Nakakainis sila

Ganun ba talaga, dapat misinterpreted ka? I so hate it when people get the wrong impression. Ba't ba kasi ganito ako? C'mon! I may sound mad but I'm not mad... at all.

Bakit kahit sobrang nagpapakapuyat ka para matapos ang trabaho pero walang nakakapansin ng effort mo? Pero mapapansin nilang may isang "typo" ka.

Minsan hindi ka na naglu-lunch, mukha kang ngarag at ang pangit-pangit mo na pero hindi ka parin daw mukhang busy.

Bakit yung ibang tao, trying hard to please, sobrang back-biters, pretentious and everything pero well-loved sila? Ikaw na nagpapakatotoo lang misinterpreted ka pa.

Bakit may ibang taong grabe na ang inferiority complex? Kailangang i-compare nila ang sarili nila sayo - in your face? Mygoodness.

Bakit may taong super takot magmukhang tanga? Hindi mo naman inaano, maiinis sayo just because you brought up something that made them look stupid.

Bakit kailangan ang tao naghahanap ng kakampi? Kapag naiinis sila sayo, kailangang ikuwento sa iba para mainis din yung iba. Sa katapusan, ikaw hindi mo na nai-share yung side mo dahil naging sarado na ang utak ng majority?

Nakakainis sila. I hate this day.

Two Hours

My cousin, Andrew, passed away on August 22, 2005. He was 28 years old and was having the time of his life. Honestly, I still don't know why that had to happen. He's got so many things going for him. He had a good life. He was living out his passion for music, with the love of his life and his ever supportive family behind his back.


Andrew, Wolfmann to most, is a musician, a very passionate and nationalistic musician. He lived and breathed music. Even when we were young, Andrew was always the one who would provide the music when we wanted to sing. No onle else can do what he does. He was big in the industry and I never knew it until I witnessed the throngs of people coming to see him at his wake. Fans, musicians, old classmates, friends, family... I would have thought I was in a rock gig if not for the venue and if not for the sight of rockstars weeping. The night he collapsed, the last gig he saw was the Rockestra and he was elated, awestruck by it. He was reeling, raving and even excited to do his own version. A few hours later, he collapsed... and nobody ever got to talk to him.


His passing away pains me so much. Andrew was my F1 buddy. Ka-text ko yan every F1 Sunday. Favorite namin si Raikkonen. He even wrote me a testimonial on Friendster and it says that I'm his favorite cousin dahil favorite namin si Kimi Raikkonen. He was also my Wednesday morning buddy. Parehong coding yung mga cars kaya alam ko he's up early na and when I've got no one to chat with, I'd text him about whatever... NU countdowns, ano nang bagong songs, saan ang gigs...


Minsan nagkita kami sa Starbucks. Akala ko dati coincidence lang but now I know it happened for a reason. The time we spent at Starbucks Greenbelt that day were the most memorable two hours we spent together. Super dami naming napagkuwentuhan about our lives, family. I am so thankful to the Lord for giving me the chance to spend that precious morning with him. This happened 2 months before his death. My friends would attest that I am quite a forgetful person but I remember everything that was said between Andrew and I that Wednesday morning.


Ang daming revelations, plans for the future...manonood kami ng F1 live when we get richer... madami ring advices... he told me not to fight back my parents and to just keep the peace wherever I am. He also kept pushing me to do the things I want to do no matter what people around us would say. Sabi nga niya, buhay natin to eh. Live it the way you want it. And that's what he did - short and sweet.


I miss him terribly. Kimi Raikkonen won the Belgian Grand Prix the same day he passed away and I kept thinking, shet. Ang daya niya. He watched live without me... :(

I am in Google!

I tried Google-ing my name and it was really cool to find at least one valid entry that was actually me! Haha thanks to my cousin Coco who linked me to her blog. That's nice, at least we'd get to know each other really well. After the things that happened these past few weeks, I have realized that life is short and it is important to let the ones that you love feel that you love them.

I have a lot of things I want to write about, just don't have time for it. I'm a busy bee.

So little time, so much to do

There are so many things to do!

