The Lea Salonga Love-Hate Club

"YouTube is a big fat flamebait." (Desabelle, 2010)

That pretty much sums up what it is. I used to think MySoju would be better off if it allowed comments at the bottom of each video, but after seeing how ugly and bigoted some people's thoughts can be, I realized a clean video page provides the best viewing experience possible. [I mean, if WoWoWee accepted feedback re: each episode, what a nightmare that'd be.] My irritation - and building obsession - with this perfectly innocent video provider stems from some of the comments I've seen on Lea Salonga's videos. Some have made me want to bash my fist into something, and all have got me thinking - which is pretty difficult for me to do at the moment, considering I haven't been keeping my brain in shape these past two months.

For the first time since University, I found myself wanting to become a lawyer, to develop my logical processing (which seems dormant at present) so I could use it to defend the Philippines from YouTube idiots like BERNARDO712.

We 'met' after watching this video of an under-20 Lea Salonga auditioning for the role of Kim in Miss Saigon. Imagine a replies page half-filled with comments branching from the general SICK idea that 'All Filipinas are prostitutes'; that was the status of the crime scene when I wandered into it. Majority of the remaining comments were replies to BERNARDO712's statement, most going for the pathos route instead of the logos route Our Boy obviously wanted to pursue. I tried arguing with him, but I doubt he understood my point. He's too narrow-minded for that level of thinking.

In this video, I met firsttenor76 - who I really like. I don't actually have a beef with him; I'm only writing about him because he got me thinking about the international community's perception of us Filipinos. He's a Filipino singer based in the United States, and in that page, he commented that the 'proud to be filipino' shout-outs were excessive - he was right in that. He says:

There is something self-promoting, obnoxious and extremely arrogant about being so proud that people have to post their race at all!!! It's just stupid. There's only one race, the human race. Stop with the bashing and self-promoting. There is such a thing as being TOO proud.

I tried to make him see why that was happening - you know, our nature of latching all our hopes and dreams on specific figureheads like Pacman, and now, Noynoy - but I don't think we really understood each other. And I think that's because he's in the States, where it would be embarrassing to hear your fellowmen say they're proud of their race all the time. Whereas I'm Philippines-bred, and I've gotten used to traffic coming to a full halt whenever there's a Pacquiao game on. We're both proud to be Pinoy; we both know our countrymen can go rave-overboard sometimes. But we still have different views on this one simple issue.

This whole issue makes me wonder what foreigners think of us. I seriously hope the general perception isn't anywhere near BERNARDO712's skewed paradigm.

swimming lessons

My mother is fond of recalling that I once wanted to become a fish. As a kid, I was a beach bum, and once, I even developed a fever because I stayed too long under the oppressive Philippine sun. A decade and a few years later, however, here I am, afraid of even stepping into large bodies of water because my legs are scarred and chapped owing to all my depilatory cream experiments, and I'm still suffering a horrible case of bacne. Puberty was rougher on me than on most kids, and I can't remember the last time I went to the beach - blame it on my constantly rebonded "delicate" hair. So I guess today's swimming trip was the long-awaited break from my hiatus, eh?

After a trip to Masada earlier this morning, my family and I - along with some rowdy friends of my mum's - trooped to the Dead Sea to fulfill my father's wish of floating there just for the heck of it. To be honest, I've seen better; nothing beats Camiguin's White Island. I still had fun though, mainly because the adults I was with were whacko. Here's proof of how much I enjoyed myself:

As much as I enjoyed floating around though (I can't swim, so it was nice to pretend like I could) I found myself wishing the people around me had a great time, too. I'm not talking about my cohorts - 'cause they were busy sowing disaster in the beach for fun just as I was. Twas the locals and the other tourists I was worried about. It seemed to me that swimming in the Dead Sea was, for them, nothing spectacular. And maybe it's not as breathtaking as say, foiling a terrorist attack just in the nick of time, but really! They were just floating around with emotionless masks for faces! Not one genuinely happy smile!

