Two words: Weblog. The movie.
Trippy visuals brought to you by the blog formerly known as waeguk is not a soup.
Sunday, July 28
"Ang Galing Galing Mo Babes" is an anomaly. The trailer is all dark chase and sweaty makeout scenes with suspense music, then comes the saccharine title that makes you think of a teen romantic comedy. And that's not the only weird thing about it. If you look at the poster, it reminds you so much of the previous Albert Martinez, Joyce Jimenez starrer "Scorpio Nights 2." Which got an x rating, same as this one. Sticking to a known, successful formula?
Also, AGGMB is produced by Imus Productions, which is owned by the family of the current Video Regulatory Board chairperson Bong Revilla. Their first venture was the Assunta de Rossi starrer "Kilabot at Kembot." We are in safe hands. Ugh.
What people would do for fifty thousand pesos. Eat things you don't usually think is edible. Get close to cold clingy reptilians. Submerge yourself underwater. Try to fit your 130+ pound self inside a glass box less than a square yard in size. It's the new spice to your lunchtime viewing habit. Eat Bulaga's "Sige, ano kaya mo?" claims to showcase the "natatanging abilidad ng mga Pinoy." ["the unique capabilities of the Filipino."] Which ultimately translates to the general grossout risks people are willing to make so they could take home a whopping fifty thousand pesos.
Some weeks back, while I was having lunch with my mother, I happened to catch this woman named Vilma. The dare was harmless enough: the girl who could drink the most number of raw eggs wins. Now I've heard of the Sarsi plus raw egg regimen. Eggs are good for you. We eat them every morning. But when you're required to swallow a succession of slimey fresh eggs in just under 90 seconds is a challenge indeed. The first girls downed 9, then the next one managed 12, the last girl tried swallowing 2 eggs but spitted them out right away. But this woman Vilma downed 18 eggs in 90 seconds. They gave the contestants rock salt to eat as a "chaser." She won hands down.
Some days later, Vilma was around again with the rest of the week's other qualifiers. They had titles like "Sili King," "Hotdog King" [who won by stuffing the most number of raw hotdogs inside his mouth, without breaking any of them], and of course, Vilma the Itlog Queen. Their challenge was to go inside a cage full of cobras, and retrieve the most number of ribbons with their designated colors, provided that they didn't get immobilized by fear first. Again, Vilma beat the crap out of the various kings and won the challenge. Another fifty thousand for her.
Still some days later, I caught her in a more daring stunt. In front of each of the contestants was a steamed rat, with tail and feet and the fur stripped off. Yes, they were the edible kind. But field mice the size and look of your average canal denizen still isn't lunch time fare. The contestants cringed. They were given 2 minutes each to consume the most they could out of Mickey, and they could eat everything except for the tail and the feet. The first guy pretty much shoved everything down his maw in a minute and a half. He was asked afterwards to open his mouth to show that he did eat all of it. There were bits of flesh still on his teeth. Vilma didn't win.
The most cringe inducing challenges were really the eatouts. Frogs, an animal's tongue, raw eels, live shrimp -- the more alive and kicking the animal is, the more shock value for the audience. They frequently show people cringing, mouths hanging open in sheer disgust. Part of the segment's disclaimer says that all the contestants are of legal age, in their sane minds, and willing participants all, and that they did research and the stunts are inherently safe. After all, lots of people do line up to join so they can have a shot at the prize money.
This is just a segment on a noontime show. I wouldn't be surprised if one of these days a spinoff could appear on primetime: lengthier and more daring, not to add production friendly. There is after all, a precedent to it -- "Pinoy Exposed" on ABS-CBN, where your ordinary Pinoys "showcase" their special talents to walk on live coals, swallow nails, snails, broken bits of glass. I used to cringe everytime and proclaim that this is the level local television has stooped down to. But this was before "Fear Factor" changed the landscape of television.
There is an article on the New York Times on this current downscaling of television. In their side, "alternative" shows is the answer to even out production costs between the high brow (think David E. Kelley, or West Wing) and the low brow (Fear Factor, Dog Eat Dog). Whereas "Friends" accounts for a higher overhead for its actors, the pedestrians that appear on these reality shows get paid a one-shot deal million. (Plus the possibility of posing for Playboy or something). In the Philippine scene, substitute your costly soap opera or sine novela/teleserye -- since it's not hip to just term it "soap" anymore, and you get the picture.
Television executives reason that the audience reared on MTV and game shows is the reason for this shift. Everyone wants reality now. You audition normal people, stick them in the outback, follow them with a video cam ala Survivor. It's a "Real World" crossed with Nickelodeon's "Double Dare" sort of show. This sort of show doesn't really require many script drafts or production design.
Except that here, while we do have the glossier reality shows like "Single" or "The Exchange" -- both from ABC-5, it's really the grossout shows like Pinoy Exposed or the noontime show segments like "Sakmo" that get the most following. "Alternative programming" is supposed to bridge the gap between high brow and low brow audiences. But it's dwindling now to getting the most number of low budget shows out there. The stupid human tricks department is winning. Yes, mainstream tv is all about pandering to the audience's lowest common denominator. A show, in order to pull in the ratings and the advertisers, has to appeal to all the whole household plus the neighbors and your yaya's cousin. From low taste to no taste is the order of the day.
And while it's extremely bad form to have someone eating raw, live animals in your dining room while you're having lunch, you can't do anything about it except look away and hope that this too, like the three seasons of Survivor or Who Wants to be a Millionaire, shall pass.
