Sunday, June 29, 2014

Do-overs and realizations (Feat. Sara Bareilles & Iggy Azalea)

So I just poured my morning rants out in a very unpremeditated manner via my previous blog post and I thought it was not only an impromptu but also, poorly constructed. Maybe I should just quit hitting "publish" every time I got to let go of something, eh?

After that blog post (which probably won't be read by anyone anyway, so what the fuss is this fuss about?) I knew I still had to go on with my life, of course. I still had an accounting lecture to attend to, so after lunch, I bathed and prepared myself. It's a Saturday and on such days, we do not wear our uniform.


Imagine the horror that comes with deciding on what to wear. Ladies, hear me? I know, right?

Bitch, my closet isn't as tidy as yours. Shut up.
I have found myself in the situation where I really really really like a certain outfit. I don't want to sound vain, but I have this thing about wearing my clothes repeatedly - it makes me really annoyed with myself. But since I really really really liked that shirt, I wouldn't care if I hang myself for wearing it again. And then I just got tired of it. And then I see it as garbage. 

So I move on to the next favorite shirt that I managed to add up to the garbage category. Then some more. Until the only wearable, un-garbagey thing in my closet is a shirt that I didn't even liked in the first place. In the end I decided on wearing a tank top and a cardigan. Very chic.


I realized that I have a pathetic policy about wearing out my clothes. Not only because I get to turn my favorite clothes into garbage but also because my closet is a breathing entity. 
Yeah, maybe next week I will organize it.
It practically has a life of its own and I won't be surprised if I learn that there's a closet monster somewhere in that huge pit of fabric.


After playing dress-up, I applied makeup. Whats a girl to do? (Never mind the hair, my hair reflects my state of mind.) I find happiness in makeup. Tell me I am not the only one.

And so I applied and removed and applied and removed. Just because I love the glitters and the colors and the effect on my hopeless face.


I am going to school so I better not make any smoky-eye and dramatic contouring. Besides, I would look funny wearing that much makeup when all I had to do was sit for four hours and listen to the professor and write and listen and not be appreciated for aesthetics. It's accounting, what would you expect?


Just before I head out the door, I received a text from my friend, Joy. She was asking what time I should be in school, because she's clingy like that. Kidding. She just goes to school every other day, so we need to catch-up on things. After the crying episode that morning, I realized that there's no sense in carrying the depression over until the end of the day.

During the ride to school, I felt better. It was sunny but not hot, and the weather is nice. Iggy Azalea was asking who dat, who dat that do dat, do dat. Because she be the I-G-G-Y and she'll put her name in bold. She's fancy like that.


My music is playing on shuffle. I didn't even realize that Sara Bareilles is making me teary-eyed, as if I was listening to a Nicholas Sparks audiobook, when she was just singing about a really old city in the center of Queens.

Sara, why are you doing this to me? 

I don't know why I cried, okay?


I guess I just feel like my life is going way too fast for me, and the only way I can cope up is to vent it out. But of course, being the weirdo that I am, I can't find the way to express my deepest, darkest issues. Even I can't enumerate them myself, so I can try to fix them up, at least for my own peace of mind. I just can't, so my brain just says "Cry. Wallow in self-pity. Eat ice cream. Repeat."


Maybe I should just accept the fact that I am losing it. Or I am near losing it. Who cares? The next time I feel like crying, maybe I would just watch Armageddon again. And again. And again. Or The Notebook. Or The Last Song. Or all of them. Then I could just blame it all on the movie. Or movies. Or whatever.

You said, remember that life is
Not meant to be wasted
We can always be chasing the sun
So fill up your lungs and just run
But always be chasing the sun!
And all we can do is try. 

-Sara Bareilles, Chasing the Sun

Saturday, June 28, 2014

5.34 doses of sadness.

I woke up this morning in a very weird state.

