Thursday, November 24, 2005
The Number Game

Never is the number of times my essays in Fil should be read out loud in class. What the hell? And here I was thinking - Nah. Nobody does, and not like it even made sense. You see, its long been established that my written work in Filipino could very well be as valuable as the newspapers lining them chicken cages. I write like crap. There are really good essays and stories I’ve read in tagalog, the authors had their respective styles and had the skill to generate a particular feel to the text. However, there is only one way I write in tagalog - which is to say, I formulate ideas then crudely translate it into Tagalog. You can imagine how screwed up that gets. Basically, you have a translation but no edge or whatnot, just an awkward or banal translation. Don’t even get me started on “balarila,” which is grammar. Last time I checked, it was bordering on attrocious. On the first day of class, our Fil teacher made mention of some examples - apparently “Nalaglag ako sa hagdanan” is incorrect and “Nalaglag ako sa hagdan” is the proper usage. Or the other way around, I forget.
Enough digression. Our teacher has this knack for reading out selected essays, she never reveals who wrote it though, unless of course you blurt it out loud. I believe she was using the essays she made us write to asssess our personalities and writing style and all that jazz. Imagine my mortification when the second paper she reads is mine. Me ~ acts nonchalant. She really shouldn’t take those things seriously. You can’t gauge a person with one measly essay. I think she pegs me as a brooding, anti-social type with pent up emotions. What the fuck? Must’ve been because she missed the humor, likely because my title was “Ipinanganak sa Ilalim ng Blackhole(?)” and my opening statement went something along the lines of ~ ‘If I were doing something else right now, I’d be planning to take over the world.’ Anyone who knows me knows for a fact that this is the kind of thing I’d say in normal conversation. They’d also know I don’t mean this in a dark, sinister, I-hate-the-goddam-world way. Eurgh. But like I mentioned earlier, I write like crap in tagalog so no supreese there.

(Which is not to say that I wont take over the world, though. Or rather, the next one.)

39 is the number of times our Physics teacher said “I guess” this week, and that only accounts for when I was conscious enough to tally. Last Tuesday, he said “I guess” ten times in ten minutes. And he wore red twice. The man likes red. Oh, and he only said “Perhaps” 6 times. I didn’t count today, I was busy with “I guess.” Seriously, I have a special tally sheet. …What? I have to do something other than copy down his bloody notes.

5 is the number of girls in my Judo class. Ah well, better than last week’s count- which was 2.

3 weeks and 6 days is how long before I officially come of age. Blah. Plans still hazy. Gay bar will be last resort.

5. Lately the average hours of sleep I’ve been getting. My, my, I’m a living breathing zombie.

0. The ideal number of ludicrous napkin commercials allowed airtime on televesion. Of course this doesn’t include tolerable ones, though napkin commercials in general are mostly just iffy. Whilst I was flipping channels a while ago, I happened on such a commercial. You know the kind where a bunch of women just happen to engage in a rather strange conversation about their pads?
Like women actually prance around and have nice little chats about napkins. Think about it in realistic conditions - where exactly does one insert the subject of cottony soft pads and wings in a normal conversation? It's just too pathetic for words.
I mean for godssakes, do men go around comparing their knickers?

On second thought, don’t answer that.

A lot. Technically not a number, but I don’t have enough fingers to count the glitches in the damnable GoF movie. Off the top of my head, there were 2 things I found nice - Lucius Malfoy and Barty Crouch Jr. (as he bears a striking resemblance to Seth Green). Rarrr.

7. Is the number of pigs that I have. One of them is a cow. ((Obviously, you can deduce from this last one that 0 is the number of working brain cells I have right now.))

Lastly, with no particular relation to the figures above, I’m inclined to reiterate that less is more. My poppet bitches know what I mean. >:P
Thus spake Irish || 8:09 PM || 1 comments

Monday, November 21, 2005
++Ungood

It's a bittersweet symphony this life...

In a nutshell today I went from blah to blah to slightly depressed to a bit more depressed to slightly more depressed to slightly less. Then I moved to positively delirious and cheerful(?).... Then slightly less cheerful to slightly depressed and disappointed.

...The sky is falling.
...Everyone who's anyone knows that if the wolves comes out of the walls, it's all over.
Thus spake Irish || 10:25 PM || 2 comments

Friday, November 18, 2005
The Age of Enlightenment, or lack thereof

Hello. I've come to the realization that it's rather difficult to recall the dollops of crockery that I've been brewing and mulling over in my head. Besides, this keyboard's brittle. Boo.

