Write, write, write

No matter how many things I need to do (not only now but also in the near future) with the little time I have and will end up having, I always end up telling myself that 'I wanna do this, oh, this is interesting as well, I wanna do this too!' Yeah, a few more hours in the interwebs today and I came across two really interesting things, that I may just dip my toes in. Uh-huh.

First up, litreactor.com has its science fiction writing challenge known as Teleport Us. This follows the success of their previous challenge on horror writing last year. It's open to both amateurs and professionals, and anywhere from 1,500 to 4,000 words will get you in, as long as you adhere to three guidelines: explore a utopian/dystopian theme, feature a technology that's scientifically plausible and feature a non-human character. It's good to be starting now as submissions will end the 28th of February. There. That should provide me impetus to finally make good on all my resolutions to write years ago. Hmm... Esep esep...

Second, I didn't think there were many offshoots of the NaNoWriMo. I came across the NaBloPoMo and then later on ScriptFrenzy which occurs in April. Now, it seems there's LetterMo and it's for February. What's this about? You write anything - a letter, a postcard, send a picture, swatch of cloth, pages of magazines or newspapers, or write back to someone who wrote to you - every day of February and send them through the postal system.  I'm a sucker for the ways of the old, and there's nothing like seeing a surprise brought by the postman from a faraway or even nearby place in the world. I'm sure it'll be a worthwhile exercise in creativity. Now, if I can sustain this I still have to see. Although I have this twisted hope that I can. :)

So yeah, this is good, putting writing at the forefront of my activities to finally do/accomplish this 2013. My sister, who's currently taking up Medicine, and I have had this idea that's been sitting on the back burner for a while now of a graphic novel/illustrated book collaboration. We initially had an idea to make a children's book. And then all our fascination with Philippine myth (sparked by the Trese and Skyworld series) gave us the idea to make an alternative mythology graphic novel, similar to Paolo Chikiamco's Alternative Alamat issue over at Rocketkapre.com. We still have no idea which story to do up to this day, but hopefully all this writing (on my side) and creativity will spur us to make time and finally do it.

So, there's nothing more to say but Fight!

Christmas this time around

there aren't many images of tropical Christmas love so here

Christmas was pleasanter this time around. Even if it wasn't the same magical thing I've come to expect, a hangover from childhood as most everyone can attest to, in some respects it was more meaningful as I came to expect goodness and time spent with people who matter to you. It wasn't much about the material things. They were just secondary to showing how much you care for your loved ones. It was the first time I've felt this way. Must be some people's penchant for giving gifts rubbing off on me. It's kinda my first time to deliberately think about what to give not just for one or two people. In the beginning, thinking about what to give kinda paralyzed me. Well, once I was at the department store and shopping with a friend, somehow the choice became a bit easier. Indeed, it was fun wrapping them up later that night, discovering ways on how to give those department store wrapping personnel a run for the money. I also managed to watch both Gegen die Wand and Solino, which would be the basis for part of our group report report for my German class. They were very well made.

It was a really good time for me, making the most of wrapping up presents and watching well-developed stories. One about trying to break away from the conservative ways of family while trying to maintain the status quo with the housemate/husband she's come to start loving and how that same love has also changed the ways of a womanizing, troublemaking drunkard who, after his time in prison is now a reformed man. It's their chance to be what they once were, now that they are mature. The other one is about a smart Italian boy who grows up in Germany amidst the family's restaurant boom. He's influenced by a filmmaker who uses their restaurant as a location, and teaches him on some basic but fundamental things. His chance for a breakthrough comes but his Mom is finally diagnosed and, after finding out her husband has been cheating on her, goes back to their old village Solino and he has no choice but to go with her. His jealous older brother then steals the chance he made for himself along with his girlfriend. It is many years later when he's got kids and is about to marry that they reconcile. However, still no hope for the father who chose to stick with his pride.

