Roses are red, violets are blue... fuck you, whore.

Who wouldn't want to buy a card that said that? I would.

I watched (500) Days of Summer last Saturday with a couple of friends. All I have to say it it's a friggin' amazing movie. Well, maybe that's not all I have to say--I'm writing a review after all.

I think it's definitely tied or even taken the top spot of Juno in my fave movie list. H'yeah!

I need to watch it again just to make sure. :D

This review will consist of two parts--that is if I don't fall off track while writing this.

I.

I don't think I've ever felt so good about a film than I have about this one. Marc Webb's directorial debut takes on the often-told story of lovers and fate and twists it into something more brilliant and more genuine in its own quirky way.

What makes this movie so good is the fact that it hits close to home. One way or another, you've already gone through Tom's heartbreak or Summer's realization that it comes off as more than just their story but yours as well. As the movie played on, I felt my own "experiences" surging back as vivid as could be, and undoubtedly, everybody else I'm sure the same was true for everybody else as well--that is considering they aren't heartless creatures.

Not to mention Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel put a new spin unto the characters, making them more solid and more believable. Their portrayals were smack on of the boy who's been looking for love and the girl who believes it's as real as Santa Claus. I don't know how else the characters would have gone without them. And quite frankly, their chemistry kills.

The comic kick is straightforward and smart. Its twisted hyperboles puts to life all those feelings you can't simply describe in feeble words--it gives you something more close to your heart than it is to the physical world. And the music jived ever so smoothly with the story.

Other films portray something that might have been for any random dream, but this one just hits the spot and tells something more. (500) Days of Summer stays true to it's first quip: it isn't a love story. No, because it's too true to be just one.

II.

Gahd, this movie. The moment I got off my seat, I fell in love. Like cupid hit me with arrow--the arrow being a metaphorical symbol for the movie, if you actually need that explanation. With whom did I fall in love with? I have no clue. But I was struck and in a daze.

I was practically floating out of the movie house. And walking around Greenhills, I could've been arrested for being high on pot or something. Yes, it was intense. (Disclaimer: I was not high on pot, mind you... that is unless the peanuts in my M'n'Ms were spiked.)

There's this part in front of V-Mall with those big posts, and I was so high, I suddenly leaned on one of them and stared up blankly with some kind of lovestruck daze. Sigh, I said. And I was greeted with something along the lines of "You're high" or "You're in love." Yes, I'm a loser, shut up! (But I bet you are too.)

The rest of the night consisted of love songs and random words hovering out into the street. I dunno how many people I probably freaked out with my sudden bursts of "I wanna hold you hand..." (Yes, the Beatles song.) I swear, I could've gone singing-in-the-rain with that lamp post in front of Club Filipino had I not come to my senses at the exact second I touched that post. It's one swing away from cuckoo, and I almost crossed that border.

To pass time, we walked to the playground in North Greenhills, and all the way I kept blabbing on like some mad dude. While playing with the seesaw, I suddenly for some odd reason placed sexual innuendos on all the rides. When I had finally collapsed on the swing, I was already dreaming of weddings, kisses and what-nots. I think I finally mellowed down when I played my slow-dance songs and started imagining.

I don't think I've ever been that way because of a movie. It's like pot, only better--and not deadly! It's called love. Sigh...

Really, I Don't Understand...

I can't believe we're having Saturday classes.

It's like being in a clingy relationship. As if five days isn't good enough, they still want us for one more. Whatever happened to room to breathe, ey? Sadly, breaking up isn't as easy as a normal "It's not you, it's me" speech.

That's like the second Saturday they've taken away from us. Gahd, I feel so loved. o.O

Prolly not for the other levels, but Saturday morning, we took the HSK--a.k.a. Chinese Shotgun Test.

See, that's another issue over there. WHY MUST WE TAKE IT.

Yeah, school bench marking and all. But I'm not that interested in finding out how bad I am in Chinese. Well, fine, that isn't the right question.

What I should be asking is WHY AM I STUDYING CHINESE.

