Sunday, October 31, 2004

Mercedez-Benz/LA Fashion Week

On Friday night, Camisha and I volunteered for the LA Fashion Week. I worked as an usher for the Louis Verdad show and she was a dresser for another. It wasn't particularly memorable, with the exception of a few things.

Things I took home with me:

  1. The volunteer shirt and badge.
  2. Flaunt magazine.
  3. 2 small cans of Evian Skin Care Atomizer, aka Expensive Water In A Spray Can.
  4. The first-hand knowledge that Randy Jackson's head is really, really round; Andrew Keegan looks exactly the same on screen and in magazines, as he does in person; and models are mass produced in a genetics factory from the DNA of someone who is really tall, really skinny, really flat-chested, and can strut poutily down a catwalk.

Things I didn't take home with me because they were stolen:

  1. My credit card.
  2. $14 cash.
  3. A tampon, face wipes, and the pouch which contains both items.

Okay, the credit card and cash, I get. But I still can't understand why, of all things to take from my purse, the thief actually thought to do away with my tampon and de-greasers. That just narrows down our choices of culprit. Obviously, we're looking for an oily-skinned girl who is on her period.

Commercial break.

I was fooling around J.K Rowling's website and found (not without help) easter eggs containing a few chapter titles for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince:

Chapter 2 - Spinners End

Chapter 6 - Draco's Detour

Chapter 14 - Felix Felicis

I don't know about you, but this info just makes me want to pee with anticipation. Hopefully, it won't be long now until the book comes out. I'm pretty darned curious about chapter 6, as it sounds really interesting. I'm crossing my fingers now though that the chapter would offer us a glimpse of Malfoy's life beyond the cowardly bully we so know and despise, something to show that he has a heart (no matter how black) and a personality separate from the stereotypes associated with Slytherin. I definitely do not want him redeemed, though. That's just way to cheesy. Ugh.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

For my World Cinema class today, we had to watch 8 1/2 by Fellini.

My thoughts: It's a film about a movie director whose whole life has fallen apart. His relationship with his wife is rocky, he has a director's version of writer's block (director's block?), he is surrounded by pushy people. The movie has a lot of dream sequences, some of which are ways for him to remember the good times, others what he wishes would happen. As a director, he is used to bossing people around, but seeing as he isn't able to do that anymore, he just dreams of it. The first scene (he's in a smoking car, trying to get out; people around him watch; he gets out, tries to fly away; someone's attached a rope to his ankle to pull him down) is a literal take on his situation. Because he has no other ideas, he BS-es a movie with a rocketship, which he can't back out of anymore, because his producer has build a giant scaffolding where the rocketship scenes will be filmed. He kills himself in the end, and the last scene of the movie shows him and everyone in his life parading around the scaffolding to his direction, finally getting his way.

See? Simple and straightforward, pretty much.

Points brought up in class discussion by over-thinking classmates*:
  • The mirrors that feature heavily in the movie represent the fact that the movie is a movie about the real director's making of this movie. Wtf?
  • The giant scaffolding symbolizes the Tower of Babel (Babylon? I'm not sure. It's been a while since I last read the bible).
  • The movie presents subjective reality. It's hard to tell whether what is happening is real or not because there is fluid transition between fantasy and reality. And that is why the reality in the movie is subjective. Again, wtf?
  • Some stupid thing about causality.
  • The movie parallels Dante's Inferno, and the scene in the sauna at the health spa is hell. Huh?
  • Early on in the movie, when the main character goes in the bathroom and turns on the light, a dim light comes on. Five seconds later, the whole place lights up. Some dude in class: that's the director's way of making his presence as the director known. He wants the audience to be aware that they're watching a movie and not reality. Professor: it's just a light; flourescent lights do that sometimes.
All these pretensions were met by a "that's stupid" by the professor. I just scoffed and laughed. At times like these, I'm glad I'm shallow and stupid.

*Paraphrased, because I wasn't exactly paying attention.

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

$$$, or lack thereof

OMFG! I'm broke! I thought I had $300 in my checking account, but today I found out I only have a little over $100. That'll teach me not to pay all of my bills at once. Good thing payday's on Friday already. Whew!

At least I'd be able to save a few dollars starting next month. Netflix, god bless them, reduced their fee to $17 a month; I'm downgrading my cell phone plan; and I finally finished paying off the Best Buy credit card. I've stopped using two other credit cards, so all I have to worry about are the Old Navy (now accepted at GAP and Banana Republic. Hurrah!) and Victoria's Secret (a girl needs her underwear) cards.

I also got my first decent grade this semester. And it's a B for my American Studies mid-term.

Currently working on my response paper for World Cinema. Can anyone tell me how I can stretch "I agree" to fill up at least a page?

