Speak Up

Want to take part in this year's Youth Engagement Summit held at Kuala Lumpur for free? Youths aged 18-35 are all eligible to join.

Click http://philippines.youthsays.com/seachange/go/qlg and sign up!

Don't let this opportunity to raise your voice pass! For the betterment of our future: say YES to Change!

Waiting on the world to change,

Essa

P.S. On second thought, I'm not waiting. I'm acting up.

A thousand different faces

It's amazing, the things you learn about yourself as a person if you took the time to evaluate what you want and where you are in your life. When surrounded by the multitude, it's easy to lose sight of who you truly are, so you lose sight of what you really want and where you currently stand. People, in general, have an aversion to standing out and being considered odd, so they tend to blend in with their peers. Once in a while, I urge you to take a step back and enjoy your own company. Breathe in the simple joy of being alone and refresh yourself with random thoughts. It feels nice to liberate yourself from all labels and just decide to be as weird and quirky as you want.

Do what you love and fuck the rest. (And don't give a damn about what they think, too.) Ha ha!

Maskless,

Essa

RIP ANDY

Andy Dela Cruz passed away this afternoon.

I'm still in shock. More on this later; Andy deserves a post that is more thought of than what I am able to write right now. I'll try to do him justice.

Love ya, brother. Been missing you for awhile now.


My condolences to his entire family.


Grieving,
Essa.

The Post with 2 Titles

In other words, “A Beacon of Light” and “Dancing In the Rain”

Today, I danced in the rain with my brother and – and more importantly – my mum. As I type, my hair is still dripping wet from the warm shower I had immediately taken as soon as I finished dancing, molding my tshirt to my back.

You’re probably wondering how “A Beacon of Light” would serve as an appropriate title here. But I won’t expound further than this:

For now, all I want is to give thanks for all of life’s small mercies; A safe lighthouse in an otherwise vast and stormy sea, for example, or dancing in the rain with your mother in spite of a turbulent relationship.

So today, I give thanks. Thanks to the rain. And thanks to hope.

Rain girl,
Essa

The 2 Seasons

Just 2 days ago, I arrived back home from a recent trip to the tropical Island of Boracay. This oasis has been the highlight of the last few bleak months spent rotting at home, praying for something - anything - to save us all from deteriorating with stress. I stayed for 4 days and 3 nights with Drei, the eldest amongst my siblings, her girlfriend, ate Iyay, ate Jill, the 3rd youngest (and 4th eldest), her boyfriend, Miggy, his mother, tita Marissa, and my brother, kuya Jap, who is a precious year older than I am.

What we did for 5 hours...

The road lay a few bumps ahead for us, only to turn out as blessings in disguise. For one, our flight was delayed for 5 hours -- 5 hours that could have been spent in praise of the sun, in love of the sand, in adoration of the water. Needless to say, we were annoyed. In compensation, we were given a free, one-way, domestic ticket to be used at our liking and consumed within the year. Score? I think so.

Once we reached the island proper, we went our seperate ways - with Miggy, Tita Marissa and ate Jill staying at a different location and Drei, ate Iyay, kuya Jap and myself staying at the 2 seasons hotel/ resort.

The 2 Seasons hotel is highly recommended. It may not have Discovery Boracay's severe popularity, nor Shangri-La Boracay's imposing yet austere prestige, but its modest rooms and quirky persona appeals to the vacationer. Add to that their generous, warm, and hospitable staff, and what you get is a hassle-free vacation both promising and surprising.

The minute we arrived to check-in with reception, we are given free drinks to help us quench our thirst brought on by the scorching sun and humid air. Already, I'm falling in love with this hotel. We are given the key to our room and we immediately go and unburden ourselves off our travel luggage. As I enter the room, I am greeted by a humble, sweet abode. Water and fruits are on the table, complimentary, for us to snack on. We take photos, as we're known to do, before heading out to check the hotel's other amenities. Right outside our hotel room, there is a wading pool, about 4 ft high, available for use once you've grown tired of having sand in your underpants or the night has taken hold, rising the tide, making it impossible to see and easy to fall prey into all sorts of accidents at the poorly lit beach.

