That Other L Word

"By any chance you know how to counter some 'lovespell' some ho put on

me bro?" texted a friend a few days ago.

"Dude, you serious?" I replied back.

"Dead serious man."

And so after a few more exchanges and extra details, the most
intellectual thing I could reply to him was "Uh lemme get back to you
on that."

I must admit, what really what struck me most and caught me by
surprise with his confession is discovering that he actually had
feelings. Dang I didn't see that coming. All this time I thought he
was some kind of detached to all things mushy. See, a little profile
on the victim here; smart, confident, almost cocky and yet shy in
equal measure, and one who values logic and intelligent explanations
over anything that remotely resembles to any emotion. He's human and
all that but he isn't exactly that I'm-in-love kind of guy.

Now if only I were a shaman I would concoct things up from those
leaves and shit but then again I'm not. This writer is just gonna
write about it, make fun of his friend and just see what makes out of
this (which in my case is usually awesome)…

Exhibit A; Houston, We've Got A Problem

But first, let me put on that playlist to listen to while I'm writing this.

Ok.

Done.

Now, where were we? Right. And so I asked my friend again, "how did
this even happen?"

"Don't know man, it just sort of, just happened. I lost it."

I would assume he was referring to his head, but for some reason, I'm
thinking it's his dignity.

Over drinks he would claim he was never dumped per se (although I
would oppose to that). From how he puts it, he does the dumping all
the time. He flirts, girl enjoys. Off he goes to another. Period. It's
a win-win situation as he would call it. He gets his fix, the girl
gets hers too.

But what on earth could have happened that his perfect free love
status quo got shook by someone he calls Ho? And more importantly who
the fuck is this Ho? Is she pretty? Is she hot? Can she even keep up
with the intellects of the victim? And, the real question is, is she
really what my friend fondly claims her to be, a H-O?

Hmmm.

Exhibit B; There's Just Something about Mary

"What happened, really? And why is it such a problem?" I asked.

"Say dude, you've known this girl for some time now, and you know and
she knows there's this undeniable sexual tension between you two and
yet for some reason you've never hooked up, not even once, even when
you've got the chance and God knows how many chances you've passed up.
It just didn't happen because it's just always the wrong time. She's
always involved with someone and your hands are just busy on so many
things. And now she's gone. Gone gone… And every morning you get wood
and all you could think about is doing the nasty with her that would
make any pre-internet porn to shame. Isn't that torture? For all I
know she could have slipped some 'potion' on my drink or something
thus this. I have enslaved myself into having lustful thoughts and
what ungodly things I could do to her body."

Whoa. That's some kind of an honest exposition

"So what's the problem really? Is it because she's 'gone gone' or is
it because the wood you get every morning?"

"No. It's because I can't stop thinking of her."

Oh. My my.

The biggest downside of not having your squeeze beside you in the
morning is having to deal with the fact that there is no receptacle to
help you relieve that overwhelming emotion at a time when you needed
it the most. You wake up and there's no one there. Could it any be
more tragic?

Such tragedies have befallen on notable people before and no one
survives unscathed; Sisa losing her boys, Britney losing her head,
Firecrotch LiLo (intentionally) losing her panties. Before you know
it, you'll be going bonkers, attacking a car with an umbrella and
setting the world afire. Losing something isn't just healthy.

"From what I've heard Tanduay does offer instant remedy."

"You sure with that dude?"

"Hell yeah. I'm master shaman as hell."

Now that that day is fast approaching I beg you Lord rid us of this
plague that has infected the humanity as fast as you can say 'cum'.
Isn't this supposed to be a cue for a national issue we could talk
over lunch breaks like the state of Kris Aquino's vagina or PNOY's latest
foray on pressing concerns like finding him a first lady? Wait. Never
mind.

Good thing I'm only just playing Quit Playing Games (i know, shoot me now) for no other
reasons than 90's nostalgia and nothing else. Honest lie truth.
Really.

Wait. Where's the replay stop button again?

This Ain't About my Abs

For a year that actually found praise for the new definition of “guido” and actually consider a reality show of dirty Italians as one of the greatest sociocultural experiment of our modern times, does it say a lot of what we’ve come into as humans? ets put t this way, I might even put “the abs” between my name now. I don’t have abdominals but I digress.

I might as well shove it into people’s faces now - something else, not the abs.

It’s one of those moments wherein you just snap and see what you ought to have seen for the longest time. Yes, I think I have been just holding on to certain things a tad too long now, hoping things would change, people would change and that they would be perceptive as what I am to them. Guess I was wrong yet again. Each time I checked, I only got disappointed.