I'm not Chinese anyway. They should make it an elective for us Filipinos. Hahaha.

Fine, tell me to go study in La Salle. o.O

But seriously, I'm not learning anything in Chinese class. For me, it's just the basics and memorization that gets me by. I don't even understand anything they're telling me, and to be honest, they don't understand my fail accent either when they aren't prepared for my sentences.

Prepared meaning it's an oral test, and they know the subject of my speech.

Unprepared meaning I ask a question in class. o.O

But I will tell you this, I am getting better. Mind you.

It's quite funny that I'm in Chinese advanced. Most of the people in this school have some mix of Chinese blood in them, but they still find themselves having a hard time. I guess I'm blessed.

Chinese in this school should be more practical.
I think they should adapt the English way of teaching things. You know, how grade school English teachers teach students. Nouns. Verbs. This topic and that. I don't find the vocab + story thing working out for me. (Then again, is there some kind of new Singaporean thing working for the batches below me? Damn those colored books. Hehe.)

You know what, even Filipino seems useless.

Well, not for me of course. But other people still speak and write Filipino as though they're foreigners. (Take my seatmate, my best friend and that other guy as examples.) Analyzing short stories and reading Rizal aren't exactly helping THEM communicate in the language better. I think they should have more oral tests. And more writing things... blogs for example.

But whatever. I'm a senior. It's my last year. I may do something, but I can't do too much. The lower batches should take the reins of their education.

(Damn. I was supposed to blog about something else. Haha!)

Alive (...and Probably Sweating Inside the Costume)

Walking lions in hot suits, disobedient kids in freakishly tight pants and manananggals--or as Ariel would call it, Victoria's Secret supermodels--dominated the school today. No, I didn't take anything, mind you. (That was probably the other day.)

It's Teen Read Week, and our ever so clever teachers dressed up as literary characters. Moving around the school were countless Cullens (Oh please, isn't one manananggal enough?), a lot of religious peeps and a pair that went together. *ehemclickhereehem*

Who would I dress up as?

Hmmm... I'd probably go as Count Olaf just for the heck of it. Hehehe. I'd probably match it with some coffee and scare people out of their wits with my insane hyperactivity. Rawr.

If not, I'd go as the pregnant woman from Portents. Hihihi.

Jessica Zafra! I wanna get myself a copy of her books already.

We've piratically read all the short stories lined up for English class. I find my favorite one's from the Filipino authors. (Go, nationalism!) Next to them are the Japanese authors and Ernest Hemingway. The others... not my type.

The one I disliked the most? Sorry, it's the Indian one.

Not being racist and all, but yeah, I'm being racist... Of course not.

In other news, I'm bringing other things alive. Namely, two plays. Isn't that cool? (That's a rhetorical question. Meaning there's no room for interpretation. Meaning shut up.)

There's my secret play for FX. Secret because I'm not ready to reveal it yet.

But if you want, you can head on over to the library and go find it. IT IS Teen Read Week. Might as well do something worthwhile for once. The book's seriously collecting dust on the shelf. Seriously.

The second's for Filipino class. Ang Paglilitis ni Mang Serapio.

I'm so excited, I've already designed a set and made a concept for it way ahead of my FX play. (I need a bit more inspiration to kick my imagination to work something creative for the other.) How I wish we actually decided to do that for FX... then again, audience... argh. Nevermind.

Don't you hate intellectual shit? They're so intellectual that you wanna hit people on the head. GET IT ALREADY, YOU DUMBASS! Sigh.

Because I'm supposed to end this with a little bit of literary flare (and because I don't want you to leave this page with the word dumbass in mind), i'll leave you with a quote from one of my favorite books:

The End.

Because I can't get my thoughts straight...

I guess I'll tell my story straight--as in, in a narrative.

I'll separate the immersion 'coz it's a bit more... reflective. naks.

So Thursday started pretty well in a sense. I had the school bus drop me off in front of Ash Creek. I was wearing casual clothes, so I bet they were thinking I'm off to play hookie.