And if I hear one more word about the fucking elections, I'm pulling my hair out.

Sunday, October 24, 2004

Ashlee Simpson "Live"

This? Best. SNL performance. Ever!

Poor Ashlee. She's this generation's Milli Vanilli. At least Hilary Duff has been never caught lipsynching. Not to my knowledge, anyway.

By the way, that clip only aired on the East Coast feed. They edited out all the juicy parts for the West Coast. You only get to hear the background music, and then she does her stupid dance, the band starts "playing," and she runs off-stage.

Cut to commercial and a couple of skits.

Right before the closing credits rolled, she apologized for running off and blamed the band for "playing the wrong song." Riiiight! We believe you, punk.

Saturday, October 23, 2004

Mine, mine, mine!

Holy Crap, I want this shirt! Someone buy it for me at Hot Topic, please!

Friday, October 22, 2004

CBC, Chem 7, ABC, 123

Corday's gone! NOOOOOOOO!

Damn you, ER. Damn you!

And to replace her, they hired a half-dozen new and useless blahs. Dubenko, I guess, would be the run-to surgeon now that Corday is gone. He's an asswipe and he shall never be forgiven for essentially driving Elizabeth away. There's the spunky, blonde social worker, who is so full of sass it's a wonder she's not bloated. Who is she? Does she have a name? She called Carter an ass. That means they'll be hooking up, right? Shane "Potato Nose" West is fugly. That is all. And the new med students? Whatever!

At least Howard's gone. He was pointless.

The Sam/Luka/Alex (wow, if I weren't an ER fan, I would think this is some sort of gay porn threesome) storyline lasted longer than Corday's exit arc. That is just wrong. And annoying.

On a better note, I totally called that the mom was crazy! Go me!

Thursday, October 21, 2004

Cartesian Skepticism

I'm currently trying to write a paper on Cartesian Skepticism for my honors colloquium class.

In a nutshell, Cartesian Skepticism basically questions knowledge, which leads to a questioning of reality, which leads to a questioning of existence. Here's what the Dictionary of Philosopy of Mind says about it:
"Any of a class of skeptical views against empirical knowledge based on the claim that claims to empirical knowledge are defeated by the possibility that we might be deceived insofar as we might be, for example, dreaming, hallucinating, deceived by demons, or brains in vats."

From what I understood -- which is sadly, not a lot -- there is nothing definite about anything in this world, because you never know whether we're real or living in The Matrix (which I should definitely watch soon, by the way).

So right now, I'm sitting here trying to create some logic out of this logic. Judging by this Cartesian belief, I might not even be here. What I'm doing right now might not be reality. I'm quite possibly dreaming, and maybe this homework doesn't even exist. So why should I do it? If I do it and get a good grade, when I wake up from this very vivid dream (just because it's "vivid" doesn't mean it's real. There are very few instances where you're dreaming and you know it. Mostly, when you dream, in your dream, you think what goes on is reality) I would just be disappointed that the rare A I received was not real. On the other hand, if I don't do it and fail, it'll be a nightmare, and I would surely be relieved when I wake up.

It's like when I was a little girl. One of my classmates had a really, really nice backpack and some kind of awesome toy. I was totally jealous and wished I was her. At some point, I considered the possiblity that I was just living in the longest dream in the world and any moment now, I will wake up as her -- with the cute backpack and toy, and live happily ever after.

Also when I was little, I briefly considered the fact that maybe I'm the only real person in this world. I'm the only one with the real soul and an actual working mind. How would I know if other people are real, too? I don't know what they think or feel. Do they even think or feel?

As silly as these sound, it's totally true.

However, should you take my word for it that it's actually true? Whether I'm actually telling the truth, nobody will ever know. I can't justify it just by telling you, and I can't present solid facts that would do so. Besides, even if I can prove it, how would you know if it is true? I mean, this might not even be real. It could be just a dream.

And now my head hurts.

Anyway, in all seriousness, if I write this on my paper, would I actually get a grade?

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

Fall 2004

Holy motherfucker, this is the worst semester ever!

I'm stuck with the stupidest classes and most boring professors. And, something I never thought would ever happen, my procrastination has reached new highs. Or lows, come to think of it.

Semestral goal: C average.

I wanna dieeeeeee!!!!!

Monday, October 18, 2004

A life plan

Okay, so my parents' decision to buy a house has been scrapped. It was mostly due to financial issues and, possibly, sentimental ones, as well.

Earlier tonight, as I was lounging around and trying to decide whether I should study, watch an Everwood re-run, or take a shower, my dad came in the room with a new agenda. He asked what year I am in college. "I'm a junior." "So you have one year left?" "If I'm lucky." "Three years tops?" "Hopefully." "Good, so then, you can get a full-time job, and you could have this house and finish paying for it, and we can buy a new one."

