CHARITABLE INSTITUTION

PRELUDE

JUST READ one of my classmate’s text message about a couple having tuyo (super duper to the power of cup size of ruffa mae quinto salty dried fish) as their only viand for dinner.

Mrs: Ayan sa mesa. Mamili ka na lang [(viand's) on the table. just choose.]

Mr: Amp**** naman–eh tuyo lang naman andito, ah. Ano’ng pagpipilian? [wtf--it's just a guppy. Do I need to choose between a guppy and its ghost?]

Mrs: Hmp. Honey, ano’ng gusto mo–MEAL OR NO MEAL?? (Just put an allegory of Kris Aquino’s accent in Deal or No Deal)

Seizures.

I don’t know if the allegory or the pretentiously hideous-looking Kris Aquino that made this text message funny.

———————

SO-CALLED CHARITY

DURING OUR nostalgic highschool years, whenever the administration of our beloved Philippine Christian University Science High School – Dasmariñas (so much for bragging the prolonged name) thinks of a new capitalistic scheme of looting hundreds of bucks from us rich (ching!) students, we the katroopa-troops of Bibbo Hotbabes (kasali ako diyan) in cooperation with the Tropang ANiMé (ako rin kasali dito) and the (normal people dwell in this circle so I don’t belong here) predominantly dominating Pipz…

(notice that I really made sure you guys/readers/eavesdroppers/stalkers can NOT relate to what I was blabbing)

… made semi-yadda-yadda protests just to make sure our daily hundred peso allowance will not be wasted for Noodles, canned goods, sugar, coffee, Milo packs, gold-ticket-worth raffle tickets, more gold-ticket-worth raffle tickets, etc.

We simply agitate: “Gastos lang ‘yan!” for several hundreds of times inside various classes.

No wonder we’ve been tagged by the faculty of PCU-High as the ‘most subversive and aggressive batch of all’ in addition to the ‘only batch that has graduated with complete top 10 multi-awarded honored students (Storm signal no. 4 alert) . We argued with our Chemistry/Research teachers, lambaste pf’s, it is refers, and botter(butter)-beyter(batter)’s of our THE and MAPE wannabes, and the like. We’ve kicked out non-Bar passer teachers, disclosed teacher chismax detencies, and avoided lascivious reputations given to our previous and next batches who’ve had one plus of their alumni to have called storks in their imaginary chimneys. To think that they’ve finally said milk is very expensive.

We’re the most practical of all. We spend only a few bucks for winning pieces, group dynamics and contests, and interschool competitions.

But as backfired by the real ‘rich brattinellas’ of our campus, practicality means poverty.

…

Who cares? As long as we’re not stupid.

——————

I just have this usual introversial outputs; more of orienting/self-orienting that being affective. Not only that I tend to seldomly disclose information about myself, my lovelife, and the rest of myself to people technically surrounding me (lucky to have you blog readers because I have no plans of eyeballing ^_^ as if you’d want to), but with my ‘resources’ as well.

We’ve been taught by our parents to be ultimately exclusive when it comes to personal belongings. As long as it is personal, do not share it. As long as it will not be adequate for the most, mind not showing it off to people. It had a differing impact. I’ve become madamot. Not selfish. Just madamot. Selfishness is vague. A different story.

I reiterated to my recent close friends/classmates not to wonder too much about my being too exclusive with my personal stuff. Yes, I also share some of my perks and tools but with the food that would only fit me, the clothes that would only apt to me, the school supplies that should not lack for me… I tend to close my cabinet.

Writing about being madamot is not worth to be proud of.

I was not madamot before. Being too compassionate to others is what I’ve inherited from my mommy. But I’m through with it after all these abominable (haha) experiences for being too ‘kind’.

I tend to spend more.

I told my previous boardmates/pubmates that they will not ever ever see my groceries inside our kitchen cabinets anymore after all those months that they have consumed 90 percent of what were supposed to be mine. They turned aloof to me. Nevertheless, it’s fine with me. Now they know whom they were messing up with.

I always lose my tech/pinpoint pens, pencils, cd-rs, cd-rws, diskettes, flashdisks, erasers, in short office supplies because they know I have plenty of those. Now they have to think twice before they approach me with cute cat’s eyes.

A monster is what I have become.