Some weeks back, while I was having lunch with my mother, I happened to catch this woman named Vilma. The dare was harmless enough: the girl who could drink the most number of raw eggs wins. Now I've heard of the Sarsi plus raw egg regimen. Eggs are good for you. We eat them every morning. But when you're required to swallow a succession of slimey fresh eggs in just under 90 seconds is a challenge indeed. The first girls downed 9, then the next one managed 12, the last girl tried swallowing 2 eggs but spitted them out right away. But this woman Vilma downed 18 eggs in 90 seconds. They gave the contestants rock salt to eat as a "chaser." She won hands down.
Some days later, Vilma was around again with the rest of the week's other qualifiers. They had titles like "Sili King," "Hotdog King" [who won by stuffing the most number of raw hotdogs inside his mouth, without breaking any of them], and of course, Vilma the Itlog Queen. Their challenge was to go inside a cage full of cobras, and retrieve the most number of ribbons with their designated colors, provided that they didn't get immobilized by fear first. Again, Vilma beat the crap out of the various kings and won the challenge. Another fifty thousand for her.
Still some days later, I caught her in a more daring stunt. In front of each of the contestants was a steamed rat, with tail and feet and the fur stripped off. Yes, they were the edible kind. But field mice the size and look of your average canal denizen still isn't lunch time fare. The contestants cringed. They were given 2 minutes each to consume the most they could out of Mickey, and they could eat everything except for the tail and the feet. The first guy pretty much shoved everything down his maw in a minute and a half. He was asked afterwards to open his mouth to show that he did eat all of it. There were bits of flesh still on his teeth. Vilma didn't win.
The most cringe inducing challenges were really the eatouts. Frogs, an animal's tongue, raw eels, live shrimp -- the more alive and kicking the animal is, the more shock value for the audience. They frequently show people cringing, mouths hanging open in sheer disgust. Part of the segment's disclaimer says that all the contestants are of legal age, in their sane minds, and willing participants all, and that they did research and the stunts are inherently safe. After all, lots of people do line up to join so they can have a shot at the prize money.
This is just a segment on a noontime show. I wouldn't be surprised if one of these days a spinoff could appear on primetime: lengthier and more daring, not to add production friendly. There is after all, a precedent to it -- "Pinoy Exposed" on ABS-CBN, where your ordinary Pinoys "showcase" their special talents to walk on live coals, swallow nails, snails, broken bits of glass. I used to cringe everytime and proclaim that this is the level local television has stooped down to. But this was before "Fear Factor" changed the landscape of television.
There is an article on the New York Times on this current downscaling of television. In their side, "alternative" shows is the answer to even out production costs between the high brow (think David E. Kelley, or West Wing) and the low brow (Fear Factor, Dog Eat Dog). Whereas "Friends" accounts for a higher overhead for its actors, the pedestrians that appear on these reality shows get paid a one-shot deal million. (Plus the possibility of posing for Playboy or something). In the Philippine scene, substitute your costly soap opera or sine novela/teleserye -- since it's not hip to just term it "soap" anymore, and you get the picture.
Television executives reason that the audience reared on MTV and game shows is the reason for this shift. Everyone wants reality now. You audition normal people, stick them in the outback, follow them with a video cam ala Survivor. It's a "Real World" crossed with Nickelodeon's "Double Dare" sort of show. This sort of show doesn't really require many script drafts or production design.
Except that here, while we do have the glossier reality shows like "Single" or "The Exchange" -- both from ABC-5, it's really the grossout shows like Pinoy Exposed or the noontime show segments like "Sakmo" that get the most following. "Alternative programming" is supposed to bridge the gap between high brow and low brow audiences. But it's dwindling now to getting the most number of low budget shows out there. The stupid human tricks department is winning. Yes, mainstream tv is all about pandering to the audience's lowest common denominator. A show, in order to pull in the ratings and the advertisers, has to appeal to all the whole household plus the neighbors and your yaya's cousin. From low taste to no taste is the order of the day.
And while it's extremely bad form to have someone eating raw, live animals in your dining room while you're having lunch, you can't do anything about it except look away and hope that this too, like the three seasons of Survivor or Who Wants to be a Millionaire, shall pass.
Friday, July 26
Thursday, July 25
Things I Wish You Knew*
1. I like it when you take off your shoes when you’re driving.
2. Kermit and Kyle are okay. I think they deserve to rest after all the things I put them through. Thank you for asking.
3. Don’t be upset when I call you my Troy Dyer. Because I mean that in a very good way. Yes, I know it’s a Hollywood movie, and we’re no longer in the 90s, but hey, they have a neat soundtrack. Plus we can’t all be Winona Ryder.
4. You have this oddly endearing way of wiggling your eyebrows and smiling whenever there’s a pause in conversation.
5. I really don’t care if you’re 24, 31 or 17.
6. I’m already being sarcastic when I say “hope to see you in the current millenium.” I understand that we all have our different lives to live, and I don’t mind that. It’s just that sometimes I do want to spend time with you more than the five minutes it takes to walk from the grocery to the carpark. (Or should I erase this now? I guess I should. Hmm.)
7. I miss flirting with you.
8. I can never be as kikay as you might want me to be. I can only be myself. It takes effort to do all the girly things, and I’m afraid that I was born without the kikay gene. So you will have to bear with me.
9. There is no need to explain yourself to me. You don’t have to.
10. I wish we can be less formal. I enjoy goofing around, and I would like to see you laugh more often.
11. Ü, wala lang.
