welcome to the jacqueline trash

Bendy Like Beckham

2011-07-04T17:32:00.001-07:00

OMG, bitchez!

I did a full camel pose today. Wooohoooo!

For those of you who don't know what a full camel pose is, it's the pose that was created so that people can smell their own feet.

Like this lady below. She's just having a swell time smelling her feet. I heard some people are kinda into that. You know, smell your own feet. It's really gross though. yak.

Anyway, I was able to do this pose for the first time today. It isn't really much of an achievement really because progress is normal in yoga and I should stop being this annoying, self-serving douchebag who brags about the postures I'm able to do. Bragging and all that jazz. Something tells me that it isn't really what yoga is all about. har har.

It's more about pushing yourself.

So the thing is, halfway through the class, I started feeling really dizzy and thought I was going to ~~die~~ pass out. For real, yo. I never once have skipped a pose since I started yoga. Today, however, I just couldn't take it anymore. Something was telling me that I was gonna fall flat onto my face if I didn't stop. So I dropped into child's pose and rested there for a while. If I hadn't taken a break, I would most definitely have passed out. (I'm an idiot and forgot my water bottle today.)

So I gave up.

And then I got up again.

It really was a struggle for the first 60 mins and I cursed myself for forgetting to bring a water bottle, for having had too much too drink and smoke over the weekend, for being such an idiot and forgetting to eat properly the whole day. Basically, I was just a self-loathing wreck until I just said to myself: "You stupid, bitch. It's just a yoga class. Get over it." And so I kinda just relaxed my tits from then on and took it easy. And lo and behold, the last 30 mins were awesome. It felt like total bliss. In fact, I don't think I ever felt that STOKED in the few weeks I've been doing yoga.

And then the most awesome thing happend.

After the class my instructor asked me if I wanted to try out a more difficult pose and I stayed behind while everyone else was getting their drink on (bitchez).It was just my instructor, his blue-checkered speedos and me left in the heated yoga room. Nice. "A dream come true?" I asked myself. *Wink Wink*

But, he told me to try out the full camel pose. Ngek.

Bummer.

Anyway, the rest is history. I did the full camel pose. Yey! And now my back is broken. Yey! But still, I hold my head up high. Not because I was able to do the pose, but because I didn't give up and pushed myself to continue.

And I think that's what yoga really is about and is trying to teach us.

So kids, the lesson for today is this: Whenever you feel like giving up, just keep on going. You will be able to achieve much more than you thought you would be able to. And: something amazing almost always happens right after that.

NAKS. ( I sound like a such a douchebag.)

Ps.: Have I told you about this dude who refuses to wear speedos? Yeah, he wears shorts instad.

I know what you guys are thinking. You're thinking: "Isn't that a good thing? Wouldn't you much prefer shorts over speedos?" Well, bitchez. The answer is No. I would much rather prefer looking at speedos than looking at men who think it's okay to wear lose shorts but no panty under their shorts. Dude naman, that is just foul.
So this dude who was in front of me today is precisely one of those guys who think they're too cool for school and refuse to wear speedos or panty or whatever would keep their balls chained up . Which is why, whenever he does this pose.....

....I kinda always see his hairy balls. Gross.

Tudelu!

Whenever I say "dope" I actually mean "beautiful", and I hope that's okay.

2011-07-01T07:29:00.001-07:00

#trying to be more vulnerable.

Friday Night Part II

2011-07-01T07:19:00.000-07:00

So I was gonna sleep early tonight so that I'll be able to wake up in time for my 9am yoga class tomorrow.

Scratch that.

My good friend Nina from Cebu is in Manila for a few days and I'll be meeting her in a while.

Admittedly, I was tempted to simply ignore her texts and plea to drink with her tonight, but I figured that there is no use in trying to become a more peaceful person by maintaing a so-called healthy lifestyle. No drinking, tons of yoga, more sleep, etc* might make me feel better about myself and will hopefully turn me into a person that I can say I'm proud of being, but these measures I'm taking in order to become that "better" person won't really mean much if I turn into an asshole who forgets all about her friends anyway.

So no yoga tomorrow (I'm crying inside), but at least I won't have to blame myself for being a selfish dork who leaves all her friends behind just because I'm doing all of this lame soul-searching.

*I will still keep on smoking, don't you worry Anonymous. See you downstairs.

Friday Night - Things to ponder on

2011-07-01T05:47:00.000-07:00

It's almost 9pm.

I'm home. WTF.

I want to sleep. WTF talaga.

How old am I? 900?

Looking forward to waking up early and going yoga tomorrow.

Looking forward to having sushi with Aims.

Looking forward to helping Aims out with her apartment.

She's gonna paint her apartment green.

She should paint it purple.

My apartment is purple. I quite like it.

There needs to be a way to fit into those weird, slutty yoga clothes.

I hate that I turn red whenever I see my crush. Hayyyy.

"Hiding" from your crush when he's standing right in front of you doesn't really make it less obvious.

Especially if you're trying to hide your red face.

Ugh.

I didn't really listen to music today.

That's strange.

I didn't get to read today.

That's sad.

Blackout Poetry

2011-06-27T01:52:00.000-07:00

My first attempt at Blackout Poetry. Looks like simply reading something won't be an option anymore. This stuff is addicting, and not just because of the pentel pen that smells so wonderful.

I would value sweet rides, the Ferris wheel, a little fun and a great big hug.

That's not true. I value a lot of things but not a great big hug. NEVER.

Our happiest haircuts take unconditional love and fighting for.

Trust me, if you knew the history of my hair, you would agree.

Battle romance.

Figures.

Cock anyone? Oversize jewels while holding a drink of course.

Of course.

Wicked people know more.

That's why they're messed up.

Dial 8McLies

2011-06-24T23:05:00.000-07:00

So I drank quite a bit last night. It was raining the whole day and I missed my yoga class, so my Friday was doomed from the start. It was just a stupid day and I felt a little lost and sad. Naks.

I got off work early and went straight to the store in my building to buy a bottle of rhum and coke. The guy at the store asked me whether I was going to drink the bottle by myself. Ashamed, I lied and said no. I even pretended to be appalled by the idea of drinking rhum alone. Theehee

Anyway, so the story of my Friday night goes like this: I finished the bottle. At home. Alone. Oh and I ordered McDo. Good times. I kinda felt like Nina Simone. But then, she wouldn't order chicken nuggets.

Despite the alcohol binge last night, I still managed to go to yoga class this morning. Thank gods! If I miss yoga once, shame on me. If I miss yoga twice, good luck to me and everybody who has to deal with me and my uncontrollable mood swings.

Yoga class was hard. Of course it was. A couple of times I thought I was gonna throw up, a couple of times I wanted to cry, and a couple of times I thought I was gonna pass out. The 90mins felt like an eternity and the camouflage-style speedos my instructor was wearing today could only help so much. :(

Which makes me wonder. Why do camouflage speedos even exist? It's not like men will start battling each other on the field half-naked anytime soon. Although it would be nice. Theehee

Oh look. Eye candy.

Anyway, as I was trying to kick my leg up to the sky without rapturing my loins (I'll need those), only one thought went through my head: I will never ever drink and smoke again. NEVER. EVER.

Yogis aren't supposed to drink and smoke anyway (boring). I know, I know; I'd be such a douchebag if I called myself a yogi, but I do see why it's not ideal for my yoga practice to be all hungover and throw up all over my yoga mat and shit.

So, I shall try to lessen the intake of poisonous substances for the love of yoga and myself. Let's see how that goes. But first I will have to go to Fete De La Musique and party party. Har har!

By the way, the lady at the yoga reception told me that Fete was cancelled. That lying sack. If you guys want to talk to her, just dial 8McLies.

Ps.: I am faced with a shizload of laundry. Ugh. Or as Nikki would say: Rage Against The Washing Machine, bitchez.

Tudelu!

Smiley Cyrus

2011-06-23T02:40:00.000-07:00

I realized that I should smile more often. Yes, you read that right. Smile. Actually, you know what bitchez? EVERYONE should smile much more often. I don't really know why, but it can only be good.

Besides, you never know who is sitting in front of you. What if it's the Ultimate Warrior tapos he gets mad because you gave them the stink face instead of a smile? Then he will shout at you and you start to cry because you don't know what he's saying. Wala na.

Since I'm gonna smile more, I will try to find better smiling techniques. My photo smile in particular is terrible. To give you some sort of idea of what I mean, please refer to below photo collage of some of my photo faces.

You see, it's just not very....normal. A lot of my faces are -of course- inspired by Blue Steel. Doesn't matter. I'll try to fix my photo face so that my mom won't have to be ashamed of being my Facebook friend.

For inspiration and fierce photographs, I of course always turn to Tyra. I had previously studied Tyra Banks' photos and written about it. Below is what my research had revealed:

There are several photo faces a fierce gal like me can use when somebody is taking my picture.

1. The Flirting with your Boyfriend Smile
Obviously, as the title suggests, this smile is used when one wants to flirt.
You just think "mmh mmhh mhhh, you hot hunk of flesh" and the smile displays itself automatically.

2. The Surprise Smile
It's talagang iskery so i don't want to elaborate on it since I have promised to avoid things that stem from hell.

3. The Smile With Eyes Only
Mouth area doesn't necessarily have to form a smile. The eyes are expressing all the fashionable joy and laughter there is to spread.
There's no use in me giving you tips as to how achieve it. It's just too hard to pull it off. Tyra, however, has made it her trade mark (so she claims).

4. The Catalog Smile
The High Fashion Smile. (it's very rare because high fashion models don't really smile since they're always hungry. Let me give you the ABC of "Cataloge Smile" anyway:
a) Your eyes look to the side, a little bit up, as if you just had an idea, and there's a light bulb at the upper left of your head. Given your head is square.
b) You're looking at precisely that light bulp and you're so ueberhappy to have had an awesome idea.
c) You rest your left hand on the left side of your head as though your head was aching or as though you're stupid.
Can you picture it?

5. The Commercial Smile
It's the smile that sells and that everyone can relate to. Sarap kc maglaughter, tapos you associate a product with that smile, tapos biglat you want to bili that product. COMMERCIAL SMILE NGA!

6. Smiling Without Your Eyes
Tyra says a lot of beautiful ladies that are still in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Model commit a great fashion sin by smiling without their eyes. So be aware, you do not want to commit the smiling-wihout-your-eyes-sin. Always remember to have that certain sparkle in your one eye (one eye is enough.)