Swimming to the same ocean over and over and eager to see a curb in the wrongful nature on certain fishes, murky waters, and fishes from murky waters, I was so hopeful I crossed my fingers for the nth time only to realize, as that old adage goes, “you can take a guppies from the mud but…” I should’ve just raised the middle finger instead.

Maybe I was just too hopeful… too optimistic… that people would just get over themselves and actually try to be supportive of their friend that had nothing but good intentions, supporting them in all their interests and, well, maybe giving them the occasional knocks on the head… And that people should say or imply whether you didn’t have a chance to begin with and not make us think otherwise. Not everyone can be Sookie when they’re more of a Jason… And maybe the buffoons did try to run the show and I get it. We can’t all be Smarty’s and Brainda’s because that would make us all equals and that’s just wrong… but for buffoons to actually think they’re better than everyone else when they’re not, that’s just godawful (I’m not talking about Survivor Nicaragua) because at the end of the day, we all know who is the loser. And I don't want them to forget that. Just keeping the rightful order of things, suckers.

I have been too patient for so long that I forgot sucking it up and holding it in would be just too boring to any producer. What would the Jersey crew do, right? Blow up. Rage. Fist pump. Or in my case, call it out to the world.
Think guido and try not to be Zuckerberg, i remind myself, no matter how some people claim that the first 10 minutes of the Aaron Sorkin adaptation paralleled to how big of a dick I was. (Cause célèbre blog anyone? But that’s another story.)

But then again maybe I was never guido. Maybe I just liked the thought of being one. Maybe I just liked the entertaining the idea of pulling off things a sane and normal person would have to do a facepalm to in the morning, during a hangover. Or maybe humanity is at an all time low. Whatever it is, if there’s one thing that I’m really sure of, it’s that Zuckerberg and I, big dicks that we are, we don’t have abs.

James The Great.

I think I’m actually marching to that commencement music this March. Or maybe not- but hopefully, really crossings my fingers here, I do... because I would go out on a limb just to don that black damn toga - even if that means fighting my greatest nemesis of all; myself.

Four years ago, I joined the bandwagon of enrolling nursing as a college degree for all the wrong reasons. Sure, there was the thought of earning dollars involved. But my naïvite was so humongous back then that the sole reason why I chose nursing, aside from looking awesome in white, is to go to the States, change my citizenship, and be on Survivor. Top that.

Geez who knows what would happen to that show after two more seasons? By the time I’m going to be there, if reality and destiny even permits, production would have been already halted and everything I have worked so hard for at Nursing school would have proven to be futile.

Oh my god James, like, you have just shrunk your brains, or what?

And so I ask myself, again, “James, where do you see yourself in the next five years?” Shudder, right? I can hear the crickets chirping. “Well, I think, uhm, uhm”. You get the point. Go James, go. Make up something witty, clever or funny as always because that’s what you’re good at. Not. Somehow, when it comes to serious matters such as the temperature of Rhum being served and my life in possible ruins, I find myself lost in the nothingness of what supposed to be is common sense.

How feasible would it be If I just knock myself over, have amnesia, and forget who I really am? At least I wouldn’t have to worry anymore about my constant procrastination and the lack of action over my intentions. I’m sure I’d make good grades if I weren’t myself. I’m also certain all the clutters in my bedroom or my head would be all gone. And I’m vey positive I would be the assertive person I always wanted to be, graduate this March, and just rock.

No more daydreaming, no more boozing, and no more bitching about how I couldn’t be my own Kurt Cobain in this lifetime. How awesome is that? Uh, just follow the drift. I mean, it would probably transform me into a square and boring person but right now, I am not in a position to complain. I just have to face it. And grow up.

For that I would like to take this opportunity to air out my feelings.

Dear Mom and Dad, I’m really sorry for being such a mess. I promise to study my brains out these finals even if it means morphing myself into some kind of zombie. And James, you know what you ought to do. I don’t even have to tell you what it is. Or I’m just going to have to whack you in the head when you turn wacko every minute or so. So help me God.

Call Me An Ass, A Jerk, Whatever.

“What am I to you?”

“friends.”

“friends lang?”

“uh… yeah.”

And boy did I know I was in trouble. Or she was. It depends on how you see it. I don’t know. Besides if I was the villain in her story, I was in every right, the hero in mine.

Her friends could have killed me right there and then if they knew I broke their friend’s heart which would just do nothing but affirm the fact that, indeed, I was the victim.

We’ll what’s a poor boy got do? I didn’t want to lead her on. I didn’t have any feelings towards her of any kind. I just, like any douchebag of a guy, copied notes from her, occasionally flirted (but only when necessary). That’s just pretty much it. And some assignments.

