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for thesis [20 Feb 2004|12:29am] if ever you know any battered women/rape victims, please do let me know. please cough up their names and contacts; we need them badly. mail: chasing_cloud@yahoo.com promise this would be held in strict confidentiality. (now i know it's unlikely that battered women and rape victims banner themselves around, but im just taking my chance. you know, just in case.) 4 comments|post comment

illumined [08 Feb 2004|03:46am] [ mood | chipper ] set this up to exercise verbosity. hehe. and i was able to archive entries from halfwishing (special mention: ruth!) in here finally. good morning :) 1 comment|post comment

... [15 Jan 2004|08:30pm] [ mood | thirsty ] [ music | run to the water by live ] i am diabetic, i so so think. i am scheduled for a bloodsugar whatever test soon. i'm trying to look brave but honestly, i am terrified to no end. and exaggeratedly thirsty (diabetes mellitus symptom #1). my lola's been diabetic for years now and i know what it can do to a person: the insulin injection, a lifetime of 'equal' usage, fare thee well chocolates and gummi bears. a little peephole to hope: my paranoia. it could be i'm just so paranoid it psychologically whacks my throat and bladder. thus, the excessive thirst and urination. i've had moments believing that i had: a) sclerosis b) lymphoma c) prelude to polio. so you know maybe i'm immersed in such moments again. hahahahaha. don't i just freak you out. let's see. on to other, healthier things. i'm tutoring jenny! sally's four year old sister. i don't know how to exactly word out our relationship but the weeks have been fab. jenny still speaks in broken english so oftentimes it takes me five seconds to understand what she is saying. we operate on animated gestures, too. right now, we're doing ABCs and awww, you should see how she intends to know ABC by heart. "okay jenny. what's this? what's the letter after S?" "wait. wait." that's the cue for her to sing ABC right from the start until she reaches the letter T. "nobie (their yaya) starts with the letter....???" "N." "very good!" "N is the name of my mama also." anne is the name of her mother, hee. "S sounds like sssssssss (makes hissing sound)" "like snake!" "yes very good, like snake!" "snake starts with s." prompting a clap for me because aww, the girl's getting the drift! "do your classmates speak english?" "no. but one friend have english. then all have tagalog." "jenny, how old are you?" "i don't know. i will tell my mother." "no, i think you're four." "no, i think i'm five." then shows me her dainty five fingers to illustrate the point. (but she's only four years old, that cute little korean.) and it's not just the conversation that melts me. it's her face that just lights up every time she writes down letter B or D. she sings ABC with so much zest i just find myself drumming my fingers on the table and clapping my hands. she's an eager beaver. lovely girl. super lovely girl. it does make me soo good hearing from her mom how jenny waits for me every afternoon and asks her mom what time will i come. sweetness ;) ( and i don't mean my diabetes.) 4 comments|post comment

for update's sake [04 Jan 2004|04:12pm] [ mood | excited ] [ music | rolento by chicosci ] this is my movie. definitely. from chex, international SMS: Sem kaw lng nkasama ko mgtrip s ilalim ng ulan: TANDAAN M YAN. aww :) :) 3 comments|post comment

[28 Dec 2003|04:28pm] [ mood | happy ] let's start it off with the jay r gig. followed by a videoke session in a private room of an arcade - "come together", "fast car", "everything little thing she does is magic" (and i will cry if someone dedicates this song to me). three guys and me. that motorbicycle thingie virtual ride. KFC and extra rice. zooming off to the other mall for the last full show - choosing betwen crying ladies and malikmata only to end up in captain barbell. okrayan ever, but sorry i love sarah geronimo. ride to mark's. pusoy dos and i won. 1am and "sukdulan" on vcd. then conversations that last until 6am: love, life. no sleep, picture craze, 2 peanut butter sandwiches and an all new refreshing look on love. the boys' point of view, can never get enough of this. 1 comment|post comment

