arrived. I thought of this on my train rides to work. The radiated musk
from all those bodies squeezed together encapsulated and regurgitated
by the train’s barely working cooling system gave me a high. I was on a
high when I thought of where I came from, on those train rides to work.
An expensive Christian School student shipped to public school in the
middle of elementary, off to an obscure high school with modest
dreams—ejected to a big University, where I learned to think BIG.

Maybe
when I got the job that was the problem, I was getting ahead of myself
BIG time. I appended too much of what I wanted/hoped/dreamed into a
single pretty job title.

I never realized that on my train rides to work.

To be concluded.