The corridoor leading to the hotel's restaurant is plainly adorned with a koi pond full of fat, healthy koi fishes and couches so comfortable, one can easily fall asleep in them. The restaurant itself is wonderful, serving complimentary breakfasts for its guests, offering alcoholic beverages at its bar, and free wi-fi for those of us unable to stay away from the internet. A few steps outside of that, right on top of the sand so beautiful it's almost powder, are nipa huts filled with tables, benches, and pillows, offering a shade-haven. It is the perfect place to drink shakes and catch up on good conversation during the time of day most dreadful to the skin.

At the beach proper itself, numerous sun beds and umbrellas are lain out for the guests, while some of the staff hover and stand nearby, ready to assist you in any way they can. In addition to everything else, the hotel offers a shuttle to be used at any time, taking you anywhere on the island, and saving you the trouble of either walking from station one, where the hotel is located, to wherever or paying the tricycles, who at times seem to charge an ungodly amount of money for a 5 minute ride. Come night fall, a number of masseuses are available to rub your tensions away.

The room itself is spectacular, making it a challenge to venture out of the confines of your home for the entirety of your stay. The hotel offers numerous dvds to be lent, board games, internet service via lan cable, and an iPod dock my brother wanted to take home with him. My favorite part of the room is, of course, the bathroom! Their bathroom is a spacious area with a shower that is TO DIE FOR; giving the illusion of bathing outside, while ensuring your privacy as well.

The mini-pool was well-used during our stay there, especially during the night when the lights were turned on. The staff, whom I now like to think of as my friends, (most notably the gracious Arlene, our receptionist), are well-mannered and accomodating - greeting you every time you walk by and asking if you need help with anything.

Overall, my stay at the 2 Seasons was thoroughly enjoyable! It was luxurious and refreshing, yet sadly, too short. I must come back soon, and I promise you, I will! (As soon as I coerce my older siblings to pay for the room and let me board for free, mind you.)

At Peace,

Essa

P.S. All photos from the trip will be uploaded at my multiply in a day or two.

Another One Bites The Dust.

RIP: Alexis Tioseco and his girlfriend, Nika Bohinc.

Although I can't claim to know Alexis Tioseco personally, he was a professor at my college. I'm sure he was a great man, proven only by the fact that God chose Alexis and his girlfriend to join Him, their maker, sooner than the rest of us, sparing them from witnessing further cruelties and vulgarities that we of the less fortunate will still have to endure. Only the good die young.

How their demise came about was a tragic thing, we can only pray that they hadn't suffered.

All of my thoughts and prayers,

Essa

In search of the stars

We live in benighted times. And I am, undoubtedly, the most benighted of (wo)men.

For those uninformed, when it comes to dreams, I'm the girl in the know. Writing, Acting, Singing, Traveling -- name it, and more likely than not, I've dreamt about it.

A couple of weeks ago, a spark ignited in me. An all-consuming, terrifying, mind-boggling abyss of certainty -- I don't want to go back to school, I want to pursue my dream. For almost 2 semesters now, I've been staying home, away from where I should safely be tucked (school), and trying to satisfy this love for reading. While I know for sure that it'll never fully be satiated, I tried to dim the burn. For what reason? I can't be too sure. Maybe to help me focus more on studying academics than reading fiction, maybe so I can leave my indolent lifestyle and do something requiring more than just neurons for a change. Whatever the cause is irrelevant now, because instead of killing it, I've only added fuel to the flame.

A couple of friends I've talked to about leaving my studies for good seem to think that I've only set the way to my destruction. In my heart, I know they just don't understand. In my head, I think "well, the path to hell is paved with good intentions..." It's beyond difficult for me to hear this, though I can't be sure if it bruised my heart or my ego. Somewhere inside my vindictive, proud, self, I think "well, you don't know because you're so un-attuned to your own imagination" and I figure they'd go to Hades for such idiotic sentiments. Rationally, I know where they're coming from.

We live in benighted times.

So little oppurtunities are available to college undergrads such as myself, especially if there's a specific field we want to enter. And what's worse is that even less are offered to females having just passed the age of majority. Forget creativity, fuck innovations. What the world is looking for now is a flock of misinformed and easily molded human-bots ready to do at their bidding.

The greatest ignoramuses are borne out of schools. They rear disciples, imitators, and routinists. All new ideas and creative geniuses be damned (not to say that I belong in such number, don't get me wrong)... it is just, I have found that school days are the most dreadful in the span of human existence. They brutally beat out of children all sense of self and common decency. They arrange everything for a child making him unable to produce ideas of his own. What boils my blood the most about having been forced to attend this farcical rite of passage that we call school is that while I was there, not only did they fail to teach me what they professed, but they also prevented me from being educated to an extent which infuriates me when I think of all that I might have learned at home by myself. If attending school has taught me anything, it is that nothing worth knowing can ever be taught.