12. You look hot in leather pants, but you’re even more foxy (I think) when you’re wearing cargoes and sneakers.
13. Yes, sometimes I can be like that, and you wouldn’t know what hit you. I hope you don’t mind.
14. It’s not everyday that someone tells me “I’m listening to Brahms’ Adaggio, and I think of you.”
15. I’m not going to kick you or anything if you try to hold my hand. Really, I won’t.
16. I don’t like the word “settle.” I am here because I want to.
[borrowed from quantum tunnels, bottledbliss]
*I don’t know if you’ll be reading this. But just so you know that it’s not always that list going on in my head, okay?
1. I like it when you take off your shoes when you’re driving.
2. Kermit and Kyle are okay. I think they deserve to rest after all the things I put them through. Thank you for asking.
3. Don’t be upset when I call you my Troy Dyer. Because I mean that in a very good way. Yes, I know it’s a Hollywood movie, and we’re no longer in the 90s, but hey, they have a neat soundtrack. Plus we can’t all be Winona Ryder.
4. You have this oddly endearing way of wiggling your eyebrows and smiling whenever there’s a pause in conversation.
5. I really don’t care if you’re 24, 31 or 17.
6. I’m already being sarcastic when I say “hope to see you in the current millenium.” I understand that we all have our different lives to live, and I don’t mind that. It’s just that sometimes I do want to spend time with you more than the five minutes it takes to walk from the grocery to the carpark. (Or should I erase this now? I guess I should. Hmm.)
7. I miss flirting with you.
8. I can never be as kikay as you might want me to be. I can only be myself. It takes effort to do all the girly things, and I’m afraid that I was born without the kikay gene. So you will have to bear with me.
9. There is no need to explain yourself to me. You don’t have to.
10. I wish we can be less formal. I enjoy goofing around, and I would like to see you laugh more often.
11. Ü, wala lang.
12. You look hot in leather pants, but you’re even more foxy (I think) when you’re wearing cargoes and sneakers.
13. Yes, sometimes I can be like that, and you wouldn’t know what hit you. I hope you don’t mind.
14. It’s not everyday that someone tells me “I’m listening to Brahms’ Adaggio, and I think of you.”
15. I’m not going to kick you or anything if you try to hold my hand. Really, I won’t.
16. I don’t like the word “settle.” I am here because I want to.
[borrowed from quantum tunnels, bottledbliss]
*I don’t know if you’ll be reading this. But just so you know that it’s not always that list going on in my head, okay?
It’s been a year of kantogirlblues. Since my first post, the E-heads now have a girl vocalist, Twisted is off the air now, my brother still attends this cult (or whatever he wants to call it) in Pampanga, and I dig Fight Club even more. I still get questions like “Why is your blog called kantogirl?” So I figured I’ll get it out of the way already, and see where things are at after twelve months of blogging.
Why kantogirl?
Because it’s better than “Up yours, dude” and more interesting than “This is my blog.” It’s like choosing a band name, only that I’m alone and I don’t play any instruments.
But seriously though, a kantogirl is what I aspire to be someday: streetsmart, capable of handling herself, kickass. My mother is a practical, smart woman. She didn’t want me to grow up school smart and yet unable to do simple things like frying an egg, doing the laundry, or that I’ll break into tears if I had the misfortune of getting lost and alone somewhere in the city. I can cook, do my laundry, and find my way back home. But I’m still way below the level of cunning that my mother wants me to achieve.
I also think it’s her way of compensating for the fact that I didn’t get to play with the other kids in the streets. I can’t ride bikes, I didn’t play Chinese garter, all my playmates were adults. I went to school at age 3. It’s a recipe for a wuss in the making. I don’t think she’d be happy if her daughter turned out to be one. Then of course, she’s also after me to behave a little more, uhm, girly. She used to say I walked like Robin Padilla, and it’s not a compliment. She’s happier now. I can stay upright on heeled shoes, walk up four flights of stairs and not fall flat on my face.
What’s the purpose of your blog?
Nothing. This is not where you can find the meaning of life, the answer to how to build a strong republic, or how to to make a decent flower arrangement. Nor is this the venue to gather chismis about the blogger’s personal life. I am not your salvation. Although if you insist on worshipping me and giving me lots of expensive stuff, I wouldn’t mind that either. I would want to gain notoriety though. In what way, I am still devising plans.
When you’re not blogging, what do you do to fill up your time?
I have a day job as a network hack. I don’t keep a 9-to-5 routine, nor do I sit in a cubicle. It’s more like a no-hours, all-hours sort of gig. For the past two years I’ve done a crime show, a drama anthology, with stints in a horror/comedy thing and a short lived Singaporean “dramedy” miniseries. Right now, I’m doing teen show. It’s more difficult to pull off than sex and violence.
But the job is necessary so I can do my other stuff, i.e., watch a lot of movies, read books, listen to CDs, prawl the net, walk around. I get together with my friends to watch more movies, eat out, drink lots of coffee and bitch about our lives. I do mundane, mindless stuff around the house like laundry and scrubbing floors. My life is boring. I drink milk. Sometimes I talk to cats.
If you would like to know more useless information than you actually need, drop me a line here.
Why kantogirl?
Because it’s better than “Up yours, dude” and more interesting than “This is my blog.” It’s like choosing a band name, only that I’m alone and I don’t play any instruments.
But seriously though, a kantogirl is what I aspire to be someday: streetsmart, capable of handling herself, kickass. My mother is a practical, smart woman. She didn’t want me to grow up school smart and yet unable to do simple things like frying an egg, doing the laundry, or that I’ll break into tears if I had the misfortune of getting lost and alone somewhere in the city. I can cook, do my laundry, and find my way back home. But I’m still way below the level of cunning that my mother wants me to achieve.