beaming at ya live from netopia, rob metro east [27 Dec 2003|05:19pm] for the love of my friend, i accompanied him to the jay ar mall gig right here at rob metro east. hehe. quite shy to do the picture-taking, he coerced (forced, ruthlessly nudged, begged!) me to position myself in front of jay ar to take a pic of him. he's a hottie, in fairness. but nothing beats my guy basti; nothing does. now i can't get the song "bakit pa ba" out of my head! last full show afterwards then overnight bonding sessions with a couple of highschool friends. whee. 3 comments|post comment

merry christmas :) [24 Dec 2003|11:14am] garfield's twelve days of christmas merry many thanks to sheena for the garfield organizer, to sis for the garfield lingerie, to ching for "sammy" the bear, to tsong for the wonderful friday and the 2004 calendar, to vlad for the moral uplift, to mama for the garfield bedsheet. i'm looking forward to a happy christmas despite empty wallets and see-sawing relationships. tis the season to be jolly tralalalala, so jolly be it! :) 10 comments|post comment

random rundown #91818 [19 Dec 2003|12:36pm] ---now that livejournal has opened its doors to non-invitecodeholders, i'm afraid of a massive exodus happening so just in case you guys fly out of here, do add me: http://livejournal.com/~starsplashes. merci :) ---busy as all hell despite the christmas break. i'm having a major thesis problem and for the sake of a happy holiday spirit, i'm trying so hard to quell the bad feeling. to no avail. ---my arms hurt from rappelling and firing a 9mm the other day. the recoil, man, the recoil. i almost got thrown back to the wall and the sergeant even had the gall to scold me! "you're anticipating the shot kasi," he snapped while rearranging my fingers on the proper holding of the gun. my classmates were all so brave and great that they had 3 rounds of shooting. me? that was my last. a wonder wuss, yes. that's moi. ---i bought everyone from sally's family a gift. i had cheap finds but it was still so wonderful. they opened the gifts altogether, the gifts burst from the wrappers and they gave me a collective loving, grateful look. i left the house, sally looked up to me to give that crisp, undeniably sincere "thank you." sweet :) ---i dont know how to wrap a gift!! this is such a hassle, man. my friends/mom do the wrapping for me. that, or i buy those expensive paper bags. i'm sorry but i'm "art-less" like this. do you know that i didn't know how to handle a scissor properly until senior high? my mom even did all of my cross-stitching projects. hee. ---christmas candy canes. yum yum yum. 5 comments|post comment

my blurty's getting boring but anyway :) [08 Dec 2003|08:28am] i just remember that when mandy moore accepted her platinum thingie from s.o.p, i just, well..cried. haha. i was so touched with that event i cried. what could be more showbiz than that? then the other night, my friends and i raved on everything showbiz: why sheena's the wrong choice on starstruck vote out night, why atong redillas just doesn't click, that jimmy bondoc is actually the new screen name of l.a lopez (hehe), why eddie garcia still looks firm and virile at 83, how come there are no gloria romeros/rosa rosals today, why narito ang puso ko is better than habang kapiling ka, and the list is endless. it's funny, actually, how these bunch of UP graduating guys can talk so much about the biz without feeling lame and embarrassed and stupid. and note that i'm the only one from masscomm (aka college of song and dance, the most showbiz of all colleges). hehe naaliw lang ako. just wanna share! 17 comments|post comment

on a roll, baby. on a roll [28 Nov 2003|09:01pm] second post for tonight. i was just going to spill about my farewell father episode this morning. i just kissed him and that was it. i couldn't speak because there was this big dam of tears that was about to explode if i go as far as saying "ingat." when he phoned us before he boarded the plane (we didn't go to the airport with him. obviously), i just asked my mom to say "ingat" for him because i still couldn't speak in fear of choking and sobbing and sniffling and talking all at the same time. then i proceeded to the bathroom and cried. anyway, macy shared her nu107 awards experience, asteeeeeeg. too bad i missed this year's, i didn't even catch it on radio. noticed that i've been posting awhole lotta long entries recently hehe. sorry if ive been flooding your pages guys :) goodnight! 2 comments|post comment