So in lieu of being able to hone our skills, we are instead brainwashed to limit them to society's standards. "No thinking beyond the box, men; computers do it for us now". "You refuse to kowtow to our demands? Off with your head!"

We live in benighted times.

The world will always punish the few people with special talents the rest of us don’t recognize as real.

It is a shame to live in a world where people have stopped depending on one another, and have started depending on technology.

A world of adult infants, an army of mental midgets. Emaciated brains, anorexic minds.

Information starved,

Essa.

P.S. Forgive the unruly post, it's just one of those days where thoughts fly into my head, leaving me to try and catch them. I just figured I'd blog since it has been awhile.

P.P.S. The correct plural of “ignoramus” is “ignoramuses”. This may sound odd, as the word is from Latin, leading one to think the plural ought to be “ignorami”. But it was never a noun in Latin, only a verb, meaning “we do not know”.

The Awful Reality

I see this question posted with some regularity in the personals section, so I thought I’d take a minute to explain things to the ladies out there that haven’t figured it out.

What happened to all the nice guys?

The answer is simple: you did.

See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He’d tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn’t feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fucking treated you.

At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and buttressed your position by claiming that you were “just friends.” Besides, he totally wasn’t your type. I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fat, or too poor, or didn’t know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.

Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren’t the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you’re single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, “What happened to all the nice guys?”

Well, once again, you did.

You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive “just-a-” friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren’t really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you’re upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he’d have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to be.

Fact is, now, he’s probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I’m sorry that it took the complete absence of “nice guys” in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.

So, if you’re looking for a nice guy, here’s what you do:

1.) Build a time machine.
2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.
3.) Take a look at what’s right in front of you and grab ahold of it.

I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don’t really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.

If you were five years younger.

So, please: either stop misrepresenting what you want, or own up to the fact that you’ve fucked yourself over. You’re getting older, after all. It’s time to excise the bullshit and deal with reality. You didn’t want a nice guy then, and he certainly doesn’t fucking want you, now.

Sincerely,
A Recovering Nice Guy

**

Here's a pseudo-response I made to that post about girls screwing up nice guys.

What happened to all the sweet girls?

Well, fellas, the answer is simple: you did.

Again, think back, really hard, to a time you used to have the best girl-friend in the world. She was a sweet girl, and for some reason or another, she enjoyed spending the brunt of her time with you. She liked baking, and always saved some of the lot to give to you as a gift. She'd play video games with you all day long and stuff herself with 8 slices of pizza while she's at it, watch every single one of your games, cheering at the sidelines, armed with a face towel for your sweat, and her ready congratulatory hug, or a sympathetic pat on the back, and even dispense fashion advice whenever you had plans of going out to try and impress the new chick you wanted to claim as your own for the week, while willingly offering a female perspective when you're sick and tired of the cat and mouse game your new prospect was putting you through. All the while, this girl seemed to be devoted to making your life easier.

You probably thought nothing of it at the time - shrugged it off as female prerogative. Girls are famed for having a nurturing nature anyways, aren't they? But then your buddies started noticing that she seemed to be paying special attention to you and they start teasing you for it, putting doubts in your head. You thoughtlessly and crudely deny ever harboring any romantic notions towards this sweet girl, going so far as to claiming you probably never will. After all, she wasn't your type. Maybe she was a little too small, or a few pounds too heavy, or she didn't dress herself well, or she didn't have perfect teeth, or her eyebrows were a little too thick, or her face a little too long or too dark, or wasn't popular enough, or basically fit into the same category as your hot piece of ass during then. She was sweet, modest, a little shy in the company of other people in contrast to the "other girl's" bitchy confidence which appealed to you and intrigued you to no end.

Over time, you and your favorite gal pal drifted apart, as you and your girl of the moment got more serious. Surely, seeing her no longer held any appeal now that you had a girlfriend. Eventually, while you developed a want for a long-term relationship, the sexy, popular bitch you loved cheated on you with another guy better fitting her standards, or became boring, or too controlling, or you realized that she wasn't in it for the long haul. So, now, you’re once again single, and after having searched long and hard, in different kinds of places, for several months, having only encountered the same kind of girls, you wonder, "What happened to all the sweet, caring, serious girls?"