Might I point out that things were also made the more pleasanter (now that I've started this whole compare/contrast thing) because I've fully healed from whatever heartbreak I was suffering from the past year. Indeed, I was even about to cry before Noche Buena last year. Since none of those thoughts or scenes repeated themselves this year, then I can safely say that that guy did have more than an effect on me (more than healthy in fact) than I would sometimes claim. That's not to say I'm entirely immune to whatever it was that had me going for him for some time. I can't help but be ambivalent about his actions and behavior in the office given that he's not the most popular person there right now. My whole team, even my TL, don't really hold him in good regard. Same goes with some, most(?) other employees... It's like this is him and the very few who stand by him on one side, and the rest of the office is on the other side. It's that bad. And where am I? Right there in the middle. Oh, if only he could be understood and he could understand better as well. All it takes is a little consideration, methinks.

Anyway, when he went to our part of the floor earlier last night to offer the VTO and I was then standing around since I was on offline, he still managed to acknowledge me. Not that I was expecting otherwise. But he also managed to blurt out a 'happy new year' and then looking at the list he was holding, much to the amusement (?) of one of my teammates who heard him. Dare I say that somehow warmed me? That in spite of all the tension and bad blood between my team and him (my teammates jeer on him and cheer on the failures his team is experiencing), he's still recognizing our connection, dare I say it, to even greet me, in front of them. I just want to make clear that there's nothing on my end anymore. It's just the after effects of the before. And this kind of attention from someone you craved attention from before is not so unwelcome, even if there should be no kind of expectation on my part anymore. It's more like a childhood crush that won't go away, moreso because of all the good feelings that person engenders. Really. And my girlfriends have concluded that it does take a certain type of guy to have that effect on you, sometimes no matter what they did or didn't do. Mine's not exactly your usual goodlooking guy, mind you. And until someone, with a stronger effect who can make you forget about all that, comes along, you'll be stuck in this same limbo for sometime. Well, that's it. I'm just airing out my feelings for one part of this whole nasty thing that's been going on for a while, long before I even had this week-long vacation from work, and with no one to share this to... There's the excuse right there in this Christmas-related post.

something about sleep

                               
It's really different when I go back home. For one, it was my first time to once again spend an entire week there. For most of the past nine years, I've been living here in QC, going home to Dagupan only during sembreaks, and then when I was working, when there were holidays. This time around, with the holidays falling on a Monday and a Tuesday, it was more economical to just take a whole week leave, instead of going home starting on Friday, coming back on Wednesday to work and then leave again on Friday for the next round of festivities. That, and the idea that I really needed to rest after that school-work combo (with an 8:30 am class routine) I've been doing for some weeks now. And so I got to spend both Christmas and New Year's Eve at home, unlike recent years.

There must be something about home and the habits and consciousness I've formed living there for most of my first 17 years. I didn't think I'd slip so easily into having an almost normal sleep pattern, i.e. sleeping at night, latest at midnight and then waking up, no matter what, the next day at 7. I guess it was the length of time I was staying that brought me back to that previous state. It wasn't like that when I'd go home before for just 2 or 3 days. This after being used to waking up at 10 am onwards for two years now. Surprising. There was even a day when I slept at 4 am because I slept the afternoon before. But since it was Sunday, I still woke up at 7 am that morning. Then we went to church, baked cookies after lunch, tried out a recipe for mojos (which turned into potato chips) and then had my hair dyed by my sister. Was I running on adrenaline then? Maybe. Still slept at midnight that night and still woke up at 7 the next day.

surfing with Surfista Travels

My mind is still a blur. So many things I want to talk about. But for now (thank goodness!) it's kinda settled on last weekend's events.

Finally got back into the water I was. And if coming up with 10 sentences about the supposed life of Ronnie 'Poks' Esquivel, the one-legged surf wonder of La Union using the clause connectors wenn, als and weil for my German assignment - cracking up those sentences while waiting in line for my ride and onboard the FX and the jeep to school two days after - and shoving up beautiful surf photos along with the sunset as my ideal bedroom view - coming up with as much respect for the beauty and that kind of life as my basic Italian could muster (yes m'dears, I cram a lot, unfortunately) - doesn't count as BEING STOKED, I don't know what is. Of course that would not be the entirety of it. I'd rather be riding waves until I could no longer stand up if only a beach was just in my backyard. No, what a weekend of surfing and being with people who love the beach and the surf did was inspire me to look up more stuff about it. And that's when I found some tributes to and a video of Poks. I've never known him nor seen him, but somehow, his zest for going on inspires you. It's just sad that he had to die so early. He's just two years older than me in fact. So all that exposure had to translate to something. Rather than make 10 sentences with different topics, I challenged myself by making all those 10 sentences tell a story about him. I managed. I hope my professor liked it, or at least appreciated the effort I put into it.

