my new address now is

http://luthientinuviel79@wordpress.com

blog.com has been unreliable and swamped with spam comments.

i never get tired of listening to them, especially songs from their Dizzy Up the Girl album.

when are they coming to manila???

gaaaaah! the japanese are really rude for making me cry. as in bawling-like-a-baby-with-hiccups-to-match kind of cry.

why is that we always take for granted the most important thing in our lives and we only realize it when it’s too late? then we kid ourselves, live in denial until we have exhausted ourselves to death and only then we would recognize that we’ve been the biggest fools this world has ever seen.

that is the essence of this movie, heavenly forest.

you can watch it online here (it has 12 parts, the 13th part is the credits).

makoto (a guy this time), a freshman college in meiki university, met this child-like girl shizuru (who was also a freshman) while she was trying to stop traffic to cross the street. he told her that cars wouldn’t stop even if there was a pedestrian lane but shizuru insisted that she just wanted to know if there are people who would be kind enough to stop and allow her to cross. that’s how shizuru was—quirky, dorky and simple-minded.

but beneath it all, she was a beautiful strong woman in her own way.

she harbored this deep love for makoto from thereon and she was not afraid to tell him that.

“What is perhaps most remarkable about Heavenly Forest, then, is that despite whatever clichés it may contain (and it contains many), the film’s central romance never feels contrived or overly-manipulative. In fact, as audience members, we don’t realize just how invested we are in that relationship until the delivery of an abrupt wake-up call that most viewers may not fully anticipate.” — Calvin McMillin, www.lovehkfilm.com

the shots in this movie are beautiful,  and just like in the love letter, it seemed like every frame in this movie was well thought out. the lake behind the university seemed surreal like it was located somewhere else. the mist, the low-hanging tree branches, the reflection on the water…all of these added to shizuru’s belief that the forest was their—and only their—secret hiding place.

(the university reminded me of kyoto university where i lived for 8 days. *sigh* seriously, desperately want to go back to japan)

these days it seemed like it’s impossible to watch any kind of romantic movie from hollywood without sex or implications of sex. ergo you’ve got to watch this movie and see for yourself that romantic films don’t have to be pushy, sexy or dipped in sizzling hot cliches to move audiences. actually, those kind of films are exhausting to watch.

if you’re not affected by heavenly forest, even just for a little bit, i condemn you to eternal damnation, you heartless creature! (hehehe)

been busy with—doing nothing in particular. just floating around.

been to a job exam and interview. they haven’t called me back since they probably sensed that i wouldn’t be taking the job if they offered it to me. it’s with an international organization but it’s a dead-end job anyway.

then i floated around some more and got lost in a world of anime and manga.

then—bam!

i’m pregnant.

it’ll be the start of one long roller coaster ride that would last us a lifetime.

why are the japanese  fond of making beautiful, heart-wrenching movies (think love letter by shunji iwai) that do not have fairytale endings?! aside from that, they leave you hanging and make you think at the end of the film. it’s utterly annoying but at the same time it makes you look forward to watching more films like that.

i’ve been a victim once again. darn it.

come with me and share my anguish. watch the girl who leapt through time.

i let forced my younger sister to watch it—nahawa sya. i gave my journalist friend a copy, nainis sya sa kin kasi naapektuhan sya.

sana maapektuhan din kayo.

download it through bittorrent here:

and whenever i hear this music, i just want to cry.

damn studio ghibli!

the story is classified as fantasy and yet…it’s realistic to the point that it stirs up real raw human emotions without trying too hard. these are the things you experience in high school (in one way or another), with friendship and with first love. this movie is about having the courage to own up to your actions and face the consequences. it’s about trying to accept the things that have come to pass because time waits for no one.

makoto, a 17-year old 2nd-year high school girl, was having a really bad day. she was barely in time for class. the teacher gave them a pop quiz where she got a zero. she caused a mini-fire in cooking class that singed her bangs. a guy was thrown at her in the school yard and it eventually led to her being buried under a number of bodies that toppled over her.

things were really not going her way.

later that afternoon, she had a weird accident at the science lab before she was supposed to meet up with her best friends—who happened to be males—to play baseball.

and after that, for some strange reason, she was able to do “time leaping”, as her aunt termed it. with this new-found power, she went back in time to rectify the little mishaps she had the day before.