I walked from there all the way to Jollibee, that wretched restaurant. Yes, the class was meeting up there, and yet again I have proven its unworthiness of my presence. The coffee tastes like shit, but it's all good because they're at least keeping line with all their other shitty products.

Why'd I order coffee? Because I know their hot chocolate tastes like shit.

Adding more than enough packets of sugar and creamer, I came to the realization that I should've bought coffee from Delifrance next door. Besides the chicken and the tuna pie, what tastes good in Jollibee? I never really enjoyed the sauce of their burgers. Their ice cream is a wannabe of both McDonald's and Burger King's old clay-tasting vanilla flavor (which I enjoy. Sadly though, they've replaced their ice cream) that it comes off as something... ugh.

But why am I ranting about Jollibee?

I met up with almost the whole class there. Enjoyed the company.

We all eventually found ourselves in the MPC around a few before 8.

The retreat was refreshing. And I'm really glad it sort of "improved" our class unity, which we've been working on since like... doh. I don't think I'd want to spoil everything in here, so I'll keep most of the things secret.

I'm just glad our class got the best venue and the best teachers.

Speaking of teachers, we put one of them *ehemxehem* under the spotlight. I have to thank him... it's class unity. Who would've thought the whole class would actually make itself fit into one table. But he isn't alone in the list of people to thank. There's also *ehembarbehem* whose "presence" was truly felt in the room. (Inside joke? Oh, Xavier peeps should get this.)

Other events that took place include rape (no, not rape-rape, mind you!), a mania for gelato, the devouring of chocolate cakes (happy birthday kim and liboro!), overdressing Charles and a lot of love. Yes, a lot of love. :D

The retreat really was a great experience.

*

After which, Charles and I sped through Ortigas all the way to UA&P. We had our entrance interview exclusive to the people who chose Entrepreneurial Management. (sosyal, right?)

Inside the car, I was sipping on some Starbucks--not coffee, it was a shake,--Charles was bowing down in all directions with his eyes closed and his consciousness taken over. Charles's mom was passenger-seat driving, which did help in getting us there right away.

The interview went great, if I should say so myself. I'm accepted, undoubtedly.

(And so is Charles)

Confidence, check!

Loud voice and good accent, check!

Always being one of the first to answer, check!

Really creative answers, check!

Other people agreeing to your answers, check!

Everybody looking at you when you answer, check!

Interviewers smiling, check!

If I'm not accepted, that just probably means I'm not what they're looking for...

SCREW YOU THEN! I'm blue-blooded anyway. :P

The ride back home involved me staring out the window, Charles dozing off again and Charles's mom teasing me. Yes, she was insisting on my non-existent date with ICA. Why? We were headed back to that direction.

But no, I didn't go to ICA. I don't even know anyone from over there (bus mates and the two Edsor people, an exception) I went back to my beloved club. Naks.

*

Auditions were... exciting.

I guess that's all I need to say.

I'M DIRECTING. Aren't you proud? Hehe.

Oh! And someone's still ignoring me for no reason at all. :P

*

From there, I walked all the way with Keith to CJ's house.

Yet another birthday, isn't that nice? And on the eve of our big Chinese test, too. But that didn't stop us from taking a few... well no, that was a lot. Was it?

What can I say? It was overwhelming and a bit embarassing.

But it was fun nonetheless. I miss seeing people!

I was probably the earliest to leave since my test-loving father would detest to staying up late on the eve of a big test. I stayed up late anyway and watched only the awesome-st show ever. *you just keep me hanging oooooon....*

(That friggin' song has been stuck in my head for quite some time now.)

*

The evening later, I watched Spring Awakening with Artswork. Weee.

This time, instead of orchestra left, I was seated onstage right.

(Meaning instead of Melchi's butt from afar, I saw Wendla breasts upclose. And yes, it was exposed.)