This was my fourth surfing trip and my second time in La Union. It seems there's a trend. First in Baler in January, then February in La Union, then back to Baler in May and finally November in La Union. If I could, I could've gone with the next trip to Baler. The next trip will probably have to be next year though, January I hope.

I was lucky to get a last minute slot to this La Union edition of Surfista Travels. I thought I won't be surfing this year for sure. Thank you to that person who gave up his/her slot. You made my weekend!

On email and on text, I can feel the warmth flowing from Surfista Travels owner and coordinator Elaine Abonal. I was actually amazed to find out that she only started Surfista Travels January this year. When we were in La Union in February, I saw an ad of Surfista in San Juan Resort's Surf Shop and I thought it's been existing for years. In fact, it has only been less than a month that she started operating. Amazing.

Elaine checking to see how we were doing  before our first surf lesson

After everyone's sleepiness had worn off and we've had time to warm up to each other a bit via a McDonald's breakfast and a memory game (great way to remember each of our companions!), we're ready to start our lessons. First surprise: sunscreens from VMV Hypoallergenics and rashguards from Hurley. Of course, I knew there'd be these freebies, but it's still exciting to actually receive them. Sehr kühl! Only the rashguards were just for our temporary use but hey, I finally got to wear a rashguard that had a great fit *big grin*.

Hurley rashguards and VMV's Armada

We checked out our rooms and the ladies' Family room was huge. It could house up to 12 people but there were only five of us. It was airconditioned and had two bathrooms as well. There was a TV set, but we didn't have time to check out what it had to offer. Who would, right, when you're in La Union and there are lots of interesting companions and the beach to occupy your attentions? And we had a terrace! It's really nice.

So surf's up. The waves were a bit small and CALM. That's fine by me. I'm having trouble with big waves. In fact, my first few tries on the board, I still couldn't manage to stand up. My instructor Michelle was still so very patient. And in between waves, we talked about life and surfing. She's my first female instructor. Luke finally (woke up?) came out and he was taking pictures of us. When I finally got to stand up, I almost ran into him on my board. Maybe that's why my first photo standing up in a board had that angle haha. He was also gracious enough to give me more pointers, like remembering to slide my left foot more forward, right where my arms were lying  (I'm regular-footed) and bending my knees for better balance. I didn't think I'd have this chance to talk to him, moreso him giving me pointers. It's so nice of him.

I had a number of rides then, one of them with me going all the way to the shore. There were also times when the board was turning and I couldn't control it. Hmm. The last time I did that in February, I was pretty conscious of my body doing it. This time, it was just the waves. It was still sweet being able to ride again. How I missed that feeling. Then the hour was up and before lunch, we've had an opportunity to take pictures with Luke himself.

We've had time to get to know each other, and enjoy the beach some, before our second afternoon session. First, we've got a theory lesson. Oh yeah, it's only with Surfista Travels that you can have these. Now I have a bit of an idea on what to call those waves and those breaks. Plus some surfing etiquette (I know Carla, sorry na sa drop in *smiles*) and more safety tips it wouldn't hurt to remember. And lotsa stickers! Thank you sponsors :)

stickers for Surfistas!

