burned out firechild

Bryanboy is a crazy and filthy rich fagboy who I lurk every single day. I hate him so much that I love him. Earlier, after reading his last entry and talking to Shiney Whiney (who is a hottie these days despite her whining), I came to a realization why I am still single….

Subconsciously, and despite the number of times I’ve said "I don’t have standards", have do have the same standards as he does. WTF?! I guess that’s the way the cookie crumbles for the beautiful and fabulous… Wahahah

I know it’s unethical to steal posts… but who cares… Here’s a slightly abridged version minus the celeb photos…

_______________________________

What to Look for in a Guy

Calling the attention of all single mother fuckers out there. Hear ye! Hear ye!

After all these years, now I know why I’m still fucking single. My standards are way too far up my own ass… I shouldn’t take my little guide religiously… and so…. seriously.

Whoever said love is blind should be shot to the ground and squished like roadkill. Fuck ‘love is blind’. Love is much better behind a pair of Boucheron (or in my case, Gucci) sunglasses.

For those of you out there who might be interested on what my standards are, feel free to read below. I added some nice celebrity (and pornesque) shots to illustrate what I meant.

1. He must be taller than you by at least a couple of inches… even with heels.
Save the midgets to the little people. People like you and me need a man who is taller than us.

2. He must be fit, well-proportioned and have better-than-average looks.
This is a tricky one. Someone who looks nice and presentable enough is good. On the other hand, going for someone who has a killer body and a hollywood smile is pretty much asking for trouble.

Skip the beautiful boys and go for the beautiful-but-not-so-beautiful kind.

3. He must be well-off.
One of our mantras in the Bryanboy School of Golddigging is "why date a parasite when that parasite can be YOU?". Let’s face it - nobody wants to date a fucking leech. Unfortunately.. most men here (who bat for my team at least) are fucking leeches. At least that’s what I’ve been told. Not that I’ve ever dated a guy here… in fact, I HAVEN’T!

Perhaps this is one of the main reasons why I’m still single in this cesspit of the third world. It already makes me sad knowing the fact that I’m not attractive. So why make me feel worse by going out with me only because you think I have money?

BTW.. AVOID students at all costs. That’s right. Those damn creatures (no matter how wealthy they are) will fuck you in the head.

4. Go for a gentleman.
It’s always nice when a guy treats you like a princess. A true gentleman is very, very hard to find these days. They are so hard to find that even our old hag Kate Moss goes for the young ones. I wonder, who the hell is this 20 year old mystery guy?

Would it be nice if you have a man at your disposable to help put your shoes on? Isn’t that sweet?

5. Always opt for the er.
Bigg-ER. Bett-ER. Great-ER.

Never sell yourself short. There is nothing wrong for wanting anything that ends with an ER. Bigger, better, greater.

_____________________

So there. I am letting myself have standards. This year it will have to be boys with those qualities or nothing… At least if I do get dumped, it will not be by some society’s dregs– which will hurt my gargantuan ego more rather than if I were dumped by a rich doctor driving an Audi (or any car for that matter).

Yeah right. Knowing me, I will still go through the trouble of kissing frogs and being dumped just the same.

I’m baaack!! Centuries after my last post, and I am still in this verbal lethargy, too lazy even to do the obligatory year-end blog entry. I’m breaking in now because, I now feel like it. I guess it’s because I’m in this work-lethargy. Aargh! 8 hours to do 50 calls and I can’t even do it.

REPLY TO A TAG

Let’s get this over and done with. Mari-an tagged me so I need to write 5 weird things about myself. Only 5? Tough.

1. My cheese consumption– I eat parmesan cheese by the spoonful. The best thing about Christmas for me is Edam or Keso de Bola. When I need to feel pampered or mayaman I buy expensive brie or camembert instead of going to the spa.

2. I name inanimate objects– I guess you regulars know about Wavey and Quoyle (mp3 player & digital camera). Well, Wavey is now in Nina’s care and in her place is Linny the black bitch. 

Details later…

3. I have volumes of scratch papers containing budget plans for imagined business ventures (Restaurants, cafes, a production house, a wine bar, an animation channel on cable…), film projects, weddings, and Cleavage albums. Talk about "drawing" grand plans… I scare myself sometimes.

4. I love taking juvenile quizzes from blogthings, quizzila, etc. And I take them all over again if I don’t like the results.