Yes, I was seated on stage. Since I wanted to be close to the action (and probably close enough to grab a mic if somebody should accidentally fall down and become unfit to perform), I sat on the front row. However, the only seat left that wasn't too far away was the one directly above the stairs. So I looked like a little kid hugging my legs as my feet rested on the stairs that were unfortunately placed below me. I was having cramps, Gahd.

But whatever pain I had in sitting, I didn't experience with hearing. People say they can't hear anything, but I beg to disagree. Everything was loud and clear. In fact, I found it louder than when I was in the orchestra. It's just that the band overpowers some of the singers when they begin the slow soft--but never for more than 5 seconds.

I must say being on stage made the show much better. You could feel more intensity more up close, I guess. It's either that or because my expectations were already lowered.

Still the same problems as before, but the new perspective gave a whole new... well, perspective. (The former being physical view and the latter being opinion. Gahd, vocab!)

I have to say, the girls were wearing weird shoes. It had holes on the back side, so I guess that might be one reason behind the lack of stomping. Then again, it might not be. :P

I also forgot to comment before. The set's okay, but I was expecting something more modern. Just like how rock music, something modern and rebellious, is infused into the dated piece, I was wishing the set did the same. But, oh well.

*

The trip was quite an adventure.

Let's just say I was shocked to find a sign that read:

[Name of Bank]

South Super Highway Branch

Who wouldn't freak?

Well, I finally found myself back at Starbucks 6750, sipping on some Caramel Cream. Ha! Still no coffee. Hehe.

(I think I saw Mikee Lee--yeah, the Atenean from PBB--hanging out there.)

*

Anyhow, that's all I have for now. It's officially 12:00, and I am now going to retire. :D

Multiply, where art thou?

Wow. I haven't blogged in some time, which shouldn't be surprising since I haven't had any inspirational jolts of lightning striking me these past few days. (Did anyone notice if there was any thunder during supermegahyperultramatronic typhoon duo? Hmmm.)

It's quite depressing opening Multiply these days.

No one's on it anymore, which is friggin' depressing. Redundant? That's why it's depressing.

I remember the good ol' days when I'd spend more than an hour going through my Multiply site. I'd reach up to page four or something on my inbox, checking people's sh*t out. But now there's nothing to check out. Sigh. These days, you can almost see tumbleweeds bouncing across your screen.

Well. Let's see. Where did all the Multiply people (Mutiplyees? Multipliers? Multiplicatives? Factors?) go to? There's Facebook. That other social networking site, where people waste their days on random games that may cause grudges or carpal tunnel syndrome.

I don't like it there. I find I waste so much time on it when I could be doing so much other things. I hate their photo albums. Can't save pictures in high res, which sucks--like how you suck chupa-chups! What were you thinking?! And come on! Multiply had that tagging feature for as long as I can remember.

Those notes are good-for-nothing blog substitutes that just don't work. Scrap all the games and surveys, and I find there's nothing to do in Facebook. And you know it's true.

Then there's Twitter. Sigh. People are such in a hurry these days that, now, they only need 140 characters--or less--to complete their lives. What's up with the world these days? Soon, everybody will be supersonic speed dating that by the end of the week, they'll already be married only to realize that they want a divorce the Monday later. Nine months later though, the woman finds a child is coming out of her tw*t. Damn that supersonic quickie!

Hence I blame Twitter for the increasing divorce and population rates--or not.

I therefore conclude Miley Cyrus shall not end up pregnant anytime soon. (She quit Twitter, if you're that slow with the news.)

I'm guessing Tumblr can be added to the list too, huh?

Now, I therefore conclude people are losing their creative minds and have replaced them with anti-social ones. Where are all the blogs and albums and what-nots?

(Then again... what HAVE all these former Multiply people been posting anyway? I can't quite recall anymore. That's depressing.)

I'd blog longer. But I'm falling asleep on my chair already. Good night, ya'll! (echo...)

Needs Some Awakening

(Hey, Mr Legaspi. Don't want to be spoiled? Don't read it. :D)

Just a few hours ago, I watched Spring Awakening at the RCBC Plaza.