Unfortunately, Michelle was still teaching another student so I got Ronnie instead. First off, we jogged with Elaine leading us. 'Twas good, needed it to get the blood flowing. Then Luke himself led us in stretching. Then he told us to paddle out to where he was. This is it. Time to strain those arm muscles. The last time I paddled so hard was in May where all we did was paddle (no joke, little to no waves that time). Then when we  were all gathered, he told us to sit, then turn our boards around back to the shore (which I also did a lot of in May, haha) but it seems I still haven't gotten the hang of it. Then he told us to race to the shore or our instructors, whichever came first. Unfortunately for Miawesome and I, we were having trouble getting our boards forward so Luke kindly gave us a push to get us on our way. Now with regular instructors, you don't normally get these kinds of insights if you were a beginner. Surfista Travels is unique like this. You get a taste of the different aspects of surfing.

Ronnie was very helpful with my stance and my standing up (still can't pop up as Luke suggested) and still managed to ride a number of waves. Also found out what Hang Ten entails. Turns out there's even a Hang Five move. Wonder when I'll be able to do them too. Our hour ended soon enough, but not before I twisted something in my butt whereby I had to stretch and/or let it rest a bit, and then we had a chance to witness a magnificent sunset. I've never had many experiences seeing the sun go down, and this I think, is the biggest I've seen so far. Unfortunately, I didn't get to take a picture of it. It's really, really lovely. That's why sunsets in La Union are so special.

Elaine then shared to us what the folks at La Union used to do every Fridays. Everyone would be at the beach picking up trash. To give back for letting us experience surfing in San Juan, we did a cleanup as well. I know there are a lot of smokers but I was very surprised to find that most of the things I was picking up were cigarette butts, not plastics. Everyone oughta be more responsible, that includes the smokers. Put 'em away where they ought to be, that's in the trash bins. Loving the beach doesn't equate to leaving your trash lying around. Everyone should know better.

butts on the beach: these we picked up from just a square meter of sand o.O
photo from Surfista  Travels

We tried out a place across the road for dinner. Urbiztondo Grill was the name if my memory serves me correctly. It's a pretty big place and they've got a wide selection of items, although don't expect everything to be available. I was looking forward to inihaw na talong at maalat na itlog for dinner but sadly, the eggs were not available so I just went with laing. It was a pretty big serving of laing though so it would be good for sharing. We also had buko water, straight from the coconut itself. Then we gathered around for some games and kwentuhan afterward. We had a killer game introduced to us by cool Ghoul, unlike the killer game I knew where the killer had to blink at the person he wanted to kill. This time, there was a moderator and everytime someone was killed off, everyone would vote who they thought the killer was. It's a race to nail the killer or else everyone among the civilians dies. It was surprising to find out who the killers actually were, or who would single myself out as the killer. And I kind of had a hurrah moment when my hunch that Ghoul was the killer was correct. It was surprising to find out that Bam6 had this naughty (Vice Ganda-like) streak in him once he's a bit inebriated. Asha also had her physics notes with her for an upcoming exam, so I was equal ways disappointed and satisfied that I no longer remember/still remember some of the concepts. Ha, physics was so four years ago.

I awoke the next morning to hurting arms and thighs. And true enough to what everyone was saying the day before, indeed the wind has picked up and waves abound. In fact, a number of surfers were already lined up at the Point, where Elaine says the waves are very nice and which she sadly couldn't ride due to an ear infection (thus, I am reiterated with the fact that it's not so healthy to clean one's ears so often). There were also a lot of people on the beach, and probably a lot more students that we had to go in by batches because there weren't enough instructors to go around. Since a longboard (longer than the soft tops I used the previous day) was available, I decided to go with it, given the turbulence of the waves. I haven't had much success with this type of board (thus, my resolution to lose weight. Alas, pre-LU, I haven't had any chance to do so and so...) I'm not sure if it's just my weight or just getting the balance right - muscle memory and all that's needed to get me to stand up on it - but I realized later that I may have had better chance riding the waves had I chosen to go with the shorter soft top. Anyhow with Exson determined to make me ride, I persevered. Indeed, I had a hard time. Others around me were able to ride. Me needs a lot more practice. I finally managed one but it was a bit short-lived. Still, it was decent given the waves we were working with. Battered a lot we were. Ribs will definitely hurt the next day. It's part of the surfing experience after all. Then the hour was up. Oh! I couldn't bear not taking advantage of the situation. After all, I'm not sure when I'll be able to go back to the water. So I asked if we still had time. And I went in for another hour of surf lessons. The waves were bigger than ever. I've had many close shaves with the board, one of which was me feeling my leash graze my neck. I'm glad it didn't wrap itself around my neck and tumble me hard with the board. Probably lost my senses there as Exson told me I fell in front of the board. Not safe. First time that happened as well. And I was reciting mantras. That I'll ride a wave. And I was SURPRISED that I indeed rode the one that came immediately after I started reciting it. I was so amazed at the universe conspiring to let me achieve what I wanted to do. I waited for the whitewater to recede, hauled myself up, put my feet on the board and voila! I was riding. I was just amazed at the power of words. Unfortunately and surprisingly, the water hollowed out someways and I lost my balance. And that was my last ride for that day. Succeeding mantras hadn't worked. Eventually, my body succumbed to tiredness and I couldn't even haul myself up. At least I know I can actually ride a true board. I'm grateful that my instructor was patient and encouraging.