Tyra is living proof: there is a smile for every occasion. So there really is no reason why we shouldn't smile a bit more. It will make the world a brighter place. Naks.

I'm thinking of using either the Commercial Smile or the Smize (smiling with your eyes). These two make for great Facebook profile pictures and I can display these particular smiles without sacrificing "The Shoulder".

"The Shoulder" is something I first noticed while studying popular Facebook pictures. Apparently, showing a little bit of your shoulder and tilting your head back a bit creates that magic that every professional photographer is after.

Smiling with your shoulder = Smouldering.

Last night, after our Jestoni Club Jog, I tried my new photo face out. Whatyathink?

Ps.: I'm so proud of the Jestoni Club. We went jogging in the rain! Awoooo!

Anyway bitchez. all I'm saying is that we should all smile more and that I will try to fix my personal smiling technique a bit so that I won't scare anyone as I walk the world with a big smile on my fez.

Tudelu!

Inner Peace and all that jazz

2011-06-20T07:52:00.000-07:00

I was supposed to write about my first yoga experience when I accidentally deleted my old blog. That was of course retarded, but I've done more retarded stuff than that so I didn't freak out. Besides, as a true yogi, I keep my calm and balance and just breathe in and out and then deal with my problems later on with ~~alcohol~~ more yoga.

Anyway, since this blog is all about me improving my life and finally doing the things I've been wanting to do, I decided to try out yoga. Just as a background, I've been talking about trying out yoga for more than a year now and never really had the~~guts~~ time to try it out on my own. But I realized that life's too short to give excuses. Diba, diba?

Now. Back to yoga. Before the actual class, I did some yoga research in order to properly prepare for my class.

This is what my research revealed:

(I understand I already posted this in my previous blog that I deleted, but it wouldn't hurt to say it again.)

1. Men who do yoga have tons of fun! (i.e.: they can suck their own dicks.)

2. If you're good at yoga, you have more ways of nursing a headache. (i.e.: with your feet.)

3. Lady Gaga is a retard.

Anyhoo, let's talk business now. I did it. Finally. I actually woke up early (take note: on Saturday!!!) and went to yoga class! Ha! I would never have had the energy nor the motivation to wake up early on a Saturday to go to yoga class without a friend and without a hangover. But I did it. Awooo!

Just so you know, the yoga class that I took is called Bikram Yoga and is practiced in a heated room (40 degrees celsius). Do you have any idea how hot that is? 90 mins of sweating. My sweat could have filled a gallon, for real real. The stretching and breathing and all that other weird stuff isn't easy either. A couple of times I thought I'd pass out. Seriously. I'm not just saying that. Plus, my yoga teacher doesn't allow us to drink water during the first 30mins because that's when you "warm up" and drinking water would just cool your body. I don't really see the logic of warming up in a heated room, but whatevs. I'll just do whatever he tells me because he wears red speedos and that's enough for me to believe in his credibility.

The first class was a struggle, but it still was awesome. Which is why, this morning (Sunday), I decided to torture myself some more and went again. Ye ye! I am now a true yogi. Two yoga classes? Check! Nirvana? Check!

I'll try to keep this thing up because I want more Nirvana and smell like Teen Spirit as I sweat my heart out. Also, I want to be able to touch my toes with my fingers one day.

Anyhoo, that's that. Finally tried yoga and I actually like it. Yey!

PS.: Every single fiber in my body is aching like a bitch.

Tudelu!

Namaste, asshole.

2011-06-20T07:50:00.000-07:00

So I accidentally deleted my other blog entry. I'm just really bobo like that. What's new?

Anyway, about that blog entry that I deleted; to say it was just a mere blog, is to greatly understate what it meant to me. It was more than just a blog. It was my personal project. It was to give me the motivation to do things right, and the discipline to be able to denounce all that brings ill energy to my life.

True, I wrote mostly about retarded stuff and nobody really cared about it, but it helped. I had fun writing for that blog and I had even more fun doing the things I did because of it.

Now it's gone. How sad. All my hard work (haha) down the drain. Usually, I'd get fed up by things like this, but since I started my yoga class (that was yesterday), I feel much more at ease and take this bullshit as part of life. Just breathe in and breathe out.

For now, all I can do is get back on my feet and try it all over again. This blog is simply too important for me to abandon. So here it is:

A new start (again). A new attempt to change my life (again).

Ps.: I'm really surprised at how this yoga stuff works. Talagang mas-steady ako ngayon. For your reference, below is a picture of me doing yoga and looking all peaceful and fluffy and stuff.

Tudelu!

The Advertorialist

2011-06-20T07:49:00.002-07:00

http://theadvertorialist.tumblr.com/

I moved. (Sorry blogspot).

Dear Life

2011-03-02T21:50:00.000-08:00

From the brilliant minds of www.workisnotajob.com

Jai-Alai

2011-02-05T20:54:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to wrap my head around this game called Jai-Alai. They were showing this on TV in some sports bar I ended up in because I'm stupid.

There are things that I do understand and things that I do not understand, no matter how hard I try. My cat would be something that I understand. Jai-Alai on the other hand is something that I'm having troubles with.

I don't even get the name and had to ask my friend who was at that sports bar with me:

Jac: What's the name of that weird game we watched at No. 38? (that's the bar, obviously)
Paolo: 'Jai-Alai' is the name.
Jac: More like 'Stupid' is the name.

What's up with this name? Jai-Alai. Ano ba to? R'nB' singer? Female deity ba to? I want to sacrifice a virgin and chant Jai Alai Alai Alai Alaiiii for something called Jai-Alai, not go to a sports bar to endure it as a sport. Jai-Alai is a gay name for a sport. I'm sorry, but you think so, too. Admit it.

Anyway, so Jai-Alai. Explain to me the following, please:

1. I understand that Jai-Alai is considered a "sport" because it obviously includes running around and -in some cases- running into a wall (that's why they wear helmets, I guess.) So, given that it's a sport, why do they wear white slacks? If I'm not mistaken, they even wear belts. It's okay to wear business clothes and business socks to a game of golf because we all know that golf isn't a sport anyway. There simply is no running around involved in golf, ergo golf fails to be a sport. 'Running around' is the basic element that makes a sport a sport. That, and of course: swimming around, biking around, climbing around, surfing around, rollerskating around, and jumping around (that includes chess, btw). Golf is just a lot of walking and talking around for the players and for the spectators it's a lot of waiting around and sleeping around. (True story.) So again, why the white slacks? Shouldn't they be wearing something more sporty or gay like short shorts?

2. There are two players opposing each other in a dark place with no windows and nowhere to go but straight ahead into a wall. Just like marriage, I suppose. Two oppsing players means two different colors that they wear. I.e.: Red vs. White. Or Blue vs. Green. Perhaps even Lilac vs. Purple, but that's debatable.
Now, Jai-Alai players also have numbers on their shirts. Numbers. How many distinguishing elements do you need to make us understand which player plays for what team? There are just two players out there in the first place. Is there really a need for numbers? I'm confused.

3. Well, aside from the pants and the numbers on the shirts, I also have difficulties understanding the rules of this game. You just hit the ball and it will come back and then you hit the ball and it will come back and then you hit the ball and it will come back? Ganun ba?

4. There are obviously no spectators in the halls where they play Jai-Alai. This I understand. 'Cause 'tis booooring.

Of course I did some research for this because I have to rely on the internet and autodidactic methods since nobody will answer the questions for me anyway.

When I say 'Research' by the way, I mean 'I read the youtube comments'. FYI lang.

Anyhoo, this is what my research has revealed:

A: Nobody gets the sport.
As clearly evident because of comments like:
-"i'm so confused."
-"i don't understand. is this like squash?"

B: It's deadly.
As clearly evident in the ff:
-"no one died?"
-"Jai-Alai is most likely the most dangerous sport in the world"
- and something about some player losing his eye during a game.

And that's that. It's deadly and a mystery, which is why I decided to officially ban the Jai-Alai from the world.

Consider it banned.

Script Options (Filipino Version)

2011-02-04T00:43:00.000-08:00

Option 1:
A: I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her, gagu.
B: Gagu ka rin!

Option 2:
A: I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
B: OIC.

Option 3:
A: I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
B: Ows?

Option 4:
A: I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
B: Weeeeh

Option 5:
A: I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
B: Ulul!

Option 6:
A: I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
B: Utang na loob!

Option 7:
A: I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
B: Pakyu.

Option 8:
A: I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
B: Unza ba dai?

Option 9:
A: I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
B: Tanginan' yan!

Otpion 10:
A: I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
B: Frankly, my dear, wala akong paki!

I hope Hollywood will consider.

Tudelu

Day After Day After Day After Day

2011-02-02T09:18:00.000-08:00

day after day after day after day
you sit at your desk and you hope and you wait
for work to end early, 'cause you don't want to stay
then you leave your office and you're tired and say:
"I will leave this job soon. I will get away"

day after day after day after day
you grab a few drinks with friends at a bar
and you talk about shitty work and about him and about her
then you leave the bar feeling drunk and you say:
"I really can't stand this shallow shit anymore"

day after day after day after day
you plan your travels, you get carried away
you dream of writing and making it far
and you wonder 'what if, what if?'and then say:
"Fuck this shit, I deserve much better than this"

but still

day after day after day after day
you dream and you plan and you hope and you pray
until you are stuck with just bills to pay
so you drink and get old and you're tired and say:

"I should have just fucking gone for it and done the things I always said I would do. Now I'm nothing but an old fuck with nothing left but a job that I hate and a life I that I never intended to waste. Damn life and whatever is left of it."

the end.

Of the things that matter (aka Jersey Shore)

2011-01-30T23:05:00.000-08:00

My birthday and constant pre-occupation with weight issues cause me to re-evaluate my life. Which is why I’m currently busy challenging my principles and ambitions in life.

I’m also busy challenging my weight, but that shall be discussed later on.

My worrying about useless things like jeans not fitting is destroying my principles and values in more sneaky ways than one might suspect.My values and principles are slowly disappearing while I'm more and more inclined to just care about American Idol instead. Which is rather alarming and I need to find ways to preserve a certain standard.

I also need ways to preserve my weight. There might be a need to also review my current hairdo.

It's time to get off Facebook to review my ambitions and principles in life. And maybe to scrutinize Tyra Banks. But just maybe.

Reality is, I fear my standards today are worth a rat's arse.In order to express what I mean with the "my standards are worth a rat's arse", I decided to make a poem:

Hi Fashion, Bye School.
To be thin, is to be cool
America’s Top Model:
watch it and be a fool.

