Pinoy Blog Machine (Beta)

One of our guilty pleasures in the office is watching Eat Bulaga. So, while we're eating our lunch, we watch the silly and wacky antics of Eat Bulaga's hosts. It doesn't hurt to watch a ridiculously funny show when you watch ANC, CNN, and the countless news programs all day, no?

My favorite portion of the show is the "Bulagaan", that long-standing segment of Eat Bulaga. I remember when Diane, our Fil-German intern a few months back, was still in the office. She asked why we like "Bulagaan" and watch it all the time when the hosts' antics are more or less the same every day. I found myself and Lara speechless for a moment there. Truly, how do you explain the "Bulagaan" phenomenon?

Anyway, although I still like it when it's Vic Sotto and Jose's turn, my daily digest of "Bulagaan" now would not be complete without Mitoy. Mitoy, I am your newest fan.

More airtime for Mitoy! Bring back Chuchay!



In this video, Mitoy and Chuchay appear near at the end. Just be patient in loading the clip. I tell you -- it will be worth the wait.



By the way, this is my first post after upgrading this blog. I hope I won't experience any problems with the blog-moving -- heard some bad experiences from others who earlier upgraded their blogs.

That's it. Another term, another slew of botched quizzes. It hit me then that if I want to get rich and buy useless stuff later in my storied life, I better get my ass working right now.

So I've gone classical. Ever heard of the Mozart Effect? One study suggested that listening to Mozart (or any classical music for that matter) will increase your performance in class. I was THAT desperate, so...

For the past two days, I was listening to Vivaldi. Great stuff, actually. I listened as I reviewed. I listened before I slept. I listened while riding the bus. I had Vivaldi for breakfast.

Now, I cannot verify if it worked or not (I hope it did), but what I know was that I got weird looks as I bumped my head up and down like a rabid pianist. Treat this method with caution, people.

But that wasn't enough for me. Hell, if I wanted better grades I must as well feel like I could really get them. I needed to dress the part as well. So may I now present to you, Top Nerd.

That knitted jacket was my dad's way back in the 70's. Yes, it smelled like aparador.

Now I have had a few similar fashion blunders quirks. There's my "punk" phase.

I had a penchant for things cranial.

My heroes? Simple Plan and Avril Lavigne. You may now shoot me.

Next came my athletic look. I used to wear these wristbands all the time.

I even came to my cousin's wedding looking like the top seed at Wimbledon. The image still haunts me to this day. Notice the cute kitty drawing on my bedsheet. I hate pussies. Except the other kind.

Over the years, I managed to collect necklaces

and caps.

I am not promising to look like this everyday. It will just cause too much damage in my already crippled life.

Will the Mozart Effect work? The Top Dog Nerd will have to wait and see.

Years ago I wore something hard and stiff and tailored, had my hair and makeup done, wore heels that wouldn't quit, and spent way too much money on my prom pictures. Last night, back at a high school prom at 21, I took things much more simply. I'd learned my lesson. I put on some lipstick and gloss, threw on a slinky black dress and a wide red belt, slipped into shorter black strappy heels, and I was ready.

The night, in highlights:

• My friend Ruth, staring at the tattoo on my breast peeking out from under me dress while we were dressing up in her apartment: "What does it say?" Me: "It's a secret!" Ruth: "I'm going to be staring at it all night."

• Meeting Ruth's friend, Lizelle, who took Civil Engineering in uni and now works as an interpreter and a teacher. She told me she'd applied to SAID (a deaf school) right after graduating even though she didn't know how to sign at all. They trained her before she started teaching, and now she interprets for a living. I stored that fact away for future reference, filed under Things I Might Want to Do.

• Hearing some street children saying disparaging remarks about the deaf while I was signing with a bunch of deaf people. They were laughing to each other about how funny sign language was and making up their own signs, most of them predictably crude. I turned around and signed to them, while speaking in perfect Filipino, "Sa tingin niyo ba hindi kayo namin naririnig?" ("Do you really think we can't hear you?") The looks on their faces were priceless.
  

• Waiting for our ride and coming across two boys from the school, both of whom immediately asked to be introduced to me. One of them, Patrick, told me I was beautiful with this hilariously awestruck look on his face. I thanked him, grinning at his boyish awe. He asked me to be his date to next year's prom right there, and I said I would if I were still around. He looked at me like he'd never seen a woman before in his life. Nothing like a boy to make you feel pretty.
  

• Signing with a woman the whole night, and then both of us realizing only later that we were both hearing.

• A chaperone, in the bathroom, while eyeing my cleavage: "Mark [my date] is going to have a memorable night."

• Watching the deaf students perform their choreographed dance routine and marveling at how they could move in time with the music without ever hearing it. Noticing how observant they all were, watching we hearing people clap to the beat.

• Signing to Ruth from across the room with the music blaring and people talking, and being able to understand her perfectly.

• Learning from my date how to sign local curse words (the English ones I've already got covered).

• Being posed for the prom picture by the photographer with my date's arms around my waist and my body touching his, and trying not to giggle at how badly his hands were shaking and how... happy... certain other parts of his anatomy were.

• Watching one of the emcees (both of whom were deaf) speak into the mic as her partner translated in sign language, and realizing I was one of the few who could tell the mic wasn't working.

• Cringing at sudden shrieks of static, and having my deaf friends look amusedly at me.

• Telling someone I'm hearing and having him sign back consolingly, "That's okay, at least you know how to sign."

• Asking someone if his last name was French, and spending the next ten minutes trying to explain to him the existence of different kinds of spoken languages, and how to distinguish one from the other.

• Watching as the club lights flickered on and the dance floor became a free-for-all. Being unable to take my eyes away from the deaf people dancing unabashedly to their own rhythms, oblivious to the beat of the music. Noting in particular one couple grinding slowly and sensually against each other in their own world as the stereos blared, "Why do you bill me up, Buttercup, baby, just to let me down..."
  

• Getting surprised when Patrick came up to me with flowers.

• Watching as one of the emcees called sign language the most beautiful language in the world, and finding myself agreeing wholeheartedly.