little did she know that changing the past would have terrible consequences.

at first, makoto only tried to change the trivial things, which seemed innocent and harmless enough. but she later on graduated to erasing the things that forced her to confront her emotions and think about the road she had to take. she was a coward: makoto was a female peter pan as she lives only one day at a time and keeps putting off the future. like a child, she only wished for the three of them–makoto, chiaki and kosuke—to stay as they are forever and ever.

but then fate really has a way of making one grow up.

this used to be a dirt road (in yupielbi); i took a long walk one early evening
for inspiration. i already forgot what it is like to walk under the trees

i’m already in chapter 15—about halfway through my novel. my two sisters have read it and they said the story is intriguing enough. my older sister said she just wonders where i get my ideas and she said i really have a really wild imagination. my younger sister said she is having trouble with my style, or the lack thereof.

i think newspaper writing had killed any style i had.

i kept on rereading whatever i had written. i could not put my finger in it but i knew something major was missing. something like…a zing. it needs zing. it needs more atmosphere. i’m also struggling with the language. i need to expand my vocabulary.

i know, i need to have more adjectives.

i already forgot how to write with flourish, to play with adjectives and adverbs. i guess several years in this business killed the creativity in me (or something akin to that). in straight news, you cannot put too much adjectives in a story—you must keep a semblance of balance or “objectivity” (if there’s such a thing). in special reports and feature stories you are allowed to have a little more elbow room but i seldom get to write such stories nowadays.

i must get my groove back.

it’s hard to create characters that aren’t like cardboards, with back stories that i do not really have to incorporate in the main story. they have to have personalities without telling the reader outright. (as my boss said, you should say it, not tell the reader”). they have to shine through their dialogues, the way they speak and the subtle movements. at the same time i have to keep the action/adrenalin rush going (as i chose a really action-oriented fantasy story) plus i have to make everything vivid for the reader.

as a fan of subtle subplots, its challenging for me incorporate these without being too loud. i hate in-your-face moments. but the problem was, my younger sister couldn’t get the subtleties. “you’re too subtle! i couldn’t even catch it until you pointed it out to me,” she said.

no wonder writers take at least a year to write one novel. it’s a never-ending rereading, editing, rehashing and—if they’re really lucky—they may have to start from scratch if things aren’t working out.

and i am tempted to do that. my novel is told in the first-person point of view but i am contemplating whether i should shift to the third person. but that would entail at least a hundred pages worth of words.

choices, choices.

and you know what? this is the only thing that keeps me happy these days amid the chaos that is my professional life. this is the only thing that keeps me excited. pathetic, i know but i wish i could just have a year off to concentrate on what i am doing right now…to read books, climb mt. makiling, and write/type on my laptop under an acacia tree.

i need a financier.

…i refrained from commenting about this issue, from writing about the bloody, stupid incident on Monday because it causes me to hyperventilate and my pupils to dilate. but what the hell—i might as well post my facebook comments here.

“parang narinig ko sa radyo na the brother had a cellphone with him na he was communicating with the hostage-taker or something kaya he had to be taken away plus the brother may face other charges dahil dun. di malinaw sa akin yung part na y…un kasi kasalukuyang nagsuswimming na kotse ko sa baha kaya di ako makaconcentrate.

kulang sa training pa ang mga pulis pagdating sa crisis na ganito…”

“atsaka sabi sa news reports sa radyo the hostage-taker had a way of monitoring the outside world through media reports kaya nung pinosasan daw si spo2 mendoza, nag-amok na itong isa. dapat siguro hindi na live icover ito ng media kasi it would jeopardize the nego. dapat confidential itong mga ito and saka na lang magbrief sa media…”

“dapat din kasi narendahan ng mesa ang mga reporters at ng pulis HQ mismo na hindi dapat naeere nang live yung sa kapatid. ang nakapagtrigger nga ata nun kasi yung pagposas…”

“nakikinig lang kasi ako sa radyo kanina and from their accounts, ang sabi eh yung pagposas daw. when i tuned in to another station, sabi the brother was communicating daw with the hostage-taker na hindi nila nagustuhan yung guarantee letter. daming accounts, nalilito na rin ako…”