AGAIN, you did.

You ignored the sweet girl. You used her time and affection to fill a gap while searching for seemingly greener pastures. Her love went unrequited. You dismissed her notions of romance as fantasy. You gave more value to the aloof girlfriend over the attentive "just-a-" friend. In time, she grew tired of waiting around for you and decided to move on with her life. She, one day, came to realize that men don't fall in love with girls who remember their favorite color; or bake their favorite pastries; or religiously watch all of their games; or fawn all over them; or hug them just because; or throw surprise parties for them; or talk to them intellectually. She came to the realization that if she wanted someone like you, then she'd have to become like the girls you dated. She probably lost some of the excess weight, learned to dress in a more feminine manner, started to become bitchier, and generally treated other people like shit.

Fact is, she's probably stringing along more guys than your fingers can count right now, not unlike the girl you chose over her back in the day, and in a way, you and your ultimate rejection of her is to thank for that. And I'm sorry that it took the absolute absence of "nice girls" in your life to make you realize that you've missed them and they were the ones you wanted. Sweet, caring, women, if there are still any, can't be found just anywhere, after all.

So, if you're looking for a sweet girl, here's what you do:

1. Build a time machine
2. Go back a few years and try to control your libido
3. Take a look at what’s right in front of you and grab ahold of it.

There is, of course, the possibility that you still don't want a nice girl, but have just grown tired of the chase; the never-ending, unfulfilling chase. You may just be getting older, developing a gut, losing your looks. In which case, you may be in luck, because the sweet girl you claim to want has, in reality, shed her sweet girl skin and is out there looking to unleash her practiced apathy, resentment, and cynicism onto someone just like you.

If you were a little hotter and a little richer.

So, here's the deal: either stop misrepresenting what you want, or own up to the fact that you’ve completely fucked this girl over, as well as yourself. It’s time to stop with the bullshit and deal with reality. You didn’t want a sweet girl back then, and she certainly doesn’t fucking want you, now.

Sincerely,
A Recovering Sweet Girl, Essa

Picture This

Picture a living room. A living room alive with laughter and merriment on a somber, rainy day. A living room with 4 kids having nothing to do at home; no way to spend their time. That image in your head was the start of our day.

Out of sheer impulsivity and utter boredom, Drei, ate Iyay, kuya Jap, and yours truly decided to head down to the furniture shop to look at bookshelves and cabinets. I've been looking for bookshelves for the longest time now, so that I may display my books in all their glory - and so that I may turn part of the room into a miniature library of some sort. I found 4 potential shelves, but am truly undecided in that area. Sad because I still haven't picked one and we badly wanted to do something that will occupy the rest of our afternoon, we decided to just get some paint and materials and color my room in a shade that suits me.


Once we've arrived home, armed with paint and determination, we ask our driver and some of the boys to mix the water-based paint while we moved my furniture. The rest of the day was spent with laughter and fooling around. Ate Blu and Kuya JC arrived just as we finished painting the first coat. Not wanting to miss out on the fun, Sev took one of the spare rollers/ brushes and started painting her heart away while kuya JC watched Angus and looked for movies to download in the desktop computer at the upstairs living room (which serves as a sort of common room for us siblings.) Dad arrived soon after and was shocked with the change! Feeling inspired, he agreed to reimburse the expense I spent (awesome!) and to finance the re-painting of kuya Jap's room as well. Still in good spirits, he treated us to a late afternoon snack before heading off.


We start painting kuya Jap's room next Wednesday; when all of us have free time again -- and out of the hundreds of colors to choose from, my brother picked Old Rose to sort of match my Violet Essence. Trust us to be twins until the end.

We'll be heading off to the bookstore now, either to just freeload or purchase books, we still don't know. We Pamandanans are nothing if not impulsive after all.

Happy Camper,
Essa.

P.S. Photos added!

P.P.S. Back home from the bookstore! Went crazy and bought 9 books. Now officially flat broke with bills coming my way in 2 weeks. ARGH!!! Going crazyyyyy. Also, planning a garage sale very soon! Watch out for it!

The Bucket List

In light of the recent death of former Filipino President Cory Aquino, I've decided to make my very own bucket list.



