3 more days twilighters

Come Saturday, I will be curled up in bed reading Breaking Dawn, the last of the Twilight books. Of course, before the "curling up in bed" scenario, I'll probably be elbowing my way into Barnes & Noble, possibly physically hurt 13 year olds in the process of getting my pre-ordered copy (you don't know how obsessed these kids are of Meyer's books so I expect bedlam!), and most surely end up with a few dead toenails (there will be stampede and pandemonium -- remember that I'll be in the midst of teenagers with hyperactive hormones who will run and claw there way just to have the book).

I'm expecting the very worst of course. But I'm ready. And at the end of the day, I shall hold the precious book in my hands. (This is where you'll hear my diabolical laughter.)

magnanimous angels

I am so happy today. Positively radiant. Beeming with joy. If you scroll down you'll read my entry "Perfectly Imperfect" where I yakked about my sorry state of literary limbo because I didn't have a laptop or a computer here. Well, magnanimous angels read that piece and sent me a new HP notebook yesterday. And I'm happily tip-tapping its keys right now.

Thank you to my Tito Ed and Tita Mae who gave me this wonderful gift. This is actually more than just a laptop, this is an antidote to my depression and madness. I never even asked for this but they've generously given it to me as a gift because, and I loosely quote "you have given life to your Lola Exal by continuing her legacy with your writings". Lola Exal, my late grandmother was a playwright, a poet, and the only Komedya writer (in the province of Antique, Philippines) of her time (well, until now actually). She has written at least four full-length Komedyas and I know that I pale in comparison to her great talent.

But armed with this 21st century weapon -- the notebook -- I will try my very best to make her proud of me. I'm actually excited and apprehensive right now. I'm excited because of this new gadget but apprehensive that it might zonk out on me. The last time I had a laptop was a year ago. The thing died an unnatural death after my daughter decided to give it a bath with orange juice. After that depressing incident, I made do with the family's desktop and somehow managed to survive the pain (of losing my freaking files). A word of advice though, never become too attached with machines, gadgets, and other mechanical or electronic gizmos. One wrong move, a freak accident, or the presence of dangerous 3 year olds and they will eventually break your heart (more than your ex-girlfriend or boyfriend ever did!)

So what's next in my agenda? I guess I'll be writing like crazy now -- and no more excuses!

star-struck

It's disgusting how embarrassingly pedestrian (i.e. predictably groupie-ish) I can get when a famous celeb walks on the same street where I'm walking while being hounded by the paparazzi (the celeb, not me). Yesterday, I was possessed by a star-struck demon and almost groveled on Alex Rodriguez's gigantic feet (encased in expensive, black leather shoes, no less) in Park Ave. in Manhattan. Eeww! I'm not even a Yankees fan, ergo, not an A-Rod fan. But one look at his towering height, massive shoulders, and green eyes and I was ready to take out the pom-poms and do some death-defying cartwheels.

I was aghast when I caught myself shamelessly asking him (okay, begging was more like it) if I could please have a photo with him. Ugh! Embarrassing! Was that me saying those words? The poor guy (yeah right, he's impoverished with his $250M paycheck as opposed to me being nearly broke, hah!) was trying to get away from the paparazzi and there I was trailing after him like a homeless puppy without a leash. He apologized to me by saying, "I'm so sorry, I can't stop right now" and looked at me with his penetrating eyes. Huh?! My brains turned to mush and I almost keeled over on the sidewalk. I looked at him with glassy eyes and sputtered incoherently. I swear I probably looked like I was mentally handicapped and I was quite positive that my brain was literally melting like an ice cream under the sun during a Yankees vs. Mets game. If my skimpy black shorts were a tad loose, they would have fallen off my waist right then and there at the corner of Park Ave. and 60th St. My worry now is, will I be TMZd?

dark night

It was a truly dark, disappointing, hot and humid night last night when I and two of my friends were not able to watch "Dark Knight" as planned because all the tickets to the time slots that we wanted (which were not in the wee hours of the morning) were sold out. Apparently, all the residents of the 5 boroughs of NYC had the same idea as the 3 of us and trooped to the movie house this weekend like lemmings armed with pre-paid, reserved tickets. Ugh! We ended up venting our dark frustrations on Mama Mia! and thankfully went out of the theatre a notch happier humming "S.O.S" and "Dancing Queen".

We'll give it one more try next Thursday. We're planning on hitting the streets of NY early to catch the first show just to get the frustration out of our system.

