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Tuesday, January 23, 2007

This is another post about a dysmenorrhea attack, but I don’t think this is like any of my other entries where I just whine about my ripped uteral lining.

I got my period in the middle of PolSci class this morning and started getting the usual bad cramps a little bit after that. Used to this type of very mean pain, I met up with Javie for lunch at the Cervini Cafeteria. Kael was there, and after hanging out with him for a while, Javs and I finally sat down for a meal. Which lasted three bites.

Got really nauseous and broke into a cold sweat. Couldn’t even walk properly to the comfort room since my legs were giving away from the pain and my vision was getting all spotty. Told Javie that I really needed to get home, and even the walk to his car was a nightmare. It was on the drive to Pasig that the pain got really ridiculous and I started falling in and out of consciousness. I think Javie was talking to me all throughout, and the one sentence of his that I remember is “I’m so glad I have a dick” or something like that. All I could say was the word “hospital,” and the next thing I knew, we had driven up to Medical City’s emergency room and I was being lifted onto a gurney. When I came to for the bajillionth time, I had been lifted onto another gurney and wheeled next to a wall. Was given pills, had my blood taken from me a few times (that medtech was rough, gademmet) and answered a few intrusive, hospital-like questions. Javie had a kick out of the whole deal, obviously. He is a good and sadistic friend.

I’m home and fine now. But yeah, sometimes, most especially when my uterus starts acting up (and boy, did it today), I reallyreallyreallyreally wish I had a dick, too.


posted by marguerite @ 6:02 PM

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Sunday, January 21, 2007

ooga booga.
A Few Things I’ve Learned from Immersion besides the Usual “We Take a Lot for Granted” and “Our Country is Squalorrific” Sentiments:

1) I am envious of Angel Locsin’s charisma.
2) I can last two days fever- or sore throat-free without a cigarette provided that I don’t have schoolwork.
3) That Jesus prayer every 3 o’clock in the afternoon still scares me to this day.
4) Sleeping beneath a kulambo puts me in a good mood, so I guess that every time I get into a hissy fit, someone should just throw gauze over me.
5) People will always laugh at me when I do the dishes. (This has been an issue of mine since forever. Apparently, there is something about the way I soap and wash utensils, I don’t know what, damn it, that is very wrong, and it makes whoever is watching me giggle with much condescension. WHAT IS IT WHAT IS IT PLEASE TELL ME PLEASE BECAUSE I SWEAR THE FORKS ARE SQUEAKY CLEAN WHEN I’M DONE WITH THEM I SWEAR)
6) I cannot deliver a heartwarming speech.


posted by marguerite @ 1:39 PM

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Thursday, January 18, 2007

Will be away for immersion tomorrow. I was assigned to Nagpayong, Pasig, one of the program’s urban poor sectors, and will live with one of the families there until Sunday morning. While most students travel far for their immersion sites, Nagpayong is roughly twenty minutes away from my own home. Regardless, the place is unfamiliar to me since I, a supposed life-long Pasigueña, have never actually been to Pasig proper, which I guess sounds pretty stupid. Where I live, although technically in Pasig, seems to be more on the outskirts of several cities—Pasig, Mandaluyong, Quezon City, Makati, even—and has never seemed to belong to any particular one. The Pasig I know is Mall Land, basically, and there’s not much else I can really say about it without coming off like capitalist scum. Which I am.

I have no qualms about my site, though. I’m not bothered at all by the “dismal” living conditions our immersion formator, in his spiel to what he obviously saw as a group of I-want-my-Frap-now-na prisses, prepped us about. Warned, more like it, which annoyed me a bit. But I don’t want to get into my own spiel about how this school requirement can’t help but be tinged with condescension oh look I just did. I’m perfectly fine with the thought of seeing human shit on the streets and sleeping on the floor and coming across cat-sized rats and working at a market and hearing people videoke all night and pumping water for the supposed horrors of the Urban Poor Sector Bath. During the orientation, these, apparently, were the issues we would have to face, and somehow, no matter how much the formator tried to scare the crap out of us with his stories, I was just sitting there, waiting for a catch that didn’t come.

This isn’t to say that I’ll breeze through the weekend. I most probably will be harrowed. I am not trying to make myself look like some big-headed, cold-hearted toughie (although god this post really is coming off that way). But the thing is, and I swear I mean this, the thought of getting harrowed doesn’t make me anxious. I feel more anxious of the fact that immersions are inevitably centered on that idea of feeling great discomfort, that the family I am going to live with will see me to some degree as a privileged kid out for some really difficult, near-traumatizing field research. That is what’s gnawing at me a little, the thought that my host family will see me as someone who sees their life as a source of trauma, and the weird wall that will arise from that. It is not fair to either of us.