—————–

Now, I have no adequate allowance for this week.

My mom has been too kind to our needy neighbors.

Believe it or not, she didn’t tell us that she has lent [insert big amount here] pesos to some of our neighbors because of some very important use, according to my apparently problematic mom.

I know the philosophy of being mutually equitable to them. Whenever we need something from them, because of this utang-na-loob coming from our ‘financial heritage’, they will be wholeheartedly forced to render us back the services we need–directly proportional to what we’ve offered.

I don’t want to sound so egoistically avaricious, but our monthly salary/remittances from our dad working abroad is supposed to be spent for our ‘personal needs’. Now because of ‘them’, whose personal needs are at stake?

I was just so saddened by the news that we’ve suddenly lost something because of the previous fact that we still have the money to spend for the remaining weeks for this month. Now, we’re crawling for alms. Alms for adobong manok, sinigang, tinola, nilagang baka in our weekly menu. (gormandizers…)

I’ve just sounded so practically practical. I’ve even mouthed words to my mom because of not telling it to us. Now, our broadband connection is temporarily disconnected. Now we are unsure if our neighbors still have the conscience to pay my mom back.

Today, our neighbor promised for the nth time that she’ll pay her debts. My mom will visit me here in Indang. Hope I’ll feel more comfortable tonight.

Ugh. I’m going back to Dasma and kill some asshole. Joke.

I dunno what I’m going to do next…

Hope I could blog more. I just have to cut my daily expenditures. Eerrgh.

Location: in a computer center beside an eatery where p’s and d’s meet, Indang, Cavite
Categories: Personalan

UN-FRIENDSTER – UPDATED

I still am thinking about my exposure trip post, so I just updated this one after being calmed by Nissin Cup noodles and masturbation watching “It Started with a Kiss” on YouTube. ^_^ Hehehe.

Well, out of the blue, I’ve deleted a significant number of so-called ‘friends’ in my Friendster account. As if I have a lot of these so-called ‘friends’ in my account where invitations made out of the blue, too. Retribution, I guess ^_^.

Just to make it clear, for those who’ve added me in their list (especially those who have known me personally), just check your account if my name is not in your list anymore. That explains unwell.

If you want to add me, search my whole name in Friendster. That is, if I have the freakin’ normal mind to do such. Just kidding myself.

I’m so happy that, even though ironic to its advocacy of socializing online, Friendster gave me the opportunity not to make friends with so-called friends for good. So much for bothering.

Ta ta!

————-

What does Friendster basically do?

Correct me if I’m wrong, intrapersonal communication.

1. It forces non-intelligible internet users to create a Yahoo account (most Friendsters use Yahoo, FYI) and never opens inboxes for life. Thank you for teaching them how to click a button on a website.

2. It basically acts as an online version of lost-and-found relatives, classmates, childhood friends, friends, enemies, parents, boyfriends, girlfriends, gay/tomboyfriends, aliens, wannabe celebrities, etc.

3. For good-looking people–a lot will click your pics. For non-good-looking people–you use pics of other people/celebrity/animal etc. You’ll be forced to paste your best photo. If not, you just post a pixelated pic so blemishes on your face will not be noticed.

4. Give-and-take Relationship. It forces Friendster users to create a testimonial so that your addressee will make a testimonial for you.

5. Lazy testimonials include copy-pasted quotes, text-based images, web-generated animated icons/images/

6. It will bombard you with zillions of senseless bulletin board posts which honestly are unreadable and unnoticeable. Worse, content will include Friendster will so-called shut their shitted website so need to chain this post whatever.

7. Friendster Blogs are pathetically stupid. Friendster bloggers are pathetically stupid, too. Pop-ups and ads everywhere, and no one reads it except your friends on your list. So much for the free blog which other blog hosts offer with full customization attached.

8. It will not make you laugh when the Joke for the Day popup blocks your screen.

9. It’ll spam your mail inbox as long as notification to mail is currently activated. That is, if you know how to use your email account.

10. Friendstermaniacs spend more or less 3 hours gazing at their own profile without doing anything. Customization is dreck.

11. Inggitan galore. Just for the sake of bragging you being the friendliest Friendster, you click on someone else’s profile-friendlist then add friends if you find their pic good-looking or familiar to you regardless of that so-called ‘friends’ familiarity of you. Thus, 5 hundred plus friends.

