Putting holes in your possesions

I still have the bites from the blasted termite attack last weekend. They were two minuscule points on my left index finger, and one on my right arm. But the termites did more than bite me, they destroyed one of my most beloved possessions; my dictionary.

Yes, I had a dictionary. And no, it was not that pocket sized one. It was that big, heavy, red, Webster’s 1999 Edition of a dictionary. It was my buffer during my spelling days. It was my security check. It was part of me.

Then, to my dismay (happiness for others), I discovered that the edges touching the wall had been eaten away by the blasted termites living below my cabinet. They must have sense the great importance of this book and they played par of destroying it beautifully.

It was hardbound and had that antique feel to it. Now, it looks more antique since it had holes in places it shouldn’t have and had ruined edges thinking it was being battered from use. Certainly it was not such. I took a great deal in using it carefully and only now did I fail of that mission.

Lifting it from its place on the corner, I was speechless. I did not know what to do. This was a very important book and my mind could not think of a better solution to relieve the book of its parasitic guests. I was also afraid of the reactions of my parents who had invested so much in buying me this piece of Webster. I was stumped.

I went back downstairs and asked for some gas. Gas will surely kill these blokes. I was in a you-murdered-my-things-then-you-will-die-too mode. After sweeping them (the termites) into a plastic bag, I had discovered that my envelopes of certificates, documents, warranties, art materials, artworks, and memorabilia were also visited by my cellulose-eating friends.

Certificates of attendance, certificates of participation, certificates of winning, sketches, and even the cd installer of my laptop were victimized. All had these burnt-edges look like what I do to my projects in high school back then. All were eaten, some halfway, others fully. They spared some but the certificates hold that mark “termites of the Iloilo” were here. Sh*t.

Putting myself together, I decided to separate those who are still usable and dump them at my bed and the rest who were ‘victimized’ are chucked in a bin in the form of an SM plastic bag.

And there was another discovery. The books on the right side corner of the tabletop were also inhabited by the freaking termites. I was close to bawling by that time. I was infuriated. Picking up the books, I saw my old English book. I took it and scanned. All of the pages were holed-out. This was one of the most memorable textbooks I had from my high school days. The termites just transformed it into target practice. It included amongst the ruined materials were the workbooks of my sister whom I would be using next year. Since, the beautiful termites, promoted it to indecipherable blotches, I threw it amongst the garbage.

I almost panicked when the book on WORK which I bought by my money at NBS was on the other side. Luckily, it was not harmed. Only a little dirt, nothing more, nothing less. Phew.

After wiping the surface of the cabinet and tabletop with gasoline, and after four plastic bags full of unusable materials, I was left with half of what was actually there.

I did not throw out the dictionary. It was still usable though it looks like pellets got through it.

So what was the lesson? Make sure there are no termites underneath your floor. Make sure. Or else never put something important and leave it there for a couple of weeks. That was my mistake. My big mistake. In a few weeks time, what my parents and I had earned for many years were reduced to moist, holed, pulp. I never thought that would be so fast.

After the incident, I took on some advice on hoe to keep my books. Nang Adel said I should use plastic containers since termites do not go through, Nang Janice said I should cover the tabletop and cabinet top with plastic wrap. Plastic was the only solution yet I did not thought of doing that in the first place.

I wish they would never com back (the termites, I mean). I am going to be very mean to them if they do./KP

The Missing Prince

Last night, I just wasted a hundred and twenty pesos watching this movie. You say it's an epic. I say it is murder.


Killing Rowling

The sixth book installment of Harry's growth to manhood is probably the most important part of the seven-book series. However pretty and fascinating Dumbledore's spell at the lake or the performance of Helena Bonham Carter as Bellatrix the movie did not epitomize or just summarize the entire 600+ paged book. Some chapters were ahead of the others. It is insufficiently supplied with important details and book order was slightly not followed leaving a trail of confusion to the avid reader's of Rowling watching Yates' interpretation.


Missing the finer points in Harry's Life

The movie completely diverted the story to Harry and Dumbledore from the Half-Blood Prince. Limelight was stolen and I hate it. Instead of sticking to the book that the story is dicovering the Half-Blood Prince, it is diverted more to Harry and Albus. The movie also misses the important details such as the 'Room of Requirement Scene of Harry and Ginny' wherein there should be a focus on the tiara slash diadem that is important in part 7 of the book installment. The death of Dumbledore was also not delivered well. The drop was not as compelling as in the book and the chaing of Snape was poorly directed. It was too short being Snape, the story-leader of the entire book.


Not Funny, not sad, nothing

Though the movie makes it humorous, the over-all impact was too much cheese on the macaroni. Malfoy was not too much panicky as what I expect him to be. He should be superflously wetting his pants by this movie. Snape was not Snape in this movie. He is somewhat a little less sublte than he usually is and THAT is weird. Jim Broadbent is not the best Slighorn yet. He was not what I imagined he would be. McLaggen is on the same boat. Not too cocky. I need that cocky bully in the book at that movie. Romilda Vane was just a pluff of a role in the movie, what happened. He should be a total flirt just like Lavender.

Synthesis

As usual, the antagonist is always the good actor. The child Tom was totally tops for me. Fenir and Helena were good in their roles. The story however was poorly directed and the director of photography should be sued for not making it as 'epic-er' than the fifth installment. The movie was mediocre. Not what I (and some people I know) expect. And the most important scene of the book, The White Tomb chapter was completely obliterated. How bad of them. In the end, I rate this movie 6 out of ten.