5. I do google searches of people I know. If I feel low, I do google searches on my name. Talk about vanity.

Also I need to tag 5 more people to do this. But I’m gonna end this crap. If you wanna write about 5 weird things in your blog, do it. If you don’t well fuck off! Heehee…

over my four day nicote-free break …

I learned that declan is apraxic

I finished my shabby sequence treatment

I finally succumbed to the sinful joys of Gnutella /limewire/p2p

I mapped out my gameplan till 2007…

           which goes something like: final script by january, 2 months preprod, shoot in april, post in may, premier on june or july, save and raket for the next 11 months while paying my loans, looking for an apartment, a nearby school for declan, household help, and a job i can do at home, move out by june, july to december, adjustment & brief period of near famine…

           sounds doable in writing, and since you lurkers have read this, i have no option but to see to it that whatever is written here will happen. one way or the other.

I have repeatedly and unfairly called Quoyle "the mongoloid of digital cameras". This after trying out and seeing the capabilities of his new friend and Nina’s baby Sparesnare. My bad. But indeed Quoyle’s low focal length, and bare specifications produce photos much inferior to Sparesnare’s. Envy seethes within me. What a bad parent. But looking at these strange images, i realize my camera’s good traits. And the best trait of all, is being there. Existing. Especially during the times i bungled up, had fun, and been in the right place at the right time.  Click on the thumbnails to enlarge.

MY MICROWAVE FIASCO

This is a very good reason why I should kill all daydreams of getting married and having a family. I have the curse of transforming a dish made of bow-shaped pasta into a Christmas ornament– neither edible nor worth hanging in your living room. Moral of the story, never cook bow-shaped pasta in a microwave. Or for me, never cook.

LONELY CUP

Aside from kidney stones and uti, this is what you get when you drastically increase your daily dose of sodium and MSG via the purchase of a Soupy Snax gift pack. All four flavors plus this mug showing a replica of me, only pinker.

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The Latest Episode of Pam & Nina’s "GLUTTONS ON THE LOOSE":                      Trip to Teazann

green tea cheesecake

There is a reason why cheesecakes are usually white and topped with blueberry, strawberry, or chocolate. So if you see a cheesecake that’s greenish with nata de coco and chocolate drizzle, you’re right, there’s something terribly wrong with it.

But being weird looking ourselves, Nina & I decided to give it a shot. Actually, everyone should. Its a unique experience. You feel like eating macaroni & fruit salad, but when you look at your plate, there’s a cheesecake. Faaar out… I’ve said to some friends that the experience of watching "Sa Ilalim ng Cogon" was similar to eating a green tea cheese cake. I would like to expound, but I reserve that for another blog entry.

saving graces

Good thing Teazann redeemed itself with it’s mouthwatering Cheese & Spinach Souffle and Angel Hair Vongole. The vongole was delicious. But I sort of expected that. Especially the red sauce ones. It’s like pesto or Caesar’s salad– it’s a safe thing to order and it rarely disappoints. I could be wrong though, I’m not as foodie as I’d  like to pretend… The souffle, I have to admit was something new for both Nina and I. We looked at each other and said "Pers taym mo day?" followed by raucous laughter. Shame on me, 27 years on this earth and I have not eaten a proper souffle. Unlike the fusion cheesecake, this dish I enjoyed. Immensely.

verdict

The other things we had were a dome shaped chocolate cake, and flavored green tea (pandan for Nina, plain with Jazmin syrup for me). The chocolate cake was airy and spongy– er, like the kind you can buy in Julie’s bakeshop. I liked it though. The green tea… well lets face it, I’m not a tea person (why do I keep trying?). And the jasmine syrup evokes images of santo niño’s and novena-praying old ladies. I don’t know if that’s a good thing. All in all, it was a great breakfast (yes folks, that was breakfast). A bit pricey (roughly 300+Php/head), but a good eat.

This is Quoyle’s shot which I am most proud of. Its not all that fantastic, but good enough for a tacky lifestyle magazine. Or so I’d like to think.

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ZEN

This is my 2nd favorite shot. Mostly because of the subject. Heehee. I went to this concert at Zen with a friend and his "date". We didn’t know the name of the gig, who were slated to play. And worse, the name of Nino’s project band when he’s not with Blue Jean Junkies. Oh well, the music was fabulous. The Sleepyheads did great covers of Das Model, Psycho killer, Rock Lobster and others… sound trip which got me dancing despite my office attire. Last to play were the X-President’s Combo, still darned good punk. I last saw them at UP I think 10 years ago, imagine that. Joseph was there, which was an indicator of the success of the gig. Beer at Zen was a ripoff (70Php) but they had a vodka promo, buy one take one for 110Php. Not bad. The vodka had strawberry syrup. Nice.