Hello Imprudence, Bye Poise
“Promiscuous” is the new “nice”
Jersey Shore
To be uncultivated is our choice.

Hello Top Model and Jersey Shore
Fairwell, integrity, you matter no more
This is us now, unlike before
We don’t care about intellect anymore
I mean, like, you know…
What for?

Let us have self-respect, just a little bit.
Let us have decency, dirty beet.

Also, to further illustrate what I mean with "The Decay of Principles and Standards aka my standards are worth a rat's arse" let me show you a photo displaying four (4) half naked men wearing torn jeans and shoe wear of poor taste. Said men are also holding a delicious looking sandwich which is being devoured by a girl wearing something that appears to be clothing.

Yep. This picture is for real. It's the Jersey Shore crew. Why do we watch this?

We reduce ourselves by reducing our standards. What we consume is what we are. We subject ourselves to the lowest form of entertainment possible. Shows like Jersery Shore and America's Next Top Model have neither heart, nor brain, nor belly fats and as a result thereof, we forget about our own hearts, brains and end up focusing on our belly fats instead.

At this point, I would like to express that it would be great if losing one's belly fats was as easy as losing one's integrity. Then I wouldn't have to worry about integrity and could be happily partying ever after. With tight skirts and maybe bikini tops.

Anhoo, since I'm too lazy to work on my abs, I am forced to work on preserving/restoring what they call "integrity". This, I will attempt by constantly reminding myself that there are alternative sources of entertainment out there. It wouldn’t hurt to read a good book, watch a brilliant film, and listen to honest music every once in a while.

It wouldn't hurt either to do a couple of sit-ups every morning.

Or would it?

There great books like The Fountainhead, films like Anchorman, and musicz like Chopin and El Ten Eleven (har har) that should remind us of the fact that we are human beings with hearts, souls, brains and big bellies and that they need to be fed with quality and burritos in order for them not to decay.

I will be more careful when it comes to what and who I expose myself to. Also, I will try not be sandwich eating, half naked lady with poor taste when it comes to shoes.

Because really, things like being seksi and beautiful and half naked are not really relevant in life. Sandwhiches, pwede pa. But then again, no, they're really not.

What is relevant are principles and values.
Ambitions and setting your standards.

In the end, who cares about my dress anyway? (haha)
Or the pants I wear?
The bag I carry? Or my weird hair?

Nobodeh.

Speaking of important questions in life, here's a list of things that I don't understand and wish to find answers to:

-Justin Bieber and I do not have the same hair cut. Why does everyone insist we do?
- The Holocaust of Jersey Shore and hairpsray.
- That show with the Playboy bunnies and how Hugh can still walk.
- Jennifer's Body is a movie about Megan's body
- Doc. Phil does NOT have a medical certificate. Or does he?
- Black Eyed Peas and what does Dirty Beet even mean?
- Dirty Beet and what does Black Eyed Peas even mean?

Once the aforementioned have been answered, I will proceed with the ff:

- What values do I have left?
- What principles is my character made of?
- What lack of principles is my poor character made of?
- What do I want to achieve in life?
- What matters?

That's it. Quintessentially, what I'm trying to say, I think, is that we owe it to ourselves to ask relevant questions every now and then. Otherwise we might as well just be empty vessels with abs. But don't forget, every Thurdsay and Friday is American Idol day!

Til then,

Peace and Love, Tyra

Intelligent People

2011-01-23T18:33:00.000-08:00

I got to talk to a really smart person. (Exciting.)

He told me:

"The curse of smart people is that they will always find justification to endure suffering."

Boo hooo. Poor intellectuals.

I told him:

"The real curse of smart people isn't their ability to justify shite, but their ability to always find something to bitch about.

Like...

You complaining about being smart because it gives you the ability to justify shite."

I'd prefer Tyra Banks over any Nietsche dude for her ability to see the beauty in every damn shite model on the running of becoming America's Next Top Model.

Also, having a negative outlook in life doesn't make you sound any smarter, bhoi. BOOM SHAKALAKA!

American Idol and Lauryn Hill

2011-01-20T08:26:00.000-08:00

I love Lauryn Hill. And I love how she didn't stop singing despite initial audible doubt from the pessimist crowd. Said crowd was too quick to judge and wanted her off the stage after they heard 3 or 4 notes from her. How awful, awful.

Beautiful, beautiful Lauryn, however, kept on singing and didn't let the negative vibes get to her. SERIOUSLY: What if- because of a slightly off start and lack of support- she had given up on singing right then and there? (And with that I mean, at exactly 1:00 in the video?)

It would have meant such an inexcusable waste of great music and incredible talent.

Speaking of which, American Idol Season 10 just started today and after my office mates and I were done laughing at a bunch of seemingly horrible contestants, we proceeded with feeling elevated by the fact that we immediately recognize the absence of talent thanks to our fine judgment.

Then I saw this Lauryn video.

Oh oh.

Note to self:
A lot of people, a lot of times, are so much better than we care to even have the patience (and dare I say? Ability) to see.

Ps.: Steven Tyler has a cocaine problem. Or he's just really excited to be on American Idol. Perhaps the botox in his face makes him look excited and like a coke addict both at the same time.

Angsty Bands

2011-01-20T05:36:00.000-08:00

After it was clear that our salary was going to be delayed, I decided to listen to bands that reflect the angst in me right now.

System Is A Down
Linking Park This Shit
and
Incubus ng pera

Help me through this night of angst.

How dare you not take care of your employees, Mr. Corporate Monster.

One day I will have my own band and I will annoy you with reggae and I will spread the love and pass dutchie to the left hand side.

Thankyouverymuch.

Conversations

2011-01-19T18:53:00.001-08:00

A: Today is my lucky day. I got on an airconditioned bus.
B: I did something really wild today. I snoozed 4 times.

Life gets extra exciting when you acknowledge your luck and aren't scared to be a little crazy.

Now go and be adventurous. PRONTO.

Realiziation

2011-01-13T09:05:00.000-08:00

From believing in the Easter Bunny and Santa, my childish beliefs now hope that Meralco and PLDT forgot to bill me this month.

Conversations Part 9283

2011-01-12T06:30:00.000-08:00

Overheard an "Entrepreneur Students" conversation.

A: OMG. He's cute. AND he just made his first million.
B: Net or gross?

Gross or gross?

Just A Tought

2011-01-11T04:44:00.001-08:00

Jogging

2011-01-10T05:02:00.000-08:00

To go jogging was the plan. Instead, I ended up eating pizza, pasta, and lasagna for dinner. However, I feel it's important to note that it wasn't in that particular order.

This whole over-eating made it impossible for me to go jogging, because -naturally- I'm too full to move. Now, this means that I will have to atone for my gluttonous sins and jog in my dreams later since the gym closes at 10 and I won't be going home any time soon. Remember, I'm trying to sit out this whole pizza-pasta-lasagna situation here.

Jogging in my dreams means that I won't get any mental rest tonight, which also means that I will be too tired to wake early to jog in the morning, which also means that I will be too tired to jog at night. It is a vicious cycle, people. And it is not only the cycle that is round in this scenario. If you know what I mean.
Also, my conscience is a vast, gray land filled with dangerous, vicious, and blood-sucking creatures. As you can imagine, a traumatizing childhood, a failed attempt at being a cool teenager, and a even more traumatizing corporate existence do not make up for the best jogging terrain in the other world. There are pot holes, heart throbs, and over-achievers scattered all over the place and I have to avoid them as much as I can. Try avoiding these booby traps while you're trying to catch your breath and trying to make sure that your heart doesn't give up on you while you're just doing your best to get the fuck to where you are supposed to be. (And who knows where that is, right?)

Had I been a cooler teenager, I would eat less and jog more. In the real world, and in my dreams.

Would the Corporate World and the Grown Up World allow me to, I'd play Lasertag everyday to keep fit.

But alas, I will just sit this one out, hope to wake up tomorrow and attempt to jog in the real world once more.

Books and Crooks

2011-01-09T19:25:00.000-08:00

‎Somebody famous once said: "A mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone."
I, unfortunately, don't recall who said that because I read this quotation on someone's Facebook Status and Facebook Users don't deem it necessary to inform us about who exactly it is that they quote to make themselves look smart (I myself use that technique).
Considering our current pop culture situation, I'd dare say that it's from a Black Eyed Peas song. Dirty Beet.

In any case, "A mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone" is an important reminder that it is unmistakingly clear that we must read books in order to build our own opinion. Or at least, in order to learn how one builds his own opinion. That's for sure, I read it somewhere.

This post should just, once again, reinforce that we should never accept someone else's world view without scrutinizing it. Otherwise you're just another fool who lives by imposed ambitions, opinions, and standards. Thus, never agree unless you look at everything from all sides, from within, and also from above, if you have the money to afford an airplane. If you happen to be an alien, feel free to use your UFO or extra-terrestial X-ray powers to inspect closely, what is presented before you.

Never.Just.Agree. That being said, I have to fully agree with what KISS so eloquently put after re-evaluating my ambitions in life. I decided to just stick to what has been; I'd like to rock'n'roll all night and party everyday. Thankyouverymuch.

While we're talking about necessities in life, let me also make clear that my belly needs chocolate like a baby needs its mother's milk.

I hope to see everyone quote me on this. No need to mention my name. It's much cooler to be known as the unknown. I mean, it's much more mysterious that way.

So much for today, folks. You may go back to your (extra-terrestial) lives.

Hope you're all having a good day filled with books and crooks and The Black Eyed Peas. Dirty Beet.

Conversation Part 73 (aka my office mate is going to be a daddy!)

2011-01-09T18:53:00.001-08:00

A: Who's your OB?
B: OB Wan Kenobi.

Congratulations on becoming a Daddy! You can start your family soccer team na!

Realization

2011-01-05T22:59:00.000-08:00

Today is Realization Day as I've had two (2) major realizations:

1. Your disapproval of my character is a manifestation of my integrity (or what's left of it).

2. "I don't like your attitude" usually translates into "I don't like the fact that you're fierce."

Today is also the day of secretely drinking vodka. At 3pm. At my desk in the office.

So much for integrity and attitude.

Cheers!

Realization

2011-01-03T06:11:00.001-08:00

We may not always know what we want in life.
That's okay.
But, we should always know what we value in life.
That's for real real.

Thumbsucker

2011-01-01T00:36:00.000-08:00

Thumbsucker.