Of course, that is also what fascinates me about the whole thing, that chance to feel and observe an inescapable tension. I think I just negated myself. I am scum. I will go pack now.


posted by marguerite @ 7:30 PM

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Monday, January 15, 2007


So my father had a heart attack yesterday. It happened in the morning, but I only found out late in the afternoon, through my cousin Whammy. He thought that I already knew about it and asked me if I was worried that my father was in the hospital, and I just stared back at him in complete confusion.

I was worried. I'll give the man that. I have to admit, however, now that a whole day has passed since the event, that it was that generic brand of worry that all people feel when they hear that someone, anyone, had a heart attack. That eensy-weensy little twitch harboring sincere shock and concern. Other than that, I mostly felt perturbed. I wasn't exactly sure how to feel, considering that this is the person half-responsible for my existence and wholly responsible for that layer of rage spread thick or thin beneath most everything I've done in my life so far. He is the reason why I grind my teeth at night. I hate him and I owe him.

I heard he's better now. Nevertheless, the event did push me to really mull over certain things. I realized that if ever it does get worse, I probably will show up if need be, after roughly a decade. It's not like everyone at a funeral wants the stiff up front breathing again anyway.


posted by marguerite @ 3:23 PM

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Sunday, January 14, 2007

I am not yet technically eligible to answer this survey since I have around a couple of months left till graduation (provided, that is, that Rosario finds it in his heart not to fail my ass after the word wars we’ve had the past two weeks oh wow I can’t believe I said those things actually I do but the fact that I almost failed all of my tests so far because they were in Filipino has put me on edge oh no I am jinxing my chance of breaking free because of a blog survey), but I have nothing better to do. By better, I mean something that I would actually want to dedicate my time to, and at this point, working on plot points to the horror story that is my horror film job is not exactly enticing.

Thus, allow me to reveal my almost 4 years in the Arrrneo.

(Nicked from Vittorio.)

Student Number?
Will something bad happen to me if I give this away?

College? Course?
Ateneo de Manila University. AB Communication.

Nag-shift ka ba/na-kick-out?
Comm was my first choice and I never wanted to shift to anything else. Until this semester, wherein my standing in Rosario’s Philo class is somewhere around the my-professor-is-dead-set-on-making-my-final-orals-hell-because-I’ve-been-really-mean status, I have not experienced the risk of getting the boot.

Saan ka kumuha ng ACET?
Ateneo High School.

Favorite PE?
Arnis. Hitting people with long, hard rods in a marshmallow suit was a religious experience.

Name your 4 PEs:
1-1: Arnis (I was beaten by this really, really butch girl during the finals)
1-2: Physical Fitness for Women (this was when I was 60 lbs heavier, so, um, yes)
2-1: Lecture/Foundations of Physical Fitness and Health
2-2: Recreational Activities!!! (special thanks goes to Jazey Baby, my RegCom whore, who made sure we both got slots so we could learn how much we suck at billiards)

Favorite Professors:
Isabel Kenny – my vampy Writing for Film professor and thesis reader
Quark! – for showing Window Water Baby Moving, the vagina film brouhaha, etceteraetceteraetcetera
John Labella – he pretty much saved my hide
Andrew Ty – *thunderclap*
Stephanie Coo – another vamp I highly admire

Pinakasikat na Prof:
I guess it’s Ty for me. *thunderclap*

Nakapag-field trip ka na ba?
My immersion in Pinagbuhatan, Pasig (Urban Poor sector) is this Friday. Moscki, my Fil14 professor, took us to Banahaw (got stuck in the Husgado for about 10 minutes and cried, which basically meant the mountain spirits were especially hard at work on absolving me of my sins, went up the Kalbaryo and was so physically drained that I stopped talking to people and almost cried, and crawled back down in the evening dark till my palms were raw and I think I cried) and to the ABS-CBN studios (we were in the MTB audience when Asia Agcaoili’s boobs fell out of her mermaid bikini top as she was being tossed in the air). Do the SHN trips count as field trips?

Orgs/Frats/Soros?
Heights, Association of Communication Majors, Loyola Film Circle. I'll shut up now.

