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What, No Retro?
Sunday, December 31, 2006

Here are a few of my favorite photos taken this past year by me or by others with my ratty-ass phone and by others with their respective phones and cameras, ratty-ass or otherwise:

breakfast at the house of decadence.
1. Breakfast at the House of Decadence.

pretty bhoy arrrrrrrrrkaye.
2. Arrrrrrrkaye, so-and-so pounds ago.

kiss carl kiss.
3. Carl, um, Carl.

the morning after i pushed carl into the pool.
4. The morning after I pushed Carl into the pool.

lost in the library.
5. Lost in the National Library.

6. Exploiting the Wall. (taken by Whammy)

faggy haggy.
7. At the 12th. (taken by the PunchDrunk HegEmoness, if I'm not mistaken)

poke her.
8. A rocket in your pocket. (taken by Javie)

the deal.
9. The Wenches and The Deal (taken by Wench Eigenmann)

10. Victims of the Modern Age

bang, bang.
11. Wench Eigenmann and Wench Sotto in Their Natural Environment.

12. The Moon, but Not. (taken by the Octopus.)

13. It is Okay to Fry an Octopus. (taken and doctored by the Octopus.)

Comes nowhere near to describing this year.

posted by marguerite @ 5:31 PM


Bee Happy
Friday, December 29, 2006

Jollibee assaulted me the other day. Adrian and I were walking down EDSA Central and saw him coming towards us, so I smiled and waved. (I was trying something new. A crack at Christmas cheer. Trying to be nice to fast food mascots this time around, having been hostile to them in thought, word and deed for so long. But judging from how Jollibee treated us, it’s war again, bitch.) I thought he’d wave back or dance around or do some other happy bodily movement standard amongst such foam-muffled humans, but instead, Jollibee patted Adrian’s belly a couple of times, shoved his gloved hand up against my face and waddled away. I’m not sure if Jollibee’s patting Adrian was mean-spirited (we suspect, of course, that it is something much more lascivious), but what he did to me was definitely not a gesture of friendship nor a guised attempt at promoting foodstuff. I now desire retribution.


Did a quick shoot with Pubey Boy for some newspaper spread the purpose of which he is not certain. I have become more certain, however, that I cannot do glamour photography. I can’t direct people for shit. I can’t tell people how to pose, can’t tell them how to move, what to do. And the thing is, I used to be such a Nazi back in high school. I used to have my talons all over every aspect of production for our piddling short videos, unafraid to seethe and screech at everyone to do exactly what I wanted for every scene, no matter how early it was (call time was always 3:30 a.m., and I’d always be there at 3, raring to get all auteur on their asses) or how tired or uncomfortable they were. I used to be monstrous. Now I feel weird just telling my friend to tilt his head up a bit. Something went screwy somewhere along the way.

posted by marguerite @ 8:39 PM


Retro Specks
Monday, December 25, 2006

If any year deserves an entry full of sap and vagueries, this has got to be it. It is Christmas day, yes, and there are six days left in 2006, more than enough time for something else to happen. But considering how things went last year, Christmas 2005 was that final scrap of time before life began to snowball for me, so I think it is only fitting to write this now.

Last year, the day after Christmas, someone asked me how I was. And I told him that everything felt so still, it was scary. Neither good nor bad things were happening, and my days were just so open to anything. It felt dangerous. And then he told me, without making it sound like that much of a cliché (although it probably is, and I’m just this contrived), that it was the calm before the storm. A few minutes later, I received a text message that started it all off.

It tires me to think of all that happened since then. It seemed like every week, for the past twelve months, something incredibly painful or lovely or ridiculous was brought into the fold. Just when I was getting used to some huge alteration or revelation, something else would come careening in. I don’t regret most of it. In fact, this has been a great year, especially if “great” concerns making the most of every moment given me. It’s been mind-melting. And I like mind-melting. I like it when my brain’s all over the floor.

posted by marguerite @ 9:18 AM


The Merry Merry
Sunday, December 24, 2006

Dead in bed yesterday thanks to fever, watching cable movie after cable movie. Even braved the re-run of the Six Feet Under series finale, which I knew was going to make me feel all fucked like when I saw it the first time. Bawled at the last scene again. Was finally able to sleep at four this morning.

