What in-god's-name book are you reading?!

PICTURE: Lip Gloss does New Moon.

For this Christmas I received the following: a comprehensive how-to-speak-French set (6 CDs, a course book, and a free offer for a private tutorial session … abroad. How convenient.), a best-of-Larry-King-Live-interviews DVD, 2 fountain pens, and an entire collection of Bob Ong tomes. For some obvious reason, everyone thinks I’m a complete nerd.

Being the “complete” nerd they say I am, I am happy to announce that I just finished reading Macarthur in under an hour. A personal best among those books less than a 100 pages thick that I’d endured. Yeah, I know, I’m a slow reader. Like I finished Twilight for almost a month, when almost everyone sped read it for what seemed like hours.

Macarthur is a very compelling, gut-wrenching, visceral tale of a group of friends under the influence of their illegal vices … and before this becomes a review, I should stop here. (But I’m just going to say this: When stuck with a 100-pesos budget I suggest purchasing Macarthur than indulging a Starbucks frap. Why? Because I did. And, I guess, you more likely won’t feel betrayed in the same situation.)

Rejoicing like some medieval jester, I mentioned this great accomplishment of mine to Lip Gloss, my sister, and she replied, with a smirk crossing her lip glossed lips, “I am also done with my New Moon.”

Just between you and me, right before I started Bob Ong’s Macarthur, I saw her flipping through page 1 of that book. With the TV on.

Oh how Edward Cullen mystify and entrance his readers!

***
“I promise that I won’t read, or even touch, that New Moon.”

That’s the vow that I made to myself after cringing my way through the first book.

In all fairness it started off fine, in a Cinderella, Someday My Prince Will Come, way. I was even waving the book in the face of Lip Gloss, in a manner as to say she would totally dig it, but expressed no interest whatsoever.

Eddie Cullen’s confession that “(she) is exactly (his) brand of heroin” definitely added cheese, but still I trudged on. I guess those moments of “I won’t leave you forever” did it. Because after that, I had to drink coffee more than I used to in order to make it, crawling, to the finish line.

Then came the buzz for the movie, then the movie premiere, and then everyone watched it (even those who haven’t read the book, which includes Lip Gloss).

Suddenly the household couldn’t get enough of Eddie Cullen (or Bellie Swan, for boys tortured by their girlfriends to also appreciate the “essence” of the book). Barf. Lip Gloss, as I had told, just finished New Moon, and was begging mom to buy the third one for her. Richard XXX, who happens to be my brother and who turns to ashes when you offer him something to read, was actually holding – and reading! – the Twilight book. Shock of the year.

Now unless if I see my mom getting in the act of indulging this stuff of vampires falling madly in love with humans, I am going to stick with what I had promised. Oh wait, I think she just did.

Jeez, January

PICTURE: She's Paula Goodspeed, one of the biggest fans of Paula Abdul. One of the millions who believe that through American Idol they can be someone. When she auditioned, she was rejected, also by Abdul. Later she would commit suicide in front of the home of her idol.

***
And before you know it, 2008 and the last of the chicken wings just disappeared before your very eyes.

Here comes January with its promises of great changes for the year ahead.

I don’t know about you, but for me, January is the month … when television resurrects itself. December is always the “recap” month. Nothing fresh. And like all Decembers, this past month nothing good was on. Unless you dig 1,000 hours of reruns. Or perhaps some Luna Mystika or Eva Fonda for a change.

Two things which I am certainly looking forward to:
1.) Being a huge tennis fan, the new year means an immediate start of play. Just as November is to the NBA, July is to the EPL (English Premier League – Duh, football), and, uh – golf never seems to end – January is a pretty logical starting point for tennis. The talking point of tennis right now – the heated rivalry between the top-ranked male players, Nadal and Federer – will be placed under the test right after all the firecrackers in the world have been used up. That which will be held in Abu Dhabi. But unfortunately may not be televised here. So onto mid-January with the first grand slam of the season, the Australian Open. With the live telecasts just being appropriate for my schedule. (When I get home, Nadal, Federer, Ivanovic, Sharapova or the Williams sisters will most likely be playing. Cool.)
2.) The return of the guilty pleasure of all guilty pleasures – American Idol, one of the insane reality shows that tries hard to be sane. New format, new judge, new David Cook-level contestants (demigods), and new stupid weirdos which we expect will once again hound our brain cells for their fifteen minutes of shame. But, let’s admit it, lunches are going to be propelled out of our nostrils. Tsk, tsk, tsk.

