sour, sweet, gone- the slogan of sourpatch kids (candy)... sweet moments... sad moments...
tiramisu- the coffee liquor is not so pungent, melts in your mouth (not sticky way)... like angel cake but not so spongy... it instantaneously disappear (like being beamed up in one of those startrek spaceship) once inside your mouth.. but the sweetness lingers a bit longer...
canolli/cannoli/cannolli- the creme is more buttery than sugary... not as sweet as it looks, on a crispy pastry shell...
cancer- not so sweet
getting to the elevator.... she hears a "psst"... turns around, so you're visiting too... he remarks "only noypis respond to that", he chuckles...
white corridors... pictures on the walls... Renior's depiction of mother and child...pretty quiet... beep beep beep of monitors... relief...
everybody's waiting in limbo, in a room wedged between the patient's room and the central station of the nurses and their wide-screened planner/schedules of rounds/duty etc....
someone says "long time no see" she nods... she glances a theatrical face puckering... jokes.. chit chat... "let's see him"... she stays put, not budging but it's sad she finally got up...
she enters... he's watching baseball, his face very relaxed... this is the second time he's been in the hospital (the first time when he was a child)... "the pirates are doing well this season..." she hugs herself, a little chilly... she fidgets with her hands
"yeah, I think they're ranked 2nd this year... is it hot outside?"
"definitely, and it's supposed to rain this Friday... are you okay? everything went well?"
her eyes locked to the woman passing outside the room, her pouty lips almost convulsing, wanting to break her silence contradicting her loud glaring eyes... then the woman was gone
"visiting hours will soon be over" says the nurse
she says "ok I'll see you then, take care..."
"thanks for coming..."
"no problem..." she walks away, passes the laughter (lady godiva), picks up a booklet on colostomy, and goes straight to the elevator...
"hey wait for us, hold the elevator, we're a big group," someone shouts.
she holds the elevator, waits, and opens the booklet...
Insurance is a funny thing... the bad ones know when one's coverage expires... sometimes not even finishing the year whether fiscal or the technical year... sometimes slow on providing service... the good ones will cover one's back immediately (having the operation right away instead of waiting two days like the lady...
met with friends,
went to city,
windy, trashcan blown away rolling in the middle of the street
met more people, went to get c-books, ate burgers-- candid talks about Masaya's relationship and humpty dumty
headless bird, another bird frozen dropped dead
talked about corrupt officials and city
invisible act, not even trying, just stand there and people will just pass by
walking in a row, a good student who does his work
watched a movie (zodiac--> pacing slow, there were funny moments- jokes makes audience forget it's a murderer out there, some of the characters seem stupid or really carefree)
dark, got colder, and windier
took subway, disbanded, the three remain journey to south P.
walked two or three blocks- to a friend of a friend's house-
bought snacks, begin, candy, chips, drawing, deep tv issues, more c-book discussion, convincing of reading this and that, marvel vs. dc, smoke M., verbal gesticulation, sound, you're quiet, break the silence
women and bad roommates, keeping voice down, from pittsburgh- farm, 19 years old with own apartment a ba in acting want to go to grad school for directing- only the best and work with the best, heard of the hill, sometimes sounds angry (dichotomic personality but not, interesting stories bark, meow potatoes, more cold, bus stop, earlier talked about baghdad, animals and alienation
inside, they reminisced about drinking
self picturing them, what it would be like, --wasn't there to share their secret
taxi ride- fare not split in the middle- deserted empty avenue of the arts, orange lamp lights
2 in the morning, light still on, they didn't stay up to wait-- relieved
had fun... they walked on into their worlds, he retreated to his- pictures and rules nobody follows, he has to adapt without going bonkers
she owes god and herself for years of leeching energy from others and satiating their whims,
she has to be nicer to herself and be more forgiving of herself...
he worries about using his credit card, he has just purschased a $500 school ring then he heard about his lesbian sister who just bought a $5000 engagement ring for her soon to be fiance...