We had lunch and I was able to talk to the others and get to know them more. Found out about Nomad Manager Jen who is spearheading a site for Filipino cultural creatives promoting mindful living at Muni.ph. Then there's Xavier who's a freelance photographer and who collects film cameras. Completing the ten are Lea, Asha's older sister and also a returning Surfista, Roma who's an Elaine and Luke superfan (she got the merch before even joining any trip ^_^) and Mia and Lawin (both first timers). Hans was also there who after living in Surigao only got to experience surfing recently with Surfista Travels.

We received our certificates and after a few more pictures with Luke, Marj and Roger (*wink wink*), we finally got on our way back to Manila. But not before stopping by another McDo site in San Fernando for the traditional Surfista sundae.

That was a weekend full of great fun and stoke. Cheers to more STOKE in the new year!

ein Gedicht für dich

just because... Mesut in a Nutella ad,
if I'm not mistaken 

Waiting for the laundry to finish - and there it is, the beep before the last round. So I should be able to get to bed soon. (Lucky me, my VTO request was granted very early. Incessant coughing since last night and I dunno, weakened defenses maybe, have handed a very painful throat to me, which won't do at all in my line of work. Plus, the coughing. It's been a long time since I last got afflicted with one, and when I do, it usually only goes away months after I've contracted it. Bummer.)

Anyway, as I was saying before the very long digression, me has time. And an excess of some more daydreaming and word geekery. So I'm posting what was today's German assignment which was supposed to be about time. My classmate didn't say anything of the sort though, but with a wee bit stretching of the imagination, one can find it as still incorporating time. I've intended for it to be longer but the limit was only up to 12 lines. But yeah, I might one day strive to complete this. Inspired by recent events, its grammar is not topnotch, nor is the content. One can easily find shadows of the message in past posts. But anyway, this is me, the shamelessness sometimes outweighing good judgment. lol. This is my blog anyway. So if I want hell to break loose on here, then it shall.

And so, without further ado...

Heute nach einer sehr langen Weile
   hast du mich wieder beachtet.
Dein Lächeln hat Fröhlichkeit
   an meinem Miene beigebracht.
Deine Aufmerksamkeit erlaubte mich zu denken,
   dass es eine Hoffnung gibt
Für mich, für dich, für uns.
Bis ich finde jemanden neuen
   fortsetze ich zu traumen
Was war, was ist und was werde. 

*still having a hard time grasping German, but still I strive...

tales of the vending machine

coffee-scented stamp from Brazil /
photo from https://www.facebook.com/Nescafe

There was a girl who, when she discovered the 14-peso Cafe Mocha by the office's Nescafe Vending Machine, took to it like Bethany Hamilton to surfing or men to big boobs, sugar level at two (maximum is five). She loved to pair it with some discounted Triple Choco Boom from Country Style, available at the office building's ground floor two hours before closing. That was chocolate heaven, and the almost bitter, not-so-sweet Cafe Mocha complemented it well. There would be times when she needed some heat (the office AC was too cold) or some wake-me-up (she hadn't had enough sleep). Times like these, she was headed to the chill lounge at the other side of the office floor to have her brief fill of that delicious, hot, brown liquid. Then she'll be set for the rest of the shift.