One of the good ones. If you haven't seen the movie, please watch it. It's quite pleasant.

It's no heartbreaking tragedy, no epic battle, no outrageous success story, and no legendary comedy. Neither are there crazy beautiful, hauntingly charming, nor disarmingly clever characters in the movie.

It's just a bunch of normal people, facing normal problems that normal people like you and I can relate to.

Yet, all this normalcy somehow manages to be so incredibly delightful.

I like that there are great movies about average people with trivial problems. Because people like us seldom get to see great movies about our petty achievements, boring love stories, and rotten fates. Maybe because we don't really have any stories to tell in the first place. Maybe because we look the way we look. Probably because nobody really cares.

However, us boring people sometimes deserve a tribute, too. For doing things because we have to, not because we want to. For living our banal fates and for not complaining about the lack of excitement in our world. We deserve some recognition because we wake up everyday to live trivialities that would never make for an Academy Award winning movie.

And that's just that.

Memorable quotes from the movie:

Dr. Perry Lyman: I stopped trying to be anything. I accepted myself in all my human disorder. You might wanna do the same.

Dr. Perry Lyman: That's 'cause we all wanna be problemless. To fix ourselves. We look for some magic solution to make us all better, but none of us really know what we're doing. And why is that so bad? That's all we humans can do. Guess. Try. Hope. But, Justin, just pray you don't fool yourself into thinking you've got the answer. Because that's bullshit. The trick is living without an answer. I think.

Joel Cobb: You ever think maybe you're so busy being weird, that I have to step up and be normal?

Mike Cobb: [on hearing Justin's going away to college] I was just... getting used to you.

Ps.: I think the mere fact of us being okay with our boring lives and accepting it (more or less) gracefully is already a damn heartbreaking tragedy, an epic battle, an outrageous success story in itself, and definitely delivers enough stuff for a legendary comedy; it may it not be for Hollywood, but we at least are real .

Just a thought.

Happy New Year aka What To Wear Tonight

2010-12-30T22:53:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wish all the books I've read magically turned into fashionable clothes and heels, so I'd have stuff to wear and make me look good when I'm forced to go into clubs.

But alas, I'll just get drunk and try to look smart in jeans and sneakers.

Conversations Part 312 (AKA Things that make you go mhhh)

2010-12-28T01:34:00.000-08:00

A: Are you half German or something?
B: No. I'm a model.

No comment. Just Mhhhh.

Conversations Part 93

2010-12-27T19:33:00.000-08:00

A: How have you been? It's been so long.
B: I'm good. I'm steady. Happy. Boring.
A: Wow, not the person I knew. Before you were all sad, complicated and fun.

Oh dear. Did I really sacrifice the Fun for the Happy?

Conversations Part 39

2010-12-24T19:28:00.000-08:00

A: I want to travel and see the world.
B: So you're just going to quit your job? End your career?
A: I guess so.
B: You already quit school.You don't have a degree. You're lucky you even got a decent job. Now you want to throw that all away?
A: I guess so.
B: You're not making use of your intellect's full potential.
A: You're not making use of life's full potential.

This is the story of how naivete killed intellect.

Dr. Amor

2010-12-21T18:31:00.000-08:00

That is the name of my cardiologist.

Not kidding, fools.

How ironic is that?

Dr. Amor: How is your heart today?
Me: So messed up, dude.

My Journal

2010-12-14T19:24:00.000-08:00

random little thoughts sent out to the universe.
little treasures shared with nobody in particular.
senseless rantings shouted into the void.
nothing that really matters,
but everything that needs to be said.

Realization

2010-12-14T18:49:00.000-08:00

What moves me more than anything is beauty.

Our KFC Hearts

2010-12-13T07:05:00.000-08:00

On our left side we have the human heart.

On our right side we have a KFC chicken.

They say about KFC chicken that the animals have to endure the torture of being trapped and fattened with nonsense for the mere purpose of then being consumed by the brainwashed and ignorant people that don't care about the cruelty that satisfies their cravings.

I can't help but notice the similarities between a human heart and a chicken drumstick. Kindly refer to my pitiful drawing above.

Save our hearts and souls.

Let's enjoy our big, fat meals, people. Feed upon another's humiliation.

Ps.: This could also work with burgers and brains. Let me work on it asap.

Adieu Mon Coeur

2010-12-13T00:44:00.000-08:00

Man Hater

2010-12-10T21:26:00.000-08:00

From the Urban Dictionary:
A person, usually female, who despises, hates, and loathes the entire male population for no valid reason. The person, again usually female, belives that all men are scum no matter what and that all men are all lying, cheating, no good asshole s.

I would like to announce that I, Jac R., am officially a Man Hater.

Much Love,

Jac

Eternal Sunshine

2010-12-10T18:49:00.000-08:00

Look, man, I'm telling you right off the bat I'm high maintenance,


so I'm not gonna tiptoe around your marriage...


or whatever it is you've got going there.


If you wanna be with me, you're with me.


Okay.


Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them,


or I'm gonna make them alive.


But I'm just a fucked-up girl who's looking for my own peace of mind.


Don't assign me yours. I remember that speech really well.


I had you pegged, didn't I? You had the whole human race pegged.

DOOM

2010-12-08T22:44:00.000-08:00

Are you a boy?

Yes?

Do you like pretty girls?

Yes?

Do you like pretty girls with no brains?
Yes?

You won't have a problem.

Moving on.

Are you a boy?

Yes?

Do you like pretty girls?
Yes?

Do you like pretty girls who are smart?

Yes?

You have a problem.
That being, the girl you like is most likely to either

belittle

despise

revenge

or use

you for liking her for her looks.

If she doesn't, she's not really as smart as she claims to be.

If she really is smart, she will be most unpleasant.

Go for plain pretty.

Escape Vehicles by A-Z (Andrea Zittel)

2010-12-08T18:10:00.001-08:00

Guys, 3 things:

1. Longing for Capsulation:

2. Wanting to escape:

3. Andrea Zittel

AZ I think what makes my work art is that it’s a very personal form of exploration. I thought about becoming a designer but a designer has the responsibility to make products that best serve the greatest number of people, and I don’t think that’s so liberating.

AZ What I’m interested in is that each person examines his own goals, talents and options, and then based on these begins to invent new models or roles to fulfill his or her needs.

AZ Sometimes when I project forward to a hundred years from now I imagine an art historian trying to talk about our times and I think that they will look back more at changes in design than at developments in art.

Your thoughts, guys? haha I'm just kidding. I know nobody reads this.

Til then

"I never paint dreams or nightmares. I paint my own reality"

2010-12-08T17:34:00.000-08:00

Frida Kahlo on being referred to as a Surrealist.

''I should like to erase the fixed boundaries that we self-assured humans like to draw around anything we can achieve'' -Hannah Hoech

2010-12-08T00:29:00.000-08:00

Note to self: Must draw again.

Be fierce like Hannah.

Conversations Part 67 (aka Stan)

2010-12-05T06:14:00.000-08:00

A: It was Woody's birthday yesterday. You should have sent him a fan mail.
B: I don't believe in Fan Mail. I wrote Nick Carter once. He never replied.
A: It does work. My friend wrote Michelle Branch before and she replied with a picture and an autograph.
B: Stan once wrote Eminem. We both know how that turned out.

You see, it's not a good idea.

Happy Birthday, Woody, my love.

Fountainhead

2010-11-29T23:45:00.001-08:00

[...] Some give up at the first touch of pressure; some sell out; some run down by imperceptible degrees and lose their fire, never knowing when or how they lost it. Then all of these vanish in the vast swamp of their elders who tell them persistently that maturity consists of of abandoning one's mind; security, of abandoning one's values; practicality, of losing self-esteem. Yet a few hold on and move on, knowing that that fire is not to be betrayed, learning how to give it shape, purpose and reality.

[...] This is one of the cardinal reasons of The Fountainhead's lasting appeal: it is a confirmation of the spirit of youth, proclaiming man's glory, showing how much is possible.

It does not matter that only a few in each generation will grasp and achieve the full reality of man's proper stature - and that the rest will betray it. It is those few that move the world and give life its meaning - and it is those few that I have always sought to address. The rest are no concern of mine; is is not me or The Fountainhead that they will betray: it is their own souls.

-Ayn Rand.

Bawm!

Ps.: I just realized how sad it is not to have thoughts on my own and that I keep on quoting greatness instead of creating it.

La la ladida.

Identity Crisis

2010-11-25T17:45:00.000-08:00

It's funny how a person you don't even really know makes you realize how lame you actually have become.

Time to dwell in the identity crisis and hope to learn from it.

Conversations Part 8 (This Thing)

2010-11-22T17:57:00.000-08:00

A: so what are your plans? Go to an ashram? Become a yogi? Eat Pray Love?

B: No. I met a girl in Indonesia earlier this year and we're kinda trying to do this...thing. Figure something out. So we're moving to Bangkok together then travel to India.

A: This "thing" being a relationship?

B: yeah. Don't use that word, though! You know how i am. Ihope there will be plenty of eating, praying, and loving, though.

A: haha okay, good luck with the thing, then :) Planning to travel with Nadja as well.

B: Yeah. I wish nadja was my... thing.

A: This "thing" being your penis?

B: But alas, wasn't meant to be.

Maybe in another lifetime she can be your penis.

My BFF is so wise

2010-11-21T06:49:00.000-08:00

"I asked them to think of the person that makes it challenging for them to love them and through their practice put them back into their hearts. Because honestly, if we can't d that, it doesn't matter how much yoga we do. We're never gonna be able to fucking breathe." -Nadja El Kinani, My BFF (who happens to be a Yoga Instructor)

I'm so fucking scared of hurting people and doing all the wrong things.

She also said: "Too bad there are no condoms for broken hearts"

Books For Free

2010-11-19T02:46:00.001-08:00

I decided to give away all my books.

Just as I did with all my CDs.

Nobody is supposed to get attached to things.

I will miss my books, though.

Ludovico

2010-11-19T02:38:00.000-08:00

I'm planning to go home and start a new adventure. Work hard, save some money, then travel the world a bit.

Then let's take it from there.

That's better than being stuck in an office and losing one's soul.

Wish me luck.

If I Love You, What Business Is That Of Yours?

2010-11-17T20:04:00.000-08:00

From the ever so romantic Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

How to get by?

2010-11-17T20:00:00.000-08:00

No idea. But this song is nice.