when he asked her about the amount, she said, "hey one of my friend spent $15,000 for his engagement ring,
reminscing about college days when after getting out of jeep- the jeep is fast almost falling off,
encounters with pick-pocketers- seeing in front of me, i don't want to be a victim so I walk ahead -if I try to stop him he might pick on me,
then one time he tried grabbing my watch- it was new so I played tug with him- not really thinking about my life, i thought I put my money in the make-up bag, he tried to grab my make -up bag, i fell on the ground-- funny now but it makes my heart beat faster, pretending to faint so the guy will run away...
your lineage will improve, she's marrying a mestizo
engineer said "so you're course is english, does that mean you can speak good english now, you can become a journalist" ---> the arts and humanities because it doesn't make "quick" and "stable" and "for sure" money are the butt of jokes
filipinos are hard working, proud
they're touchy, they rather have their money rot in the bank than invest it, government's corrupt, the stars are the worst especially the old family,
filipino mentality- impress with foreigners- speak a little english here and there especially to the people in the higher ups-- wow
america's education system is top notch, the court system is good because there is one
"why should i know the answer? I'm not filipino" ---> the context: filipino talking about the answer to a filipino trivia question
there is a paradox, when i went to the philippines I saw pride in being filipino, my cousins joked about it, i saw it in the cultural events i went and the university i visited- especially in the institution directly link with education, my dad who sees the potential in the future of the philippnes, who prides hard working ethics of filipinoes seem to figure out filipinos-- donate money here, impress them with credentials of 'otherness' foreign exotic-- irony, may sound manipulative, but his vision/hope to educate filipinoes- share experience which may inspire them to better themselves and achieve something with their life- to be the future of Philippines is inspiring
every creation of God has its own unique beauty
filipinoes shouldn't be excluded from this,
teach them and show them the beauty of their filipinoness (not because of their light skin or straight noses and otherness- but because they work hard, they laugh/have humor, don't give up/support family, they're expressive (singing/dancing), openness to other culture - cons- to mingle and improve lineage through mixing with 'good' blood, pros- to learn about other cultures, learn from them, adapt what works and improve-- some filipinoes over time have become lighter and their nose straighter because of what their ancestors did, they have advantages, but they still have their humor about them, take a dark filipino with flat nose and you'll see that he is similar to the lighter one (the differences may be his skin tone)...
church-- > the fabric back drop is different, noticed the faux drawings of marble markings, more latin songs, new altar servers inducted...
Jazz concert (Westmoreland Art Museum)
Jazz Band in Cecillian
Student Directed Plays
Senior Art Exhibit
Art Fair (Pitt-Greensburg)
He had two more shots left, what would it be? Whatever it was, he was going to use it wisely. He brought an extra roll so he had back up....
"Okay smile, hold on, I'm trying to focus it," he said.
"What's taking so long, we're freezing our asses off, hurry up!" They rubbed their arms together. Their heads darted in different directions. They were in an island in between two 3 lane roads. Yellow taxicabs and Buses past by. Once in a while tricycle pedaled by a woman trailed after them. A cop on a horse stood in the corner. At the horse's end, memories of lunch piled on the pavement.
He took the shots. That was funny, he thought. He had taken 24 shots, and his camera could still be rewinded. Maybe this was one of those films with extra shots. What a luck, he could take more pictures.
All of them (him and they) continued to walk down the street. They past 34th street, they were one their way to 42nd street. Billboard lights glowed in red. Film of waves crashed. Lights chased each other, A picture within picture flashed one after the other.
He took pictures of the giant cup of noodles, which was steamless. He stopped by starbucks and ordered a Caramel Frap. The clerk asked his name. He said Mark. They walked and took more pictures. Now he got more suspicious.
He reached his 30th shot, and his camera was still rolling away. He tried rewinding it, but the film was not hooking itself. Maybe he did it wrong. If he opened it without rewinding it, he might expose the picture he'd taken from a previous trip down in southern Alabama. But if he couldn't find out, he'd missed out oppurtunities he could face today. He decided to live in the present.