In the meantime, I'm bracing myself for major challenges this week. Batman is actually just my way of forgeting my woes. There's more to my life right now than watching brooding billionaires in black briefs (hmm... now that would make an interesting tongue twister, don't you think?).

perfectly imperfect

The thing about my present predicament that I deeply resent is the fact that I don't have my own pc or laptop 24/7. Ever since April, I've been moving from one sibling's house to the next and this has disrupted my literary life. I can't blog as often as I want to and I can't even write my column anymore. I'm thinking of getting a cheap laptop, something temporary, but even temporary laptops cost a lot of money (as if there's a disposable version I can just throw away after I've used it for an hour or so and which would cost me 99 cents). So right now, you could say I'm in a state of (literary) limbo.

I'm trying to write down all of my thoughts in a steno notebook, but without Google and a thesaurus by my side, it's so hard to write. Which makes me think, am I going dumb or am I just making excuses?

This week, I've been jotting down bits and pieces of my everyday life: my weekly commute, my crazy and impossibly long train rides, getting lost amidst dozens of people who seem to know where they're going (while I don't), my friend Mr. Loneliness who has an on-going hot and torrid affair with my other friend Desperation, my secret affinity (and on-and-off addiction) to what I call "Bolshevic roll-ups" which I'm not quite ready to reveal yet lest my clueless mother reads this blog or this column (if I do decide to have this published), my over the top obsession with Stephenie Meyer's Twilight saga which is not even intended to be read by people my age (gah, I feel as ancient as Edward, the book's undead hero), my libidinal relationship with canned sausage (er, that didn't come out right), and all the other inane and not so inane concerns that I have regarding my impending future. How can I blog or write about these now when I can't even sit in front of a computer for longer than 30 minutes?

These few months have both been hell and heaven for me. I'm like a sieve sorting out the bad from the good, the happy from the utterly miserable, the pitiful from the triumphant. My experiences have run the gamut from ecstatically sublime to down-in-the-pits-of-hell gloom. It is appalling to be this close to being Bipolar and I can't even self-medicate because, hey, this is America. You can't just go to the nearest pharmacy and buy a bottle of Paxil. The closest to peace that I can conveniently have right now is a capsule of Tylenol pm. Ugh!

But don't fret, people. I've been here before. I don't know for how long and how far (but only within the confines of North America) I can last and go, but I will try my best to push myself up until the moment when my brain together with my heart finds a solution to my predicament. In the meantime, I'll tip-tap away using my nephew's pc and blog and bitch like everything is perfectly imperfect.

Happy Birthday Babies!

To my two beautiful babies: you make my heart sing with happiness. Happy birthday to both of you! I know that someday you'll demand for two separate parties, but hey, you've got a smart Mom and I planned this well by giving birth to you a day apart, so really, you don't have much choice -- for now.

When you're older, I know you'll be embarrassed at my syrupy declarations of love, but what's a Mom like me to do? I think I'm the luckiest mother to ever walk this earth. To have given birth to two beautiful, smart kids -- I can't ask for more.

I love you my babies. You are my love and my life.

a tickle, an answered prayer

I've been receiving a lot of emails from people regarding the flood and typhoon that hit Panay Island in the Philippines. I better get the word out there and make this blog more than just a vehicle to rant, rave, and vent. I'm using this to appeal to all those who have generous hearts to please help the victims of this recent disaster.

Here's a look at the devastation which my friend, photographer Leo Solinap emailed to me: Typhoon Frank

Also, here's a part of an email from my aunt (who is an Assumption nun based in Thailand) that I also want to share especially to those who want to make a difference in people's lives:

"The Assumption sisters are going to facilitate donations to the victims of the Typhoon that devastated the lives and homes of people of the towns of Antique, Sibalom, Iloilo in the Philippines. Here in the United States, please make your tax-deductible check payable to the "Religious of the Assumption" and mail it to:

The Assumption Sisters
c/o Sr. Mary Ann Azanza
11 Old English Road
Worcester, MA 01609

If you feel the tickle to send something, be prompt and send it. That's God tickling you to be His answer to the pleading prayers of the victims. After all, we are the best vehicles for God's answer to prayers."

The sisters in the Philippines have also opened an account. Make your checks payable to: "Assumption Sisters Typhoon Aid". If you're in the Philippines, you can mail this to any Assumption campus (or in Iloilo: Assumption Iloilo, c/o Sr. Clare Cecilia, Gen. Luna St., Iloilo City, 5000).

I know how resilient we Filipinos are. We'll survive this tragedy. With YOUR help.