santa, sam, sally [28 Nov 2003|08:53pm] [ mood | christmassy ] [ music | tremor christ by pearl jam ] hailing from a country that doesn't have a westernized christmas like ours, the concept of santa claus is new to sally and so i spent a good thirty minutes of today's tutorial session babbling about our big cheeky ole' man as if he's just my next-door neighbor. the cookie-and-milk legends, the reindeers, the elves -i practically rattled off all santa nuggets i know including some imagined ones like santa pouring himself some magic dust so the kids wouldn't see him as sally insists that she has to see him. oh, you just gotta see the girl light up with all the santa talk we had! then as she only knew the first lines of "santa claus is coming to town" - imagine her going like "you better watch out, you better watch out, you better watch out" - i taught her the entire song and we sang it nonstop for about ten minutes. ten minutes of total throat workout, it was so much fun! then i asked her to write a letter to santa. wanna read it? dear santa, i want (sic) take a box and in that box, it has set of fairy things and i want your picture! love, sally. of course. sally also asked me to write one, so: dear santa, sally asked me to write you a letter so here i am. i wish love for everyone. that and a new pc. stay sweet, our old man. love, sam. ps: never make sally un-believe in you. you know what just scares me though? it's that sally is so hyped up with this santa and gift thing, and i want her to because it's a joyful childhood experience, right? but the problem sets off if she doesn't get that fairy box and then what'd happen to our make-believe santa? what'd happen to her. man, she's going to be disillusioned bigtime. and i don't want that. that's why i insist that sally gives the letter to her mom "because santa talks to the parents and ask them what their kids like for christmas" but she said no because her mom would just throw the paper out. i want her to get that fairy box so at least she'd have this one christmas year when santa supposedly make her wish come true. come on, it's the first time she ever heard of him, why couldn't she be given that chance to believe all the more? i could play santa, well yes, but i could only provide the picture. hehe. i plan to text her dad sometime and tell him about this santa thing but well, hope he'd understand and grab that fairy box for her little girl. i wonder though if i've been wrong all along, building a picture-perfect image of our fictitious santa for sally. but well, she's entitled to have a faith for him, isnt she? she's seven for chrissakes. seven year olds adore the man! oh well. i'll try to find a way to make this mission: santa 2003 work for her. in the meantime, i just feel so excited like anything because garfield the movie is opening may next year. yeahh. post comment

yearbook writeup [27 Nov 2003|08:03pm] [ mood | uncomfortable ] [ music | valley of chrome by cypress hill ] “ Passion ruled her…I watched her close her eyes, I could feel the waves of her passion…” (Astrid- White Oleander) Heart. Mind. Optimism. Uncertainty. Love. Pain. Trust. Faith. Respect. Loyalty. Understanding. Transparency. Calmness. Fire. Humility. Pride. Dreams. Deeds. Technology. Vocabulary. Essence. Strength. Anchor. Soul. Prayer. Family. Stars. Showers. Sky. Future. New York. French. Professors. Soft Voice. Sharp Tongue. Charm. Wit. Mockery. Laughter. Chuckles. Smiles. Tears. Disbelief. Paranoia. Literature. Sleep. Cramming. Memories. Letters. Occasions. Infatuation. Impressions. Dance. Twist. Turns. Detour. Modern. Jazz. Split. Stretch. Wrestling. Ice Skating. Tensions. Blessings. Underground. Profundity. Explicitness. Motivation. Lira. School Spirit. Lost. Grounded. Overnight. Late Nights. Polka-dots. Megas Store. Malls. Shoes. Sundance. Kustura. Street Crossing. Teeth. Books. Poems. Sign Pens. Journals. Writing. Walks. Solitude. Guitar. Songs. Magazines. Emails. Rock Music. Garfield. Colors. Earrings. Phones. Lotion. Frangrance. Fear. Imagination. Creativity. Semi-kiss. Master Writer. Sister. Daughter. Friend. Child. Woman. Leader. Supporter. Producer. Manager. Wanderer. Stranger. Princess. Vision. Gifted. Musketero. Socks. Sack. Undies. Marikina. Katipunan. Tumana. Superferry. Cebu. Surigao. Laguna. Parañaque. San Mateo. Daniw. Balara. Catechism. Kids. Korea. Teacher. English. Power Puff Girls. Coke. RC Cola. Pandesal. Coffee. Fishball. Ketchup. Never. Spaghetti. McDonald’s. Jollibee. Black Label. Flowers. Diego. Movies. Photographs. GMA 7. DZRH. Oprah’s Book Club. Libra. Scorpio. Wounds. Scars. Struggles. Healing. Triumph. Passion. Sam. Period. i love you sis, thank you :) my father's leaving tomorrow for miami. won't be seeing him for another ten months or so, meaning he won't be around on my graduation. he's been working abroad for ten years now but i have yet to get used to his leaving. last-minute baggage check, airport moments, goodbye hugs. i'm gonna stifle a tear, i promise to try. post comment