Things to do before kicking the bucket:

1. Write the story of your life.

2. Watch every James Bond film.
3. Sing along in a music store.
4. Build a snow cave.
5. Get in the record books.
6. Travel the world.
7. Run in fancy dress for charity.
8. Blow a month’s wages on shoes.
9. Paint a self-portrait.
10. Bury a time capsule.
11. Leave behind a million dollars.
12. Compose an original song.
13. Plant a tree and carve your name.
14. Go on holiday with no luggage.
15. Have a night at the opera.
16. Become fluent in a different language.
17. Play an elaborate practical joke.
18. Host a cocktail party.
19. Spend Christmas Day helping out.
20. Meditate for 3 hours in one setting.
21. Spend a week at sea.
22. Win the lottery.
23. Skinny dip at midnight.
24. Design an original dress.
25. Spend the night in a haunted house.
26. Make fire the old-fashioned way.
27. Swing through the air on a trapeze.
28. Horse-ride through the surf.
29. Start a mini library.
30. Make your own pasta.
31. Swim with something big.
32. Sleep outdoors watching the stars.
33. Create an online alter-ego.
34. Cook something you’ve grown.
35. Sky-dive.
36. Swim in the ocean.
37. Catch a fish and eat it that day.
38. Brew your own beer.
39. Learn to throw a boomerang.
40. Adopt a baby.
41. Surf and snowboard in one day.
42. Build a tree house.
43. Compete in a ballroom competition.
44. Pash a policeman on New Year’s Eve.
45. Do a Roar & Snore at the zoo.
46. Give a homeless person your lunch.
47. View a house you can’t afford.
48. Hire a house boat.
49. Go trekking, carrying all your gear.
50. Build something that will outlast you.
51. Research your family tree.
52. Go to a bedding store in your PJs.
53. Shave your head.
54. Get involved in a protest rally.
55. Make a crowd sign for the cricket.
56. Leave a love note on a windscreen.
57. Build a giant sandcastle.
58. Blow a kiss to a bikie.
59. Wear fancy dress for a whole day.
60. Spend an hour in a lift.
61. Get your fortune told.
62. Make a baby laugh.
63. Make a snowman.
64. Make love on the beach.
65. Help out at a soup kitchen.
66. Send flowers for no reason at all.
67. Watch the sun rise.
68. Watch the sun set.
69. Make a cake for the teachers.
70. Take the day off on your birthday.
71. Spend Christmas Day in Lapland.
72. Make a heap of autumn leaves.
73. Walk through knee-deep mud.
74. Tell your Mum you love her.
75. Have a night at the ballet.
76. Take evening classes with a friend.
77. Take tap-dancing lessons.
78. Write a letter to your grandchildren.
79. Smile at 100 strangers.
80. Read the plays of Shakespeare.
81. Do a first-aid course.
82. Act on stage.
83. Google yourself.
84. Visit your parents in a limousine.
85. Live off the land for a week.
86. Listen to your iPod right through.
87. Fast for 48 hours.
88. Skip with your kids along the beach.
89. Take a vow of silence.
90. Send a cryptic note.
91. Give blood.
92. Write to your favourite author.
93. Walk a marathon.
94. Contact your childhood sweetheart.
95. Give an emo a big sloppy kiss.
96. Pretend to be invisible.
97. Buy some outrageous sunnies.
98. Wind up a security guard.
99. Send a message in a bottle.
100. Make a kite and fly it.
101. Test-drive a car you can’t afford.

102. Backpack through Europe.

103. Go to a foreign country without a map.
104. Go to a strip club.
105. Get a lap dance.

Will add more along the way, and will strike the ones I've done after finishing them as well. (=

Have YOU ever thought of what you wanted to do before you move on?

Contemplative,

Essa.

Nothing Prolific

I know I have been neglecting my blog for quite some time now, but really, I'm out of school and have nothing else to do except read, and I know that reading countless book reviews would be boring to some. For those of you interested though...

Here's what I've been up to:

I braved the rain and had coffee at Starbucks with 2 of my bestfriends, Mack & Maria, last Sunday at Julia Vargas. Maria picked me up at home and then we got ourselves lost on the way to Mack's. After about an hour of roaming around, we were finally able to locate the elusive address and hauled ass to get our caffeine fix. We settled down, caught up, and talked about friends from back in the hell hole we call High School before parting ways.