Conversations Part 7

2010-11-14T17:44:00.001-08:00

A: Did you know that Marlboro Reds was initially marketed to women?
B: Wasn't it cowboys?

Yes, indeed, bhoi.

Conversations Part 7

2010-11-08T07:50:00.000-08:00

A: How are you?
B: Good. Interestingly enough, work is the highlight of my day.
A: Interestingly enough or uninterestingly enough?

Hearing about your work bores me.

I want to be as bald/bold as her

2010-11-07T22:21:00.000-08:00

Conversations Part 6

2010-11-07T21:14:00.000-08:00

Mom: Jac, take off your (ear) piercing. And your hair is too short. You look like a boy.

Me: Mom, it's not my goal to look pretty. I want to look fierce.

Just like Tyra.

A Screwtape Letter

2010-11-05T00:49:00.000-07:00

Dear Wormwood,

I see you don't have much work these days as humans are turning into evil beings without your influence. Very well. While I'm concerned about our employment and the need of manpower for our profession (dragging people to hell), I'm happy to see that the world is very much turning my utopia of a pumpin' hell into reality. I will worry about my career as the director of the "Temptation Agency" some other time and bask in the glory of success in the meantime.

Obviously, aside from usual temptations such as material things that nobody needs, pretentiousness and the need to be socially likable and its corresponding silly behaviors, I am delighted to see that there is a new strong tool that turns good people into evil beings. The Facebook or Facebook or whatever it is called. People now get to advertise themselves without having to fear being called "shameless". It's always been pretty clear to me that men and women alike were vain, but that they now are given a tool to live out their vanity, that is absolutely fantastic. It was always one of our most successful approaches to lure people into hell by appealing to their vanity.

Back to Facebook, I'm especially interested in the 'Profile Pictures'. So since man now gets to post pictures of himself in order to look good,I see a lot of opportunity for us here.

Now, get yourself a Facebook Profile, too. Since you're already the spawn of the devil , I don't see a problem in you having some earthly fun with Facebook yourself. The reason why I would need you to get on Facebook is that it makes it really easy for us to screen people and determine as to who will be easy to influence and ultimately bring to our side (the "bad" side har har).

So these are the people I want you to look for:

> People who post 'cropped out' pictures of themselves.
> People who photoshop their pictures before they post them.
> Whoever has 50+ photos of himself is more likely to be persuaded to join our cause.

Bottomeline is: the more photos the better. It's easier for us to point out their vanity if we have a lot of pictures as evidence.

> People who post status messages about their emotions and try to attract attention by being enigmatic and dramatic about their misery. "But what is so potentially evil about that?" you might rightfully ask, and the answer is: nothing. Nothing is evil about posting attention-seeking status messages, but it's incredibly annoying and I do not wish for hell to have people like that. If you come accross emotional masturbation, please 'hide' from your wall, we don't want anything to do with them. Let Him deal with their emotions.

The tricky part is to get the real evil ones. The ones that are already evil and would make great additions to our neighborhood and show potential to raise the ranks in hell. As it always has been, the real evil people are also the hardest to find because they hide their bad roots so well. In terms of Facebook, I suppose the smarter and more evil ones don't just post pictures that make their faces look good, but post pictures that make their character look good. I.e.: Keeping the number of profile pictures low might not be a sign of being humble, but could very well be a sign of very calculated and evil thinking. These people are well aware of the fact that posting a thousand one-dimensional pictures of themselves won't make them look good, but in fact, bad. Thus they post pictures that will make them look a)funny, b)smart, c) crazy, and of course d)pretty/handsome. In terms of priority of what should be perceived first, that's most likely the preferred order as well. The more subtle their vanity, the more evil the Facebook user most likely is. Please always be aware of that and have a keen eye when you stalk them.

I myself am on Facebook and if you didn't know me, you would think I'm humble AND great. Needless to say, that isn't the case. Neither am I humble, nor is greatness one of my character traits. My Facebook is just very well thought of and every move I make on it is supposed to add to the image that I created for myself. It's fun! Add me, if you have time. I promise not to embarrass you in front of your friends by posting affectionate stuff to your wall.

Lastly, I remember the guy who invented Facebook. Mark Zuckerberg, is it? He sold his soul and we gave him 25billion dollars in return. Send him my regards, will you.

Now my little Wormwood, good luck in finding potentially vain people and turning them evil (or making them more evil than they already are).

Happy Stalking.

Most affectionately yours,

Your Uncle Screwtape

PS.: Try to find out why they do the things they do. I don't understand.

Mental

2010-11-02T02:29:00.000-07:00

Ok, so here's the deal: I faint a lot.

The doctors say it's my heart that beats more slowly than it should, which is why I'm rather steady and tend to pass out every so often. But I don't mind. Steady is good, I think.

My personal diagnosis is that my heart is tired from a previous life (perhaps even because of this life), but since that theory of mine cannot be medically proven, I won't bring it up if not necessary (except of course in this very blog, where discussing the condition of my heart is very necessary).

As a person who faints a lot I get to go to hospitals just as much (it's a privilege, isn't it?) whenever I manage to hit my head somewhere or make a scene and scare people who then become concerned about me being all pale and all unconcious. (At this point I would like to add that my being half Swiss naturally makes me look pale. But them poor concerned people might not be aware of that.)

Just recently, I was rushed to the hospital again because of my fainting. Usually I would panic at the thought of the hospital bill awaiting me, and would then ultimately showcase said panic by fainting..well...again. But not this time. This time I thought: "Luckily, I have health insurance! I can faint as much as I want!"
But wait! It would be too nice and my heart would still be strong if the world actually did care about the sick and the poor (i.e.: me)and if Health Insurance companies actually did exist because they want to help.

As it turned out, my health insurance denied my request to reimburse my hospitalization fee, totally ignoring the fact that my heart can't take any more pain induced by cruel people and companies. A little sensitivity here, please.

This is what they had to say regarding my hospitalization:

"Likewise, if you are referring to the claim of Ms. Jacqueline R., the diagnosis which is neurovascular asthenia, is part of the exclusion under mental, nervous or other functional disorder of the mind."

Help me out here, will ya. Are they calling me crazy? "Mental, nervous or other functional disorders of the mind" ? Doesn't that plain and simply mean: "You are a little nuts, my friend. We are NOT here to help. kthanksbye."?

I would understand if they told me that they couldn't cover for my tired heart because I really don't expect Insurance Companies to care about the heart breaks I've been through. But to tell me that they can't reimburse my money because I'm weird, is not nice. Not nice at all. Don't be surprised if I go berserk and ambush your office with my BB Gun. 'Cause really, you were the ones who called me crazy in the first place. So don't blame me for living up to it.

But oh well. Anger set aside. And my heart shall grow even more tired and more tired of this sad, sad world.

PS.: Ambot sa emo. This must be my most horrible entry to date. Ang emo lang talaga.

Beach Baby

2010-10-27T08:26:00.000-07:00

Dearest Other Guy,

I understand you have found a person you can connect (and not just internetically speaking) with: my Nadja/BFF.

Of course, this doesn't surprise me. Everybody falls in love with her. Really, if we were all orcs, wouldn't she, at some racial level, be something like an elf? Something strangely intriguing with flaxen hair and all that elvish jazz? There is just something about her, isn't there? Oh and please don't say that she's Eat Pray Love either, because she's so much more than that. Let's not reduce her to a fictional character. I'm sure a lot of people (including herself) would love to think that she is oh-so-Eat-Pray-Love. Admittedly, she really is a lot about eat, pray, and love, but not as a character in a book, but as a mantra in life. Fictional characters are limiting, and Nadja is everything but limited.

She would never shrink herself to simply fit in.

I wonder what it is that fascinates you the most. Her bipolar sense of humor? Her wit? Her joie de vivre? Her laissez faire or her long flaxen hair?
Whatever it is, all of the aforementioned elements isolated would already make a very convincing case, but combined, they just create this awesome canvass. And the world is the paint.

And that is what you need to know about her. As a friend, I am telling you this, to reinforce that she is indeed awesome, and also to warn you; She's a traveler, and that she shall always be. Again, she's the canvass and the world is her paint. Whatever comes her way, she'll take it and make something beautiful out of it.
There is nothing that she can't have and oceans and mountains built in between won't stop her from getting what she wants. She's not afraid to go great lengths to fulfill her even greater dreams.

What I'm trying to say is that she'll always be somewhere else. And that is precisely the reason why her and I have been best friends for such a long time: We don't need to be near each other. The only condition there is if you want to be near her: be able to take being far from her. If you can't see yourself doing that, I'm sorry my friend, you will not be able to take being her friend for long. Because she will want to leave for another adventure real soon. Or she will want to leave to escape the monotony that strangles her wherever it is she had settled in.

Did you ever hear her laugh? She has this laugh that you'll love the first time you hear it and I'm not saying that because she's my BFF, but because I'm half Swiss and thus half neutral and thus I master the art of objective thinking. If you haven't heard her laugh, please call her and say something like "Hi, it's me. A little Wanker" which should really make her laugh and just listen to that enormous tornado of good vibes. Please do call her if you haven't heard her laugh. And don't forget to say that you're a wanker, okay? Of course you're not a wanker, but it should be absurd enough to make her laugh.

You know, there would be too many things to tell you about her, but I hope you'll get the chance to get to know her yourself.

I'd rather just let you know that she's a mutant who has super metabolism that can digest sunlight and thus she has crazy powers and also that she hides a dick in her pants. I promised her to never write that, but I'm not to be trusted and I don't write coherent essays, so I'll leave it at that.

Nadja is strange. Believe me. And you're lucky you're going to meet her. She's going to make you feel special by just being part of your life. Believe, I know. I feel that way because of her. And I love her because of that. And please don't break her heart in a million pieces because I will do the same thing with your nose.

Bye NutJob (RUN!)

Happy Birthday, Beach Baby. I wrote this letter to all the guys waiting to meet you.

I will name my two cats Anne Sexton and Sylvia Plath and have them endure 9 lives each

2010-10-20T01:51:00.000-07:00

After Auschwitz

Anger,
as black as a hook,
overtakes me.
Each day,
each Nazi took,
at 8: 00 A.M., a baby
and sauteed him for breakfast
in his frying pan.

And death looks on with a casual eyea
nd picks at the dirt under his fingernail.

Man is evil, I say aloud.
Man is a flower
that should be burnt,
I say aloud.
Manis a bird full of mud,
I say aloud.

And death looks on with a casual eye
and scratches his anus.

Man with his small pink toes,
with his miraculous fingers
is not a temple
but an outhouse,
I say aloud.