:( [24 Nov 2003|07:48pm] [ mood | sad ] atty felipe medina - former chairman of kapisanan ng broadkaster ng pilipinas, former general manager of RPN9, the first who introduced the concept of dubbing foreign telenovelas way back in 60s, assistant and lawyer of james lindenberg who's the father of philippine TV, my professor in strategies and techniques in TV programming last sem - died last saturday, which we only got to know this afternoon. he with the sarcastic/hearty laugh, whose smiles an instant treat to the class because he's often on his usual grumpy old ways, he who always went on a lamentation re. the sorry situation of phil TV. quiet student as i was, he called me on our what turned out to be our last meeting. "miss echavez. i've never heard your voice." this is so sad. even when we were having classes, he was always leaning on the board because his chest/back hurt too much. he had undergone a major operation right before the 1st sem kicked in so he was a bit sickly at that time. we told him to just rest but he said he'd finish the semester. ang galing nya magturo, we all learned so much. he was frail and gaunt but he gave his all. then this late afternoon, my bestfriend and her boyfriend broke up :( those two were love personified, but they had to end in such a horrible way. even i, who felt so infuriated with what he recently has been doing to my soul sis, had to butt in, and yeah. i got the sms confrontation of a lifetime :( 1 comment|post comment

... [24 Nov 2003|08:23am] [ mood | busy ] [ music | pennyroyal tea by nirvana ] i tried to detach myself from writing for a while, tried to curtail the finger choreography on keyboard, tried to stop myself from translating my life to lines. a literary version of cool-off, making way for space, assessing the relationship between the grand craft and the little timid wannabe. there wasn't much to assess except that i found out lately that oftentimes i am scared to write - a monster fear that preempts any creation, that spoils a bit of imagination- and that i couldn't write on paper anymore. scrawlings would appear from the sheet but they didn't say much, not if you count and appreciate the flower doodles and smileys galore on the margins. now back to this deliberate distance. after a week of not touching anything that would hint word manufacture, i decided to jump back, notwithstanding my initial vow to keep it for two weeks more. which had me finding out that going back to writing is very much like meeting your long-lost friend. the excitement is there, the thrill of what's it like to integrate yourself back to his circle again, which is balanced by the anxiety that maybe, he wouldn't be the same friend you left before. that he'd grown cold, and he wouldn't take your hand no matter how many times you shoved it to his face, after which he'd just throw you a look that shouts: "you shouldn't have left me in the first place." so now you have me here in front of the PC, in what would have been my typical writing time, and i have no idea how it would turn out, this coming back for the respite. much like i don't know how to start this diagnostic essay we have to do for creative writing 100, which i have to submit approximately two hours from now. we were asked to walk around the acad oval, a circuit totalling to 2.2 kilometers, and write something about the experience. sure, i walked and immersed myself in the moment, the thoughts wandered while my steps went on, but no "aha!" as to how the essay would go. oh, and i almost forgot that i have to start my yearbook writeup for my soul sis. masscomm-style, the gradcom quipped. then the scariest of em all, the deadline for national writers workshop on the 28th. ha. like i could actually dig from underground some guts that would undo my smallness among the throng of english literati. i have yet to figure out if i'd pass something for the screening. if i'd be able to take another round of rejection. post comment