I also think it’s her way of compensating for the fact that I didn’t get to play with the other kids in the streets. I can’t ride bikes, I didn’t play Chinese garter, all my playmates were adults. I went to school at age 3. It’s a recipe for a wuss in the making. I don’t think she’d be happy if her daughter turned out to be one. Then of course, she’s also after me to behave a little more, uhm, girly. She used to say I walked like Robin Padilla, and it’s not a compliment. She’s happier now. I can stay upright on heeled shoes, walk up four flights of stairs and not fall flat on my face.
What’s the purpose of your blog?
Nothing. This is not where you can find the meaning of life, the answer to how to build a strong republic, or how to to make a decent flower arrangement. Nor is this the venue to gather chismis about the blogger’s personal life. I am not your salvation. Although if you insist on worshipping me and giving me lots of expensive stuff, I wouldn’t mind that either. I would want to gain notoriety though. In what way, I am still devising plans.
When you’re not blogging, what do you do to fill up your time?
I have a day job as a network hack. I don’t keep a 9-to-5 routine, nor do I sit in a cubicle. It’s more like a no-hours, all-hours sort of gig. For the past two years I’ve done a crime show, a drama anthology, with stints in a horror/comedy thing and a short lived Singaporean “dramedy” miniseries. Right now, I’m doing teen show. It’s more difficult to pull off than sex and violence.
But the job is necessary so I can do my other stuff, i.e., watch a lot of movies, read books, listen to CDs, prawl the net, walk around. I get together with my friends to watch more movies, eat out, drink lots of coffee and bitch about our lives. I do mundane, mindless stuff around the house like laundry and scrubbing floors. My life is boring. I drink milk. Sometimes I talk to cats.
If you would like to know more useless information than you actually need, drop me a line here.
I didn’t realize that there’s a full moon outside. I’m always wonky when there’s a full moon. It’s either I freak out or withdraw. Today I was more into the subdued withdrawal thing. Then again, some people who have been at the receiving end of unrelenting bitchiness would say that I’m freaking out more these days. My apologies. I’m not always an emotional blackhole. Only when all things happen at once.
Also, thanks to everyone who sent words of support, hugs, songs or whatever. Things are fine now, I think.
Also, thanks to everyone who sent words of support, hugs, songs or whatever. Things are fine now, I think.
I spent most of today chasing Alfonso Cuaron, or rather his movies. I was browsing the news this morning and I find out that he’s taking over Chris Columbus as director for the third installment of the Harry Potter series. (Not that I give a flying fig about Harry Potter, but hey it should be better with Cuaron at the helm.) Plus I’m looking forward to the start Cine Manila already because I want to watch Y Tu Mama Tambien. So to prepare, I thought it would be nice if I watched Great Expectations, the one with Ethan Hawke and (ick!) Gwyneth Paltrow. I’m not much of a Paltrow fan, but the film was supposed to be very visual, and there’s a Mono song somewhere in the soundtrack. If there’s one thing to be thankful for, this film came ahead of Gwyneth’s “Wanna hear me sing?” phase. Life in Monotones would have been it. Shudder.
There are tons of copies of “A Little Princess.” I’ve had enough of Sarah Crewe in high school, thank you. Instead, I got “When Harry Met Sally” and “My Best Friend’s Wedding” as part of my cheer up movie binge. I found Abi her Joy Luck Club video. She went around HK looking for that and I find it here, in SM City North. And there’s still no trace of Great Expectations anywhere. I mean, come on, it can’t be out of stock in the whole metropolis right? Did an Ethan fan buy them all? [If you find a copy somewhere, please hurl it over to my direction.] Then I walked into the supersized Odyssey and the first album I saw was the soundtrack to Y Tu Mama Tambien. I resisted my urge to buy it. I already bought too many videos for today.
More good consumer purchases I’m proud of: I got Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried and Jamaica Kincaid’s At The Bottom of the River in a Booksale bin. Dirt cheap. Really down and dirty cheap. On the other hand, I’m poorer now. Feh.
There are tons of copies of “A Little Princess.” I’ve had enough of Sarah Crewe in high school, thank you. Instead, I got “When Harry Met Sally” and “My Best Friend’s Wedding” as part of my cheer up movie binge. I found Abi her Joy Luck Club video. She went around HK looking for that and I find it here, in SM City North. And there’s still no trace of Great Expectations anywhere. I mean, come on, it can’t be out of stock in the whole metropolis right? Did an Ethan fan buy them all? [If you find a copy somewhere, please hurl it over to my direction.] Then I walked into the supersized Odyssey and the first album I saw was the soundtrack to Y Tu Mama Tambien. I resisted my urge to buy it. I already bought too many videos for today.
More good consumer purchases I’m proud of: I got Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried and Jamaica Kincaid’s At The Bottom of the River in a Booksale bin. Dirt cheap. Really down and dirty cheap. On the other hand, I’m poorer now. Feh.
Wednesday, July 24
Okay, so I'm not exactly well versed in pop culture, so sue me. Or maybe I just wasn't a huge Saturday Fun Machine fan, or the thought of Jograd dela Torre, Kuya Germs and Ate Guy on Sunday nights makes me cringe, even as a child. But my mom was a Vilmanian, and the only choreographer I knew was Maribeth Bichara. And that lady is still dancing. Where are the Aldeguer sisters? Only Mark knows. Does that make me any less jologs?
Tuesday, July 23
Almost a Sona blog: Inq7 had this running account of the President's State of the Nation Address. Consider this:
We are leading to the "strong republic," she said. "It is not a given but a task, a product undertaken by the entire society. It is a shield with a strong arm to hold it up. It is an edifice where everyone should give the finest stones."