I haven't watched GoF yet, though. Still apprehensive about Voldemort. I still believe John Malkovitch would have done him justice, so expectations aren't high. On other news, the Philippines has run into another avenue for future brain drain, no not talking about Nursing. This time its teachers they want. According to my parents who were watching the news the other day, America is now in need of Filipino teachers over yonder shore. Apparently, after graduating from whatever course it is you took up, you can enroll in this training program-mabob and then get work abroad. Subsequently, the demand for teachers is estimated to be until as long as... uh, I forget, but I've been told the demand will still be there until after I graduate. This convenient little phenomenon has driven my parents into random little bouts of 'That's a really nice opportunity. Blahblahblah.' Supposedly the ideal course of action for me after college would be to go through the process mentioned above, get my arse there (presumably lodging with my horde of relatives scattered throughout the states) and then after a brief stint of "teaching" I could "pursue" whatever profession it was that I studied for.
...
Right. I never really saw myself as a teacher. I truly doubt that I have the patience for such a profession. Not that I see much of a future here either. The bridge will be set ablaze when I happen upon it. Needless to say, more will want out. Not like we can blame them. The country is doomed.
ADDENDUM: I find it odd that this doesn't seem to be as widespread as one would think it should be.The whole thing sounds suspicious to me, like hell its that easy. You can't just enroll with some agency and be qualified to teach. Ridiculous.

The more mundane things that happened today include Mikki returning my fencing jacket - he isn't taking fencing anymore, silly lad. And here I was thinking that it was cool that his gay arse was taking a not so sissy sport. Damn. Phht. I have to find someone else to sell it to then. Anyone? Aaaaanyone? And I was somehow bullied into joining a catechism org. What the? I must've been out of it today. Damn thee, Odi. Not like my membership counts for anything, I...um, very likely that I will make myself scarce. Whoopsie. Don't say I didn't tell you so.

I still don't know what to do on the Solstice. By that I mean my birthing day. Doob doob. Can't go on a cruise, too close to the holidays unfortunately. If at the last minute I don't figure it out yet, we could always have an edifying trip to a gay bar. x_X
Thus spake Irish || 2:43 PM || 0 comments

Thursday, November 17, 2005
Off with yir head

Hiss. I was about to vandalize my blog yesterday (I do so miss writing pointless, and downright delirious entries), but no, my Internet Explorer just had to be corrupted. Now it's in a funk and I think tinkering with my computer has only made it worse. I'll have to live off the comlabs for now. Agony.

At any rate, I feel obliged to declare that the second semester is an especially good one. My luck has finally turned around and all my profs seem like decent individuals who will not go out of their way to make my life miserable. If I play my cards correctly, it'll be quite the opposite, really. My math professor is nice, he has notes in abundance and likes to explain in great many detail which gives me a sliver hope. Which is why I am hellbent on deluding myself - seriously - I'm on a campaign to brainwash myself into thinking that I actually like Calculus. This kind of reprogramming just might help, I say. Now if I just keep telling myself that, I might actually believe me.

Other things of interest, yesterday whilst I was sitting beside Amirah in the sec benches, I noticed this luminescent green bug the size of my fist, resting on her shoulder. For a while there I hesitated, thinking perhaps this might be her... pet? Much shuffling about and thwacking later, we parted the evil bug from her shoulder. Bugs. They're out to get us, I tell ye. It was an evil grasshopper mutant, I believe.

Speaking of strange evil bugs (in the best possible sense)- Sir Oca invaded my dream the other day. Now that in itself is disturbing and downright freaky, but it got even worse. Yes, it's possible. The class was being rowdy, I think - the details escape me - the only thing I remember clearly is that he decides to blame me for something and starts throwing an almighty hissy fit. You know how in dreams, some sensations are heightened and everything seems a thousand times worse? It was exactly like that. He started humiliating me in front of everybody with every fiber of his being. It was utterly horrid. After that, still dreaming, I began venting anger (or rage, more like)... then I woke up, still pissed. It was only a dream, but I mulled it over at the end of the day and I'm still slightly disturbed. Almost like it really happened. ~Wyckde dremes these be~

So. In conclusion: Irish *hearts* Calculus. Bugs are taking over. Internet Explorer sucks the big one. And Sir Oca is meeeeeaaan.
Thus spake Irish || 8:49 AM || 1 comments

Thursday, November 10, 2005
Woot Woot

A very Hapy Birthing Day to Neil Gaiman! The sweetling turns 45 today.
Thus spake Irish || 1:02 PM || 0 comments

Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Oh woe is me

Damnable shoes with no backstrap. Had to run around the bloody campus to find out SOM worthy ones. Blah blah. It's a long story, I don't have the energy to recount it right about now. Many thanks to the curly poppy for lending me her pointy sneakers though.