By the way, the quidditch scene is still the best scene.

What I had Waited for

Yes, I had watched it. Eternally waiting for the ticket prices to go down, I managed to slip a seat in the movie theater to watch my most awaited and anticipated movie; Transformers Revenge of the Fallen.

And I almost fell off my seat watching it. This is the side effect of watching a movie with great sound effects in a Dolby digital-surround movie theater.

In general, as I would analyze (to think I am not a critic) the film.
Sound Effects: 10 stars
Visual Effects: 11 stars
Photography: 9 stars
Storyline: 8 stars
Transitions: 8 stars

It did not let me down as an enthusiast. However, it was very short, too short for my liking. I was heavily gripping my seat when all of the sudden the antagonist dies.

Bitin.

I want more. And I will hopefully have it.

If (I was one of) the producers of Shia's film, (I would) think of the prospected sales and future income. I would not hesitate to make another part three of this epic.

EPIC.
Super. Epic. Movie.
Much more than that Harry Potter hullabaloo.

By the way, I am also saving for Harry Potter6.

The prince

I proudly admit that I am a very good liar. I could be crowned as a prince in this profession, but sadly I will abdicate my right to the throne and my prince-hood. I’ve had enough of my crap. I was so crappy that it would look like I have the case of craps and herpes along with it.

We often ask this question to ourselves, “Why do I need to lie?”

For me, the answer would be protection. Concealment.

I lie because I want to hide something. I lie because I am afraid that people might know I conceal things. I lie because I am ashamed. I lie because I want to protect my identity that I ‘established’ for the past sixteen years of my life. I lie because this is a habit. I lie because this is me.

And I want to end this right now. I don’t want that one day that my identity will only be one big lie. Today, it’s just less than a twenty fourth of who I am, but I want it to stop growing. I want it to end.

But you say you can’t. Yes, it is really hard not to stop lying. But I need to. We need to.

Yes it involves you, dear reader and I know you lie. Much less than me, but I know once in your life you did so. If not, then you shouldn’t be reading this, you should be in heaven with Simon and his chicken.

Setting the old man and the poor chicken aside, I say that reformation is the hardest when it involves public humiliation. Yes I had long known that lying is bad a stupid thing (very stupid) to do, yet, as what all humanists say we are all human and we make mistakes. But lying involves people, and going back to your lies and admitting that you reformatted some data on your life story is such a humiliating tale to tell.

Yet, as liars, we need to. We will do it.

Call me a reformist but I want to change the world ladies and gentlemen.

I am Sick

That summarizes everything in this post, ladies and gentlemen. I, Kit Pabiona, 17 is officially sick, groggy, feverish, choleric or whatever you may call a sick person. I have a magma-level fever and sore throat.

Last Friday was our Acquaintance Party at the manor and we kind of went over the top. Disco started about eleven and ended at 1am. We went hope 1am. That's one factor.

I woke up at 8 in the morning to help tatay with his presentation (tatay isn't techie okay?) It was raining as hell and we had to run out to the rain to eat for lunch. Tatay never brings an umbrella, we never do.

What I did was stupid, very stupid. And all of those things contributed to my ailment right now. I feel like my head is going to explode, and that I have this hydrocephalic cortex bobbing as my head.

So what did I do? Local traditions say you have to 'sweat your way' out of the fever. I took a bath. Then I used water therapy. Pero bakit super sakit parin ang ulo ko?

Is this punishment? Maybe yes or no. But whatever it is, please bear with my pain./KP

The new dogma

It is not of chance but of destiny. It is not on their decision but yours. It is you and the universe.

Earlier this June, there was a sudden drop in the returning students of our section and our major. From thirty plus, we plummeted to twenty nine. From eighteen in our major, we dropped down to a dozen.

A dozen eggs to be incubated.

Why did this happen? Most of my co-course students stopped because of financial upheaval and tardiness. Some shifted to their loved and should be courses. So what is the significant impact on that to us?

We are all alone. Naks. No, we are so small as a major group. Most of us prefer that we are large in group (including me) and it was a shock for us on our first major class that we are just twelve in the room. With this number invisibly plastered on our forehead, we are now obligated, and promulgated to be still and resilient against temptations of shifting and being lesser kinds of students.

This is our new dogma, to finish the course as twelve, to pass the board examination as twelve, and to live this course as twelve learners and future teachers./KP

Verbosity

Returning to the old

It's has been a month since the university days had started and I still got the summer hang-over. Avoiding it and inhibiting it would only worsen my situation so I am still hanging loose at my classes. I need to stop it and I will. But maybe somewhere in July na lang.


Rolling Over

The screening is over and we are all on fours groping for something to hold on as we check their papers. Well, you cannot expect Palanca-like entries on time like this, but this is far than what I expected. Yes, I know I am not a holder of an MA in Creative Writing to adjudge someone like this but trust me, you'll fall of your seats when you try reading their entries. Some are quite absurd, literal, and thought-less. Much worse are those whom you would expect to have straight grammar but instead are more back lashed than the freshmen.

Guts will do you everything, but this time, quality writing comes first.

Reaping Points

I was blessed. Definitely, truly and wholly blessed to have a 63-year old professor to be my mentor this semester. I am blessed to have all of them. Truly this semester, I had the 'best's' of my field. I just hope I met their standards. They are all interesting and challenging. Very challenging. With the twelve of us, I hope no one gives up on them. Isang dosena na lang kami, mawawalan pa?/KP