Mack decided to sleep over at my place, a ploy to get me to "help" her make a reaction paper about a museum they had to visit - which of course, we did at the very last possible minute. I introduced her to Veronica Mars, a show which I still mourn for, and now she's hooked as well! We watched half of the first season the entire night, before meeting the sand man. Once we've woken up and broken our fast, we decided to take a jog around the village but found ourselves on the swings instead. After deciding that we were too lazy to exercise, we just decided to go home and read. She borrowed some of my books, a fact of which I am proud because I was the one who got her to appreciate reading. Right now, she has with her my copy of Nicholas Sparks' "The Notebook", and the entire e-book collection of the Bridgertons by Julia Quinn.

**

I have a fan page in facebook now! Haha! I don't know what compelled me to make one, probably the lack of face-to-face socialization. Anyways, click HERE to become my fan! Don't be shy, click click!

I'll be updating my layout, adding my fan page widget and twitter widget (thus letting you all know that I am very much alive) after publishing this post. I've been more active there because it enables the scatter-brain in me; random musings, a seemingly never-ending flight of ideas.

**

Once every blue moon, I venture beyond the confines of my home and join the real world. Tonight was one such night. My friend, Juice, celebrated her birthday a couple of hours ago and I found myself putting on a dress and donning some killer booties. Bare-faced, I bonded with my gliteratti friends and enjoyed immensely - of course, being myself, I only did this for 3 hours (really, that's quite a feat for me. And yes, 3 hours isn't nearly enough time to go clubbing if you're my age.)

I saw my college buddies, reminding me of how much I missed them and how much I missed. Every one is part of a couple now. So happy for them! Also, ran into a childhood friend of mine, Ral, and met her lovely bestfriend, Isa.

Had Drei and ate Iyay pick me up immediately after Maria left with Keiko and Bianca and ate longsi from Goodah! Yumm. My favorite midnight snack.

Overall, I'm still enjoying a life filled with ennui.

Peace & all good things,

Essa.

The Secret of a Good Relationship is...

You have to keep the fights clean and the sex dirty.

- Kevin Bacon

This quote reminded me SO much of Kate Sheffield & Anthony Bridgerton from The Viscount Who Loved Me and Christine Derrick & Wulfric Bedwyn from Slightly Dangerous. Haha!

Photo is from: crazybeautiful@tumblr.

With Love,

Essa.

HP On My Mind

All thanks to brother dear, I got to watch the advanced, no ticket-sale screening for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.


In light of recent events, finding out that I would be able to watch the first-ever screening of the latest movie installment in the Harry Potter franchise has been quite the pleasant surprise. I've been antsy the entire day, looking at the clock every 5 minutes, willing it to move faster. Finally, the time has come for us to leave the house.

Now if you know me at all, you'd know that I'm a die-hard Harry Potter fan. The first Potter book was the first ever book I finished reading by myself back when I was 11 (and even then, I finished it in one sitting!) I personally feel emotionally attached to the series, and every year, during my birth month (YES! FATE! I even share the month with Harry and authoress JKR), I would bug my dad to get me the latest HP book. 4 Books into that, the first movie came out and even whilst I found myself disappointed, I've always had a special place in my heart for them. I grew up with these kids. They are my memories. When the 7th book came out, I read it in record time and I found myself crying and applauding, basically looking like a lunatic, after turning the last page. I felt robbed and bereft of something I anticipate all through-out the year, annually. Nevertheless, I consoled myself with the fact that I would still be waiting for 3 movies. Now the list has been cut to two, and again, I'm starting to feel the coming of the end of an era.

The Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince movie has been the most different out of all 6 movies. This time around, the movie focuses more on the teenagers than the adults. Indeed, they hardly had any screen time at all (except for Michael Gambon's Dumbledore and Jim Broadbent's Slughorn). The kids are older, experimenting more with relationships. The book, probably the darkest of all 6 books, differ a lot from it's movie adaptation. The movie has been the funniest so far and I kind of enjoyed that feel to it. In contrast to Ron and Hermione's and Harry and Ginny's relationship (or lack thereof) woes is Draco's thirst to prove himself in the dark side.


The verdict? The movie was okay. Just okay. Nothing spectacular, but not completely disappointing in it's entirety. Jim Broadbent made a wonderful Slughorn, coming alive in every scene. Tom Felton's performance, in my opinion, was the most outstanding. He was fantastic! He really captured the inner conflict Draco was struggling with -- wanting to prove he can avenge their family name but at the same time, realizing that being the regular school jackass is a lot different from being an actual death eater. Another great performance was that of Helena Bonham Carter as Bellatrix LeStrange, but that needn't be said. She is terrific in everything. This movie is a refreshing change from it's predecessors. I daresay the fans of the book may have contrasting feelings (such as myself) about the movie, but overall, it wasn't a complete waste.