There was a time when said girl had no coins with her, unable to foresee that she may need said delicious, hot, brown liquid before her lunch break. The machine was picky with the P20 bills (should be the old edition and then a bit worn), and well, she simply had none on her that time. So she borrowed coins from the teammate sitting beside her. Then when she finally got her money, decided to pay her. Said teammate refused; said she'll just get it when time came that she needed the money. So pocket the money the girl did.

Some days after, she was psyched up to drink a cup of said delicious, hot, brown liquid when teammate piped up, I need my money now. Of course, she had no choice but to fork over those coins - the only coins she had on her to be able to drink drink that brew at her upcoming break. So move the coffee drinking time she did to her lunch break.

Lunch break came and she was finally able to drink said sought-after brew after a trip back to her locker two floors up. While still savoring the rest of her free unpaid time, Kras Nummer drei came in and went straight to said vendo machine, by which she was seated. Said Kras inserted his P20 bill, machine promptly ate it up and coughed it out immediately. He looked to her and asked whether she had change. As it turns out, after buying various stuff for her lunch she did have. It was P1 shy of what he had though, but he said it was okay. So exchange money they did. And he got his brew, thanked her and went on his way back to the floor.

A few moments later, Kras Nummer eins came sauntering in. There were a few people by the vendo, still awaiting their own brew. Girl was looking straight ahead at the glass window to the scene in front of her, though they were only buildings. Kras Nummer eins, in his striped polo and semi-slacks, hadn't recognized her yet as her back was to him, but when he looked at the window as well, made eye contact with her and waved at her reflection; she waved back. No words exchanged. People finally vacated the vendo machine and he inserted his P20 bill, which machine promptly spat back out. It's not recorded who spoke first, but they exchanged comments about the vendo machine's caprice. She mentioned that the new edition bills weren't usually accepted; he said it usually has to be crumpled a bit first, with a bit of boasting in his part. So crumple his bill he did, to no avail. She remembered she still had another bill in her pocket, not the one Kras Nummer drei exchanged with her, and gave it to Kras Nummer eins. He apologized for the crumpled bill, took hers, and successfully had his brew. Flirting she was not, but enjoy the exchange she did, loudly replying to his thanks as he exited the lounge, while others she did not know were still inside the room.

And thus it was that the first vendo machine incident gave rise to this encounter with Kras Nummern eins und drei und sie war sehr glückich. Kras Nummer zwei she hadn't encountered at said vendo before. But she'll be fine with just having more encounters with Nummer eins at said vendo.


Note: originally started/thought about writing this am der 18. Oktober 2012.

beautiful Malèna's plight

Since my friend wasn't replying about the exact address of where we were supposed to go earlier this afternoon (net was down so I couldn't check), I had an impromptu movie day. Been watching Italian films lately. This time, I plopped down to Malèna. I first watched this film during my freshman year nine years ago at the then UP Film Center. It was unlike anything I've ever mostly seen at that time. Sure, I had the occasional trips to Video City, but then they consisted mostly of - aside from the mainstream ones - mostly Chinese films, classics, the critically-acclaimed ones which don't really sell in the box office, and an occasional wayward one like Thailand's The Beautiful Boxer. I'm not sure when my sensibilities for non-mainstream, critically-acclaimed foreign language films began, but it was probably around the time I saw this, and some other films in that same all-ratings-allowed cinema.

I had the impression then that this film had a high attendance especially among the hormonal male population of UP because of the high probability of seeing nudity and/or sex, like Y Tu Mamá También, the mention of which is almost often accompanied by a sort of dismissive 'yeah-it's-all-that' tone, or so I imagine. So watch I did, and indeed, it's true there was nothing that the UP Film Center wouldn't show, as my later viewing of Y Tu Mamá También proved (most graphic film I ever saw there). The newness of it all may have not left very distinct impressions on me. I never fully understood it then, except that here was a widow who was fancied by all, as well as this boy who was in love with her and kept tabs on her, until she finally became the whore everyone was proclaiming her to be at the beginning, and then they finally turned on her as a whore and traitor for playing with the German colonizers.

