I Rule My World!

Though I’m not in the mood to weave pictures with words, let me weave words with pictures then…

This is the one-act opera the Voice Department sponsored. "Amahl and the Night Visitors" by Gian Menotti  was a real treat for the kids and the young-at-heart (aka ME!) This set of actors weren’t the same one I watched, but they did have the same costumes—so what the heck?!

Snow pictures!!! It’s actually fun when you’re bundled up. Well, at least in my eyes–nakakamangha pa sya. Winter wonderland everyday! :-)))) From left to right: (1) snow cake?! (2) AU Campus with PMC at the background.(3) my live snow pine! (4) beechwood apartment parking lot (5) going to church. nakatalikod si ate arnie. (6) wala lang–obvious naman, diba? (7) mishawaka ice show. syempre eto pinaka maganda sa’kin.

Mabuhay ang mga Amba sa Andrews!!!!

My practice room—at may bantay pang ulo…

Another wala lang picture—wala lang tao. Ahihi. I’m usually one of the early birds kaya grab the chance na ang mga practice rooms mag pose para sa akin.

Si Mareng Lilianne!
(lagot ako pag nakita ‘to ni Dr. Doukhan dito) ;-)))

POINT OF GRACE. Well…anong point? Para ano pa. Sabi ko nga eh.
Get my point? Ayun lang. Batukan ko nalang kaya yung hindi nakatingin sa picture…

Some snapshots from Dana’s surprise birthday party…

 

Cutting the already "cut" cake… (may mga atat kaseng mauna sa celebrant)

The signature Asian "peace" sign

Bakit ako lang naka make-face???

(above) John, Dana, Muah, Rochelle

(right) Dana-san and Yokito

Uso pa ba ang harana?!

Actually, tntry lang nya yung $40-dollar guitar na nabili ni Dana somewhere.

Mga other friendships ni Dana na nagtitiis makinig kay John.

Ano daw yun?!

…and the party goes on…

I wrote this blog yesterday night in hopes of wasting your time again on reading my posts… Anyway, so I met this guy from Romania who has this amazing story of how he got to Andrews by winning the lottery! Wow. San ka pa?! He said it was one of those nights where he got together with friends and got challenged to join an online lottery. Apparently, the prize included a US resident visa of some sort. To make the short story shorter, he found himself studying in Andrews a few months after and is about to graduate on May.

…I saw his poster the other day announcing his senior violin recital. That lucky guy.

I still marvel at the fact that I didn’t have to spend the whole day enrolling for school. Just a few clicks in the AU enrollment website and voila!…my life for the next four months is once again, officially on the roll.

Spent the first week guessing what the weather would be like, hence I found myself wearing several layers of clothing in an amazingly humid, snowless January; high heels on a rainy day (add a bonus library tour at James White for Research class, wherein which the professor made a joking comment, "you seem to be wearing the wrong shoes today"). Add to that the lengthy threats—er, introduction to what my classes would be like for the rest of the semester (and I would like to quote the same professor again when she said ironically that "this class is easy, you just have to reserve 15 hours each week for assignments". Yeah right! Sometimes I think if she just have this wicked sense of humor). And the news of all news–Surprise, surprise from the music chairman! The long awaited theory placement exam has finally come to judge my mental abilities–at least in the context of music theory, for surely I would fail in other areas. Thankfully, Max, THE theory graduate assistant was willing to give me a crash course last Friday afternoon, cramming in four semesters worth of studies to three hours, and even giving me a ride home afterwards.

At least, my job in the library went a notch down from boring to less boring. Plus, there are new workers where whom we can pile book shelving on. Mwahaha!

Yep, yep, yep–I’m on the roller coaster of the vicious cycle of student life once again.

Might as well do this while I have the time to tinker with the computer… Truth is, I know I should be posting the new syllabi and study guide for Dr. Doukhan’s classes in the D2L site. However, technical errors (nga ba) prevents me to do so. So here I am sitting in front of the computer waiting for the computer administrator’s response to my SOS…which I hope is any minute from now.