So now, as I'm sitting here, waiting for my hair to dry, I am also thinking about what I would do in the future. First of all, I'm going to graduate and get a full-time job. I'm going to keep this house and Ate Karen's car. That way, I wouldn't have to spend so much money on either. There are more important things to think about.

I would need to save money for furniture. I'd like a minimalist, Ikea look; neutral colors, with red accents. It's a small place. I would have to make use of space-saving techniques, so that means I need a plasma TV. And an oversized love sac, a multi-purpose resting...device. I'll replace the kitchen countertop tiles with white ones, for a cleaner look. I'll buy a dishwasher, because I'm lazy. I'll put all my inflated furniture out in the patio, or maybe, I'll just get a hammock. Is there such thing as a bonsai palm tree? It'd be nice to set a tropical island mood in my patio, but an actual palm tree wouldn't fit. And I'll get a puppy!

Anyway, when I'm done with all these, y'all can come visit. I'll let you sleep in my guest room, and if you're lucky, I'll let you use my love sac for 10 whole minutes.

Friday, October 15, 2004

Be aggressive! Be, be aggressive!

In the jungle, the hunt for food and game is dominated by the bigger, faster animal. The big billy goat gruff gets the troll under the bridge. Papa Bear gets the big bowl of porridge. And the big, bad wolf gets the yummy little girl.

At the Cal State Fullerton Parking lot today, I was the big, bad wolf. And I get the game (which henceforth shall be called "parking spot").

It was just a few minutes past 10 this morning and the rush of prey (students done with school for the day) has just ended. Enter moi. I circle around the little parking area provided for students at the College Park lot. I see no empty space. I circle again. And again. And again. Fifteen minutes later, there are three other cars circling the lot with me. The competition gets tougher.

Later on, a student arrives, car keys on hand. Everyone slows down, inching little by little toward the student, hoping to be at the right place at the right time, when he gets into his car and leaves. On the first row of parking spaces, he stops. Everyone speeds to get there. An idiot gets there first, but drives past where the student's car is. He's out. I overtake another car to get into the row first. He's out. It was just another girl and me left. We approached the row from opposite ends and arrive at the student's space at the same time. I signal first. She's out.

I win, and I get the spot. And I spend the next hour napping, while those other fools duke it out once more for the next open space.


Tuesday, October 12, 2004

Lancelot du Suck


Completely and totally forgot about my Honors paper! I had to rush through it. So by Wednesday, my class will be enjoying an extremely biased, BS'ed, unobjective paper on how sucky Robert Bresson is and how bad his movies are.

I don't think I'll go to class on Wednesday. It's too embarassing.

Sunday, October 10, 2004


Currently watching ASAP Maniacs on TFC. Bad outfits abound. Stripes on stripes and stripes on polka dots are everywhere, gracing every single bitch's super pale, skinny frame. Rica Whatshername has lost weight. Gone are the Christmas ham thighs and beach ball bum. She now sports chicken legs and the ugliest fringe in the world, which she has decided to show off with a bright orange top and some kind of bright pink, polka-dotted scarf thingy that wraps around the waist. At one point, there was a bunch of dancers gyrating on stage wearing hot pants and cut-off tops. Two dancers' tops has ridden all the way up to their necks, revealing their bras and foobs (fake boobs).

Other than their usual exploitation of women, they've also taken to making a fool of innocent kids. They had five young'uns sing a song, the lyrics of which consisted of repeating "cute" over and over again. There was the usual "Hindi Ako Bakla"/"Pamela"/"Ocho-Ocho" medly, a butchering of various good songs, and a saaaaaad rendering of Dolly Parton's "Islands in the Stream".

Jasmine Trias famewhored. She sang the McDonald's Philippines theme song (entitled "Love Ko 'To". Blech!) and a flirty song called "Heartburn" with Martin Nievera and Gary Valenciano. As talented as those guys are, nothing is more wrong than the sight of them pretending to dry hump a 17-year-old together.

Off to a different note, everyone must read
this re-telling of the Prisoner of Azkaban movie. It's bloody brilliant.

Saturday, October 09, 2004

Chicka lang

According to a beat at this site, Hilary Duff has dedicated one of her new badly-sung songs to bashing my favorite teenage skank, Lindsay Lohan:
Teen singer and actress Hilary Duff has reportedly hit out at arch-rival Lindsay Lohan in a song on her latest album. The Lizzie McGuire blonde, 17, has been enemies with the 18-year-old redhead since they both discovered they were dating pop heart-throb Aaron Carter at the same time last year. In Duff's eponymous second album, the singer's track "Haters" is aimed at the Mean Girls actress, according to gossip site The Scoop. One insider says, "Hilary thinks that Lindsay has been directing negativity at her for too long." One verse of the song reads, "You're queen of superficiality/ Keep your lies out of my reality." At a later point, Duff sings, "You say your boyfriend's sweet and kind/ But you've still got your eyes on mine."