When I woke up a few hours later, I was still feverish and had a very urgent desire for a hoodie. The thought of having one nagged at me, so I ran off to the mall and its mad and maddening mobs despite my temperature and bought one. But it was elusive, the hoodie. I only found a nice one when I was just about to give up, having gone in and out of the same stores with their same-looking clothes and same-looking customers twice. It is an orange hoodie. It is loose and soft and warm and safe-feeling and the moment I bought it I ran to the nearest washroom stall, took my top off and wore it. I felt so much better once I did. Casual. Invisible. Invincible.

I bought really nice-smelling lotion right after the hoodie in an attempt to bolster this thrust for comfort. I slathered it on right before typing this, and now I feel all slinky.

I guess this is what the hollow holidays do to me. I need layers. I need to be coated in some kind of benevolence.

posted by marguerite @ 5:36 PM


My Eyes are Heavy
Saturday, December 23, 2006

I finally have internet in the computer hole again. I could cry.

I probably woke up on the wrong side of the floor this morning. I’m smeared all over with a certain weariness.

The last week was all about languor: slouched in restaurant booths and coffee shop couches with friends, poring over Philo readings on why having faith in God equates to the complete lack of prerequisites and Theo readings on how integral evangelization is an absolute prerequisite for all in the Kingdom of God. After I got rid of my long tests, I started spending my Christmas break schlepping through the malls along with everyone else in the city. Bought a few gifts. Watched Inang Yaya because Fr. Nick told us to (it’s not bad—the yaya-amo disparity was portrayed pretty well—although my snarfing down 2+ doughnuts while watching it nagged at me more afterwardsI’mfatI’mfatI’mfat). Braved a migraine and met up with Teddy for some screenplay mind-wracking.

Last night was exceptionally hollow because of my visit to the House of Decadence. The Christmas party has always been a big thing among ViCe for the past few years, but this year’s, to be perfectly honest, was tedious. Barely anyone was there, and although it was good to see the few who came, the lack of people didn’t result in much. The thing bombed, basically, and no amount of weed-laced spaghetti could save it. And it was strange. I left Matimtiman early to go to the Caracoa launch, and the moment the cab swerved into Katipunan, I felt considerably different. Not better, this high school thing still had the ability to get me all lethargic the rest of the night, but there was a striking change. It saddens me that my ties with high school have become this murk I have to slog through.

Fortunately, all that languor was alleviated by the octopus.

posted by marguerite @ 11:19 AM


I Hate My Womb
Tuesday, December 19, 2006

I had one of the worst lower body attacks very early this morning. The pain, which woke me up at 3 a.m., consisted of severe dysmenorrhea, severe indigestion and severe hunger. Felt like dozens of large crochet needles hooking themselves to my insides over and over again. It came to the point where I was screeching to be taken to the hospital because I was dead sure it wasn't just some fucking "girl problem." It was worse than the time I passed out in the CommDep washroom stall, worse than the time I bled all over the floor during Math class, worse than the time I woke up screaming in my dorm bunk because it felt like someone was going at me with a chainsaw. Couldn't begin to imagine what was happening inside me. I think I passed out at around 5.

I woke up a few hours later because I had a Philo long test (which I most likely bombed because I can't explain myself for shit in Filipino no matter how well I understand the texts) and realized that I was back to the single-knife-in-vagina kind of dysmenorrhea I was more used to. Regardless, I am now at CTC, wishing my cunt would just fall off.

posted by marguerite @ 12:29 PM


Sunday, December 17, 2006

My computer hole's still internet-less, so I hauled myself over to the Very Intelligent Couple's place for some false sense of communication. Oh, and to spend some quality time with cousin Whammy, whose mohawk is gone and who is, therefore, in need of someone to help him mourn his loss.

I have two long tests this week, both of which will be very painful no matter what I do, and I will resume my studies tomorrow. For now, however, I would like to drown in what could only be described as glee. Besides getting a gig that could possibly evolve into a full-on screenwriting job in the future, or could at least help steer me towards some sort of legit direction upon graduation at long, long last, I read an email this afternoon that had me grinning like a moron the rest of the day.