Yeah, yeah. But I would be more interested in reading what she really had in mind, like "Gee, I just hope the electric company doesn't pull a blackout on me. Wouldn't look good even after I did that cheesy commercial with the 'hey, we got a new electric fan because GMA lowered the PPA thing.' Or, "I knew I don't look smashing in orange. Feh."
We are leading to the "strong republic," she said. "It is not a given but a task, a product undertaken by the entire society. It is a shield with a strong arm to hold it up. It is an edifice where everyone should give the finest stones."
Yeah, yeah. But I would be more interested in reading what she really had in mind, like "Gee, I just hope the electric company doesn't pull a blackout on me. Wouldn't look good even after I did that cheesy commercial with the 'hey, we got a new electric fan because GMA lowered the PPA thing.' Or, "I knew I don't look smashing in orange. Feh."
Monday, July 22
Basically you could be stressful easily:
Luckily you are a straightforward person always voice your concerns. Some of the stress would then be released. Watch you mouth since you possibly over-express which would cause others unhappy.Hello Kitty's syntax is weird, to say the very least. And she has the gall to comment on my psychological well being. That's it. I'm stressing now because of them lousy grammar.
Then stress comes back to you again. For this type try aromatherapy will come you down.
Friday, July 19
Went to the Rhyme and Rhythms gig at Greenbelt. F. Sionil Jose is the man. He didn’t really read any poetry, just an excerpt from a story (or something like that, I was floating out of my body due to sheer volume of the tea that I drank) and this anecdote:
There’s this oldtimer (Ilocano—I don’t know if it’s supposed to be more funny that way) who had his brother come over to California. The guy didn’t speak a word of English, so when he had to memorize his spiel so he could order food in the diner.
“Hotdog and coffee,” he repeated on the street as he walked, inside the bus, as he sat on his stool in the diner. He ordered hotdog and coffee for over a year. If you ate hotdog and coffee all the time, you could either lose all your tastebuds or burn your tongue.
So after some time, he asked his brother to teach him a new dish to order. “Okay. Just tell the waiter that you want a steak, mashed potatoes, string beans and onions.” So the guy mumbles this over and over in his head as he travelled from apartment to bus stop to diner. He sits on his stool in the bar. The waiter comes and asks him: “What will you have, sir?” Our guy orders, quite proud of his memory. “Steak, mashed potatoes, string beans and onions.” Then the waiter asks, “How do you like your steak sir?” “Steak, mashed potatoes, string beans, and onions.” “No, I was asking how you would like your steak done?” Our guy repeats his order again and again. Finally, he gets tired and says, “Hotdog and coffee.”
I think that was much funnier than Apa Ongpin’s neverending tale of the ordinary Pinoy guy who’s out to get laid. All the three variations of it. The guys from Dulaang Laboratoryo performed. Jocel says they rehearsed it on the same day of the show. But the “Adventures of Kwiki Kwekkwek” still brought the house down. As a finale, Mojofly performed. It was fun being out there with all those young people, although I do wish they get a place more apt for poetry readings. The foodcourt, no matter how nice, provides more distraction than anything. Between your food and Apa Ongpin, who would you choose? But still a great show.
There’s this oldtimer (Ilocano—I don’t know if it’s supposed to be more funny that way) who had his brother come over to California. The guy didn’t speak a word of English, so when he had to memorize his spiel so he could order food in the diner.
“Hotdog and coffee,” he repeated on the street as he walked, inside the bus, as he sat on his stool in the diner. He ordered hotdog and coffee for over a year. If you ate hotdog and coffee all the time, you could either lose all your tastebuds or burn your tongue.
So after some time, he asked his brother to teach him a new dish to order. “Okay. Just tell the waiter that you want a steak, mashed potatoes, string beans and onions.” So the guy mumbles this over and over in his head as he travelled from apartment to bus stop to diner. He sits on his stool in the bar. The waiter comes and asks him: “What will you have, sir?” Our guy orders, quite proud of his memory. “Steak, mashed potatoes, string beans and onions.” Then the waiter asks, “How do you like your steak sir?” “Steak, mashed potatoes, string beans, and onions.” “No, I was asking how you would like your steak done?” Our guy repeats his order again and again. Finally, he gets tired and says, “Hotdog and coffee.”
I think that was much funnier than Apa Ongpin’s neverending tale of the ordinary Pinoy guy who’s out to get laid. All the three variations of it. The guys from Dulaang Laboratoryo performed. Jocel says they rehearsed it on the same day of the show. But the “Adventures of Kwiki Kwekkwek” still brought the house down. As a finale, Mojofly performed. It was fun being out there with all those young people, although I do wish they get a place more apt for poetry readings. The foodcourt, no matter how nice, provides more distraction than anything. Between your food and Apa Ongpin, who would you choose? But still a great show.
From boyband to actor to real life action hero? This was all my mother talked about during dinner. Pedestrian consensus says that Sonny Parsons shouldn't be punished because he was just defending his family from thieves. The pro-gun activists are using this incident to point out that in this day and age, the ordinary citizen cannot rely on the authorities anymore to protect them. But when grey matter is splattered on the sidewalk and your neighbors think there's a movie shoot going on and don't do anything, what does that say about peace and security? It went down the drain along with the grey matter.
Thursday, July 18
Monday, July 15
You know things are going to get bloody horrible when you start ticking off a "Ten Things I Hate About You" list in your head. Add that to really damp weather damper than your spirits, and a general confusion as to how to answer the question "Are you taken?" You fumble. No, you are not one for fumbling. You like Michel Foucault. You want an order in things. You make a decision, it is after all, Bastille Day. So you stage a disentanglement in ten text messages. You now have a response to your question. Congratulations for a successful breakup.
