Ssssaaaaapppp
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Let’s get this out of the way first: some fucktard stole my phone Friday night, so for those who have my old number, please scrap it. I have a new number and will get around to contacting you guys soon. Maybe after tonight’s Project Runway re-run. Thankie.
Okay.
Just got back from the 6th Ateneo National Writers Workshop and I feel pretty damn good. I’m not really one to give a day-by-day account of the entire thing, but I am one to gush. And gush. And gush. And gush. Yet, even though I expected myself to prattle on and on about the many great things that happened during the workshop, I’m actually finding it hard to type anything down. There were so many aspects that made the past week priceless: my fellow fellows, the panelists, the staff, the discussions, the conversations, the nights out, the nights in, etceteraetceteraetcetera. I can’t seem to bring myself to write about these. There’s too much to say, and as hokey as it may sound to those who weren’t there, I would rather keep the happy thoughts to myself because I’m a fucking sap that way.
I feel so honored to have been part of it. At the same time, I feel so correct. This past week was exactly what I needed. In fact, there was this moment yesterday during the mini-plenary that said it all. We were taking turns sharing our writing experiences, and towards the end of my turn, I was trying to find the right phrase to use when I saw everyone at the table nodding already. They had understood what I wanted to say before I could even say it, and that just summed everything up for me. It felt incredible to spend time with people who just knew, who have gone through the same things I have as a young writer in different places, times and ways,
Who were camwhores. Hawhaw. I’ll post photos once Camille gets around to uploading them. Pressure, pressure.
But seriously, the week was glorious.
posted by marguerite @ 9:15 PM
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Let’s Get Whiny!
Saturday, October 21, 2006
There is such a big difference between The Killers’ Sam’s Town and Hot Fuss. Huge, huge difference. I’m in no mood for a hardcore music review right now, but I just have to say that Hot Fuss is the better album. With the exception of “When You Were Young,” which has an incredible melody, incredible lyrics and a wonderfully bothersome video, the rest of Sam’s Town isn’t that arresting. Way too much going on, I think. Sounds too, um, American, as opposed to Hot Fuss’ you’re-sort-of-British-pero-nah-hindi-rin feel. So of course it broke my heart when Brandon Flowers admitted to using an accent for Hot Fuss, whatever that accent was. Gademmet. I hate sophomore syndrome. I mean, I’m not averse to experimentation, progression and being more honest with your sound, but come on, this is just frustrating.
Okay, I listened to “Where the White Boys Dance” again, and sige, that track’s pretty good too. But I stick with my contentions. Hot Fuss is more disco-on-the-highway, Sam’s Town is more marching band-in-the-desert. And I’m chained to the city, baby.
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I wonder what they’re like.
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Halatang wala na akong pasok.
posted by marguerite @ 10:11 PM
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First Sem is Finito
Friday, October 20, 2006
Pumpkin and I went to the Jesuit Residence to pass our Fr. Nick papers this afternoon. We were sort of hoping to see at least one near-dead priest get wheeled out for some sun. I guess we just found it fascinating, this need to be brought outdoors for sunlight because you’re so old.
*creak creak creak creak clunk* Go, Lolo Jesuit. Photosynthesize.
Unfortunately, we didn’t get the privilege. But the workshop’s next week (YAAAAYYYY!!!) and the fellows will be staying near the Residence, so I just might get another chance.
Forgive me.
posted by marguerite @ 3:45 PM
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I've Been Dealt!
Sunday, October 15, 2006
The Deal’s been Sealed. But if anyone out there’s expecting some evil tale (hi Crisgee), I regret to inform you that no acts of sadism and/or debauchery from either end occurred. The blind date with The Victim was pretty painless since the both of us weren’t the dating type at all. It was pretty much how I had imagined it: two people eating and talking about favorite albums, films, TV shows and all those other little introductory tidbits. It felt very normal and un-date-like, and considering what I believe to be the nature of this thing we call the Blind Date, which may harbor much apprehension due to faulty pairing, those 3+ hours were an accomplishment.
Thus, the award for Best Dealer goes to the Industrial Firefly (as proclaimed by the Industrial Firefly). Let us all kiss/slap his phosphorescent ass (as desired by the Industrial Firefly).