I would’ve posted more pics but alas, I’ve used up my 50 photo limit for this month. I hate friendster! I guess I’ll upload it at my yahoo photos and post a link. But not today. It’s a long weekend for me. Happy thanksgiving you stupid Americans. But I won’t be having any nights out. I am making a commitment to finish my film’s sequence treatment by Monday next week. Bash me on the head please if i fail to do so. Please. Too much going out, is very unproductive. I need to write something more substantial than stupid blog posts.

Happy weekend!

I am happy today because I reached my quota for the quarter.

I uploaded afterwards, the photos of Declan and Chet’s birthday, and toyed around with this site.

Try making your own personal profile. It’s fun, in a way.

I’d like to share you mine.

I also found some Depeche Mode & New Order mp3s. Their songs are classic and have beautiful words.

I consumed delicious things as well: a peppermint mocha, a fat Big Classic hamburger, a salad, and a bottle of vodka ice (which Nina and I snuck out to get during break).

I sound like a moron, but I can’t help but love this day.

It was an emotional roller coaster ride these past few days.  Started with my being upset by a friend’s tactlessness when he copied & pasted one of our chat sessions in his blog. I was upset because my real name (or at least the name which most know me by) was written there whereas his was not. He had the decency though to edit out the name of his beloved. Obviously he had concern for their identities but not for mine. He didn’t even ask for my permission and assumed I wouldn’t mind. It was infuriating. It might not have been a big deal to him but ridiculously it was for me.

I retaliated  by calling him names and assassinating his character via a friendster testimonial– which he actually approved (and infuriated me even more). I did apologize for my meanness and simply asked for the said blog post to be removed and all will be forgotten. Which he did actually, and I am sorry you can no longer view the infamous post.

My view on the situation though changed drastically after I read "the dark side of the light chasers" which Moonchild Sunny lent me. As a rule, I don’t read self-help books. The same way I don’t read best sellers. Don’t ask me why. But when Sunny blogged about her experience reading that book, I asked her if I could borrow it. More out of impulse when someone mentions a book that moves them.

She brought the book when we met up for Chet’s birthday celebration (which was a fun night— details in another post perhaps). I read it during the weekend. And it did give me great realizations:

"Projection… It is an involuntary transfer of our own unconscious behavior onto others, so it appears that these qualities actually exist in other people… If I am offended by your arrogance, it is because I am not embracing my own arrogance. This is either arrogance that I am now demonstrating in my life and not seeing. or arrogance that I deny I am capable of demonstrating in the future…It is only when you’re lying to yourself or hating some aspect of yourself that you’ll get an emotional charge from someone else’s behavior…"

A good example is the incident with my friend which I mentioned earlier. I was so affected by his tactlessness. After reading the book I realized that it was my tactlessness that I was angry at. I knew I could be like that sometimes but I consider myself a good friend. And could boss around them, bitch at them, but I would never put them in danger or humiliate them. Or so I thought… I look back at this girl whose blog and profile I lurked and the times I thought "Ang landi niya. Ang kapal ng mukha, nakakainis!!". How aghast I was when I realized that my behavior the past few weeks mirrored the same kalandian and kapal ng mukha.When I call someone a slut, and asshole, a poser, it is I who is the slut, asshole, poser… Like the author, I tried thinking of other behavior that affect me. I tried "murderer", "pedophile", "corrupt"… It really was hard. And it will change the way you see other people.

But it doesn’t end with mere "embracing" of your negative traits. Yes, you do feel a sense of freedom, ridding yourself of the baggage, blah blah blah. It is hard to recognize it  sometimes, let alone admit it. But it’s realizing how these negative traits have served you, have protected you, and made you be where you are now. The book also said something like with every negative trait, you have the capacity for its polar opposite. Like your hidden capacity to kill can make you value life immensely. Ha-ha, labo…

"If there is an aspect of ourselves that we don’t accept, we’ll continually attract people in our lives who act our that aspect. The Universe will keep trying to show us who we really are and to help make us whole again… However if a particular type of person keeps showing up in your life, it’s for a reason."

Hah! Now that’s something to think about. I recall the men in my life (the scarce handful of them) and stay up thinking about my unearthed capacity for playing around, meanness, irresponsibility, recklessness, love for travel, charm, popularity. The adjectives become more positive, when you realize that eventually it is yourself you are describing when you describe other people. And because, you are everyone, and everyone is you, it is not a god-exclusive act to love everyone, the entire human race. At the same time it is not a figure of speech to say you hate people or you hate everyone, if you hate yourself.