Kantogirlblues will resume blogging when the war path clears. Now go out and hack the heads off people vote. Summer is ended and we are not yet saved.
Kantogirlblues will resume blogging when the war path clears. Now go out and
Sunday, July 14
I'm starting to get anxiety attacks. I think I've stayed too long indoors. I haven't seen much of the people I care about, and frankly, it bothers me. I need people and things to be a constant presence in my life, otherwise, I will forget. And forgetting is one of life's cruel little curses. I don't want to forget.
Saturday, July 13
Perfect accompaniment for rain filled days and nights: When love speaks, you have to be very quiet in case you fail to hear its soft voice. I am loving this so much, I hope I get this for my birthday next month. [wink wink, hehe] Alan Rickman reads Sonnet 130. Nothing like the sun indeed.
If you think going out this weekend is a great idea, think again. I just braved the winds and the high waters to get home this morning. I went to the booklaunch yesterday at the Vargas Museum in UP, and arrived there drenched. Surprisingly, the turnout at that event was very high. Well, good for them.
But the reason I braved the typhoons was because I was meeting up with the angas people for a little send off dinner for Astrid, who didn't catch the program at all. She is leaving for Thailand today for the puppet festival thingie with the Teatrong Mulat. We had dinner at Mang Jimmy's, whom we discovered to be a cool ponytail wearing guy. Dennis and Jol had to scoot someplace else. Astrid, Pepper, Arlyn, Butch and me repaired to Khas so we could be with the "night jam" girls. The servers there are very nice, and they wear nice floral patterned aprons which I really wanted to snatch so I could turn it into a skirt. But the tea was good, and we had a hoot trying to make go a guessing game which somehow ended up to the duo of Billy Joe[y de Leon?] and Kuya Germs. Fun, fun.
The rains were too much though. We could barely see past the headlights. Had to spend the night at Astrid's and helped her squeeze her tabo in her already bursting luggage. We started early today because she had to be at the airport by 11a.m. Well, good luck, girl. Hopefully Bangkok wouldn't be any wetter than this.
But the reason I braved the typhoons was because I was meeting up with the angas people for a little send off dinner for Astrid, who didn't catch the program at all. She is leaving for Thailand today for the puppet festival thingie with the Teatrong Mulat. We had dinner at Mang Jimmy's, whom we discovered to be a cool ponytail wearing guy. Dennis and Jol had to scoot someplace else. Astrid, Pepper, Arlyn, Butch and me repaired to Khas so we could be with the "night jam" girls. The servers there are very nice, and they wear nice floral patterned aprons which I really wanted to snatch so I could turn it into a skirt. But the tea was good, and we had a hoot trying to make go a guessing game which somehow ended up to the duo of Billy Joe[y de Leon?] and Kuya Germs. Fun, fun.
The rains were too much though. We could barely see past the headlights. Had to spend the night at Astrid's and helped her squeeze her tabo in her already bursting luggage. We started early today because she had to be at the airport by 11a.m. Well, good luck, girl. Hopefully Bangkok wouldn't be any wetter than this.
Friday, July 12
So last Saturday's episode rated higher than any of the prime time shows in a long, long while. Why then is everyone so blase about it? Like hello people, we've been scoring higher from 16, 17, 18, 18, 20. Then comes the 24. Which was my bawi episode. Remember the one they trashed? So we replaced it. And it got a friggin high rating. I suppose everyone is pressured now to maintain it.
I really hate it that all that matters now is the numbers that we're getting. I really hate it that to be taken seriously, I must deck myself in the proper grown up garb and smile at everyone. It doesn't have to be that way. Now if only I can move to Asteroid B-612.
Of course, it's also possible I'm just being stubborn. Yes, so we have no choice but to grow up and swallow the bull? I don't think so. There must be an alternative somewhere.
I really hate it that all that matters now is the numbers that we're getting. I really hate it that to be taken seriously, I must deck myself in the proper grown up garb and smile at everyone. It doesn't have to be that way. Now if only I can move to Asteroid B-612.
Of course, it's also possible I'm just being stubborn. Yes, so we have no choice but to grow up and swallow the bull? I don't think so. There must be an alternative somewhere.
Been trying to be productive but my brain refuses to cooperate. Tried sitting in front of computer fiddling with various unfinished writing stuff, no go. So I picked up books. I already gave up on Slaughterhouse-Five, As I Lay Dying and The Player. I can't even get past 15 pages of Adrian Mole. Brain still refuses to understand paragraphs. This reminds me so much of the time I had to read Joseph Conrad and Jane Austen for a class. Conrad for the constipated, ugh. I managed to plough through Heart of Darkness because I had to, and my paper was running late then. But Jane Austen? So I switched to videos. Snatch currently holds the "most watched title credits" award for me. I can't just get past the credits and the first several minutes. I just stare at the screen and watch their mouths move. And the accents just fly through.
The only productive thing I've done since the weekend was writing my resume. Yes, folks, I now have a resume. I never had to write one before.
The only productive thing I've done since the weekend was writing my resume. Yes, folks, I now have a resume. I never had to write one before.
Tuesday, July 9
This is my blogchalk: Hello. I am Jessel. I'm 22 and I speak English and Filipino, with some kantogirl Tagalog thrown in. I live in the Philippines, in the sometimes beautiful, sometimes time space warped city of Manila. I can trace my family back four generations in the town of Pandacan, which sits just a stone's throw away from Malacañan. How's that for a blogchalk? Will it work?