Now, I understand and empathize with Malèna Scordia better. Her beauty and body are legendary, as evidenced by the scores of men and women who would watch her as she walked the streets on one of her sojourns to her Dad's abode. She dressed differently, more beautifully than all the other women. The first time she was shown walking to her Dad's place, I marveled at the distance she covered, the fact that she's in heels and that she broke not one sweat. Talk about almost perfect haha. Do they not sweat in Italy when they walk through their coastal abodes, through the city, in the dress norm of years ago of full length dress or blouse and skirt, stockings and heels?

Her story is told through the eyes of Renato, who was finding out about her and becoming his own man as he grew up under Mussolini, and then later on, the German occupation of Italy, and their little island of Sicily. Unlike everyone who sees her as just some ass to fuck, Renato, despite his fantasies about her, feels genuinely for her - her loneliness, how the townspeople say bad things about her, everyone who used her body when she realized it was one of the tools she had to survive, her eventual departure after she was publicly tortured and defamed. It did not help Malèna's case that she was not from there, and not nine months after she was married, her husband had to be called away for the war. Then news of her husband's death came, and here she was a young widow, available for anyone who came calling. The talks about her became nastier and nastier as everyone's husband, boyfriend, father and son were entranced by her. Less than honorable men took advantage of her, one at a time. Then a change of government came, and she jumped into pleasuring men wholeheartedly. There was another local whore of course and less beautiful, but it was only Malèna who, when Sicily was liberated, bore the ire of the townswomen as they dragged her to the plaza by her hair, kicked, punched and stomped on her. Clothes ripped and bloodied, that was the only time she ever showed any emotion to the general public. Then she left her house and was never seen again, until her husband, who actually only lost one arm and was not dead, came back. It was the anonymously watching Renato who told Signor Scordia about everything that happened since he left. And one day, everyone was surprised by Signor and Signora Scordia walking together arm in arm back to their home. Later, the very same women who initiated the public defamation of Malèna were the first ones to greet her in the market, testing her.

Renato watching her as she makes this change in her life

Her plight is a very sad one. Only Renato knew how much she loved and longed for her husband while she was away. And because she was not from their town, she had no friends. Her beauty was the cause of much envy, and stories evolved into something malignant, that she had to face court, only to be betrayed by someone whom she thought reciprocated her feelings as well. She was having a hard time getting even food since it was wartime, and so had to resort to using her body. It saddens me that men and women see the woman's body as something to use for pleasure. If she was beautiful and her husband was away, for sure she's getting it on with some man. Oh, she only had to look and she'd seduce one's husband. During her father's funeral, the men lined up to express their condolence while taking the chance to touch her. Nobody had a clue to her thoughts and feelings. Weighed down by convention and the restrictions of that period, she couldn't make a living for herself, relying instead on her pension, which was eventually cut off. And then, that's when she accepted what she had to do to live.

It reminded me a bit about Easy A someways into the film. Both had heroines who were ostracized because of the illusion of their being sex symbols, and the stories that defined and destroyed their lives. Malèna had to conform to the traditional image so that she would be accepted by the community. It was only when she walked arm in arm with her husband did the townspeople form a different opinion of her. In the market later on, it was only then that someone, the very same person who hurt her, greeted her in public. When she responded, it seemed she passed a test. The vendors then started talking to her, offering their cheaper produce, one even giving her a coat she was looking at for free.

I'm glad I didn't have to live during those times. The vicious nature of women, the lack of open-mindedness, the need to know and gossip about everyone in your community - it would be so horrible once you're the object and you have no one to turn to. Even though Renato started following her as part of his fantasies, his resourcefulness to see more of her allowed him a glimpse into a private life no one knew, which shaped much of his sensibilities as he changed from a boy to a young man, though not without exasperating his parents, especially his dad.