12. You’ll be pissed of if no one viewed your profile, made a testimonial for you in 48 years, etc while the person renting beside you is busy adding/deleting testimonials or confirming friend addition.

13. You’ll be frustrated if you haven’t logged in to your friendster account.

14. If you’re doing a project, you’ll open your Friendster account first before you start your research. Most of the time, 70 percent or more of your online usage will be wasted in Friendster.

15. You’ll be stupefied with stupid color combinations, icons, YouTube videos etc. as part of your non-creativity. And somehow you’ll be satisfied while other people are spitting at your profile looks’ ugliness and millions of downloadtime-swallowing embedded graphics. Screw them.

16. You’ll make a daily/weekly budget for Friendster.

17. You’ll make friends by asking other people’s email. After that, nothing else unless you are of the same school/organization/company, etc

18. You’ll search for Friendster accounts of Starstruck finalists/celebrities etc. and confused with the multiplicity of their profiles. And then you’ll not even bother clicking any of them. Otherwise, you click all of then and ask them to add you. Addict.

19. You’ll be curious if a Pinoyster or an adversarian counterpart, Enemyster, exists.

20. You’ll be curious with other linking sites such as hi5, multiply, myspace, et al. and create more and more accounts.

21. You’ll be pissed off after reading this.

Categories: Tsismisan

PAGTATANTO

Another Tagalog term I’ve just learned.

I’m not used to ‘recall my earlier post’, yet there’s one thing that I’ve just realized after these tremendously decapitating weeks of overspending and backstabbing.

Some Average-Joe-by-Y-Not-first-liner girl of the blogosphere claims that I have ‘anterograde amnesia’. I realized—I really have.

All thanks to Extra Joss. This energizer has burped my useful neurons into shammies clinically. Now, I am having problems with my temporal lobe…

Please join my advocacy. SAY NO TO EXTRA JOSS.

I just love it when female bloggers visit me. *chuckles *wink *wink. Burp. Love it when they place my name within their posts while I’m drinking my favorite mango Juice.

Some, well, err– just can’t stop boggling my mind.

I felt so inadequate a few hours after I finished typing my previous article for Wednesday.

I intentionally rented a PC in a computer center nearest to an eatery where CvSU student drunkards usually meet-and-greet-and-*toot.

I recently am trying to keep myself hidden behind the clouds–thus, the Wednesday post.

I was being convinced by *someone to cooperate with them and oblige the position as the CEGP coordinator of Cavite. But after long weeks of obscurity, I was still found by this *someone inside the canteen while I was blabbing about the mysteries of social climbing and ukay-ukay get-up identification.

“I’ll meet you at your boarding house…”

I dumbfoundedly replied, “Not sure if I’ll come. Might be late…”

He persists. “I’ll make it around 7 pm…”

I nodded as if I was not thinking religiously. Luckily I didn’t give him a hint that our classes in Speech Communication would have a super short orientation for the Thursday GMA7 exposure trip.

Then to add my diversionary scheme, I expensively surfed/blogged for 4 hours straight just to make sure *he will not catch me meddling inside our ghost-infested apartment.

It’s dark already. I was so glad to pay a hundred pesos on the counter.

Since our apartment is a 1-km walking-distance area from the internet center, I walked along the roadsides towards our house, ensuring that *he would not took notice of my evening existence in Indang.

But *he has a keen eye…

Some brusque long-haired man 10 meters away from me loudly jumped out of the jeep without thinking he might kill himself. It was dark, then, but his stance is very familiar.

It’s *someone.

I had no choice… I had to talk to him–for the second freakin’ time.

OMFG… I forgot the words I supposed to type.

Sorry… my short term memory loss is tingling me…

“Hindi ko po kaya. Hindi po talaga…” is all I can remember after taking us 2 hours of cyclical dialectical communication.

Will tell you about our Exposure Trip in GMA7 where we audienced SiS Thursday Live telecast and Imelda Papin Episode, and Debate With Mare and Pare soon after I put my pea-sized brain back to my medulla oblongata.

———————-

I’m not being Asiatic anymore. I want to change my header. Estupidormitarian.

I want to change my URL. es2pido.blogspot.com.

