for the future
The Sam Raimi classic “The Evil Dead” scared the living daylights out of me when my dad made me watch it when I was 10. I remember having nightmares about the zombified Linda’s hysterical laugh and vowing to stay away from cellar doors–even though I’ve never seen one–in fear of Cheryl coming out.
no, this isn't from "The Exorcist"
I also remember wanting a chainsaw for Christmas.
Watching ” The Evil Dead,” however, was a painful but necessary initiation rite into the wonderful world of zombie movies. George Romero is now one of my heroes. You’re not my friend if you haven’t seen “28 Days Later” and/or “28 Weeks Later,” the best zombie movies in recent years. And I now judge a vehicle by its capacity to protect me from zombies.
My sister, who is almost as into this as I am, agrees that there is wisdom in having a panic room just like in “Diary of the Dead.” Tweaked according to my personal preferences, the room would include the following:
1. Dozens of screens showing views from hidden cameras strategically placed in various parts of the house. This is a must for all panic rooms.
2. DVDs, lots. In case I get bored monitoring the cameras. DVD collection to include “Mean Girls” and “Kung Fu Panda.”
3. All kinds of firearms imaginable, with tons of ammo to boot. Also, a crossbow would be nice. It won’t be very effective against zombies, but it would be…nice.
4. A sword! A samurai sword!
5. Mountains of food, including the ever-reliable chicken adobo, chocolate chip cookies, and ingredients for making pizza.
6. A personal computer or a laptop with Internet connection and all the music files I need to keep me sane and cool. That reminds me: room will also include drums and a guitar so I can hone my musical skills while I’m stuck there.
6. Books.
7. One to three companions; preferably male, decent-looking, smart, funny, and reasonably strong.
I am so saving this list for future reference.
sweet
Since I finally realized how weird it is to write the “official version” of an event for work and a “behind-the-scenes” version for my blog, I’ll keep my post about last night’s NU Rock Awards short and sweet.
In fact, the highlight for me can be summed up in one picture:
my childhood crush, the ultimate bestfriend-turned-boyfriend
And I shall now proceed to disappear from the face of the planet.
water everywhere
In an attempt to document what happened to our community because of “Ondoy”– and yeah, for work purposes, though I try to distance this blog from work–I put on my dad’s boots and went out of the house today. Among what I saw:
- my mother insisted on taking a picture of me before i took off. she should be the journalist in the family, really.
We’re going to try to relocate to my aunt’s place in Makati tomorrow morning, as long as there’ll be decent transportation. I don’t mind riding in a pedicab or a makeshift raft to get to a dry commercial area, but my mom is hypertensive, plus we’ll be bringing lots of clothes (for ourselves, and for donation purposes).
I’m looking forward to finally being able to help out. This disaster struck me in ways I never imagined. I still have one good friend in Cainta who’s unaccounted for, one who’s still stuck on the roof of her house, and countless more who lost everything.
[Some links that might be useful to others who want to reach out: urgent cases needing rescue, list of verified relief centers]
flooded
We just got our electricity back after a 24-hour blackout due to storm Ondoy. We’ve been here at Pasig/Cainta for 15 years now, but I don’t remember our streets ever flooding due to the rain. Until now.
My younger sister hasn’t gone home since Friday, because the roads leading up to our village are worse. She’s currently staying with a classmate in Quezon City, and probably won’t be home ’til tomorrow. Maybe ’til Tuesday.
But our situation is nothing compared to other areas. Floodwaters have completely taken over the first floor of my mom’s best friend’s house in another part of Pasig. There are hundreds, maybe thousands more people who need help; who have lost their property, their homes, and some, their lives.
Donations can be dropped off at three areas: at the Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD) center at the Batasan complex in Quezon City, at the DSWD National Capital Region (NCR) Office in Quiapo, Manila, and at the DSWD National Resource Operations Center in Pasay City. Contact details can be found here, while disaster emergency hotlines can be found here.
Stay safe, everyone. And help out when you can.
let’s pretend i have money
Thanks to today’s inspiring (and I use that word without a hint of sarcasm) video editing training, I’ve come up with a mini-list of stuff to buy before January 2010:
1. A new phone with a built-in camera that’s better–or at least as good–as the one in the Motorazr2 V8 I lost last month (2.0 megapixel camera with 8x zoom). How did I lose that precious gem? Let’s just say despedida-related merrymaking + four-inch heels at 3 in the morning isn’t exactly the best formula for alertness.