So fucking excited. I don't want to get too riled up over it, though, since it's not that tangible just yet, but it's great news in any case. And like all great bits of news, it came out of nowhere. Would never have seen it coming. And whoever else is reading this is probably annoyed by my refusal to describe the damn thing, but, well, tough cookies.

posted by marguerite @ 6:47 PM


Thursday, December 14, 2006

Got tired of the popcorn template.

The phone at home died a few days ago, so I've been internet-less for a while now. A more decent entry to elaborate on this shall follow. For now, I will meet up with the HegEmoness and memorize the Evangelii Nuntiandi.

posted by marguerite @ 3:19 PM


Ich Bin Scharf (und Rastlos)
Sunday, December 10, 2006

Finished two papers over the weekend. And the jar of ube, too. But an entire ube cake has just been placed in the fridge and now I want to cry.

I was blown away by Orientation, this short story by Daniel Orozco. Drives me nuts how great it is.


posted by marguerite @ 7:42 PM


Balutin Mo Ako
Thursday, December 07, 2006

I've been very lackadaisical even after the supposed storm. I guess my state-of-mind has changed drastically since the first semester, pulverized by thesis work until all that was left is the lump of random reason I'm making do with now. In connection, I am currently at RSF, killing the 2+ hours I have left before I have dinner at 3 Sisters with a handful of Bayaws. I am not working. The previous set of words are both a description and a declaration.

I would now like to talk about ube and Bituing Walang Ningning.

There is a full jar of Good Shepherd ube jam in our fridge at home. I discovered it last night, and I am equal parts horrified and happy. I eat whole jars of ube jam in one sitting. Or nick other people's ube dessert rations until someone gets mad. That's just the way things are. I am genetically and spiritually predisposed to ingest large amounts of ube. When there is a jar of the stuff in our fridge, I will clean it out. I wonder if I can bring the jar to 3 Sisters. Although that wouldn't really be a good idea because then I would have to share. But I want ube. I want to go home.

Next topic.

Ever since Fr. Nick made us watch the original Bituing Walang Ningning for class, I've been giddy about it. It was the big concert scene at the end that did me in, the one wherein Sharon Cuneta (whom I always suspect of smelling like old pancake make-up and mayonnaise in any film she's in) hands the mic to Cherie Gil (who sings better and probably doesn't smell too bad) mid-song. I could have cried. I didn't, but I could have. I'm sure the kitsch had something to do with my emotional response, but I'm just as sure that Sharon's show of power in the guise of relinquishing power had something to do with it, too. (Here. Sing. You will never be happy. Eeeeeeeeee.) The song was still in my head on the way home. The balutin mo ako part, anyway.

It's almost six.

posted by marguerite @ 4:48 PM


Sunday, December 03, 2006

So the weekend didn’t turn out to be as cruel. It was very random, but it was a randomness that I think served me well. Too much coffee, too much sugar, too much time, but I think I expended my energy in an okay way, through a relatively unproductive weekend that I felt no guilt over.

I spent Friday and Saturday night with Carl and Em. The three of us, from now on, shall be referred to—in this blog, in cars and in whatever hole, dingy or otherwise, we find ourselves curled up in—as the Wenches for expediency’s sake. And for other wench-like sakes we can think up of.

Last night, Wench de Mesa (who is Carl and please please please don’t make me explain the reason behind the new last names) and I, Wench Gutierrez, were waiting for Wench Sotto (who is Em) when someone a few blocks away decided to break the calm with fireworks. They were unusually loud for fireworks that didn’t really look like much. Storming of the Bastille-loud, the type that insisted on everyone’s panic. We stayed in our seats. The fireworks were not visible from where we were sitting, but their reflection could be seen on the glass facade of the building across the street, partly-split by large steel window frames. God knows what they were really for, but they didn’t seem celebratory to me exactly. My seeing them did not complement some past event in my life that needed commemorating but, rather, alerted me of all the lovely messes ahead.

posted by marguerite @ 8:30 PM


the girl

Pasig City, PH.

Damned the man, saved the empire.




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