Let man never again raise his teacup.
Let man never again write a book.Let man never again put on his shoe.
Let man never again raise his eyes, on a soft July night.
Never. Never. Never. Never. Never.
I say those things aloud.

I beg the Lord not to hear.

Anne Sexton

Lady Lazarus

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

Sylvia Plath

I know, I know, 'So typical of a girl in her 20s to like Anne and Sylvia and to adore them as if they were heroines when in fact, all they were, were suicides.

We'd like to think it's a mature version of Holden's Catcher In The Rye. Something like coming-of-older-age angst.

Angst that is more profound, but quieter. It's more grounded and easier to hide. But it is there and it is Sylvia and Anne (my cats) that make it easier to live with it.

As Woody once said, it was the College Girl Mentality that advertised Sylvia Plath's stupendous suidcide as something romantic. I'm pretty sure he has a point and I quoted him on this many times.

I don't really care, though.

When you read a poem and it just makes you shiver because you realize that somebody just said something great, something that nobody would never dare say, and did so.... beautifully, then you just gotta copy paste that shit and put in on your blog hoping that one person would read it. Or not. In any case. I gotta go and do something absolutely uneventful and leave no marks whatsoever in this world.

My limited knowledge of the world won't help me comprehend this (Part 2)

2010-10-11T22:19:00.000-07:00

There's something fundamentally wrong with the way we think and feel about Beauty, Health, and Sex Appeal. Let's blame society, shall we.

Everybody, please meet Gossip's Beth Ditto and her flesh. She rocks the stage. And she rocks it real hard. (At times, even literally).

I read somewhere that she was scrutinized because she was "normalizing" the image of obesity.

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet some skinny ass model and her bones.

Please, don't tell me that "normalizing obesity" is the real issue here.

Conversations Part 5 (aka My Bandmates)

2010-10-11T21:15:00.000-07:00

A: I play this song with my bandmates.
B: You have bandmates?
A: Yes. Dennis.

Can't wait to see all of you rock the stage, you and Dennis.

Conversations Part 39473

2010-10-10T05:08:00.000-07:00

A: See you at my place.
B: Almost there.
A: I'm not wearing pants.

And the morale of this story is:

a) Always announce that you're visiting
b) Pants are pointless if you're single and you live alone

However, if you happen to be Serena Williams, even knickers are useless. (http://thejacquelinetrash.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-limited-knowledge-of-world-wont-help.html)

Note To Self

2010-10-08T13:48:00.000-07:00

There was this guy who I thought was -quite frankly- an incredibly annoying douche. In my eyes, he was imposing his calculated intellect on me, he was praising art and himself as if art were him and he were art. There was nothing new about him that could have struck me as interesting, and he just tried to be a cliche; Troy Dyier (but not really), Kurt Cobain (but not really), Andy Warhol (but not really).
On top of all of that, he would have the tendency to belittle people who don't have the same fake ideals and essence-less thoughts that lacked originality.

So, naturally, I would show my antipathy when we would "debate" on such pretentious topics as the arts, politics, and philosophy.

Eventually he sensed my aversion, and this is what he then said to me:

"I never did that to you. Never did I have a pre-conceived notion of who you are and then consistently insisted on you being the way I pictured you to be."

Man, that sucks. That douche bag got me there.

Note to self: Jac, don't be a dumb ass.

You Are The Canvass And The World Is Your Paint

2010-10-02T12:34:00.000-07:00

Today I had my palm read by the girlfriend of my boyfriend's homie. She shall be called "Palm Reader".

She's a fierce one, that one.

Being self-absorbed as I am, I will blog about it.

I might have to explain that I've known the The Palm reader for quite a long time, but never asked her to read me since I was always too afraid to hear what my life might have in store for me (maybe I'm hiding a dark secret, but we don't want to dwell on that right now). So while everyone else in the circle had long had their palm read before, tonight was my first time to find out what my hands actually have to say about me, my life and my future.

And this is what she had to say. (of course what you will read below is not verbatim, but more or less what she said and also what I want you to know she said in order to make me look cool).

PART I
"You have a guy's hands. You would never admit or acknowledge how much you care for somebody or how much you love somebody. And this doesn't just count for romantic love. Any kind of love. Don't get me wrong, you show what a person means to in action, but you would never say it out loud or even admit it to yourself. If my car were to break down in the pouring rain late at night, you would help me out in a heart beat, no doubt about that. You do care for people, but you can't just give me a hug and tell me how much I mean to you."

PART II
"There's something missing. You're happy, but you know you're not content. You don't know yet what is missing. It could be a person, an event or a realization, but something is missing. And unless you get it, experience it, or realize it, you won't be fulfilled."

PART III
"It's funny, I can't really see what your future will look like. A lot of people that I read have a constant thing, something that will be the same throughout their life. A direction. You don't have that. Your future is blank. There's nothing I can foretell. And I know that doesn't worry you, does it. You just let everything happen to you, you absorb it very intensely, and then you move on, ready for the next step; whatever that may be. You just let life happen to you without having any direction you want to go. Without being scared.
If I were to leave you in the middle of the desert, you wouldn't panic, you wouldn't be scared, you would just be happy to experience something new. In 10 years from now you could be anywhere, doing anything. Whatever the world will throw at you, you'll take it. You're the canvass, and the world is you paint. You're nomadic. A gypsy."

PART IV
"The only constant thing that I can see is that you have a gift. Like me. You're highly sensitive. Have you ever played that game where you sit in a coffee shop and just observe people?"

And so that's what I did tonight, folks. Had my palm read after years of refusing to do exactly that. Not that you people actually really care about my palm and who I am. But if you do wanna know what I'm like, ask The Palm reader. She pretty much hit the spot.

Good night, everybody. I shall let the universe paint me life now. "You're the canvass and the world is your paint." I love that she said that. I really do. I think it's beautiful. And I also believe that it's not just me, but all of us who are canvasses for whatever colors life has.

And it reminded of that beautiful Bright Eyes song.Bowl of Oranges:

"But if the world could remain within a frame like a painting on a wall.
Then I think we would see the beauty.
Then we would stand staring in awe at our still lives posed like a bowl of oranges,
like a story told by the fault lines and the soil."

So that's pretty much it. And yes, I do like to observe people. Especially if they're beautiful ladies on the run of becoming America's Next Top Model.

The Man

2010-09-27T17:01:00.000-07:00

"The man who comes back through the Door in the Wall will never be the same as the man who went out. He will be wiser but less sure, happier but less self-satisfied, humbler in acknowledging his ignorance yet better equipped to understand the relationship of words to things"
-Aldous Huxley

Are You Excited For Your Life In 10 Years From Now?

2010-09-27T06:28:00.000-07:00

I can't make your pain go away

2010-09-25T10:48:00.001-07:00

That's what my dentist told me today.

If she won't do it, who else will? (Fuck this shit)

Pros And Cons Of Growing Up

2010-09-22T07:09:00.000-07:00

PROS

I get to buy all the toys I want myself
I get to eat as much candy as I like. And I get to eat dessert before breakfast
I get to stay up late
I can watch horror movies at the mall without my parents hihi
No more annoying math classes. Yahoooo!
I don't have to go to school
Momol
Dad doesn't clean my face with his hanky that he just spat on
Mom doesn't constantly tell me to clean after myself
My brothers don't fart-attack me

CONS

I have to pay for my toys
It's not cute to be a chubby-cheesecake
Not getting enough sleep and no Saturday morning cartoons
Having to go to the dentist alone
BILLS + BILLS = NO MONEY
I have to go to stupid work
People generally expect me to get married one day
Dad is getting older
Mom can't fix everything for me anymore
My brothers don't fart-attack me anymore. They're in military school and shoot with real guns now.

My Life According To The Wu Tang Clan

2010-09-21T05:33:00.000-07:00

So this was a Facebook exercise. Facebook conformity forces me to participate in these things.Also boredom.

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, answer these questions. You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "my life according to (band name)" Tag your music loving friends!

Describe yourself: Ain't Nuthin Ta F'Wit
How do you feel:
Describe where you currently live: In The Hood
If you could go anywhere, where would you go: Brooklyn Zoo
Your favourite form of transportation: Rushing Elephants
Your best friend is(are): Sucker MC's or Little Ghetto Boys
Your fear: Sunlight
What is the best advice you have to give: Run
Thought for the day: Shimmy Shimmy Ya
How I would like to die: Wolves
My soul's present condition: Soul Power (Black Jungle)
My motto: Bring Da Ruckus

I'm Gangstah like that. Also, I ain't got no feelings, mothafuckaz.

A picture of me with RZA and the rest of the Wu Tang Clan.

I Don't Need No More (DTI) Trouble

2010-09-20T09:22:00.000-07:00

You got that right, Bob Marley Brutha!

Everybody: I got myself into serious trouble at work. And Brutha Bobby; when I say "trouble", I mean "TROUBLE!!!!!!!". With outrageous fines to pay, and quite possibly my job on the line. My ass is grass, brutha Bobby. Knowing you though, you would dig that.

So. I'm in this disastrous situation thanks to DTI (The Department of Trade and Industry. See here: http://thejacquelinetrash.blogspot.com/2010/09/kagawaran-ng-kalakalan-at-industriya.html). That motherfathing biatch. But that's not enough. Add to that the fact that I've been experiencing headaches and that I'm scared that my migraines from years ago will return to make my life a living hell again. Or the fact that I'm almost always broke, and of course the fact that I can't find a bra in my size, et voila; what we have here? One helpless, scared, worried little lady Jac.

Trabel. Oh trabel. Of course I told my Mom about what is happening to me at work and that I was scared that my migraines were returning and she said, more or less lovingly, that I was uneducated and that's why this happened to me. She's probably right. Relationally, when I asked her why she couldn't give me, like let's say... a pep talk instead of the cold real deal, she said that she was my Mom, thus she had to tell me the truth and everything else would be misleading.

She also said that people had to deal with problems in life once they start to think that they could deal with everything by themselves and then boom boom paw: problems! That's when they would turn to God or Jah or the Universe for help. Some people turn to drugs, but I don't have money for drugs, so that's not the route I'm taking. Well well well, three holes in the ground.

My Mom's probably right and I shall take this as an opportunity to learn and become a better person even if it hurts terribly to admit to your own mistakes and the stress is causing my head to hurt like a motherfather. Like a jackhammer trying to make my head break by repeatedly reminding me that I really do have the ability to feel physical pain.

