brainstorming

The tambayan smelled odd when we got there this morning. Something like a combination of days-old Rodic's tapsilog and accumulated dust. Or maybe the smell from the dead cat we found in one of the ground-level cubby holes. I don't know - it hardly mattered. The air flowing in through the window, the unlocked gates, mitigated the weird odor anyway.

In sum, we spent almost seven hours poring over our LArch 1 project. I did the pre-final editing - what fansubbers would call typesetting - and wrote part of the script. Jeck lent his voice for the dubbed parts. Michael lent his music-mixing skills, honed from years with a world-renowned choir. Reg left early, but did a great job tweaking our amateur videos all the same. Nike and Alvin discussed things like al fresco dining, bubble fountains, and sinusoidal patterns. And Anina did odd-jobs - this task entailed impromptu entertainment, of course.

I've never had to work this much for a group project before. To be honest, I've never truly worked in a group before. I don't study, much less engage in group studying, and I prefer being left alone with a book or my computer. But today was fun. It was eye-watering, neck-straining, back-breaking hardcore fun. I'd never imagined working with other people - all of you able to contribute something significant to the final product - could be satisfying.

Even after Reg and Nike had already left, we were still at it with our lazy bantering. Michael was trying to leech flash games from my collection, while I tried to convince him that was a bad idea because Lavinia hasn't been exposed to anti-virus systems for three years. Jeck was tutoring Alvin and Anina how to best hit their target in that dratted viral game, Angry Birds. The lesson ended with Alvin feeling very bad because he couldn't defeat the pigs. (They are pigs, right? The opponents in Angry Birds?)

We parted, minutes and a few more words past four, tired, hungry, nursing mild headaches. My time might have been better spent working on that group paper for PI100, or writing my revised drafts for CW10. But I had fun. Tiring fun.

Mysterium

Given I'm supposedly one of the 166 graduating students of UPSE this semester - never mind that our thesis adviser told my TP and me that our first draft was pangit - I tried to support the Grad Comm by finding their booth in the UP Fair. K had told me they were hosting a tarot card reading, palm reading, occult-ish booth, so the night of Loverage5 I dragged R to a likely-looking table lit by a single candle.

R had her future read first - 3 questions, 50 pesos. Cute questions, actually, although I doubt I'm allowed to share them here - heads up though, one was about marriage. I had my 3 questions read next, but unfortunately, it turns out Mr. Raider Waite reader was too tired to predict my future properly, so Miss Gnome took over. And my three questions:

Q: Sinong makakatuluyan ko?

A: You're thinking of someone, but that person is not The One. If you push your luck with him, you will end up being vain and bitter [ano 'to, Desiderata???] because he will always make you feel like you're never good enough for him.

Q: Makakatulong ba ako sa Pilipinas someday?

A: No. You have to fix yourself first, because you don't know who you are. For some reason, you're trying to hide your bubbly-happy self, hiding behind a straight-laced, by-the-book persona. So to help your country, you have to let go first.

Q: Anong magandang i-second degree?

A: Do not take something just to spite anyone. Take something you really want.

And my analysis:

I'm not thinking of any guy in particular!!! [Although, yes, like any boyfriend-less person, I do have an image of my ideal guy - go ahead, guffaw.] I get the reading though, about not letting Imaginary Guy take over reality - 'cause if I keep trying to find someone just like him, I'll... never find anyone, haha.

The second answer was a let-down. Miss Gnome said something about learning to be vain because I was too selfless, which is completely off. [I'm completely selfish, only I don't tell people because I roll that way.] It's cool though, how she knew I'm reserved and strict compared with most people my age - or maybe it's in my face?

And re: the last question. Uh. Sorry. Doesn't help at all. Didn't you just say I don't know myself well enough? And now you're telling me I should stick with what I want to do???

[But please, visit their home site: mysteriumphilippines.org. It's actually kind of cool, knowing we have an occult academy in the Philippines.]

Uh, my laundry.

I've run out of comfortable jeans, so I've resorted to wearing those uber-long, ultra-girly, spinster-worthy skirts my mother gave me over the summer. They're actually quite cool to wear - except when people make it a point to comment on my chosen outfit - but I think I've gotten too used to wearing pants.

Um. In case you haven't noticed, this entry isn't going anywhere. It's just a random blog post. See, I've just entered the main lib's computer room, and it's embarrassing to just leave when I haven't even been here for half an hour. I was hoping to get the call numbers for textbooks I have to read by tomorrow, see, but then it turns out even if I did get their access codes today, I wouldn't be able to borrow them, not tonight. So gah. I'm stuck. Worse, I don't have three chapters' worth of readings for tomorrow.