And I have to add, EVERYONE GREW INTO THEMSELVES. The movie is full of beautiful people. Even creepy Cormac MgLaggen stole my heart. :P

Wizard kid,
Essa.

Polaroid Madness

In this new age of state-of-the-art digital cameras, Polaroids have become a thing of the past. And while I scour ebay for a Polaroid camera that has my name written on it, I have to make do with photoshopping an endless stream of photos I wish to add to my Polaroid wall. The authenticity isn't there, and the exposures and rawness of form of Polaroids are lacking, but beggars can't be choosers. Nevertheless, here's a few I'm having printed and adding to my wall. Hopefully, they aren't that bad.



















Voila! Polaroid Madness for the moment.

Pretty happy,
Essa.

4:56 7/8/9 -- 10

An idea borrowed from the Wizard of oohs and ahhs and falala's, Mr. A-Z.

Precisely at this moment, my clock says 4:56 07-08-09. In honor of this momentous event, I, probably along with more than half of Jason's readers, offer up 10 things I'm grateful for:

1.) Books, books, and more books.
2.) Post-birthday high (along with the birthday gifts!)
3.) My very loud, very boisterous, very rambunctious clan (and our love for each other)
4.) Very good music from incredibly great artists
5.) Non-stop soul searching
6.) Coffee (because nothing is more calming)
7.) The weather
8.) Dogs!
9.) The premier tickets for the Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince movie (no matter how shallow some people might think that sounds)
10.) Thrifting -- because one man's trash is another man's treasure.

Take, for example, these glasses I found:













The grade of the lens aren't a match to my eye grade, but that can easily be remedied. All I have to do now is have the lens changed and voila! New Vintage (he he! oxymoron...) Glasses. The last person I can remember seeing with glasses this huge is my Paternal Grandfather who passed away almost a decade ago. Here's to you, Gramps.

On cloud 9,
Essa

P.S. Forgive the quality of the photos, they were taken via my laptop having just woken up from sleep -- with no shower, teeth unbrushed, face unwashed.

My two pennies worth.

From the mind of a keen observer of the human condition:

I find it strange how people are more affected by death when a public figure dies than when someone they actually know/ knew passes away. Just because they didn't have the same range of impact doesn't make it any less tragic.

I'll say it one last time and that's it for me -- RIP MJ.

We've all paid our respects. We've all paid our dues. Stop being hypocrites -- he was capable of terrible things and you were all ready to hang him before his death. He left a debt of 400 million to his children -- where's your sympathy for them?

Not to say that he wasn't great. He was a great performer. Really, it was a loss to music, a very sad day for music. His talent was unquestionable, unfailing until the end, but this does not mean that he was a devastating loss to the human race.

What really irks me is that his swarm of admirers seem to have taken little to no account of all his sins. We are not all immediately fated to be either sinners or saints. I'm sure Hitler had done some good deeds in his life, were those taken into account? I'm sure Nero didn't just think "Hey, I think I'll take the Roman empire down" the minute he was able to think for himself -- does anyone care about that? Why is it that we so readily want to put a stamp in their epitaphs -- good or evil? Can't we accept that these are PEOPLE, all of which has had some good points and some bad points? Do we always have to label? Can we feel sympathy for him but not pretend like we didn't give a rat's ass about his misgivings (because really, that's what everyone is doing)? Why is it that you don't see normal, regular people spam their pages with tales of despair when someone they know dies? Is it just another case of people jumping to join the band wagon?

This entire thing just seems to resemble a charade than an actual time of grievance to me. I'm sure emotions were not faked, but why does it have to be broadcasted world wide?

It's a terrible terrible state of affairs when one is only exonerated after death (not to say that he deserved or didn't deserve to be vindicated.) Just my tuppence worth.

Confuzzled,
Essa.

No rest for the wicked.

Yestertuesday, my sister and her daughter arrived from The Land of the Merlion. We haven't seen each other since forever ago when a couple of my siblings and I visited her family there last March. Stoked to be seeing their beautiful faces, I was part of the entourage who volunteered to brave the roads at 4 in the morning to pick them up at the airport. Famous to my family as being a creature of the night (or early morn), when I own the moment, Papa the Rolling Stone tasked me with making like a rooster and waking them all up from their slumber. I do as I am told -- shaking bodies, irritating voice and all, disturbing their peace and depriving them of sleep. They roll out of bed, bleary eyed and throaty voiced as they scramble off to their respective bathrooms hurrying to get ready.