I’ll inform you as soon as I have finished my customization.

NOTE: I’m just changing the header and the url. Only the header, not the whole blog. I have no extra time to do an overhaul. ^_^

Categories: Personalan

FIELD TRIP

What a berserker.

One of our boarders interjected out-of-the-blue that some text message he received which reads that their family will go to Enchanted Kingdom (a fabulousy popular theme park in the Philippines) pisses him off totally. Holy cow. If I’m not his boarder, I would’ve thrown a thousand pillows in front of him for boasting it. That was freakin’ intentional.

I haven’t been there. Really.

We promised to ourselves ever since Dad last came here in the Philippines that we must be rejoined altogether (as in complete) before we purchase the
effing (thanks juice for the term ^_^) tickets.

Luckily, Dad usually hibernates here for about 4 days and then leaves.

What a pity.

I refused going to Enchanted Kingdom even if it’s in the package of our previous fieldtrips way back elementary years. Until now, I’m declining free ticket offers. That’s how Enchanted Kingdom has become a very great deal to us Bernardos.

Oh yes, will be having our field trip to GMA7. Golly! Who shall be the stars for the live telecast of SiS? And, am I going to piss Mareng Winnie again by opening our graduation heckling issue?

Need to prepare for the snacks on the bus.

Ako ang nagsaing, iba ang kakain…

NO!!!~ Am no gonna buy Pringles/Spuds/Nova/Chippy/Coke/Cheez Curls/Potato Chips just to be gormandized by my classmates inside the bus. I regret the days my mom has bought lots of stuff in my bag pack.

Especially my precious 80 peso-worth Pringles which I crave so much.

I’m so selfish.

And oh, gone are the days where I used to make baon plastic bags every distant bus trip I engage to. Hahaha. So much for the puke-per-minute record in our family. What a scallawag I am.

Categories: Personalan, Tsismisan

BS MARKETING major in Mass Reproduction

PRELUDE

I’m starting to get my anger management sessions seriously for a few weeks before I burst Mt. Mayon’s pyroplastic flow out of my socially-intelligent blabbermouth in front of him/her.

I hate people who seemed to brag about their being so uneducated and uncivilized. And they are even proud of their brashness. I mean, there’s a room for tactless jabbering and hearsay mass production outside the university premises but this one who actually pre-emptly castigates me with his so-called ‘i know everything about him because he’s our neighbor’ is completely unforgiving! And he does that to my classmates and my closest peers.

What’s his/her problem?

I’ve never EVER bothered him/her or his/her family since the day I landed barefoot on the mudskipper-thrived concrete roads of Dasmariñas. But why the hell is he bragging about he knows everything about me? And even stabs me hardly at the back? Is this the way he/she used to to gain more friends?

Why does he bother storytelling about me eventhough he doesn’t know me or has never ever bothered me at all?

I’ve never imagined that there are such outlandish people like him/her who has efforts to make news about me. I’m starting to lose my self-respect.

If he/she continues to do such, he/she will regret it. He/she will regret he enrolled his/her name on the Mass Communication master list of students here in Cavite State University.

But for the meantime, I’ll act myself out professionally civilized and just let him fill my angst up to its highest level and wait for the right time before I burst it out. That would be sweet and spicy.

———

HAIR COLOR INFLUENCE

I’ve noticed it ever since.

Cavite State University (CvSU) has yet not printed out the real University code (of which has never been promulgated nor consulted correspondingly to the students and instead bypassed it for their own capitalistic goodness) containing the you-know-what-to-do inside the campus. And I’ve never ever imagined I’ve been this influential with the help of this.

Yeah yeah. I’m an introvert and of course not the richest person in CvSU (most of the students are members of the suburban poor, yet students with cars drammatically up surged in population). BUT (with an overrated speech communication professor accent) should it influence, too, how I dress myself up and influence all our male students in our university? I mean ‘male’, not the ’semale’.

————–

I have noticed my schoolmates who have started dying their hair after I dyed mine.

Two years ago, I’ve blemished my hair with light-hued highlights. I entered the university with no guards chasing me but students noticeably staring at me.

Three days after, I saw one of the Job Experience program students had his hair with the gray one–to think he’s my classmate. That day on, ten more were noticeably bragging their hair in the central batibot are of our university. I’m the self-proclaimed pioneer of the hair highlighting society in CvSU.