I have been reading some pretty depressing books that made me ugly-cry recently, but this morning was surely different. I don’t know, maybe I have dreamt of something depressing and then forgot all about it as soon as I opened my eyes, but there really was something that had me crying at 5:34 am.

It’s like something inside me had just woke me up from a dreamless sleep to say “Hey, life is sad. You are sad. Go cry.” So I did. Mind you, it wasn't a teary eyed state of crying - it was somewhere near to a “cry yourself to sleep” type of sobbing but more painful in the chest because I tried really hard to suppress my sobs, because my sister is sleeping right beside me.

I checked my phone and it says 5:34, and that in itself was weird. Ever since this school year started, I don’t wake up at 5:34 am. Give or take the fact that I stay up until 3 am studying, thus making the 4 am to 6 am zone a deep-in-slumber you-can’t-do-anything-to-wake-me-up-zone.

I did get sleep eventually, I’m not really sure at what time. At past 7 am, my mom goes about yelling for everyone (or is it just dad?) to wake up. I did, too. When I went downstairs, I felt okay. I laid down again but did not sleep as what I always do until I get the urge to have some coffee. I just laid there, one arm my face. Minutes later, I realized that I was tearing up yet again. I asked myself what could have been making me cry, but I cannot extract the answers. Not knowing just made it even more sad. I do not know what was wrong with me.

I laid there hiding my puffy face and pretending to sleep when my mom gets out from bath. I am praying that she didn't see, because that would just make her think that I am trying to act it out. That would add up to the sadness.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think I’m on the verge of losing it.

Friday, June 13, 2014

I really love you but I'm not good with words so here you go.

One day, that guy will come along.

He appreciates music more than rash talking.

He knows the value of comfortable silence

and the understanding that comes along with it.

He will speak once in a while

but of nothing that won’t make me feel loved.

Nothing will come out forced

for everything about him goes out freely.


One day.

Monday, June 9, 2014

I'm not yet over Eleanor & Park, neither should you be.

I came across some news. Oh, just you know, normal news. Eleanor & Park is going to be a motion picture. You know, by DreamWorks. Okay? Spazz out with me. 

In case you don't believe me... Read on, fandom!

Big Red is headed to the big screen.  
The girl with the flaming curls (and not-so-flattering nickname) from Eleanor & Park and
her soft-spoken, comic-book-loving crush will soon be getting the cinematic treatment, with DreamWorks Studios picking up film rights to Rainbow Rowell’s bestselling novel.
“Every girl who has read it says, ‘That was me in high school, or that was me in 7th grade,’” Holly Bario, DreamWorks president of production, tells EW. “It reminded all of us of our own sort of awkwardness, or family dysfunction.

The studio was drawn to the teenage love story for the same reason as its legions of fans. “It’s not the typical story where the ugly duckling is in love with the hot guy,” Bario says. “They’re both trying to find their way. They’re both outcasts.”
Set in 1986, and following one school year in Omaha, the novel follows the tentative romance of two 16-year-olds: Eleanor, a somewhat heavy girl overwhelmed by insecurities and trying to survive an abusive household, and Park, the quiet, half-Korean kid who also doesn’t feel like he fits in, but finds refuge in music and comic books. 
After its publication in February 2013, the book spent 12 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list, and has inspired a passionate, devoted following. 
“The book is uniquely structured in that one chapter is told by Eleanor and one chapter is told from Park’s perspective, and they alternate,” Bario points out. “So we’re trying to figure out how to do that in a movie. There are all storts of groovy stylistic things you could do with voice over, or words on the screen, but we want something that’s realRainbow.” 
With that in mind, Rowell – who is repped by UTA — has also been hired to write the screenplay. “She’s in the middle of writing another book, so we’re patiently waiting for her,” Bario said. 
Already on board the project are producer Carla Hacken, who as a studio executive oversaw Walk the Line and The Devil Wears Prada, and executive producer Matt Kennedy (the upcoming Predestination.)
Once the script is in, a director and cast will be attached. DreamWorks hopes to start shooting in 2015. 
But fans don’t need to wait for that … Who would YOU cast in the two main roles? Better to go with unknowns, or find a pair of young actors already on the rise?