Orchestra seats, babeh! Hahaha! I was supposed to watch in the balcony, but some change of plans, and *poof* I was all alone at the very last seat of row H.

Around me were these strange people, who were either, a, crazy fans like me or, b, people who didn't know what to expect. I laughed at them in my head.

I just have to say the theater's lighting is friggin' awesome. Sigh. High-tech-ness.

Okay. Here's my review. Really... umm... detailed.

Spring Awakening.

Background: it's my favorite musical. And I really mean it.
Why? First, because it's radical: it's not your normal musical with whimsical music and sparkly numbers. Second, because I really connect with the story.

That said, I was quite disappointed watching its Manila premiere.

It's bearable, I guess. But it's not what I was hoping for, and definitely not the same show that I came to love.

Start with the choreography.

First of all, it was too extravagant. It's one of Broadway's most angst-ridden works, and you have hands and feet flying around like it was the fourth of July or something. I wish they retained the original, or if not, did something more suitable to the theme.

Second of all, it was as if they were afraid to break the stage or something, which I think would've been okay. They didn't feel what they were doing, and it's just came off as staged.

(To think the choreographer was the same one in charge of the ah-mazing dances in Dulaang UP's Orosman and Zafira.)

Only two songs made me tingle. Touch Me and Blue Wind.

Quite strange since I love most of the songs. Sigh. The sound system is partly to blame here. Yes, it was heard, but it was too weak for me to enjoy. (Then again, my iPod always blasts in my ear.) The instrumentalists also have something to do with it. I dunno, they didn't sound good. (Add to that, one of them accidentally set off some weird sound.)

Actors. Saddening. Really.

I guess I'm too in love with the original cast (Lea Michele! John Gallagher Jr! Jonathan Groff! Lauren Pritchard!). But even if that fact didn't exist, tonight's performances weren't all that engaging.

I was most depressed by the suicide scene. Why? Because it wasn't depressing.

That scene always, always makes me emo. Probably one of the few things that actually make tears fall down my cheeks. Sadly, it was rushed and disconnected. I didn't feel it.

In fact, I did not enjoy Nicco Manalo's portrayal of Moritz at all. Moritz just acts too weird, crazy and sorta gay. He smiled too much when it wasn't needed. And he sped through most of what could've been really funny/memorable lines.

Kelly Lati as Wendla wasn't all that amazing as well. As much as I loved her innocent-sounding voice, there wasn't much emotion in it. And also, she smiled too much in Whispering. What's up with that?

I guess my favorite performer in the show was Jett Pangan. Adult Male Roles.

Every character he portrayed was distinguishable from the other, and did quite well in each of them. (He flubbed in one line though. Hehe.)

I also enjoyed Bea Garcia as Ilse. (Yes, she's the director of BlueRep's not so interesting version of tick, tick... BOOM!) She has the strongest singing voice and she really did make the most of her character's short screen time. She hit all the right marks for me, so I have nothing else to say.

Another person I guess I'd like to commend is JC Santos as Hanschen. He may not have the best voice in there, but he made up for it with attitude. He knew how to work his character.

I guess what I was annoyed at the most was that the funny lines were breezed through while the dramatic lines were all smiley. How now, brown cow?

Well. I don't think I count this as a review. Too all over the place. I don't even have a conclusion. Hahaha! Maybe I'll make a more organized one when I get my thoughts in place... and when it's not 2am.

But yes. I am watching it again. Hehehe.

It's bearable enough for me. It's still my fave show brought here. And how often do you get to watch things onstage? :D

How Pepeng Screwed Up My Life

Hi once again, midnight crammers.

Yes. Pepeng screwed up my life. (No, I'm not pregnant)

I wonder why I named my title that. It's not as if I'm going to explain it. Why? Because I'm in a fucked up situation, and in situations like these, the story isn't a straight line. It's gay. You can't tell the story without confusing yourself with all the twists and turns.

No, my problem isn't about flooding and what not. Duh! Otherwise I would've named the blog How Pepeng Screwed Up My House. Or some other crappy title.