I'll be taking Physics. I hope to God that I get a kind, decent prof. Hopefully, he or she will be as nice as Sir Bau, except with better teaching skills. At least I wont be taking zoology, which means I can stop coming up with bizarre excuses for why I want to change the subject at the ADSA.

Unfortunately, I wont be taking Arnis either. There was only one section left and it was my rotten luck that it coincided with Calculus. Phht. Bugger. And I ask if I can take tai chi - all slots were filled. It was at this point that I started regretting not having taken a gander at the bleedin' schedules. I blurted out the first thing that popped in to mind, which happened to be Judo. Not so bad, I suppose. I can always sell my fencing jacket and use the money to buy judo gear.

Classes. Classes are coming. I'm actually pleased by this , or at least I am right now. I'm certain I'll be eating my words later, but for now I welcome the structured schedule of activities. This vacation has reduced my brain into mush, you see?

Mushmushmushmushmush.
Thus spake Irish || 6:12 PM || 1 comments

Saturday, November 05, 2005
Unbefrickinlievable

That last post must be ignored. Seriously. Everything isn't so horrendous after all. All works out in the end. Peachy keenerific, chaps.

Now to other things -- I'd say 'better' but getting my ezboard accounts globally banned THREE times in a row might not really fit into that category. It isn't my bloody fault, I was trying to further Furiae's cause, dammit. Seems to be working as we've had an influx (an albeit small one, but what the hey) of new applicants. Only problem is, some of them have really attrocious spelling and grammar, much like Mr. I-have-dsylexia-and-I-can't-spell-worth-shit. I thought 'dieing' was bad, but then I ran into someone who says 'acctully' (repeatedly) and 'tramatizing.' Furiae may be a freakhouse, but it sure as hell isn't a grammar freakshow. But apart from that, there appear to be some promising new members.
Later, I shall be off to make more ezboard accounts...mwahaha. Thought they could stop me, could they? I'll show them. *Evil eye*

And I've come upon the epiphany that I want two to three cats (preferrably one will be entirely black) and a dog called Napoleon. I don't think my family likes cats, so that part will have to wait. And if the circumstances allow it, a penguin. No? Fiiine.
Thus spake Irish || 3:32 PM || 0 comments

Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Beyond the Veil

We didn't visit a single cemetary this year. Odd eh? We were supposed to have a picnic on my grandparents' grave (sounds rather sick, I realize) the day before Halloween but as it was raining, my aunt decided to just have an indoor picnic nextdoor. We basically stuffed ourselves with chilidogs and brownies. No grave visiting.

Let's leave it at that. For future references, I have no intention of turning into worm food when I die. I'd prefer to be cremated, thank you very much. It's less of a hassle, and is far more dignified in my opinion. Besides, I wouldn't want my dead body to rot in some bulky, ugsome box for all of eternity.

Oh, and I've finished Good Omens, finally. I kept reading bits of it, then I'd get bored and put it down. Then I'd get random urges to continue reading and when I'd hit a lull in the novel I left it alone again. I spent most of yesterday finishing it, and I must say that I'm quite disappointed that the apocalypse didn't push through. Phooey. Adam, the antichrist, is a wuss. And Pepper blows. There were a lot of funny bits in the book, but there were just too many of those interruptions which get annoying, ever so occasionally. This quote I found muchly amusing, for some reason - "Some great big test to see if what you've built all works properly, eh?
You start thinking: it can't be a great cosmic game of chess, it has to be just a very complicated Solitaire."

Which reminds me of something rather related - eternal life. I've been researching this, and apparently, Islam's version of paradise is getting 72 houris - which is to say, eternal virgins (tha's right kiddies, after using them, they become virgins again). And not only that, once you've decided that your fed up with the houris, you can go right ahead to have prepubescent boys next. And all that, just for the men. The women, on the other hand, have the honor of watching their husbands deflower the houris. Basically, this gives you an idea of what the Islam suicide bombers exchange their lives for. Interesting. I mean no disrespect by this, I'm merely pointing out what their concept of eternal life is.

Hmm. I shall expound on this in the near future, aye.
Thus spake Irish || 7:18 PM || 0 comments