It's beyond my control and all I can do is have faith and pray and hope that I will be a better person after all of this crepes. Everything happens for a reason, Brutha. This too shall pass.

In the meantime, I will just humbly thank the great Jah for my good health, my family and friends. For the food that I have on my plate, the roof over my head, the pink electric fan I was able to purchase a few weeks ago and the ability to learn from my mistakes. Also muchos gracias for the fact that He challenges me in order for me to become one fine lady with character (someday in the far far future). I might be in a lot of trouble and experience excruciating headaches, but Brutha Bob Marley you know very well, there ain't no trouble we will have to face in this life that we cannot deal with somehow.

Seriously, I will just have to grow up and deal with all of this like a mature person would.

Ps.: I will find a fart gun and gas DTI.

My limited knowledge of the world won't help me comprehend

2010-09-19T21:31:00.000-07:00

1. Men with "Stylish Hair"

2. Flesh Colored Stockings / Underwear

3. A combination of both: Serena Williams

Dark Side Of The Lens

2010-09-18T11:06:00.000-07:00

"I was raised to embrace. Me ma always encouraged us to open our eyes and hearts to the world. Make up our own minds to experience, to be inspired. I never set out to become anything in particular. Only to live creatively and to extend my personal scope of experience for adventure, for passion. Distill all that means something to me. Same with most anyone with dreams. This is where my heart beats hardest. If I only scrape a living, at least it's a living worth scraping for. There's no future in it, but at least a present worth remembering. Waves of gratitude for everything that brought us to that point on earth at that moment in time to do something worth remembering. A photograph or a scar. I feel genuinely lucky to hand-on-heart say that I love doing what I do. And that I may never be a rich man. Or live long enough. But I'll have a day or two for my nephews, and I dig the thought of that." -Mickey Smith

It was really hard to transcribe the script of this since the keltic tongue isn't really a language I'm familiar with. I'm pretty sure that some of the stuff I "got" and put down in writing are just plain wrong and that he never said what I thought I heard him say. Nevertheless, the bits and pieces that I did hear or thought I heard, are deeply inspiring, shaking, and for corporate suits like me; a wake up call.

I can't remember the last time I did something worth remembering. It is Saturday and I can't even recall what I did last Tuesday. Although it probably had something to do with me sitting on a desk at the office accomplishing tasks that poison the core of my being and kill the dreams in me. Last Tuesday probably also involved cup noodles for lunch,Excel sheets and Facebook at my desk, and going home to sleep after work. Just like any other uneventful and forgettable day of the week.

In fact, the most earth shaking experiences I've had recently were me deciding to cut my hair short (Sunday last week) and me hyperventilating (last Monday). Neither of those two will make me grow as a person or make me awesome like Mikey Smith. However, a lot of people did express that they love my fierce new hairdo. Some even mentioned I looked like Edward Furlong. Whatever. Anyway, in my world, having a ferocious haircut compensates for lack of passion.

If I continue what I'm doing with all the cup noodles and the Excel sheets, I'll end up miserable and I'll probably get ulcer. Although, I do mix up the cup noodles flavors to make my life more colorful, though I know in my heart that it's not enough to mix flavors in order to live a colorful life. The life I'm scraping for is not a life worth scraping for. I shrink myself in order to fit into this routine I'm living.

I want scars, and stars and mental photographs. I want broken bones , shattered hopes and dread and growth. I want to be inspired when I wake up and fulfilled when I go to sleep. I want to do things worth remembering, too. And just the same, want to hand-on-heart be able say that I love doing what I do. Don't give me that desktop crap! I'm tired of cup noodles and excel sheets. Straight till mourning! See you there, everyone.

Ps.: I hope you'll join me. Don't be miserable.

PPs.: Realizing that I can't leave just yet, chocolate milk, a burrito, and more America's Next Top Model should do for now in order for me to grow as a person. Literally and figuratively.

Conversations Part 4 (aka Sit Still Like Buddha)

2010-09-15T00:22:00.000-07:00

A: I'm not happy. I want to leave.
B: Just 'sit still like Buddha' as you always say.
A: Sure, I'll sit still on a pile of shit like Buddha.

Sometimes I say wise things. Sometimes I tell the truth.

Sometimes, when the world comes crushing down, all you can do is not care

2010-09-14T21:33:00.000-07:00

Conversations Part 3 (aka The Dying Fetus)

2010-09-13T19:56:00.000-07:00

A: Oh you're looking very goth today. What's up with the getup?
B: I'm watching a concert after work.
A: Oh yeah? Who's playing?
B: Dying Fetus.

True Story.

I didn't know scary bands like that exist.

Conversations Part 2 (aka Pretty Girls)

2010-09-08T08:30:00.001-07:00

A: There's a huge difference between girls who know that they're pretty and girls who don't know that they're pretty.

B: Yeah, I'd like to think of myself as a girl who doesn't know she's pretty.

And that is why most pretty girls are dumb.

Kagawaran ng Kalakalan at Industriya

2010-09-07T23:04:00.000-07:00

Department of Trade and Industry definition. Source: Wikipedia.

The Philippines' Department of Trade and Industry (Filipino: Kagawaran ng Kalakalan at Industriya), abbreviated as DTI is the executive department of the Philippine Government tasked to expand Philippine trade and industry as the means to generate jobs and raise incomes for Filipinos.

This is what the Department of Trade and Industry office looks like

This s what their waiting area looks like

And this is what we, in either the cubicle or the waiting area, look like (less caucasian, more asian though)

This could look entirely different if either a) everybody had the gut to do what they really wish to do with their lives (i.e.: nothing) or b) if the government hadn’t monopolized the minting industry by creating the Central Bank and with it the bank system and therefore creating the monetary system we now live by and its society that is based on the accumulation of debt in order for said system to work. In addition, this system has been brought into existence in order to serve the oppressors (also known as politicians and corporate lions who, by the way, are basically the same people). And of course, lest not forget , to serve their wives who are in dire needs of nose jobs since they need to attend to their social obligations and appear in press releases whenever they hold a charity event that is supposed to raise money for the people in need (i.e. themselves). These are the people we work in corporate sweat shops for.

On a related note, thanks to me being corporate, I get to attend a lot of industry parties that offer a great selection of food and alcoholic beverages for free so as to corrupt our minds and bellies into thinking that we like our lives. The fact that most corporate offices offer free coffee for as long as supplies last (forever) helps us get through the day efficiently as well.

“Feeling extra productive today, Miss Rufener? That’d be the cocaine I added to your coffee…. You’re welcome.”

Pardon the abrupt change in topic. I’ve been drinking way too much coffee so my thoughts are not in order. Anyway, being born into this government-and-Central-Bank-controlled society that conditioned me into thinking that working in corporate offices is indeed desirable (as opposed to: predestined verdict of each of us found obedient) has put me here today, namely; the waiting area of The Department of Trade and Industry (DTI). This, an uncomfortable situation for I am in fact waiting and cannot avoid pondering life, contemplating running amok and observing the DTI representative working meticulously right in front of me.

Until the DTI representative finishes whatever it is he’s doing to evaluate my Sales Promo, I’ll be stuck here thinking.

Thinking….Why is he sitting there processing paper work like the machine that he was trained to be and why is there a girl sitting beside me waiting to have her upcoming sales promo “Get 2 Nose Jobs for the Price of 1” approved?

And why am doing what I’m doing, really? Really?

Really, Waiting Areas should be abolished in a world of hard working, tax paying, unhappy citizens.

PS.: You could at least provided us with glossy magazines that advertise 2 nose jobs that you can get for the prize of one in order to keep us occupied with more important things than thinking.

Conversations Part 1 (aka Signal Is Bad)

2010-09-07T04:11:00.000-07:00

On the phone:

A: Dude, can't you hear the happiness in my voice?
B: No. Signal might be bad.

I learned something new today

2010-09-04T11:00:00.000-07:00

Gödel's incompleteness theorems are two theorems of mathematical logic that establish inherent limitations of all but the most trivial axiomatic systems for mathematics. The theorems, proven by Kurt Gödel in 1931, are important both in mathematical logic and in the philosophy of mathematics. The two results are widely interpreted as showing that Hilbert's program to find a complete and consistent set of axioms for all of mathematics is impossible, thus giving a negative answer to Hilbert's second problem.

The first incompleteness theorem states that no consistent system of axioms whose theorems can be listed by an "effective procedure" (essentially, a computer program) is capable of proving all facts about the natural numbers. For any such system, there will always be statements about the natural numbers that are true, but that are unprovable within the system. The second incompleteness theorem shows that if such a system is also capable of proving certain basic facts about the natural numbers, then one particular arithmetic truth the system cannot prove is the consistency of the system itself.

Like dude, WTF? This is, like, sooo intense. Fo' Real?

Let me recap:

1. This dude just created a system that proved, by using logic, that you cannot possibly prove everything with logic.
2. The system cannot prove itself to be consistent because it just proved that there's no consistency. A.m.a.z.e.b.a.l.l.s.

There's something really mindfucking happening here, guys.

Amaze-B==D (that means Amazeballs).

To illustrate you how blown away I am, kindly see below Yosimite Bear. This is exactly how I reacted to Goedel's Incompleteness Theroem.

On Marriage

2010-09-03T02:10:00.000-07:00

I just realized I haven't found the font I'd like to spend the rest of my life writing with yet.
Helvetica is promiscious
Times New Roman is a smart ass
Arial is a copy cat
and Comic Sans needs to grow up

I feel so lost (in this house)

2010-09-03T01:31:00.001-07:00

If you're lost and don't know where to go; don't panic, don't rush. No need to hurry when you're headed nowhere. True story.

numb and dumb and happy

2010-09-02T19:03:00.000-07:00

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”
-Jack Kerouac

(This is Jack Kerouac with a cigarette, pondering life)

I'm afraid that reading Jack Kerouac now will turn me- once again - into this life-hungry, uncompromising being that I once was.

That would be too exhausting.

Which is why I'll stick to reading Lady Gaga lyrics.

"Cherry Cherry Boom Boom, Gaga, Eh Eh (There's nothing else I could say)"

-Lady Gaga

(This is Lady Gaga in what appears to be a bird's nest)

Wushoe or at least I look fab, kahit lonely ako

2010-08-31T23:43:00.000-07:00

They see my fabulous heels, yet refuse to acknowledge the craters of pain said heels dig into my face.