In a nutshell, the problem is that I dunno how I'm--rather my friends and I are--going to watch Spring Awakening. Since the storm scare cancelled our original date, I can't find good seats/a good date.

Argh.

If Pepeng makes a U-Turn, he's gonna get it from me. Im'ma punch him in the eye.

Sigh. I have all the scare messages to blame and, of course, the paranoia.

Who ever heard of hyperstorms anyway? Where'd they get that? Off a Pokemon game?

Seriously?

Oh crap. I wan'na flush it down the toilet.

Wish me luck. I hope I get to solve this problem... so I can get to watch my favorite musical. Wahaha!

P-p-p-paranoia

Hello people probably not affected by typhoon Pepeng.

How's the weather?

Don't you miss the sun? I do. I guess the lack of sunlight totally makes me unable to touch any piece of school work. Call me an inverted vampire if you will. That'd totally make me fit in to all the hype vampires have been making--or not.

But hey. There's no sun here.

I guess Edward Cullen or whathisname from True Blood probably just bought a rest house here. Awesome! Now the manananggals have friends!

In other news, I've been wasting my day(s) on some other creature of the night! Zombies.

Yes, my plants have been winning and all, but I still feel like my brain's being eaten. Oh noes.

I can't believe I've been such a cheat. (No, I'm not running in the coming elections.)

I wasted like almost an hour filling my Zen Garden with flowers. But hey, I'm making around a thousand dollars every few seconds or so, so who's complaining? Not me!

(Maybe I should run for a spot!)

Fine. I'll go do some homework... after this blog.

And I should prolly take a bath as well. (What? I woke up at 2pm. The weather's nice and cool. I still smell fresh. Hehe!)

But other than acts of botany and necrology, I've also been studying human psychology in relation to meteorology. I'm a scientist now! Or not.

Yes. I've been "observing"--if you want to call it that--people's reactions to Pepeng/Parma (That makes me hungry. I'm reminded of Parma ham. Delicious!), and most people are just paranoid. Or to put it in a term that sounds more fitting, PRANING.

Two storms merging? Are you kidding me? What's this, Voltes Five?

And ever since I got that GM, I've refused to believe in all the other friggin' messages. And I was right to do so. Last night's critical hour had me going wild. Seriously!

I was supposed to be enjoying Spring Awakening--Yes, that awesome rock musical about teenage angst that's being staged here in Manila for a limited time--when two problems suddenly got in my way, both of which caused by something called paranoia. Two problems? One, some friends were forbidden--or bribed--not to go. B, the show was ultimately cancelled. Gees. Thanks.

Oh! And I was rejoicing till no end when it was 9:00 critical hour and I found myself safe at home. Whoopee! Yeah...

(Well. At least those who weren't allowed can now be allowed. Gah.)

Where was I? Psychology, right.

People have been so affected by Ondoy, their cautiousness turned into Paranoia. Come on. Live a little. And don't believe in just about anything you hear. Check your sources. This one's mine: INQUIRER. Yes. It's a legitimate source. And yes, it basically tells you you've been spreading crap news to infest the whole internet with paranoia. Gahd.

Well, if there's one thing I learned, it's that my also-paranoid parents actually trust me enough to allow me to go out. They have confidence that I know what to do in a storm. I'm happy. *Teardrop* I could go star in "A Day After Tomorrow" now.

In other not so significant news, I think the typhoon has sucked any ideas from me. So far, I've been too lazy to blog for my hundreddays character. I should probably blog that a vampire suddenly bit him, and he's now suddenly cast in some brand new television show ripped off of a book about vampires.

I think I've run out of things to sa--OH LOOK! I just earned $30,000 in one hour. That's one bite of chocolate for the snail that's not so stinky. I'm rich. Don't you just love this game.

So there. I think I've said it all.

Happy Cold Weather, Everyone!

PS.

How's my experimental writing style?

I think too much zombies have eaten my brain... either that or plants are starting to grow on it. Either way, It's something new. What do you think?