That doesn’t stop me from influencing.

I’ve made anime art (*ehem) printed on a4 photopaper posted on the Freedom Wall of ours. That was honestly the first time in the University to (*boastfulness beware) be flabbergasted with a super Anime art printed on photopaper and pasted to be seen publicly (*so yabang naman me). That was the first time our University had seen a student used Photoshop CS for a happy birthday post.

After a week, some scumbag drew freckles on my art and then another dumbass drew a badly-sketched anime version of his girlfriend’s face. More days have passed and more drawings (mostly badly-made–i’m so mean ^_^) were stapled/glued/gawgawed/taped.

Then the anime enthusiasm just spreadt in the whole campus instantly.

Nope, there’s more.

I was not satisfied with my hairstyle since I’m not used to apply hair gel/wax/polish on it. One time, I bought hair wax. I styled my hair ala punkista anime look. Cite the lead singer of Gorillaz. The next day, the trasher-trying-hards of CvSU did the same to theirs. Hahaha.

There’s still more!

I keep on lambasting our school uniform for its uncomfortable texture and thickness. It’s so hard to iron and the logo looks like a kulangot (nose dirt). A De La Salle uniform copycat. I started wearing the ordinary white polo shirt with a badge-looking ID holder. Guards seemed to tolerate. That was a Friday.

The next week, the number of students wearing the same uniform as mine is multiplied times 30.

I’m not done yet.

I was not satisfied with my hair color. Hair higlighting is cheesy, and I thought it looked cheap because it’s just two hundred pesos. And no boy has ever dared to dye their hair thoroughly inside the university with bright colors.

I insisted with a ‘very light golden sand’ (which has gradually faded now, see my pic below) shade and wrapped myself with a Cloud Strife looking Bench Claydoh and Finesse hairspray-held hair style (I surely know no one uses Bench Claydoh in Cavite State University except me–haha.) with the ordinary PCU white uniform.

Two weeks after, I noticed most of my Psychology classmates to have dyed their hair, too. But not with the same shade as mine. And oh, with the same hair style but using a cheaper hair cream or something. Ha, yabang ko talaga.

Then the number increases. And so on and so forth.

God, I never imagined to be so influential.

Categories: Eskwelahan

GASTUSAN GALORE ver.2

Hmmm… I’ve spent more or less 500 pesos for the 3r plus index print photo developing. And now, my groupmates have to repeat some of our silhouette shots just because of underexposed pics? Arrrrgh.

Anyways, here are some my entries for my Intro to Photography mid term requirement…

Habulin mo ‘ko… habulin mo ko…

Nope, not this one.

“Burara”
(Rule of Thirds)

“… ka(l/m)a(t/y)a(y)an?”
(Panning)

“P6.25″
(Panning)

Ovulation
(Silhouette)

Categories: Eskwelahan

EAST WAVE PREOCCUPATION

I am a Koreanovela aficionado, and whenever I bounce upon rivaling stations which seems to barrage certain melodramas as the (redundancy aside) most super-duper to the googolflexth power popular in the whole universe, I don’t bother. Unless the stars are gooeyliciously makalaglag-brief.

That’s why I was hooked to Meteor Garden 1.

It’s not that I really liked Xu Xiao Tian (Barbie XU). I was just so flabbergasted to see good-looking Chinese people in a series which of the same type have been proclaimed with overrated oriental fashion similar to formerly telecasted wuxia series every Sunday mornings in ABS-CBN (still recall? ^_^). Can’t keep myself off wondering how Dao Ming Si is too handsome to be a Taiwanese. That caused me to return home faster that the speeding TGV train without waiting for our school bus to escort us to our leather couches. Curiosity glued me to anticipation.

But for a while, the Korean wave started to flush us out of our imaginary lasciviousness to Chinese babes of Lavender and A Promise of Love at the Dolphin Bay.

Song Hye-Gyo came. I thought I was ready to die.

Kaeul Yeongga (Autumn Fairytale) aka Endless Love 1 became popular mainly because their stars are terrificly damn goodlooking. Face it. It’s not just the dramatic plot and acting of young counterparts of Jenny and Johnny who forced your lustful minds to watch the series. It’s either you are dumbfounded staring at Jenny’s (Song Hye-Gyo) angelic face or you are stripping Song Seung-Heon and Won Bin from their suits to their shoes. Haha.