warning: this entry doesn't make sense [12 Nov 2003|07:33pm] i was out in the yard, about to take my brothers' uniforms from the sampayan when the sky had my head tilting upwards. (of course. there's nowhere to look but up. i love the sky so much; my navel must've hooked itself up there.) i saw the moon sandwiched between two gauzes of clouds that were gently pushed eastward by god's fingers. about ten seconds of mentally shooting that solemn movement. it was so far out. preceding paragraph could be integrated to a chapter of a novel - although not verbatim - a snippet somewhat, if someone would have to morph me to a one-dimensional, word-structured figure. i just want to be a protagonist in a story - an astrid magnussen, a dolores price, a sayuri, a modern day jane eyre. someone else is ripping my soul, pasting it to fresh writeable pulp, dripping it with ink, making me literature-alive. not that i'm worthy of a page. i look at myself and who am i? i'm twenty, not particularly ravishing, 4'11 insisting on a 5'. i tutor an angelic korean and i transform to a multiplication monster and division dinosaur whom she magically kills with each correct mathematical operation. i have almost died from basti's in-the-flesh gorgeousness. i herald garfield as my hero, my favorite philosopher. i've had love stories to look back to, one is underway and i pray to my god that this time there'd be no sad, weepy endings. i almost drowned twice. i had a teacher who hated me for losing the editorial writing competition. i slaved away for a certain ryann back in highschool - fatal, insipid attraction. i shielded myself and my bestfriend with my yellow umbrella when we almost got hit by up toki jeep. i almost poisoned my bestfriend's father because i placed the nitric acid on a bottle of mineral water. i was an ugly balloon when i was fourteen. but other than that, what is there to say? who will quantify me on paper? why can't i shape myself to someone epic and beautiful and with glorious hair? sometimes there's just that flighty need of someone containing us as words as intoxicating as the cana wine that would flow restlessly, liquefy the solid tableaux in our daily drama. someone to chronicle our life and twist it to a grand story. someone to transform us to paper heroines. i just don't know how they do it. writers who could make a character so incredible, so enviable. who are their life-size models? aren't their characters themselves? the other day, on my way to antipolo, i thought of nothing else but a character sketch of someone named poinsettia, a supposedly amazing being for a christmas story. i thought of her crisp soliloquy, imagined her as someone whose eyes droop down like sad breasts. i couldn't see her lifeless, couldn't see her faceless. i wanted to subtly inject myself to her, a little part of me jammed in her unbelievably thin body. if i want to be a protagonist, and if no one else could see my life as a saga and a triumph, i could at least play around with an imaginary being, then make her me. weh. told you, i am so not making sense. point is...i just want to write, goddunit. post comment

machorny [10 Nov 2003|03:54pm] [ mood | machorny ] [ music | candy by ash ] my brother whipped up a testimonial for me. funny guy. lately, we've been insisting that we're both machorny: macho + corny + horny, which is a shortened term for malaburatboomalatalumaharlikarismamachorny. we outdo each other in pronouncing the word, making sure that we emphasize the word machorny in the end. ick. ang chorny. my other brother on the other hand jammed his finger under my arm while i was on bed, that left me suspended in the air for a millisecond before crashing down the floor. my back thudded so loud it drove my brother to instant panicking, immediately wrapping his arms around me to see if i was okay. i was not. i cried for a while, faced the wall, refused to talk to him which was such a frontact on my part. how could i stay pissed off? we played basketball first thing in the morning. haay. now this is a dragging and machorny entry i suggest you just visit: http://silv3r-lining.org/ruthutay :) 3 comments|post comment