“he [noynoy] was nowhere to be found/heard during the crisis. dapat sya nga ang naunang tumawag sa HK to assure them of blah blah blah instead of the HK govt ang naghahabol sa atin na tipong “what’s happening???” hindi ata ganun ang magandang gawain para sa magandang diplomatic relationship sa mga kapit-bahay natin lalo na maraming pinoy na manggagawa sa HK…”

“dahil sa dami nang tagapag-salita ng presidente, iba-iba ang sinasabi. parang anu bah, parang kalat-kalat itong gobyernong ito. parang walang central command. parang—communicators ba kayo???”

ayan. i’m starting to hyperventilate again.

my brother has a new macbook pro. the one with the unibody thingy.

and i was the first one who opened the box and powered up this baby.

A dear friend emailed me and asked how am i doing since she knows I’m in this damned situation right now. This what I told her:

Dear B,

Right now I’m in this damned crossroad that i am reluctant to cross. I’m afraid pag tinalikuran ko ang pagdyadyaryo baka hanap-hanapin ko sya. Pero sabi nga ng kapatid ko kanina, mas magandang hanap-hanapin ko sya na pwede ko namang balikan kesa sa umabot ako sa point na nagkakalat na ako at di na ako makabalik dahil sinira ko na ang pangalan ko dahil di na ako makadeliver dahil sa sobrang burned out na ako. Na napaso na ako at walang mukhang maihaharap sa journalism community dahil yun nga, hinayaan ko na ang sarili kong magkalat ako dahil pinilit ko pa. Baka no one would take me back.

Di ako makadecide dahil di ko na alam kung ano na ang gagawin ko. Last week nagrelieve ako sa ___, kala ko babalik yung enthusiasm ko sa ginagawa ko. Hindi rin pala. So nasagot na yung tanong ko kung pwede pa akong maging reporter. Di din pala so pag lumipat ako ng dyaryo parang ganito din pala ang kakaharapin kong dilemma. Or  I may be wrong.

Ang problema ko ngayon is di ko na alam san ako lulugar. Di ko na makita kung ano ba yung goal ko. Ano ba ang gusto kong maging. I don’t know what my dreams are. I don’t know what I want.

In the end my sister concluded that I need a hobby.

—

UPDATE:

i should take one photo a day and upload it here, to document random stuff. something to do besides this f*cking job. it’s not really a hobby but it’s better than moping until i figure out what to do next.

“Ohhhhhh myyyyyy gaaaaad, luthien! you are so angry. i could feel your angst. what happened to you?” K, my dear gay friend who is also from the industry, exclaimed.

i was speechless. i didn’t realize that i was spewing so much vitriol that K could not help covering his face to prevent any lasting damage to his pretty face. it was a beautiful Friday night and M, K and i were supposed to have a nice relaxed dinner, French wine and lots of chit-chat somewhere in Fort Bonifacio.

but then the angst hissed its way out of me. goodbye nice dinner.

“you should get out of that damned situation, fast,” he ordered me. “you feel like you’re drowning because of all these issues with you but you have to figure out what is the most important thing that you should address first. everything else will follow.”

M & K agreed with my original plan to take time off…leave my present job, breathe, and then go job hunting again.

“the problem with you—the reason why you’ve been in these crossroads for as long as i can remember—is that you wallow. you dilly-dally. you’ve been buying time. you could not take a course of action because you’re a coward. you’re afraid to face the consequences of your decisions,” M told me.

yeah, i couldn’t deny that. i should’ve left a long time ago but i was afraid that i would miss doing what i was doing before. i was afraid that i would fade into obscurity.

i know i should go NOW. i don’t have any reason to stay; i’ve run out of excuses. but i could not figure out my next move, ergo, i’m still here seething and biting everybody’s head off. resentment is eating me alive.

and there’s this fear again of missing and desiring my soon-to-be former life in media. i’m scared of confronting this longing that i know i would eventually feel later on. (the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence).

yes, i’m a coward. i’m terrified of confronting these fears. i don’t want to encounter them so i’m still here.

“but you’re turning into this fat and bitter bitch,” K said.

“yeah, i know. i drown my sorrows with food. i overcompensate,” i replied, a tinge of exasperation could be heard from my voice.

“honey, you’d better take care of yourself,” K reminded me. he then pulled my love handles to prove his point.

ah.

where can i get the courage so i can finally tender my resignation?