Untalented biatch.

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

Damn you, stupid printer!

After weeks and weeks of puzzlement, I finally figured out why the damn printer isn't working. I have a bunch of papers I have to print out and, because of the lack of funds on my titancard and sheer desperation, I decided, rather than call Ate Karen and complain again, to get down on my hands and knees and actually look behind the CPU to see what's up.

Objective: Get the printer to start working again.

Materials: Flashlight, mirror.

Hypothesis: The printer needs to be reset or refreshed, or something, because it hasn't been used for so long and is literally covered in dust.

Procedure: (1) Get down on hands and knees; (2) crawl under computer desk; (3) with flashlight and mirror, see what's up.

Observation: The printer definitely isn't broken because the lights are on and paper comes out when I press "Paper Feed." There are two cords running from the printer: a solid, black one and a glittery, see-through one. I tugged at the solid black, it didn't budge, so I figured it was connected to something. The glittery one wasn't attached to anything when I pulled on it and the end looked like something you connect to a CPU.

Conclusion: The solid, black cord is the electric plug and is connected to the socket. The glittery, see-through cord is the printer thingy that you attach to the CPU. So obviously, the printer isn't hooked up to anything. And that's why it isn't working. Took me over a month to figure that out.

Smart one, Holmes.

Tuesday, October 05, 2004

Blah, blah, blah

Argh, frick on a brick with a stick! Stupid vice-presidential debates got Scrubs pre-empted. This is the second time it happened to my shows. I mean, I know it's supposed to be "important," but c'mon! Do they have to air it in every single channel? It's the vice-presidential debates, for crying out loud! One more time and I'd have to buy a "Voting is for Suckers" shirt to wear on Nov. 2.

E-mails between me and my high school friends have kicked up once again, the discussion mainly revolving around study abroad. I'm very much up for it, so hopefully, I'd be able to do it soon. Here are the countries that were brought into consideration:

Russia. I've never been to Russia, so I think it would be an interesting place to go to. Not knowing the language or the culture is a set-back, and the urge to go to St. Petersburg and run around singing "Once Upon A December" and "At The Beginning" from Anastasia at the top of my lungs would be hard to fight.

Somewhere in Africa. I want to go to Africa, but not for school. I wanna live like a hippie in Morocco or go on a safari and make friends with the apes, just like Jane Goodall or Julia Roberts in that one orangutan documentary or Anthony Hopkins on Instinct (without the crazy, of course).

Er, okay. So far, chances are slim that I'd be able to go to these places. But it ever happens, you can bet your ass I'd be doing these things. I may have to get a little high or very drunk to do it, but still.

Saturday, October 02, 2004

Thank you for calling

As much as I love the speed and convenience of communicating through e-mails and cell phones, it sucks schweaty balls that I never get real, personal mails anymore. Back when I was ghetto and didn't have regular internet access or a cell phone, I used to get those things and, my god, did they warmed my stone-cold heart! Now, all I get are bills. Bills, bills, bills. And despite the fact that I hate receiving them and loathe paying them off, the allure of the promised discount coupon when you earn so many points is sweet and gets me spending. So this week, even though I received most of my bills for the month, I'm still in a very good mood because aside from the nasty things, I got a handful of coupons and a rebate check from when I bought something from somewhere. Which is perfect because (a) I get to go shopping for Illinois and (b) there are a lot of DVDs and CDs coming out soon that I'm looking forward to. So yay!

My first paper for World Cinema is due in a week or so, and so far, I've only seen a quarter of one of the three movies that I have to watch. And judging from it and the fraction of the readings I've done, it won't be too interesting a paper to write. My topic has to do with French director Robert Bresson. Who is insane. He keeps saying things like, one shouldn't film a scene; one should paint it. And the people in the movie aren't actors, the are models. They don't portray, they become. It's basically a couple of thousand pages of that, accompanied by three movies guaranteed to bring you tears of boredom. I'm totally looking forward to writing it and sending it to all of the class to read and critique. Should be tons of fucking fun. And not humiliating at all. No siree...

So, work is fun. I'm getting used to strangers calling me "darling" and "sweetie" and "love" and "dearheart" (wtf?) over the phone. I talked to an Australian guy today who, for some reason, was having trouble understanding my American accent, which was weird. I understood him perfectly, and everything, and I would think because the accent is so commonplace and you can hear it just about everywhere, it'd be easy to pick-up.

So yeah. Blah, blah, blah.

God, I'm a fountain of cheer and fun stories, aren't I?