november rain [05 Nov 2003|12:06pm] [ mood | worried ] [ music | giyang by razorback ] wonderful. i have to go to the studio for the grad pic retake. i looked like a human cake, thick on foundation, topped with bronze and the most prominent concealer. i know damn well that my eyebags are impressive ones but come on. the lighting was engulfing me, making me appear as if i were embedded in the photo, my face glued annoyingly to the surface. and my hair, it's puffy as it is, so why didn't the beautician just leave it alone? i'm hailing ditziness, yeah, pero nakakainsecure lang. everyone is fabulous on his gradpic. why can't i be one? and yeah, it's as if i'm going to graduate on time.knowing my history with badtiming and scholastic ill-fate, i don't want to be too damn sure because things could go wrong. cum laude standing? nyeh, as if i could keep up with that. i actually got an imcomplete for one subject and this moment, i am just taking the break from typing the reports that could save me from fishing an INC on my transcript. however, sans this angst and the financial muck i am in, i seem to be okay. i'm so hellishly paranoid about another thing but still i'm okay, bubble-mouthed. i'm wading through a thousand stiff teardrops, but armstretched away, there's a raft where i could lodge myself in. he's my god-given lifeboat. sailing away to sleepless nights and distant dreams, i promise you we're going to make it. *** postscripts: binibini november issue. sally's seventh birthday last friday and i had korean barbeque plus sajo (korean wine) for dinner - her mom even handed me a takeout :) happy birthday to all november beauties! ang dami nyo :) 2 comments|post comment

joyeux anniversaire [23 Oct 2003|12:21pm] [ mood | loved ] big two-oh today. i will act my age from now on, i will act my age from now on. heehee :) thank you for the sweet greetings :) my bestfriend and i launched a birthday countdown ten seconds before midnight, followed by text messages and calls that arrived nonstop until 8am. ooh it was lovely i barely slept. good morning happy birthday kisses from my mama and my papa and my brothers, plus diego the dog's pants and drools that somehow equate to the canine way of hollering out birthday greetings. mikey danced the happy birthday dance for me :) my other bestfriend called me up to remind me to wear the oshkosh underwear she bought for me last night. my sta. clara church tradition by 10am and this lunchtime went online and wow, friendster and blurty are being wonderful :) that's the first half of my day. now heading to buy some chicken for friends that would arrive later. the second half is going to be just as terrific :) thank you again, dears! ((HUGS)) 7 comments|post comment

i am turning twenty tomorrow. [22 Oct 2003|01:40pm] [ mood | busy ] [ music | birthmark by deftones ] wish i could upchuck everything inside me then make a rhapsody out of my two decades. but as it is, i see nothing extraordinary now. 7 comments|post comment

sally, that girl [16 Oct 2003|05:20pm] [ mood | roaring with whoopass cough ] [ music | sarah geronimo on my head ] because there's the thesis proposal to pass tomorrow and because i was too busy skimming through basti's friendster page - his picture with his wife, and he wasn't smiling there, ha! - i forgot all about going over to sally's. damn, i missed the tutorials again. which doesn't only mean a deduction of 300 from my weekly pay but also skipping another amazing time with her. i've been proclaiming this a million times - she is my angel :) yesterday i actually stopped to just look at her with awe after she hid from the closet and came out wearing her dad's suit and her barbie cap. we then proceeded to play our own version of trip to jerusalem and paper dance. afterwards i wrote a story on the spot for her to read - "princess sally and princess sam", and the way she asked for another story..aww. i'm so gushing over this. wordlessly wonderful, these afternoons with her. and i think she's learning. i really think she is. makes me feel that i'm doing something good, ya know? something that has a long-term effect, something that would hopefully make her look back years from now and say, "hey i learned how to use the word beside from sam. i learned what a fairy is from her." teaching a kid has never been a cinch and i've had the opportunities of proving that from my one year stint as a catechist to tutoring wayne who didn't know how to read - apparently, he was dyslexic. now, every time i see sally's whiteboard with a permanently marked drawing of the two of us, with a big "sam and sally" written with the six year old flair, i realize that maybe, really, i'm on the right track. 4 comments|post comment

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