***
While typing this I looked toward the corner where all of my mandatory reading materials were stacked. Quite the tall tower already.

The Of Which I Prefer Absolutely Anything Else, Even A Day Of Luna Mystika Torture, Than To Worry Of Them list:
1.) Listening exams
2.) How am I supposed to run to UST from UP and back in a span of just three hours … that considering the traffic that has no end.
3.) Three required attendance to concerts: where, when, who will perform, and how much!
4.) Poetry interpretations (just when you think reciting The Lord’s Prayer in Old English is already difficult, wait until you get to witness T.S. Eliot in his prime)
5.) And <*TANA-NANAN-TANAN*> Longinus’ tackling "on the sublime" (“Purposiveness without purpose” – Yeah, baby, yeah! “Excessive concision of expression” – Ha, ha … ano daw? “Speaking in the way of precept …” – OK, Keri pa. “Asyndeton, anaphora, diatyposis” – (*epileptic seizures*))

The realization has just set in. I think my retinas have stopped functioning.

Yuletide Greetings

PICTURE: From Hong Kong last year: "The festive spirit be with you all!"

***
You know Twilight isn't that good. Now this?!

One big piece of m***********: Click it ... or click it.

***
Yaya ... eeegaaad, my depressants, quick! I just heard from the Kapamilya news that my favorite Twilight will be ... NOOOOOOO!!!

Okay Angelina: quick! ... Here you go.

Hooo. Thank you Yaya. You're still a loser, by the way.

I know, I know. I'm such a loser.

Oh guys, there you are. Uh, uh, he, he, don't believe those things you see on TV, okay. They're not true. They just make things - and me - look bad, even if they're really not. I'm really an angel sent by Angel Gabriel to this earth. Right, Yaya?

(Angelina holds the only picture of Yaya with his boyfriend on one hand, a lighter on the other.)

Yes Angelina, you're an angel sent by Angel Galadriel to this earth.

Thank you again, Yaya.

Christmas is the season of giving, as they say. It's better to give than to receive. Take it from me: I'm going to give to a chosen charity my Dora The Explorer key chain. I'm so excited ... Aunt Delphine said she will arrive later with my iPhone, with Dora The Explorer as its customized skin! How cool is that!

But you know what sometimes, I actually envy Yaya. She has a boyfriend - even if she always tells it's only her friend. Well people say that, during Christmas, when somebody bathes you with love, your holidays won't be that cold. I don't feel my Mama's love and affection ... it's always Yaya and I. Yaya and I weekly ... (huhu). Well I hope Yaya rubs all of that loving to me later. She doesn't know this, but I've got a present for her. (See, I'm a good girl!) It's something I especially cooked up for her this Christmas - a fruitcake which I've added with something powdery.

Christmas is really here. Its nature is infectious; everybody gets in the act of giving. My neighbor drug dealer just gave me earlier a present. It's enclosed in plastic and he told me it's yummy. Now isn't that sweet of him. Since this is Christmas I want to share to Yaya this delectable treat. And so I've sprinkled some on her fruitcake.

***
Aw, isn't that nice.

Before Angelina gets all preachy, I want to greet everybody a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! If you can't understand English yet, Maligayang Pasko at Manigong Bagong Taon! If by chance, you came all the way from Paris, Joyeux Noel et une Heureux Nouvelle Anée! If you're the click-all-the-way type, and with the probability of 1/4,000, you're a Spanish blogger that stumbled upon this blog entry, then Feliz Navidad y Prospero Año Nuevo! Now if you don't apply to what I had said, and you still don't to the other possible 6,912, qosRaj botIvjaj!