I used to loathe office work. I always thought it to be as boring as.. i don’t know…boring as a peanut? Hehe. But I take that back. I actually enjoy making calls, taking calls, (yes, I still fear talking on the phone on a professional level–but what doesn’t kill you will ultimately make you stronger, right?), typing stuff, and being "administrative"-ish.

Got my own desk and PC. Oh so cool.

…have to go. My next job is waiting for me.

You know those scenes in movies where the camera would be outside the window giving the audience an outsider’s view of the main character’s life? Often times, I think and see myself that way. Like I am watching my life as an outsider would. Weird noh? I guess, it comes from this age when most of my growing up years were reared by a lot of TV time–Batibot and Sesame Street, in the mornings, Eat Bulaga (when it used to be aired in Channel 2) sa tanghali, Agila, Anna Luna, Mr. Kupido, Ang TV (4:30 na! Ang TV na!) in the afternoons, Ula, and Grimms Fairy Tales, Ok ka Fairy Ko! in the evening (apparently I didn’t get as far as to watch other shows because of my early bedtime). Saturday nights were reserved for Mask Rider Black and Shaider, Takeshi’s Castle, and Crystal Maze. Sundays would favor me with Eh Kasi Bata!, Sa Linggo nAPO Sila, Ipaglaban Mo (remember Atty. Sison?–"ipaglalaban ko, hanggang sa dulo ng mundo!"), Tonight with Sharon, and Million Dollar Movies. Ah, those were the days.

Ironically, my mom would pray for me every night—"At sana po hindi na maadik ang anak ko sa TV." She even posted this poem in my room about the TV being the devil and all that. That totally creeped me out and delved my precious kiddie hours instead on reading Uncle Arthur’s Bedtime Stories, or playing with paper dolls, lutu-lutuan, bahay-bahayan, tinda-tindahan and every other imaginable pretend game a girl could concoct. I even pretend to fly by putting a mirror under my eyes. You put the mirror right side up thus reflecting the blue skies or whatever’s up there. Placing it beneath my eyes gave me the idea I was walking on clouds or on the ceiling. Oha–Superman na, Spiderman pa!

When I discovered the wonders of synthesizer, my playtime was put to a whole new dimension. May sound effects na ang play time ko. San ka pa? I would ride this bench with the finesse of a skilled motorcycler, turn on the electric fan in front of me, and put my toes on one key of the synthesizer. Vroooooooommmmmm!!!! (Code 88) Beep, beep! (Code 86). Or I would be a hunter in the forest (Codes 80-85 for all manners of forest sounds). Of course, I didn’t go anywhere far kase I didn’t have an extension cord. However, the best one I really liked was mountain climbing. I remember we had this green nylon folding bed that was really sturdy. I would put the other side of the bed on a higher plane and pretend to climb it from the lower side. For harder obstacles, I would put socks on so I would slide on every step. When I get tired of this, I would simply slide and think I was falling into a deep hole. At syempre, laging may sound effects yan.

As I got older, my pretending became more subtle. I don’t even have vivid memories of how TV influenced my teen years–except that I imagined Ariel Rivera to be my boyfriend, that Sharon Cuneta was my neighbor, that the Gwapings went to school with me, and that Patrick Garcia was my undying suitor. Indeed, I lived a star-studded life.

Now, I live in my own show. I do things and pretend to watch I do those things. I practice and memorize lines and say them like any skilled actress. I am even my own publicist. Hence this blog.

Someone get me to an asylum.

I just hit a writer’s block. No amount of "inspirational moments" have inspired me to write something sensational. I am even at a loss for creative synonyms to avoid using the same words in one sentence (and even too lazy to reach fo the nearest thesaurus). Funny how the more things happen to me, the less I write about them. My hand is simply incapable to record the scenes dancing before and around me. But what’s funnier is the more I recognize what blocks me, the more I am freed. That’s it. Just one paragraph of incorrigible blab and my pen is well-oiled once again…