I have a new acount. And it's a pain! Really. I'm not referring to the people I work with, though. It's the account itself - a big multinational company, the leader in its field, which everybody loves to hate. But don't get me wrong. I'm not a quitter. The account is a huge challenge and I love it. It's just that I had this work-life balance for so long and then this one comes up and creates a disturbance. I would have to get used to a new routine. I won't be able to go home when the clock strikes 6 and sometimes I need to go to the office earlier than everybody else and leave later than everbyody else. But I can do this. I am capable of living up to this challenge.

There's so many things I want to write about. I recently lost a loved one but I admit I'm not prepared to talk about that yet.

Meanwhile... I go back to the tasks at hand.

Destruction

Devastating is an understatement when used to describe hurricane Katrina. This tragedy had me glued to CNN all night. I cannot believe this is happening to America, the world’s most powerful country. America must have thought it was invincible. And the response of its government is appalling. They can’t say they were caught unaware because they weren’t. The sad thing is that majority of the population of New Orleans, the most affected state, is black. Black people have always felt ostracized and disenfranchised in the land of the whites. In whatever field of expertise, even in entertainment (with the exception of rap/hip-hop, of course), there has always been this prejudice. Even Oprah is a victim of racism. And the way that the U.S. government handled this hurricane of a situation made it worse. It is already hard enough to survive without anything - no water, food, electricity, TOILET – for a day, what more when you had to bear with it for 3-5 days? The picture of a lifeless man in a wheelchair breaks my heart. Instead of heading straight to the scene, George Bush managed to stopover elsewhere to thank whoever for a job well done and blah blah blah go the PR blurbs.

Deadly storms, earthquakes, terrorism, bomb explosion, fire, landslide… these are banal in the Philippines. But a hurricane drowning a state almost the size of Great Britain in the world’s wealthiest and most powerful country is a different story. Devastating as it is, however, this catastrophe only goes to show that after all, we’re all in the same planet.

Musical influence?

Like what I have mentioned in a previous post, my preference in music is pretty flexible. I don't really care about genres...music is music.


Well, this survey says...

Your Taste in Music:

90's Alternative: Highest Influence

80's R&B: High Influence

90's Hip Hop: High Influence

90's R&B: High Influence

90's Rock: High Influence

Adult Alternative: High Influence

Classic Rock: High Influence

R&B: High Influence

80's Alternative: Medium Influence

90's Pop: Medium Influence

Alternative Rock: Medium Influence

Punk: Medium Influence

80's Pop: Low Influence

Dance: Low Influence

Hair Bands: Low Influence

Hip Hop: Low Influence

Old School Hip Hop: Low Influence

How's Your Taste in Music?

Frustrated Musician

Unfortunately, I am one of those who do not have God-given musical talents. I tried to learn playing the piano when I was 10 years old but I never got past crunchy flakes. I was playing by numbers and not by notes. 12 years after, my dad buys us a guitar and I've only touched it once. The weird thing is I love music and I can never live without it. I can live without television but not without radio or a cd player or an mp3 player. I can even live without my PC and the internet... well, ok, I'm lying. Though I am able to appreciate all genres, I am a frustrated rocker. If I had total control of who I'm going to be, I would love to be a guitar genius much like Jimi Hendrix, Carlo Santana or John Frusciante of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. And if I had more talent, I would love to write songs and compose melodies like Paul McCartney or Chris Martin. All in all, I'd love to be Bono. Ang labo!!!

Okay, if God insists that I still be female, Bjork will be great. If I were a pinoy rocker, I would love to have Raymund Marasigan's and Marc Abaya's brains, Bamboo's charisma and Kitchie Nadal's beauty. NGEK! That's really hard to imagine... Bamboo na Kitchie Nadal is like saying malikot pero maganda. Hahaha!

No Rain

It's amazing how one song can lift my spirits and get me in the mood just because I haven't heard it for quite a while... and how it feels good to remember the times when I was young and careless. For a split second, I was back in the days when I'd be with my friends, sitting infront of the steps leading to the corridors of my highschool, gazing at the vast field where the pre-school boys catch dragonflies.

No Rain

Blind Melons

All I can say is that my life is pretty plain

I like watchin' the puddles gather rain

And all I can do is just pour some tea for two

and speak my point of view

But it's not sane, It's not sane

I just want some one to say to me

I'll always be there when you wake

Ya know I'd like to keep my cheeks dry today

So stay with me and I'll have it made

And I don't understand why I sleep all day

And I start to complain that there's no rain

And all I can do is read a book to stay awake

And it rips my life away, but it's a great escape

escape......escape......escape......