I had to do what I got to do.

I entertained her didn’t I?

Call me an ass, a jerk, whatever.

It is undeniable she enjoyed my company.

And I was still doing her a favor by not leading her on.
I can’t fake love you know.

And for that my friend, I deserve a medal of honor.

I mean, in what scenario would she have thought that I was harboring some sort of affection? Exactly.

Again, call me an ass, a jerk, whatever.

I just want to make it public, for future disclaimer purposes, that if I do like you, being the most blunt and person that I am, I would have told you the moment that we met… or when I finally muster any guts, which is like… depends on the urgency. Most of the time, it depends on the need.

And If I had known you for the longest time now, and I still I haven’t told you anything, chances are… you know what your chances are or at least you get the point.

God.

So just get over it. And I’m sorry.

“Laagan kaayo ka dong. Pag-uli sa inyo oi. Pagbuhat inyo IS.”

We actually chanced upon each other one night. And by the tone she used on me, I guess I shouldn’t get my guards down even after two years. I could actually die from crime of passion, you know.

And dude that is just damn epic. ;-)

Nia

Remember when MYX could actually pass as cool? Well, me neither, since that has never transpired. Never did. Never will. Another thing that will never happen, not in this universe nor in any alternate universe for that matter is for people to become Nia. I was actually considering Jehna for that one, but that's another story. But anyhow, I dare ask, Why can't everyone be more like Nia; someone who actually has substance, writes VERY well and passionate at what she does? Heck she can cut her toenails and still be passionate about it. I made that one up- but you get the point. It doesn't hurt either she has this uncanny resemblance to Maricar. Uh uh, no siree. There is no way looking like someone from those infamous videos be a problem. There isn't even any problem at all. But what has this world had come into? We suddenly have pasang-awas feeling a great deal of self-importance sprouting like mushrooms on pissed dead woods. And all this poor guy could ever do is shudder in fear at the horrendous sight. Mushrooms are never much of a view, is it? If you imagine at the thought alone, then try seeing it firsthand. So why can't people be more like Nia? You know why.

Sorry

Normally, I wouldn't do this, but I would also ask apology to everyone, in one way or another, I have directly or indirectly alienated. I don't have to present a list, do I? But I'm going to own up to what I did, said or perhaps wrote about you people. I'm not going to defend myself. I wronged you and I'm sorry. To myself, dude, I'm sorry for being the person that I am. It's not going to be all fun ride I tell you. I always have this habit of destroying myself. And I am bound to be hated. I will always be saying things other people wish they could. And I'd be always, like, "well shit happens". But just because I'm always spiraling down, doesn't mean I like it. Maybe I do, but sometimes, I wish it were different. Nah. Okay, maybe I don't at times. Hey it's not like I can do anything about it. Again, sorry, I can. Yeah I CAN. But you do know I'm such a sloth and Satan's spawn right? God did I just argue with myself?Hahaha. If I were to be born again into this world, I'd pick to be myself in a heartbeat. Or not. But bottomline is, Im sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I don't say it that often, but when I do, I really mean it.

Mushy Heaven

One picture. One friggin' picture. That's all it takes… and I'm completely smitten all over again. And I'm sent to mushy heaven again. And again. And again. And I'm like, fuck, I hate this feeling. This isn't me at all. I'm hardcore; I'm sex. drugs. violence. I'm not rainbows, chocolates and horses unicorns. Yet I turn into one at the mere sight of… ugh. Shit. I hate this. But just how all that went awry. The last time I checked we were doing well. And I was about to study horses, if not, learning to ride one. Were you mugged or harassed by some people? By which, I mean monsters I consider as friends. I swear I'd consider them as just monsters now. So am I smelling sabotage here? Jed, dude, do you know how hard it is to find anyone who has substance? Shit you. And this goes to everyone. Consider yourselves warned. God I can't believe I'm back to my old ways again.

Like Magic

Below is my cheerdance write-up for the Crusader Intramurals issue. I just feel the need to post it since it's going to be butchered up anyway by the editorial board... It's my baby and i'm so protective of it, it has to see the light of the day raw, honest and without pretensions. Heck, it's so good it's almost orgasmic.

After amassing over hundreds of crowds eager to see some body maneuvering prowess, it's easy to see why this year’s cheerdance competition is deemed as the most anticipated event of the intramurals season. But then, since when did the cheerdance not become the most awaited? Simply put, it is already ingrained in the mindset of every Atenean that cheerdance is synonymous Intramurals. So healthy, their relationship that it starts to feel one can’t live without the other. Imagine an intramurals without cheerdance. Hmm. You get the point.