And it's not even my fault! I'm not being lazy or anything! Our professor had left e-copies of our readings with the PolSc department, but for the past three instances that I've tried saving them in my USB, they've been corrupted. And I doubt I can save the thing in a CD, 'cause the department might not even have a CD burner, not with an OS like that. Sigh. Sucks worrying about material. I'd actually love to start working, instead of just moping around, pondering what else I could have been doing if I had the proper stuff to read.

On a lighter note, an American kid reported on Rizal today. (Not altogether surprising, since our shared class is on Rizal, after all.) He actually put up with the rest of the class' antics quite well; I don't think a normal person could have maintained a cheerful expression while his classmates giggled at his inability to pronounce Noli Me Tangere. To think, at the start of his report, I even saw his hand shaking as he handed his report outline to our teacher - and I was sitting in the second-to-the-last row. Pretty strong character that kid's got. Moral fibre, Ludo Bagman would call it.

I wonder how I would have fared had I studied in a foreign country?

Bah. Anyway, since I can't read any 'proper' stuff tonight - not having the right material, as mentioned previously - I'm going to skim through La Corda d'Oro Chaps 70-71. I hope, pray, sincerely and fervently that Len finally confesses to Kahoko. Pleaaaase. End the manga NOW.

Modern Methods of Torture

A month or so ago, my friend Trisha forced me and a couple of our other friends to join the SDP "Spotted! Ikot-picture-taking-contest". Given my friends were so into winning the thing - though we didn't even know what the prizes were at that time - I won two gift certificates to Spa101 in Maginhawa. Plus, I managed to leech the GC Sunshine won, so in the end, I had three GCs to play with. [Which Julian asked to offer as a prize for the ICTUS raffle, a request which I selfishly declined.] But I digress.

Early this afternoon, I finally mustered the guts to visit Spa101 to claim my prize, and to get a much needed half-leg wax. And you know how many hours I spent there? 4. 4 freakin' hours. The ates were really nice and more than highly competent, but seriously. 4 HOURS. To think some women engage in practices like this on an almost religious level.

Then again, my waxing took too much time because I had a lot of ingrown leg hair - due to shaving, and because of this, I will forever campaign against leg shaving of any sort. Also, I had my nails done; they got ruined as I was going home because I wasn't patient enough for my nails to dry. But the thing is, I don't really care. As long as my nails are black enough to show in my creative pic, it's fine.

Although I did wait for about ten minutes for my nails to "dry". And because I was so bored, I tried out the Super Macro effect Phill had been playing with in my camera, producing very satisfactory effects. Wanna take a look?

And I actually took more pictures, but as I'm technologically illiterate, I don't know how to post them flipped.

the fangirl is insane

Recently, I've been promising myself that I WON'T read fanfiction until I finish all the work I have to do. Almost always, too, I've been breaking my promises to myself - such as now. I should be doing the interview questions for Father Mike and Miss Juvy, or reading the 20 pages article that I have to come up with three talking points for by tomorrow, or sleeping like my two roommates, but NO! Up until a few minutes ago, I was loitering in ffnet, looking for MORE to read.

God, have mercy.

On a happier note, Ma'am Jamon heard our proposal for our PolSci 160 final paper, and she liked it very much, saying it was "relatively unexplored". In case anyone is interested, our topic is Gay Men in Politics, and our proposed paper focuses heavily, if not solely, on the UP community's perception of homesexuality in the political arena. The topic, suggested by Maricon, is expected to produce a paper that will gauge whether our school, which is arguably the most liberated university in the country, welcomes gay politicians - it's a good "exploration" ground, so to speak.

Finally, allow me to let my shallowness prevail for a few moments as I comment on Ma'am Jamon's faculty room. Unlike Sir Falgui's room, which he had to share with a roomie, and which didn't have much space for a bookshelf, Ma'am Jamon's den was unexpectedly spacious (more spacious than I expected, really), with an impressive bookshelf filled with PolSci books spanning almost an entire wall. True, Sir Nemenzo's room is probably the most "dignified" looking one I've been in so far, but he is a former UP president, that's understandable...

I'm rambling. I want to sleep. But no, I have to read on the ever-expanding black market for human organs and its contribution to globalization. Sniff.