I just so hate PLDT right now. In the past week, our landline went dead several times. First time it happened, I was out most of the weekend so I didn't even know our phone line was dead. I only found out about it Monday afternoon. I was trying to connect to the net but kept getting a "Please check if the modem or phone line is properly connected." I thought it was a modem problem, then was utterly surprised when I picked up the phone and, surprise, no dial tone. I was forced to go to a net cafe on the night before I had to go out of town just to get important email. The folks at home took charge of reporting it to the phone company, who only sent their people the following day, a Tuesday.
It was working fine when I came back Thursday. Worked fine at the start of the weekend. By Sunday, the line was raspy and very sick. You could hear it cough and sneeze its way, with lots of static in between. Yesterday it dropped dead. Then my headwriter called asking me to download and read some stuff for today's meeting. Which I couldn't do last night because the phone was dead, it was raining hard with winds at 157kph, making it a bit impossible to trek out and find myself an internet cafe.
I know some of you would probably be raising a huge stick over my head for being such a brat and whining at the loss of my precious middle class luxury. Yes, I know we are experiencing a typhoon -- no, make that 2 weather disturbances. I know people have lost their homes, their livelihoods, their loved ones.
But when selfishness strikes, all you care about is how things are not going your way. Now I wouldn't have minded it much if a phone line wasn't an absolute necessity in my line of work. I wouldn't have minded it much if the weather was fine and this happened. I would just blame the phone company's inefficiency. I wouldn't have minded it much if I hadn't spent the last 6 days at home. But the phone dropping dead twice in a week in the space of several days, at such a crucial time is not just an inconvenience. I was at absolute mercy of the weather, the phone company, my deadline, my boredom. And I couldn't do anything. The futility of it all just bugs me.
It was working fine when I came back Thursday. Worked fine at the start of the weekend. By Sunday, the line was raspy and very sick. You could hear it cough and sneeze its way, with lots of static in between. Yesterday it dropped dead. Then my headwriter called asking me to download and read some stuff for today's meeting. Which I couldn't do last night because the phone was dead, it was raining hard with winds at 157kph, making it a bit impossible to trek out and find myself an internet cafe.
I know some of you would probably be raising a huge stick over my head for being such a brat and whining at the loss of my precious middle class luxury. Yes, I know we are experiencing a typhoon -- no, make that 2 weather disturbances. I know people have lost their homes, their livelihoods, their loved ones.
But when selfishness strikes, all you care about is how things are not going your way. Now I wouldn't have minded it much if a phone line wasn't an absolute necessity in my line of work. I wouldn't have minded it much if the weather was fine and this happened. I would just blame the phone company's inefficiency. I wouldn't have minded it much if I hadn't spent the last 6 days at home. But the phone dropping dead twice in a week in the space of several days, at such a crucial time is not just an inconvenience. I was at absolute mercy of the weather, the phone company, my deadline, my boredom. And I couldn't do anything. The futility of it all just bugs me.
Sunday, July 7
You know you're obssessed about something really bad when both your wallpaper and your screensaver comes from this one elusive girl.
Plus I'm really antsy right now because this is my fourth straight day indoors. Come to think of it, I've spent most of the week indoors. I did go out of town, but mostly to stay inside our hotel rooms and bust our brains out thinking. Our only trips out in the overcast outdoors consist of walks down the winding pathway to the restaurant for meals. Sometimes, the view comes from staring out the van window. I feel so sun deprived.
Plus I'm really antsy right now because this is my fourth straight day indoors. Come to think of it, I've spent most of the week indoors. I did go out of town, but mostly to stay inside our hotel rooms and bust our brains out thinking. Our only trips out in the overcast outdoors consist of walks down the winding pathway to the restaurant for meals. Sometimes, the view comes from staring out the van window. I feel so sun deprived.
Friday, July 5
Thursday, July 4
I didn't get to watch Amelie. Now I will have to wait for the rerun at the UP Film Center. Which is fine with me. Otherwise, I would have resorted to hijacking Clarissa's VCD copy. Speaking of the French Filmfest, the number of films I get to watch seem to decrease year by year. I think I only saw around 5 movies this year. I tried posting comments about one of the film over at IMDB, and you can find it here.
Just got back from our brainstorming thingie in Lake Caliraya. I didn't know it was a lake, I was told we were going to a resort, and I assumed it was in Batangas instead of Laguna, and I didn't know it was going to be raining and cold. It took us four hours to get there, and part of the route was a climb around mountains I thought we were going to Baguio. We stayed in Lagos del Sol. It's a really nice place, like a mixture of Camp John Hay, a beach resort only that instead of sand the shore is sort of reddish soil. Somebody told me that Caliraya is an artificial lake. I didn't see the huge blue pipe that brings the water there, but they're building a dam now. [Also, if you would want to see the place, you better go now. I was told that they'll be closing down for ten months prepare for a Hollywood production involving Tom Cruise.]
The huts sit on the slope, with cobblestone paths that let you walk into thick foliage. I took a walk with one of the other writers, and we got caught in the rain. We took refuge on the veranda of one of the huts and talked school. We took the same course in college but didn't run into each other until a couple of years ago. Warning though: I would hate to take a walk through those woods at night. You have to either ride the van or walk down the pathway in order to get to the restaurant. If you walk, even with the lights and all, it's still freaking eerie. There's a buddha statue beside a pond somewhere there, and when you pass by, it feels like the statue is staring at you. Plus there's this feeling that I'd rather walk by the sea than a lake that is not moving, but somehow lets you feel that there's something there underneath. That lake may be artificial, but who knows what sort of mutant there is breeding underneath, right? I'm jumpy.