Tambayan?
The PubRoom back in third year, second sem with Mommy HegEmoness, Oreo and Crisgee, but I really spent most of the my free time the past few years across the street in random eating establishments. Sweet Inspi’s air-conditioned smoking hole merits special mention.

Paboritong fishball?
Sa UP back in freshman year.

May suki ka bang bananaQ vendor?
Wala e.

First play na napanood mo sa Ateneo?
Some TA thing. I will shut up, too.

Name 5 of the coolest orgs/frats/soro
May ganoon?

Saan ka madalas mag-lunch?
I think Twinks, Em and I paid for Sweet Inspi’s new curtains, at the very least.

Nakasama ka na ba sa rally?
No. I adhere to a pro-active brand of apathy.

Ilang beses ka bumoto sa student council?
Once, in freshman year, because the entire block felt sorry for Glenn, our rep.

Nakipagtalo ka na ba sa prof mo about politics?
Yes, in last sem’s Ethics class. My professor looked a little scared. I think that was the time I realized that I was a full-fledged capitalist.

Sinong student council chair nung freshie ka?
No idea.

Sinamahan ka ba ng parent/s mo nang mag-enrol ka nung freshie?
Went with my mother.

Nagtaka ka ba kung saan ang TBA?
No.

Sino first ever nakilala mo sa Ateneo?
Mommy HegEmoness! She was our liasons officer or log person or something like that and she helped me submit my excuse letter for ditching the OrSem the next day.

Magkakilala pa rin kayo hanggang ngayon?
Yup. (Hey, Wench.)

Ano first ever class na pinasukan mo?
English-something with Labella. I loved him from the terror-stricken start.

Masaya ba sa Ateneo?
I really don’t know how to answer this question. This isn’t to say that I didn’t have a good time. In fact, I did, but I know it wouldn’t be right for me to say yes.


posted by marguerite @ 12:22 AM

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Thursday, January 11, 2007

oof.
This is me getting blessed by the Ox’s good hoof. The other hoof was a bum one at the time, and this is photographic evidence of the good one exerting its erstwhile superiority.

+++

In an attempt to make up for the big bore that was the Christmas party, a handful of ViCe and some newfound cohorts met up last Saturday for beer and KTV. I stick by my contentions. Yes, we had an okay enough time at the seedy song joint, had an okay enough drawn-out conversation back at the House of Decadence and had an okay enough breakfast after. But that was about it. You can only dedicate your nights to delighting or griping over shit you did when you were sixteen and in a more hormonally-heightened, romanticized state of mind for so long. Not to say that my head isn’t clouded up with gunk any longer, but high school was admittedly extra-extra-foggy. And now that college is almost over, whatever dramatrauma that consumed us back in Makiling when we were much younger and inexperienced doesn’t seem to be worth my time anymore.

This realization might sound overdue to most, but the thing is, there was a time when my ties with high school seemed to be the only thing that kept me conscious in college. I latched myself onto those four years with such viciousness. Thus, I can’t help but make a big deal of the fact that finallyfinallyfinally I am dead sure I am not on that motherfucking mountain any longer.

And I am glad. That place did just as much harm to me as good.


posted by marguerite @ 7:08 PM

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I Hurt
Tuesday, January 02, 2007

I have not had a cigarette since the year began and I’m getting all antsy. This is not some resolution on my part; I'm having the worst case of sore throat I've ever had. Nodes, actually, which are apparently much more brutal. My throat stings and I'm not even doing anything to my muscles. I can’t swallow anything, including my own spit, without feeling lots and lots and lots of P A I N. Pain at its most base. A pain that is pure and painful.

Almost everything I’ve been ingesting is piping-hot liquid or piping-hot near-liquid, including, fortunately, one of my favorite mushes: beginner’s lugaw. Beginner’s lugaw is regular rice boiled in hot water and topped with rock salt. I love beginner’s lugaw. It tastes so clean and basic. I will have more once I’ve finished this post, although I’ve had so much hot wetness in my mouth that most of my taste buds are fried.

electra.
Because of my nicotine-less-ness, I prowled the house earlier this afternoon with Electro, Octopus’ laglag-panty-retro manual SLR that I may possibly call mine after this roll of film. (We might swap SLRs once we figure out their swapability.) Took photos of my grandparents like they were housecats, mostly. I hope the shots come out alright.

My throat really hurts.


posted by marguerite @ 4:57 PM

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the girl


Marguerite.
23.
Pasig City, PH.

Damned the man, saved the empire.

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