2am at the office

2010-08-31T10:46:00.000-07:00

So I was just doing my usual stuff at the office when I realized the ff:

1. I slouch. If I were male and had two computers, that'd be me. Right here. Down there:

2 . I have a double chin. Slouching doesn't help and so I need to get me one of those:

3. Or I'll end up having double chin balls.

Remember people: ergonomics matter.

Good Night! Time to go home.

Happy Birthday!

And Then It Was The Word. And The Word Was Good.

2010-08-30T20:25:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: I did not vote. Mainly 'cause I grew up in Switzerland. I know I know, it's not an excuse. But if I may, here my thoughts:

Now that we have elected our new president, it's about time to re-visit the power of money, and while we're at it; the power of its opposite/opponent, the only thing that isn't worth a penny; the word.

While reality is saying: "Money is the only ruling power", I refuse to believe that there aren't things that can be said in return in order for people to actually think otherwise.

There are still books, songs, and conversations, that are strong enough to actually make people think, feel, and act.

I.e.: Music becomes much more intimate when the lyrics speak to you. Ever felt like a song was exactly about how you feel or think? Sometimes the right words in a song can make you feel either better, happier, and if neither of the two aforementioned seem to be the case, then at least the right lyric of a song can make your sadness a little bit more elegant. Just yesterday I decided to listen to good music, and yes, Yesterday, My Trouble Seemed

So Far Away.

Being the advertising person that I am, I cannot help but be fascinated by the fact that whole consumer groups fall for or either believe in a brand because of 5 to 7 carefully chosen words that create a brand identity. Really, words, they Just Do It.

I love how a script can turn a movie into a classic and make people remember a movie that was shot decades ago. And if movies don't have that effect anymore, it's 'cause people prefer to see explosions and people getting savaged by zombies, instead of hearing characters say beautiful things. But let me halt you here: The Word Is Still Big, It's The Picture That Got Small.

Also, I find it utterly fascinating how language can be a reflection of culture and society. How jargon and lingo are more valid evidence of how people function and think, than statistics and endless surveys about us. Or as some people might say:

i FinD IT UTTeRly fAXIn2n hoW lnGuAGe~ CAn bE A~ rEFLEc2N Of~ CUl2re Nd SOCieTy P0wh.~ h0w~ JArGoN nd LiNgo~ ZAREZm0RE vAliD EvIdeNce 0f HOW~ pEople fUnc2n ND thNk, ThaN sTAtsTcZ nD eNDleSz~ SUrVEyZ aBOUtZ Us P0WH.

Whole generations have passed on words and treated them as their truth.Thou Shall Not Give False Testimony; words can be carried over for centuries.

Paradoxically, I love how the intentional (!) absence of words can be equally powerful. Silence can be just as unbearable as painful words uttered.

Words can make you laugh, you know? They can make you smile, you know? Something someone said can make your day, you know? And most importantly, simple spoken niceties, make people happy.

So let me tell you:
I love you, Word. I love you for enabling me to say things like "I Love You" to you and you and you. (You know who you are)

If you still don't want to acknowledge the importance and power of words, if you just can't admit that sometimes, the only thing you can do, is say a few words, then My Condolences to you for having lost your lack of imagination.

And if reality still says that money is the ruling power and ignorance makes it hard for us to really listen then let me just SHOUT and overpower what reality has to say! SHOUT til people don't have a choice but to pay attention. Because

I Have a Dream, in that dream, us people will listen to the words floating out there waiting to be received, processed, scrutinized, believed in, and acted upon. There are still people that have the ability to say exactly what we need to hear to listen and learn. I'm not talking about political contenders only, I'm talking about teachers, journalists, celebrities, mothers, fathers, friends, you and me. Let's just talk about what really matters for once.
I have a dream that people will base their political decisions on knowledge and values, and not on a monetary amount received. I Have a Dream, and I believe. Because we have proven that with the power of words, Yes, We Can.

Heart b r e a k

2010-08-25T01:01:00.000-07:00

This kid is seriously messed up.

I'm 22 and have never experienced real heart break. Well, not in the conventional sense anyway. Never has somebody left me and scattered my heart into pieces then decided to dance polka on them pitiful fragments of what once was.

Of course there have been "mini heart breaks"; Each time a cat of mine died for example, seemed liked the world conspired against me and just turned into living hell. When Felix died (unorignal name for a cat, I know) it took me a while to accept that he was gone and I would expect him to sneak up on me every now and then. Probably because I never got to properly say goodbye to him. Poor little thing got hit by a tractor. May you rest in one piece, you sneaky cat you.

Another mini heart break was experienced when my boyfriend suggested to break up. I fooled him into taking me back by crying like a mad woman. Whether it were actually my tears or my snot that he finally couldn't take seeing anymore and eventually made him reconsider his plans of breaking up with me shall forever be a mystery. I'd bet my arse though that the snot played a big part. In any case, he stayed. HAR HAR!

Never was I close to my grandparents nor has any other relative or friend that I was close to passed away. If you consider Heath Ledger as a close friend though, then I will have to revise that statement. Nevertheless, I can't really claim to know real pain.

Maybe seeing my parents fight breaks my heart. Watching people hurt and cheat each other makes my big chest and head hurt, and realizing that my life as a 22year old didn't turn out as glamorous as I thought it would, wasn't really the easiest to accept. Having to do laundry is bothersome to my heart, and going to the bank is what makes it drop. I know, I'm probably just misinterpreting growing up as heartbreak, but this whole growing up thing has really been slowly scratching little pieces off my heart with the world being the world and its realities being its realities. But let that be my problem. Still dealing with the coming-of-age-issue.

Again: I'm 22. The last thing I deserve is heart break. However, the fact that I never fail to cry when I watch sad movies (heartwarming or sad commercials and movie trailers too) seems to suggest that I'm not properly prepared for a real major major heart break. But then again, who is ever ready for a heart break?

If you do decide to break my heart one day (and I'm talking to all of you), please make sure that it will cause me to lose weight. If you really wanna take my heart, then take my fats with you, you bastard!

Oh what I really mean is: future heart breaks, be kind to me. My heart is a fragile little thing. Or: Don't fart in my heart.

PS.: Felix and Tiger: I really miss you two.

PPS.: Little rugrat in the video; you should get a grip of yourself. Life isn't gonna get any easier from where you are right now. Hang in there though, you'll live.

Rules:

2010-08-24T19:12:00.000-07:00

1. Bawal magtapon ng basura dito sa puso ko.
2. Bawal tumawid sa puso ko. Nakamatay.

The Wicked At Heart Know Something.

2010-08-23T19:36:00.000-07:00

Woody Allen, my love.

I'd marry him, too. (If I was his daughter.)

Epic

2010-08-12T00:28:00.001-07:00

I wonder if you ever read these random ramblings of mine.

Oh Universe, will you just accept my fears, dreams, and rantings and consider them in your plans of making my life epic? Please?

Universe:
Number of superclusters in the visible universe = 10 million
Number of galaxy groups in the visible universe = 25 billion
Number of large galaxies in the visible universe = 350 billion
Number of dwarf galaxies in the visible universe = 7 trillion
Number of stars in the visible universe = 30 billion trillion (3x10²²)

Me (Jacque):
Number of books that I want to read = 10 million
Number of places to visit = 25 billion
Number of movies to see = 350 billion
Hours of sleep I want to get = 7 trillion
Number of stars in my universe = 30 billion trillion

Special Report

2010-08-12T00:15:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 8.30am.

So I manage to drag myself to the elevator from hell that would transport me into the real world that is work and everything that comes with it. Old news. But get this: I have to deal with a tiny 4year old rugrat girl who I have to smile at lovingly just to turn to her proud mother to utter the word "cute" this time smiling -not lovingly but- awkwardly. That would be alright if the girl wouldn't attack me by coming to me and hiding behind my short legs. Probably because she doesn't want to go to work either. Who likes offices anyway?

Elevators. Trapped. Babies.

Awkwardness is what babies trigger in me. And fear.

Scary shit.

Jack and Jill

2010-08-09T20:39:00.000-07:00

He feels she is eating him
by her demand to be eaten by him

Two people who originally
wished to devour and be devoured
are devouring and being devoured

She is devoured, by him being devoured
She is being devoured
by her desire to be devoured

His dread of being devoured
arises from his dread of being devoured by his devouring
Her desire to be devoured
arises from her dread of her desire to devour

Jill: You put me in the wrong
Jack: I am not putting you in the wrong
Jill: You put me in the wrong for thinking you put me in the wrong

Jack: Forgive me
Jill: No
Jack: I'll never forgive you for not forgiving me.

-From Knots by R.D. Laing

Ever wondered when and why relationships turn sour?

On Social Change

2010-05-22T07:19:00.000-07:00

Hello,

I'd like to invite you to reflect on Social Change. You have two options as inspiration to ponder upon.

Option 1:

Fall asleep while studying Figure 1, only to wake up to be completely uninspired,

Option 2:

Or you just listen to somebody who has something smart to say:

"Governments are really great at getting together and holding meetings and conferences, but they never ever seem to accomplish anything. Never ever depend upon governments or institutions to solve any major problem, all social change comes from the passion of individuals" -From "The Cove". A documentary about dolphin slaughtering.

Ps.: I am not, and I repeat, NOT dismissing Figure 1 as bogus, it is actually quite true. I'm just saying, it bores the hell out of me.

Away We Go

2010-05-21T22:32:00.000-07:00

When Big Questions Produce Small Answers

2010-05-10T03:50:00.000-07:00

"But as we grow and experience things our minds grow, our questioning grows, our ideas get bigger and broader, and the purpose of our lives become clearer. Life and love is far more important" -Kelly Slater

I'm not sure if my mind has been growing, my questioning has grown bigger and broader or if the purpose of my life has become clearer. All I know is that the answers and ideas corresponding to these questions have grown significantly smaller in terms of intellectual weight and complexity.

While I used to think about my existence almost 24/7, and tried to figure out what purpose was there to fulfill; while I pondered on the big "where to goes", "who to bes", and "what to does", I only ask myself one question now: How do I stay simple and happy.

No more youthful rebellion, no more skeptical probing of religion, or cynical debate on the pursuit of happiness. Only peace, faith, and calm.

I just kind of stopped thinking about the big questions. Or maybe I just realized that these big questions don't beg for big answers. Maybe it's just all about the small things that make you happy. Good food or good music for example.

Some could say, it's retrograde when the pondering diminishes. Call me shallow or simple-minded, but having finally arrived at small answers to the big questions, I'm happy now.