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In accordance with The Deal’s tenets, I met up with the Punchdrunk HegEmoness and the Industrial Firefly right after and participated in a night of wandering.
By the end of said wandering—
Three victims of the modern age. One security mirror. The promise of lifetime banishment from 7-11.
posted by marguerite @ 2:06 PM
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Drowning Girl
Friday, October 13, 2006
| Who Should Paint You: Roy Lichtenstein |
 Larger than life, your personality overshadows everyone in the room A painter would tend to portray you with a bit of added flair! |
My faaaaaavorite Lichtenstein piece:
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Classes for the first semester ended today. Good riddance, Roche. However, since my random number for my final semester in Ateneo is 579, I am bound to end up with another monster or two before I graduate. Fine. Tolentino, Tejido, Roche, Jimeneeb, Guidote, etc. What's one more sem with a couple of whack jobs?
posted by marguerite @ 4:55 PM
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Mandatory Post-Fever Entry
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Coffee, toast, coffee, tea, coffee, tea, toast, tea, coffee, antibiotic, coffee, coffee, soup, antibiotic, tea, toast, toast, antibiotic, tea, coffee, toast, tea, tea, tea. Tea, tea. Heehee.
Been sick the past few days. First, horrid dysmenorrhea. Then so-so dysmenorrhea and a slight cold. Then a full-fledged, mucus-tastic cold, with me writhing around in a web of gooey Kleenex. Then a drippy cold and a slight fever. Then the type of fever that stops you from smoking. Then, surprisingly enough, recovery. There didn’t seem to be anything in between. I was dying on the couch just a few hours ago, but now I feel fine. A sneeze and a drip here and there, but that’s okay.
Now all I need to do is make it through my finals and it’s workshop tiiiiiime. Glorious.
posted by marguerite @ 10:41 PM
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The Deal
Friday, October 06, 2006
The Players
from left to right: The Punchdrunk HegEmoness, The Girl in the Dirty Shirt and The (Considerably Grungy) Industrial Firefly
(The photo is very blurry, yes, but I suppose this is fitting considering the Premise.)
The Date
October 14, 2006, Saturday, evening
The Venue(s)
3 restaurants in the Diliman/Katipunan/Katipunan Extension area
The Premise
Phase One
Each Player shall participate in a more-or-less blind dinner date as arranged by the other two Players in the name of pure, sick fun. Note that the nature of the Players suggests the inevitable adherence to this said pure, sick fun.
Phase Two
After their respective dates, the Players shall reassemble at a 4th restaurant or coffee place in order to
a) narrate their respective experiences earlier that evening
b) give a frank assessment of their respective Victims
c) snigger
d) cry (optional)
The Victims
I am not stupid enough to elaborate on this portion of the Deal, although rest assured that potential Victims for each Player were painstakingly deliberated on. The term “painstaking deliberation” equates to “wheedling the potential Victims through text messages until one of them finally caved.”
The Rationale
Because.
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And about yesterday’s thesis defense, it went well. Seriously. Much better than I had feared, especially since I went into one long, painful panic attack the night before. But since I’ve only had a couple of hours of sleep since then, I really don’t have the drive to elaborate on anything right now. What’s important is that I made it through. I wasn’t pummeled. I made it through. Tapos.
posted by marguerite @ 5:11 PM
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The Gall
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
My thesis defense is on Thursday afternoon. 2:30, which means my lunch has been given a couple of hours to break down into a smoother blend of chuck-up for me to up-chuck on my beloved panelists. As of now, I only have one panelist, Mrs. Kenny, my vamp of a Writing for Film professor and the person who knows my topic all too well. She will eat me alive, and do so in a very classy, Greta Garbo way, which I suppose should be amusing enough to lessen the pain. Or not. Escaler and Ty have yet to confirm their panelist-dom, so save for the impending “I critique screenplays for big budget Hollywood films and you have the gall—the gall―to hand in this drivel and expect to me to respect you? Oh, honey. Ha. Ha. Ha.” speech from Kenny, I have no clue what’s going to happen to me.
Thus—
Because when you’re thisclose to the Comm senior’s World of Pain, all you can do is offer one final display of shamelessness.
posted by marguerite @ 3:44 PM
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