My assessment is that the Israelis think of the beach as a place for sunbathing, socializing, and introducing one's beloved dog to seawater. They don't think of it as a place to relax, a place to have fun, a place to laugh, to make noise, to let go of all inhibitions and to just be. I never really liked noisy people, and there were even times I detested OFW's for talking loudly everywhere. But seeing these foreigners walking around looking as if there's nothing more to life than getting some passable tan lines, I'm happy I'm a citizen of beach nation. I'm happy to be Filipino.

peer pressure

UPSE 2010 produces 2 Summa Cum Laude, 24 Magna Cum Laude, and 55 Cum Laude among 155 graduates. And who knows how many Dean's Medalists there are?

I've never really cared about my grades in the past, because in the small, sheltered world of Kong Hua, which produced our Senior Batch of 109 students, surviving came easily. I never studied, and was more immersed in extra-curriculars and "getting the most out of life". Somehow, even with my rather pathetic grades, I got into the UP School of Economics - I think all that praying helped. And now, for the first time in my life, I'm worried about not finishing on the top half of my batch - which I've never had to worry about before.

There's a very slim chance of me graduating with honors. In fact, there's barely any chance of me qualifying for the Dean's Medal, which is like "honorable mention" of our School. I'm not particularly worried about the future, or getting a job, so in that sense my grades don't really matter to me. But I do care about not getting left behind, and when more than half your batch graduates with honors and YOU don't... That sucks. Seriously.

In the School of Econ, they take "competition" to a whole new level. Except in this case, you can only win or lose to yourself.

PS Allyanna Anglim was my classmate last semester, in Econ 141: International Economics. How she could have maintained her godlike GWA despite going through that class, I have no idea. That girl's a genius!

I wish I had an Arima

The girl is Miyazawa Yukino, who tricks her classmates and teachers into thinking she's THE perfect student. The guy's her boyfriend Arima Souichirou, who IS the perfect student - although he's not exactly a sane person. Their story is chronicled in the manga series His and Her Circumstances, which I'm hooked to at the moment. I've never had the patience to read manga scans online - because I reeeally hate having to click all the way to the bottom of the page, and then the next - but for this particular story, I don't really mind all the clicking. It's THAT good. Now, I'll go read.

the bored and the ornery

That's the name of a certain Maiko (MaixZuko) community on fanfiction.net. Right now, I really want to read through the fics they've archived, but I can't. Because the nearest, decent internet cafe from our flat charges 20 shekels per 1.5 hours. That's 200+ pesos devoted solely to Facebook and keeping FnQ together - a vain attempt.

Life in Israel is actually pretty swell. Gorgeous people - seriously. Tel Aviv is like a scene out of Europe, not the Middle East. Walking to the net cafe I'm at right now, one passes through more clothes-boutiques than all other shops combined. At least that's what it seems like. Also, every woman who flits past is decked in what would seem in the Philippines like fitting nightlife wear. I don't mean promiscuous, or Gossip Girl-worthy, just... so fashionable it's slightly surreal.

I am in constant danger of being run over by bikes, of getting sniffed by dogs - both of which are abundant in the streets of Tel Aviv. The people from the building next door have a balcony overlooking our bathroom - and I didn't notice that until two weeks after I got here, spending more than 30 minutes on my daily showers-cum-meditation sessions. I am desperate for Nissin Cup Noodles, Fuji apples and seafood. There is an excess of what Auntie Fely calls pita bread, but really, I never liked bread.

Israel is beautiful. It really is. But I've yet to see more of it. So far, my favorite out of all the places I've been to with my family that one day we actually went out for sightseeing is Mount Tabor, where the disciples sought refuge after the death of Jesus Christ. I truly wish I could properly describe the feeling of driving up that mountain in a narrow, two-lane street. The whole time I was thinking the car would fly off the mountain and crash hundreds of meters in the city below.

I am not thinking straight. Seriously. Maybe, just maybe, I am bored and ornery due to my own lack of initiative to find something interesting to do with my summer. I am looking forward to more of Israel, and although I always argue with my family, I sincerely love them to bits and do not mind living under the same roof as them. But I know that our living situation (wake up at 10, sleep at 12, eat, bathe, watch TV in between) is not helping my sanity. I am going insane here. Almost.

PS. I used to think Tel Aviv was the capital of Israel. Actually, it's not. It's Jerusalem.