All I can say is that my life is pretty plain

ya don't like my point of view

ya think I'm insane

Its not sane......it's not sane

F1 rants...

For the joke that happened in Indianapolis, I blame Ferrari and Mosley. Ferrari for their selfishness and Mosley for his stupidity. Mosley must have thought that by siding with Ferrari, he can keep the sport alive. However, he doesn't realize that it is the spectators and supporters that is the backbone of any sport industry. Ferrari alone cannot survive Formula One.

I just hate MSC and Ferrari right now. After the Indianapolis GP, all the admiration and respect I have for Schumacher and Ferrari have been replaced by hatred, disgust and disappointment. They didn't think about the sport, the fans, and the passion for F1. The farce at Indianapolis could have been avoided had they used their brains and opened their minds.

Those sore losers. They could have just allowed a chicane and let the others race for no points but they didn't. And I suspect this is because Ferrari was scared to go through the embarassment of not having a place at the podium despite the perfect tires. They did not want to risk losing the points to Raikkonen or Alonso now that they have the opportunity to secure it for themselves. Ferrari obviously has an identity crisis. They can't accept the fact that they are not at the top anymore.

As expected, MSC won after a long drought... and that's because the top drivers and constructors - his fiercest competitors withdrew from the race.

My two cents? Schumacher should get in shape and regain his title in a real race with the best drivers today. Afterwhich, he should gracefully retire.

Related story

12 red roses

Dennis, my half-brother, is 13 years older than me. Despite the age gap, we’ve become really close and it never felt like we were “half”. He had a huge influence in my life. It was he who taught me how to play the family computer and it wasn’t just Super Mario, Mappy or Popeye. We played the boys’ games – Battle City, Galaga, F1 race, and later, Tekken, Gran Turismo and the like. We’d watch basketball games, refuse to believe Wrestlemania was scripted, and monitor F1 races rooting for Mika Hakkinen. When I was younger, my brother would take me for a ride in his trusty motorcycle every night after dinner, and we’d come home late, much to our mom’s distress.

He is my confidant, my friend, and my most loyal supporter whenever I come in conflict with my parents. My brother would always bail me out when our parents would punish me. He or my dad would bring me to McDonald’s sometimes so I wouldn’t incur any more of my mother’s wrath (part and parcel of motherly love, they would appease me). And when I was too young to reason out to Mom or Dad, my brother was my voice.

I miss him so much. My brother passed away in September 2000. He was 31 years old, barely four months into his marriage and his wife was 4 months pregnant when he figured in a tragic motorcycle accident.

I really missed my brother when I had a falling out with my mom days before mother’s day. That was a huge fight and things could have been easier had my brother been there to make things ok and to straighten out things for us. On the eve of mother’s day this year (7 May), my mom dreamt of my brother. He went to our house as he usually does during special occasions, and gave mom a bouquet of red roses. That was a first, though. In his lifetime, my brother never really spent much on flowers for our mom as he was very practical and the last time our mom received a bouquet was when dad was courting her. The most she got after her marriage were 3 red roses.

When mom woke up the next morning, on the dining table were 12 red roses beautifully arranged and held together by a huge ribbon. No, the roses were not from my brother. It’s no Nginiiiiiiig moment.

The roses were from me. I am not known to be the sentimental daughter and it took a lot of guts for me to do this. I’d usually buy a gift from some department store, have it wrapped and accompanied by a greeting card, or if not, I’d just give mom some shopping money. But the night before, I happened to be at a mall where there were a group of flower vendors. My dad was late to pick me up so I decided to take a stroll and look at the flowers. For some reason, I was swayed to buy a dozen of them for my mom. Even my dad was surprised. My dedication read:

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!
Thank you for everything.
You just think you’re not appreciated
but you are. Love you.

Love, Dad, JOY, Jenna, and Kuya Dennis

It just melted her heart. And what made it more special was that Kuya was part of it. Seeing the look on my mom’s face was more than enough to make me happy. That was an affirmation that no matter how much we disagree sometimes, my Mom loves me and she knows how much I love her.

Amazing how God really works. And thanks, Kuya, for the help.