I did feel strongly for Bellucci's character. Even though beauty can get you somehwere, it still is only skin-deep and can lead to one's downfall. I'm glad her husband still wanted her back after everything that happened.

missing Fußball and surf

Sem's just started and I have once again proclaimed that I play Fußball in my classes, when in reality, I hardly do. But I've psyched myself to get back to it sometime before this sem started. Like I did when last sem also started, wherein I managed to put in a couple of appearances at trainings, before disappearing forever. Since I keep on saying it, and still finding time to sometimes look up related news, local or foreign, before disappearing from the loop again, that would mean I actually really like the thing. And I do. It's just that with everything that's happening, it seems better to rest your mind and body at times, rather than push them all through the weekend, up until the next workday comes around.

So I've this renewed zest. I hope I can keep this up. I've had two long weekends because of leaves approved which I had filed before to do something I've missed. Well, nothing became of my original plan. And I haven't been near the water since then. Tsk. Why did I think I should be working on November 1st, eh? I should've filed a leave for it as well and join the surf and music fest up north. I should really move near the beach. And have abs like this girl who was photographed surfing San Juan.

photo from https://www.facebook.com/surfing.sanjuan

So now, I'm craving for all that water and whatnot. Hay...

Stupid, procrastinating me. :(

another weird dream

Dreamt that I was in Batangas, where I had days ago planned to be on the invitation of a friend, who however, was not in the dream, but his girlfriend and my friend was. Dreamt that my teammates in the office were with me and it's another teambuilding we're on. Dreamt that I was in another production style floor, a la my first FT related job. Dreamt about two former, or shall we say, semi-current crushes. Weird, the associations! Indeed, that's how my dreams are ever since I've started remembering them.

thoughts from the bedlam

So this is how it feels like to not have to set your phone's alarm clock, to hopefully wake up to, some four hours after you've lain down; to not have to absorb all those information, exercising your brain cells to comprehend the logic and rules of the thing three hours a day four days a week; to reread Dune leisurely without a care of what else you're supposed to be doing (except maybe answering all those letters and postcards) and be truly excited that you're finally reading again, this time for pure pleasure...

You have all these unbidden thoughts swirling in your head and one just leads right to the other...

One day, you're reveling in the fact that it was Stiles's Katarina Stratford character in one of your favorite movies that got you into this whole non-conformist semi-feminist mode you've been in since, well, probably the first time you saw that movie and that love is a bad boy but sweet character, and a non-conformist like you, a la Heath's Pat Verona, who will break your heart at first, but who will eventually find the error of his ways because, well, he realizes he does love you and that his world won't be right without you.

And no matter how much of a non-conformist and an independent gal you think you are, do you think the world sees just how shallow or deep you've gone? For that matter, does the world really care? What have you really done to further that aspect of yourself? You're proud of that self-proclaimed label, but is that how others really perceive you? You claim to know a lot of things, but really, all the things you know just skim the surface of the topic... shallow, isn't it?

You say you want to do this, you want to be that... but have you done anything to be one step closer to achieving those? It's been years since you've determined to set out for those things. Isn't it high time that you're seeing results now?

You've prided yourself all this time about how much information your brain has accumulated and could retrieve at any point in time, excelling in general information in quiz bee categories back in elementary. It's true: knowledge is power. However, have you done anything to capitalize on all that knowledge? Even now, when you know what things you like to focus on and how you seem to understand the inner workings of and the external influences that affect certain stuff, have you ever had any impetus to put all those to good use for your development as a person, or even as a careerwoman? Well, impetus, yes; follow up actions, no.

It's seemed that you've just been content to ride the tides, doing as little as possible to stay afloat but still exist a bit comfortably compared to many. Too comfortable in fact that, even though reality shows you that brains and some personality alone don't get a guy, but all the efforts you muster for your appearance and equal amounts wiliness, you remain resolute and somehow content to let this moment in time pass by.

Despite knowing all this, still you remain, non-girlfriend material girl (yes, you've finally realized and admitted it), a bit oblivious, a bit naive, a bit idealistic, a bit unchanging, and a bit hopeful, all in almost equal measure.