The premise is simple. Every year the clock stops, the stars align and the entire Xavier universe gather around the hallowed halls of the gymnasium to see which college has what it takes to be hailed as the best in cheering and dancing. Sounds simple huh? Wrong.

See, it is taken a general rule of thumb here that simple is the most loathed word and the more complex the entire routine is, the better. The team that do good, keep their act together, and wow the audience with best routines win.

Here is the rundown of what really happened last 26th of July

SOE-
The Phoenix clad in blue and white opened the competition… who could ever forget them? Wait. Uhm. Right. They opened the competition. One thing the Educs should realize is that they’re almost there but they are not just getting there yet. Sure it’s one thing to give a good performance; it’s another to be pitted with the giants. It’s just a matter of bad luck that even if they gave a good and clean performance the others did as well. Seryahakune on Youtube could only say “go educ… xD”

Agriculture-
The biggest surprise of the evening came in green and looking almost like a bunch of Peter Pans. The grabbed the third spot. “nice, biggest surprise gyud ang aggies, deserved the spot..” opines 098march.. Although not as clean (the performance) as every bullrider would hope for, they had their moment when they did that synchronized tumbling. And that chubby kid in the center, don’t forget! It has been six years since the Aggies made waves, and this year, they rightfully have gotten what they deserved.

CIT-
If cheerdance has taught us something about the Knights it has to be their sheer athleticism. One cannot deny the fact that their cheerleaders had it going for them in terms of potential. 19jessa89 writes “sUper tumblinG!!!!bow!!! ”. A little tweaking here, a little guidance there and a power costume to boot, it’ll be no time when CIT could drop the ball against the giants. There is still hope for CIT. And great potential, if we may add.

Artscies –
There were many reasons to get excited about the Tiger’s performance. For one, they have always been dependable in delivering great goods… but if we had to pick one, it would have to be the cheerleaders. They were so great at what they do, dancing, doing stunts and all and yet the girls still manage to look cute with oozing hint of sexy after every move. It felt like Sailormoon. Even though, they didn’t land a spot in the top three, that doesn’t make them any less good as cheerleaders. And sexy.

Engineering –
Further proof that the Engineering almost gave the SBM a run for their money: geo on Youtube writes “SBM ko pro mas ganahan ko sa performance sa Engineering!.. ”. They won 2nd. Were they good? Yes. But were they good enough to get the top spot once again like they did last year? The judges obviously said no. Or they could have topped themselves last year, but the SBM topped them more. If it’s any consolation, they were really snappy. And besides, 2nd place is not too shabby either.


Nursing
Come to think of it, the Pythons actually had a chance of winning… if it was America’s Best Dance Crew. “i agree hiphop ra kau sa last part, dli na xa cheerdance. daog unta mo sa hiphop competition... sayang nursing.” adds graXa23. Costume-wise, the pythons looked the part, if not, the best amongst everyone. After the performance, people actually started rooting for them. They were the cutest hiphop oddball that sashayed the court. They even brought the house down. They just lacked stunts. Another one or two tricks would have made a difference.


SBM
In a highly foreseen move, the SBM, donning that perennial yellow, delivered once again enough chutzpah and goods to secure this year’s crown. As everyone can recall, they came in second last year. This time, they have succeeded. “Wala gyud nag-expect. Basta sa amo lang limpyo, walay sayop… bonus na ni ni God sa amo” adds their cheercaptain, with tears were flowing from here eyes. Jenangel913 on youtube sums up the performance as, “limpyo kaau ang ambak, dungan jud. Payts! ;)” Enough said.

There are many things we don’t understand about cheerdance (like, for instance how our bets always don’t get the top spot). However, there is one thing we absolutely, totally understand without question.

When 7 teams perform and represent each college after gruesome weeks of preparation and the entire population stop, watch in awe and admiration, and get together like a solid community (never mind those inflated you-know-what thrown around the gym)… that is when something truly magical happens.

Like Magic. Viva el Cheerdance! Until next year. ;-)

photo credit: Pamela Lico
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The Midterm Effect

Fcuk. I knew this was coming… but I kinda hoped it hadn’t because it sucks. Bigtime.

I don’t even have to reveal my QPI for people to know how my existence is hanging by a thread lately. Hint: I need to pull a miracle in order to survive the ordeals of nursing education. Tricks won't do this time.

I’ve got this question about my class standing and certainly I already had the answer. Particularly if the question is, “am I in BIG trouble?”.

I don’t have to answer that, do I?

too late

In the true i-wished-i-acted-on-it-earlier tradition, I realize that sometimes, by the time I get serious, it’s already too late.

In a word, midterms.

In another related word, college.

Heck I even get the weirdest feeling the next word would be life.