The huts sit on the slope, with cobblestone paths that let you walk into thick foliage. I took a walk with one of the other writers, and we got caught in the rain. We took refuge on the veranda of one of the huts and talked school. We took the same course in college but didn't run into each other until a couple of years ago. Warning though: I would hate to take a walk through those woods at night. You have to either ride the van or walk down the pathway in order to get to the restaurant. If you walk, even with the lights and all, it's still freaking eerie. There's a buddha statue beside a pond somewhere there, and when you pass by, it feels like the statue is staring at you. Plus there's this feeling that I'd rather walk by the sea than a lake that is not moving, but somehow lets you feel that there's something there underneath. That lake may be artificial, but who knows what sort of mutant there is breeding underneath, right? I'm jumpy.
Monday, July 1
Thanks to all the people who liked my new layout. I'll tweak it some more when I get free time on my hands again. Maybe then I'll be able to install the blogback. Was waiting for hours for the opening at YACCS, then got absorbed surfing, when I checked the site again, they're over quota for the day already. Blech.
Btw, I really wasn't able to do anything of my to do list last Friday. I missed the Pinoybloggers EB, Batang Westside and the concert. Good slave worker me tried to finish her deadline by Friday night, and when I was finally done, was too tired to go out.
Saturday, I went to Malate to meet a friend. I like the Starbucks along Adriatico. It looks like a greenhouse. It's glass and green steel. Cozy place, with a garden outside. It was raining a bit, and my only fear was: Wouldn't the glass cave it if it poured harder? Malate was alive that afternoon because of the Pride March. Got to see some of the floats as they passed by the cafe. Later, I met up with some friends at Cafea in Puerta Isabel in Intramuros. We were the first ones to arrive in Sanctum for the Cynthia Alexander gig, and we had so much fun we were also the last ones to leave.
Then one of the girls offered us breakfast. I had no idea where we were headed. I was dozing off in Ross's van and freaked out a bit when I saw the "Welcome to Cavite" sign. But we didn't go to Cavite. It was still part of Manila. Man, I didn't realize it would be so far. We had breakfast and coffee and more talk. We left the place at around ten o'clock the next morning. Had lunch. Finally got home around noon, dozed off. For some reason, my instinct told me to grab my mobile phone. There was a message from one of the writers that last Sunday, June 30, was the tax deduction waiver thingie deadline. I had to rush to the network within the hour to beat it. So now I don't have enough sleep. I'm grouchy. Forgive me.
Btw, I really wasn't able to do anything of my to do list last Friday. I missed the Pinoybloggers EB, Batang Westside and the concert. Good slave worker me tried to finish her deadline by Friday night, and when I was finally done, was too tired to go out.
Saturday, I went to Malate to meet a friend. I like the Starbucks along Adriatico. It looks like a greenhouse. It's glass and green steel. Cozy place, with a garden outside. It was raining a bit, and my only fear was: Wouldn't the glass cave it if it poured harder? Malate was alive that afternoon because of the Pride March. Got to see some of the floats as they passed by the cafe. Later, I met up with some friends at Cafea in Puerta Isabel in Intramuros. We were the first ones to arrive in Sanctum for the Cynthia Alexander gig, and we had so much fun we were also the last ones to leave.
Then one of the girls offered us breakfast. I had no idea where we were headed. I was dozing off in Ross's van and freaked out a bit when I saw the "Welcome to Cavite" sign. But we didn't go to Cavite. It was still part of Manila. Man, I didn't realize it would be so far. We had breakfast and coffee and more talk. We left the place at around ten o'clock the next morning. Had lunch. Finally got home around noon, dozed off. For some reason, my instinct told me to grab my mobile phone. There was a message from one of the writers that last Sunday, June 30, was the tax deduction waiver thingie deadline. I had to rush to the network within the hour to beat it. So now I don't have enough sleep. I'm grouchy. Forgive me.
I was listening to the AM radio [on RMN, I think] while having lunch this afternoon and their news for the hour was about the fleeing giraffe story I posted about a while back. It was weird hearing about it, in AM radio, and they sounded so serious. Well, it took them at least a few days to get that story covered.
I missed the Amelie screening this afternoon and ended up watching "A Walk to Remember." Amelie was nowhere to be found in Megamall and it's only Monday. And since I'll be out of town, shanghaied somewhere in the south, I dread that it'll be totally gone from the theaters by the time I get back. I like Mandy Moore better as a brunette, and she's not as annoying as Britney. Sappy movie, and so chaste. Mandy Moore gets everything. Plus, did anyone notice that when she told Shane West she's dying, because she has *gasp* leukemia, and a couple of scenes later, Shane West is knocking down his dad's door and tells him that his girlfriend's got cancer? I must have been bored.
My afternoon was redeemed by the "In the mood for love" trailer. Yay! I recognized the title credits and the ruins scene. So luscious. It's one of my favorite movies ever. I hope they'll be showing it real soon. In the meantime, check out the official website.
I missed the Amelie screening this afternoon and ended up watching "A Walk to Remember." Amelie was nowhere to be found in Megamall and it's only Monday. And since I'll be out of town, shanghaied somewhere in the south, I dread that it'll be totally gone from the theaters by the time I get back. I like Mandy Moore better as a brunette, and she's not as annoying as Britney. Sappy movie, and so chaste. Mandy Moore gets everything. Plus, did anyone notice that when she told Shane West she's dying, because she has *gasp* leukemia, and a couple of scenes later, Shane West is knocking down his dad's door and tells him that his girlfriend's got cancer? I must have been bored.
My afternoon was redeemed by the "In the mood for love" trailer. Yay! I recognized the title credits and the ruins scene. So luscious. It's one of my favorite movies ever. I hope they'll be showing it real soon. In the meantime, check out the official website.
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