And then people eventually patronized good East Asian quality acting and storytelling. Korean dramas are world-class. Admit it. Even the Chinese and the Taiwanese can’t stand blaming themselves to get their overacting and slapsticks minisculed by adulterated yet laugh-worthy corn goodness of Korean melodramas.

From Endless Love 1, 2, and 3, Miss Mermaid (Irene), Stairway to Heaven, Full House, Lovers in Paris, My Name is Kim Sam Soon, and My Girl to name a few, zillions are spamming our republic television.

Just look at the transition of the plots. From too dramatic and tearjerking to ass tingling and scatterbrain pouncing ones.

There have been too many Korean melodrama titles emerging in ABS-CBN, GMA7, and some small players. So many, I don’t know if Filipino dramatists would even have the effort or fingernail movement to squeeze their creative intelligible juices from their cerebrums and transform them audiovisually.

We are missing Pangako Sa ‘Yo. We are missing Encantadia 1 (don’t mind the succeeding sequels Etheria and Pag-ibig hanggang Wakas because they are simply garbage–wasted Gozon’s time and Starstruck hotness).

We are missing Filipino craft to teledramas. We are pretentiously driven to absorbing douchebags like Darna, Marina, Majika, Captain Barbell, I Love NY, et al.

Categories: Tsismisan

DON’T CALL ME. I CALL MYSELF

PREFACE

Ate My, currently the Gazette’s Managing Editor chanced to approach me inside the (semi) Student Union Building and asked for assistance about their Photoshop installation…

Ate My: Neil, do you still have an Adobe Photoshop installer (cd)?

Neil: Apparently, I haven’t burned one. I think I have already saved all the needed installation files in one of the drives (of The Gazette PC).

Ate My: Oh, so we have in our (pertaining to The Gazette, Ate My, and me)…

Neil: (stares blankly at Ate My)

Ate My:… uhmm… in “our” (pertaining to The Gazette and Ate My) PC, right?

Neil: Yes, Ate My.

Ate My: Oh ok. Thanks… (leaves)

Finally…

——————

The so-called super-duper impudently irresponsible ex-Gazette staffer was starting to read religiously the book aka the very second item he bought after his first salary from Mr. Gil Portes (you know, the you-don’t-know director behind Alessandra de Rossi monstrous movies like Mga Munting Tinig, Homecoming–bet you haven’t watched this ^_^) when he pondered psychologically-inclined terms like egoist, egotist, altruist… I don’t want to define these words since they waste too much space in this post… OMG, did I just waste words by reminding you I’m wasting my post space because of defining these…

Arrgh. Let’s continue.

They simply denote self-centeredness and selflessness. But then what took notice is the word that was given the longest and the most heart-piercing elaboration by that Pocket Book published Word Power Made Easy (just realized Pocket Book is a proper noun for a popular publishing company).

Introvert.

I have been too exclusive to my peers. Maybe you are aware (cite Intimidation is the Best Policy) that people are intimidated to me. My speech and my eyeglasses speak too loud–they are, too, overwhelmed by my solitary locomotion. I tend to be with my classmates whom I’ve been close to since highschool graduation melted down academic pretentiousness. But honestly, I love to work by myself. I do things my way, without further assistance from my friends. Though they are sincerely friendly to me, I can’t help but to force my ego to socialize with their efforts to dig my heart and say “Neil, pagod ka na… Tulungan ka na namin”.

I’ve been self-orienting since time immemorial. I have learned lots of things without being preached by our priest, our professors, and my parents–particularly my dad. I am not sure, but when they teach lessons of life and academe, I listen. But I exclude a large ration of those. I want to discover things by myself.

It’s not because I want to be recognized as Frank Sinatra popularly rendered. In fact, eventhough I haven’t said a word, I am the center of attraction.

I don’t seek attention. Attention seeks me.

Am I that intelligent?

—————–

Ain’t you pissed off when someone intentionally and over-volumely interrupts you while you’re in the middle of your speaking?