As we leave the house, annoying habits emerge. Nail biting, finger tapping, lip biting, tongue clucking as we anxiously await their arrival. We look at the terminal, not once blinking as we search the near-empty area for a familiar face. Suddenly, my eyes focus on on two lone figures. Their faces are covered half-way by masks -- a must for travelers thanks to the A(H1N1) pandemic. My heart thumps, my breath catches. "They're hereeee!" I scream when I'm sure it's them. As they spot us, a feeling of rightness takes place. Completion. We hug, we kiss, we laugh as all of us try to dim out the sappiness of the moment -- no Pamandanan is sappy. As this is happening, Hugh Grant's speech from Love Actually plays on my mind. Airports truly are one of the happiest places on earth.


We load their luggage and we ride the car, all as if nothing has ever happened. We pick up right where we left off. We stop by a McDonald's, break our fast, and head home. As we arrive, the house becomes alive with laughter and merriment. The dogs are excited, the house help are excited, we're excited.

Our bodies soon feel the fatigue as days of preparation decide to take it's toll. We are lucky, for the visitors feel the need to rest as well -- thanks, red-eye. We wake up, not so long after just closing our eyes. The day awaits!


None of us are that eager to venture outside the confines of our home, but 2 of my sisters and I have been wanting to chop off our hair. Goodbye, long locks. You've been a friend, but the heat is infernal and I need to take refuge where I can.


The evening found us at my Aunt's dining room, shamelessly finishing her grocery stock. We looked at old photos and did more catching up before beautiful dawn called on us and good manners dictated that we allow our Aunt and her family to rest.

On that note, I'm allowing my fingers to rest and will get back to you with more updates on the morrow. DVDs, I hope you're ready to damage my eyes even more.



ALL GOOD THINGS,
Essa

Succubus Mum

I just finished reading the latest book on Richelle Mead's Georgina Kincaid series and I am left with a thousand of spoiler-ish questions that I presume the author would not answer.

Before you look at me that way, yes, I dare speculate, COULD A BABY BE ON THE WAY FOR G & S?! Man, I hope so.

Aside from the fact that I LIVE vicariously through the characters in the novels I do so love to read, I just wish to put a damper on the whole Seth-Maddie nuptials. Yes, kinda bitchy. But I'm team Georgie all the way! Besides, I'd like to see how new roomie -- and ex boyfriend -- Roman would deal with the pregnant succubus... as well as how her demon friends, and angelic one, would respond. I have a little part of me that's shipping for Georgina and Carter (you can't get more star-crossed than that!), and well, all hope is not lost yet.

To stress the point more about Nyx's version of Georgina's future... I gotta say I'm not convinced that G getting Godiva was purely coincidental.

I guess I just have to wait for the next book, out April 2010, to satiate my curiosity. Ugh. It cannot come out soon enough.

On the bright side, The next Vampire Academy is out August! YAY!

Dorka-dork dork,
Essa

Friday, I'm In Love.

There's nothing that warms the heart more than a pup that's only got love to give. Cats may be less maintenance, but who says high maintenance is a bad thing? Dogs are loyal and sweet -- and indeed, man's best friend.

My good friend, Alyssa, had to go out of town for a few days and had nowhere to leave her precious new toy poodle, Friday. Wanting to help out, I offered to let Friday share the house with my sibling's shitzu, Kiwi, and my lhasa apso, Nana (because really, they're the masters of the house).

We expected to enjoy having Friday over, what none of us expected was to fall in love. Friday has managed to creep his way into our little hearts and has firmly demanded to stay there.

Just to share with you kiddies the adorable-ness that is Friday, here's a picspam:










View all of the pics, in raw form, over at my multiply!

Peace & All good things,
Essa.

Fashion Week '09 Picspam

Took my good friends, Zara and Chrissie, to M. Barretto's show for Fashion Week 2009.


Waiting for the show to begin...


Chrissie and I


Chrissie, Meself, Zara


Zara and I


I seriously missed this girl


Tired and out for a cigarette break


My outfit... inspired by:


The beautiful Charlotte Casiraghi!


The collection... and proof that there are higher beings.

In Joy,
Essa.