And this concept of projection also works on the positive things…

"People envy these stars…They get lost in their idol’s life as a way of avoiding their own. The deeper truth is that they are projecting an aspect of themselves onto their hero. If you see greatness, then it is your own greatness you are seeing… You may manifest it in a different way, but if you didn’t have greatness within, you wouldn’t be able to recognize that quality in someone else…"

Naks. I love painters… visual artists for that matter. Come think of it, my closest friends are visual artists (Sunny, Chet, Cheryl) and I had more friends in UP fine Arts than in any other college back in UP. Now I’ve recently fallen in love with the works of Chati and Ivan. And I feel grateful for knowing them and them knowing me. I wonder what this is telling me. Maybe I should learn art, be involved with it? I don’t know…

I really need to end this entry. There is so much going on in my head. I have this great urge to talk to someone about all this, but alas it is 4am and the world is asleep.

I am now making a commitment to cease moping and wanting and complaining. For now at least I will live by this statement:

"There is no genuine desire I cannot manifest today"

We had our company sponsored Annual Physical Examination this morning. I discovered two things:

1. I need to have my thyroid checked by ultrasound (perhaps this is why despite my gargantuan food intake, i hardly gain weight)

2. I have astigmatism (which probably accounts for my poor taste in men)

I wonder too why physical examinations are mandatory for corporate employment but psychological exams are unheard of. I think DOLE ought to have a bill passed on this. Especially for those on the night shift. Just so we can do something about any possible afflictions before it gets worse. Or at least so we know….

After months of abuse, my body has finally succumbed to illness. My lungs leaden, tonsils like live coals. The act of sleeping became more like a swim at an olympic sized pool in that I had to breathe through my mouth, gasp for precious air. I consume enormous amounts of tissue and make disgsting nose-blowing and coughing sounds. My bones feel spongy, my head pressurized.

Nobody welcomes that, obviously. Not when you know you cannot cuddle up or play with your offspring. And on a weekend too when it is the only time you can do so. And at a time when you need tactile reinforment from someone you love.

Then there’s this children’s party he attended, which I didn’t of course, lest I infect the other toddlers. My mother retold Declan’s experience of seeing Dora the Explorer (a dumb mascot of course) for the first time. He watches the darned show all the time (he loves it whe Map comes out and Backpack too) and was just ecstatic to see a live action version of it. He and his yaya also won a prize in one of those kiddie contests. And we never join kiddie contests– it’s against my principles to make a spectacle of  myself in that manner. So it was actually a good thing for Declan that I wasn’t able to go. I dont have any pictures to show naturally. My dad didn’t take Quoyle along when I offered to. Pride reasons I guess. So there passes by another stellar moment in Declan’s life. Another addition to the many others I have missed.

Another landmark I missed was his first word. Yes, his first word, Some mother huh? But I’d like to think that it doesn’t count because he never repeated it. My guess is that he uttered the word out of an extreme surge of emotion. Declan is adorable, fun loving, the reason for my existence and a lot of other things, but he is also a spoiled brat. He always gets his way when my folks are around (which is 75% of the time). But not however on that one instance, when arriving at the house after a trip to the mall he didn’t want to get out of the car. Probably wanted to "pasyal" some more. He wanted it so much, and angry at my family forcing him to come home, that he uttered his first whole word : "Ayaw!" I would like to pester and nag him until he says it again. Alas i don’t have the energy to.

Speaking of energy, I’m slowly gaining it back with the weekends respite. Being sick has its upsides too. You save money by not going out. You’re waistline decreases with your loss of appetite. You’re digestion and circulation improves with the amounts of water, juices, and fruits you take– not that you actually chose too, these are the only things you can ingest at this time. Your lungs take a break when you ditch the cigs. Ditto your liver with the self imposed liquor ban. Sleep hours are extended, doing wonders for your skin and well being. Not too bad after all.

Still, I’m giving myself a month to fully recover or longer. I don’t get sick easily, but once I do, I get hit hard. Similar to other aspects of my life… like luuuvv… hahahah!

How dare i call the author of such artwork a mere "possible boylet" . Who do I think I am? Why should I still hope that it could work? Moonchild number 4.

Still, it feels nice to have someone text you goodnight at 9 in the morning…

this is my friendster song…

"how many strangers do you have to meet

how many old friends do you have to see

with how many lovers do you have to sleep

to know that you’re

alone

in all

this world…"

                                     —All this World, Arco