Categories: Personalan

DON’T CALL ME. I CALL MYSELF

PREFACE

Ate My, currently the Gazette’s Managing Editor chanced to approach me inside the (semi) Student Union Building and asked for assistance about their Photoshop installation…

Ate My: Neil, do you still have an Adobe Photoshop installer (cd)?

Neil: Apparently, I haven’t burned one. I think I have already saved all the needed installation files in one of the drives (of The Gazette PC).

Ate My: Oh, so we have in our (pertaining to The Gazette, Ate My, and me)…

Neil: (stares blankly at Ate My)

Ate My:… uhmm… in “our” (pertaining to The Gazette and Ate My) PC, right?

Neil: Yes, Ate My.

Ate My: Oh ok. Thanks… (leaves)

Finally…

——————

The so-called super-duper impudently irresponsible ex-Gazette staffer was starting to read religiously the book aka the very second item he bought after his first salary from Mr. Gil Portes (you know, the you-don’t-know director behind Alessandra de Rossi monstrous movies like Mga Munting Tinig, Homecoming–bet you haven’t watched this ^_^) when he pondered psychologically-inclined terms like egoist, egotist, altruist… I don’t want to define these words since they waste too much space in this post… OMG, did I just waste words by reminding you I’m wasting my post space because of defining these…

Arrgh. Let’s continue.

They simply denote self-centeredness and selflessness. But then what took notice is the word that was given the longest and the most heart-piercing elaboration by that Pocket Book published Word Power Made Easy (just realized Pocket Book is a proper noun for a popular publishing company).

Introvert.

I have been too exclusive to my peers. Maybe you are aware (cite Intimidation is the Best Policy) that people are intimidated to me. My speech and my eyeglasses speak too loud–they are, too, overwhelmed by my solitary locomotion. I tend to be with my classmates whom I’ve been close to since highschool graduation melted down academic pretentiousness. But honestly, I love to work by myself. I do things my way, without further assistance from my friends. Though they are sincerely friendly to me, I can’t help but to force my ego to socialize with their efforts to dig my heart and say “Neil, pagod ka na… Tulungan ka na namin”.

I’ve been self-orienting since time immemorial. I have learned lots of things without being preached by our priest, our professors, and my parents–particularly my dad. I am not sure, but when they teach lessons of life and academe, I listen. But I exclude a large ration of those. I want to discover things by myself.

It’s not because I want to be recognized as Frank Sinatra popularly rendered. In fact, eventhough I haven’t said a word, I am the center of attraction.

I don’t seek attention. Attention seeks me.

Am I that intelligent?

—————–

Ain’t you pissed off when someone intentionally and over-volumely interrupts you while you’re in the middle of your speaking?

Categories: Personalan

FORGETTING SOMETHING?

I’m so forgetful.

I am not so sure if watching/viewing/daily patronizing pornography affects the proper flow of electric signals across the cosmic highways of my nervous system.

I was, according to my soon-to-graduate nursing student elder brother, diagnosed with teenage Alzheimer’s short term memory loss…

I used to forget my deadlines, appointments, and assigned group obligations. Everytime I realize my neural inefficiencies, I just slap myself hard imaginatively and say “Neil, what the hell is happening to you?”

This week, I nearly, but close enough, forgot to:

1. Cut-out news clippings with idioms and define each in a sheet of paper
or more.
2. Translate Idinagdag ni, Ayon kay, aniya, idinugtong
ni, etc. into English and use each in a sentence.
3. Take your ascorbic tabs regularly
4. Make interview questions for aspiring applicants for the Advertising
guild of SAMASKOM
5. Burn CDs for Kuya Emman
6. Pirate Adobe Pagemaker 7 for Ate Abby
7. Interview MIS programmer in DLSU-Dasma Library
8. Create a write-up for our MIS interview in Jollibee Indang
9. Take photos for our Photography midterm prerequisite.
9. Live happily every after.

All which have not been noted on my handy-dandy notebook.

My mommy blames my sleeplessness. I always sleep at 3 am when I got home and have my buttocks semi-permanently attached to my deskop PC.

My brother blames my being extremely undisciplined. Well, at least I’m not that obvious to (*fill in the blanks with words related to actions being done in a room locked intentionally.)

I blame it to free porn and blogging.

Oh I almost forgot… I still have a class at 1:30 pm. Darn me, I’m so forgetful.

Categories: Eskwelahan