And also: how awesome is this fanmade poster? I stumbled upon this on Tumblr. Credits to Antonette of The-Manila-Institute.

We're definitely waiting for this one. 

Peace. Love. Awesomeness.
//c xx.

Thursday, June 5, 2014

Rainbow Rowell | Eleanor & Park

     I have started this book like, a month ago but had to put it down because of finals coming up. Then it went forgotten, until my best friend one day asked me if have read it. I was asking for some light-reads and she suggested that I read it.

     To be honest, I was able to afford putting it down the first time because I had the impression of it just being some YA novel with quotable quotes and not much deep impact. But before I knew it, I was ugly-crying under the covers at 2am just because.


Two misfits. One extraordinary love.

Eleanor... Red hair, wrong clothes. Standing behind him until he turns his head. Lying beside him until he wakes up. Making everyone else seem drabber and flatter and never good enough...Eleanor.

Park... He knows she'll love a song before he plays it for her. He laughs at her jokes before she ever gets to the punch line. There's a place on his chest, just below his throat, that makes her want to keep promises...Park.

Set over the course of one school year, this is the story of two star-crossed sixteen-year-olds—smart enough to know that first love almost never lasts, but brave and desperate enough to try. 
[via Goodreads]


     This is the first book by Rainbow Rowell that I have read. First things first: how cute is her name, right? Pseudonym or not, I like it. Not that it matters, but still. The name also made me think that the the author was a guy sorry but then I thought what guy would actually name himself rainbow? So I figured it was the last name that got me thinking of a Mr. Rowell so yeah.

[Read further and you might spoil yourself.]

     Of all the things that I love about this book, the one thing that got me is the way that the author presented Eleanor. She's a redhead, and as if that's not enough reason to get bullied, she is also huge. I just don't know if it is chubby-huge or huge-huge, but in my mind it was renaissance model-huge. And she dresses differently from the others, which made me think, "WHYYYY? Aren't bullied girls supposed to be wanting to blend in, not stand out?" But then, girl. That's what you call genius character development.

     So... Park. Park the Asian kid who grew up in a conducive-to-growing-up household is selfish. Compared to Eleanor, his only problem aside from a episodal identity crisis is looking for his father's approval. Oh yeah, and his schoolmates'. But that's pretty much it! He gets fed accordingly, he has both his parents, he has material things (thus the comics and all those records) and he had some good looks in there. I don't even get why he thinks he's an outcast, he could pretty much get in the crowd if he wants to. #YouHaveTheIDatedTinaCardSoGoPlayYouDumbass #PlusYouCanKickAssOkay

     But then we have the other Park. Eleanor's Park. The Park who is pretty in eyeliner. The Park who is deep and caring and selfless. The Park who is too adorable that even Eleanor who hates the word fell in love with. Need I say more?

     Fast forward to the main conflict - the time when Eleanor realized that her life in Omaha was so screwed up so she needs to go to her uncle's. I WAS TORN. To bits. I knew that she needs to get away from that asshole stepfather of hers but then she needs to leave Park. Why is the world so cruel?

     How can I pull myself together after that last chapter, though? What are those 3 words, even? How could you, Rainbow Rowell? You made me fall in love with the idea of first love and then you broke my heart. Cruel, but pure genius.

    I love it and I hate it at the same time, if there is such feeling at all. I love and hate it so much that it hurts. It hurts how much I ship Eleanor & Park and I hate how much I love their respective points of view. I hate how Rainbow Rowell made me feel like an unfortunately deprived and abused teenage girl and I hate how she made me fall in love with the idea of falling in love. I hate it that she took it all away in the blink of an eye, and left me hanging, asking myself what three words would I have written if I was Eleanor.

I give it:

Rock on.