2. My own Netbook, because lugging around the large office-issued laptop has been proven bad for my health and my social life. Negative effects include leg bruises, perpetually sore shoulders, and inability to wear killer heels when necessary–all of which put me in a generally bad mood. And we all know frowning uglifies you.
3. A digital SLR May hangganan din dapat ang pangangarap kahit libre.
dancing in the moonlight
Okay, I didn’t dance. I basically just hopped around puddles of rainwater like a seven-year-old. But man, letting the rain pour down on you–emo-sounding, I know, ugh–for nearly two hours was one of the most innocent but liberating experiences ever.
I just came back from a four-day training with the PCIJ in Subic, wherein I got to affirm my beliefs that a lot of politicians are dimwits who follow a script written by their handlers, and that the media doesn’t do enough to pounce on those dimwits.
I’m too lazy to go into details–details that I could’ve captured on film if I had the time and the good sense to pack my digital camera. But let’s just say I’m kinda inspired on many levels (does not include waking up at 6:30 a.m. every weekday morning). Bring it on, Universe.
back
I’m back to blogging after a two-month hiatus that included a break-up with The Bassist, stressful 9am-11pm work days, and unpublishable general craziness.
I wasn’t able to finish any book until late August, when one of my best friends urged me to read this thing about Jack Kerouac. Anyway, that got me back on track. A snapshot of the latest acquisitions:
finish us, they cry
“sunshine-y”
“I have no personality,” I declared to my friend J in the middle of our Amici dinner last week. “The only ‘personality’ I have is that I can mold my ‘personality’ to fit pretty much everyone else’s.”
“That’s not true,” she said. “You’re sunshine-y! When I look at you, I see rainbows and the sun!”
Sunshine-y. Huh. An interesting word to describe someone who likes all-black outfits, deadpan humor, and rock and roll.
once
The characters don’t even have names. He is “Guy.” She is “Girl.” But you don’t have to know their names to remember “Once.” It is easily one of the most beautiful movies I’ve ever seen, and perhaps the most unforgettable.
Guy, a musician, is a bitter mess after his break-up with his long-time girlfriend. Enter Girl, about a decade his junior, who is very appreciative of the raw sound of his music. Her innocent yet provocative questions strike a chord within him; and even though at first he tries to brush her aside, he realizes that they have something very real in common: their loneliness, and their deep love for music.
They forge a friendship full of beautiful songs and brief but soulful conversations. As it turns out, Girl, despite her cheerfulness, has some baggage of her own: she has a kid, but she is not in good terms with the father.
What happens next is not surprising, given their bond: they fall in love, although they never tell each other about it (she does at one point, but in a language he couldn’t understand). In the end, however, both accept that they have their own lives to lead. They part ways, but not without leaving each other the unforgettable experience of having loved the way they did…once.
Below is the first song they played together, “Falling Slowly.” Lyrics follow.
I don’t know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can’t react
And games that never amount
To more than they’re meant
Will play themselves out
Take this sinking boat and point it home
We’ve still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You’ll make it now
Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can’t go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I’m painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It’s time that you won
Take this sinking boat and point it home
We’ve still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You’ve made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I’ll sing along
major backlog
I haven’t been able to have some nice down time during weekends lately, so I used this weekend to chill and get my much-needed pop culture fix: had four-hour naps; watched movies–okay, one movie that has long been in my “Downloaded Movies” folder, “Sex and the City”; finished one chapter of TC Boyle’s “Tortilla Curtain.” I’m a happy girl.
Well, almost. “Sex and the City” made me hate my life. Or more precisely, the broken down cabinet with hastily-folded clothes that I call my closet. NYMag was right: this movie will make you shed tears of fashion. Look how pretty!
One of the dresses I can never hope to own, or wear, in this lifetime.
Next weekend: I’ll watch the award-winning Irish musical “Once,” listen to the CDs a good friend gave me last month, and hopefully read more chapters of “The Tortilla Curtain” and other unfinished books that have been gathering dust in the shelf.