He opened the camera. To his relief, the pictures weren't exposed. To his dismay, the pictures he thought he captured were gone. All the memories, the documentaion of a week full of moments, gone. What was he going to do?
The pictures that captured Birmingham no logner existed. Years from now, would he remembered that grueling week? Leaving at 5;45 am before sunrise to drive a 13 hour drive just to get there by 7pm. feeling the weather get warmer as he and his roomies got closer to the equator. As temperature rose, they took an article of clothing off, such as a scarf ora pair gloves. Grass became greener. Oldiies music turned to the music of the 70s, 80s, early 90s to western country finally to the buzz of a raido out of reach of civilization (time to pop in a cd).
Would he rememeber, the painterly abstraction of the winged Samothrace, the steel buns of god of the forge, Vulcan- whos spear point to the moon, or the morning star of Venus, singing "kareoke style" in the van while cruisng from the ghetto to the rich, to the middle class, to rural areas, or seeing from Vulcan park, the city below, surround by mountains that started as the small rolling hill of Tennesse, or the Baptist church at every corner like the Starbucks in New York city....
How about the people? Allison with her red baseball cap, with inscription under her hat. She said her friend wrote it believing that they were soulmates. She had a tatto on the back of her neck, chinese symbol, he gorgot to ask her. The kumbaya-like group singing christian songs, the dancing of the irish jig or the charleston, the vibrato of "off white" and the seven dwarfs...
The reflections, the ghetto house they stayed in with its brown tarp as walls, the cooking (homemade) especially the midnight breakfast, his group did on their last day their, 30 minute mall (arriving near closing time, rushing to find a magnet, something to hold on to....
The work? The foundation, assembly-line cider block carrier, applying thoroughseal for the foundations, with every stroke of the concrete-soaked brush got heavier, building a shed, a miniature version of the house minus plumbing, building the "tress", making sure they're all flushed and not 'caddywompus', nailing, hammering, measuring, putting the sidings....
The group pictures, he remembered taking two just in case, now it seemed futile.
"Mark, hurry up, let's go!" They continued walking, they were now in 40th street.
"Hold on, I'm putting new film." He would just make new memories, and hoped that he would remember Birmingham...
if you didn't know already, i'm going to be the Griffin this year along with Stephanie...i've always wanted to be a mascot, plus i get behind the scene of 'cheer' world...so literally i'm going 'under-cover'...this fall for the Setonian (campus newspaper)...
i'm going to propose to Ann, our chief editor if I could write something that would deal with being a mascot- it would be a mix of humor, mascot "secrets" and a little bit like a sports news story (but not totally).
today was our first day in 'cheer' camp...the experience was more like hell rather than a cheery rendezvous with dancing gymnists. It started at 9 am and it ended at 5pm (we had plenty of water breaks in between before and after our big lunch break at 1).
first we learned some cheer terminology like 'high' V and its mirror opposite 'low' V, there's the "T" and the "broken T" and many more...aside from the alphabet, I learned the difference between a clap and a clasp...
This was followed with chants, a little bit of choreography and jumps (toe touch which is a misnomer, the hurdles not the 'herkie' and the 'pike' jump, don't mistake these for new types of margarita).
a giddy and ebulient cheer squad wouldn't be the same without team bonding - introduction, mini-games (squirrels and nuts) and untying human knots.
Then came the time for dangerous stunts like basket case toss and lifts, base (front and back and main) and flyers were all aware of the situation of accidents. Lucky for us mascots, we didn't have to worry about stunts.
Before the finally, we did push ups, isometric movements with the upper shoulders and maybe biceps, some ab workouts and lunges.
for the finally, we learned a dance choreography (tons of 8 beat counts- really fast) to a hyper dance remix of Gwen Stefani's "Holla back Girl"...we set personal and team goals and called it a day...
What i originally thought of as a three hour morning camp turned into a day of sweating under heat-cumulating cumulus clouds...I definitely did my workout for today...tomorrow's another day...
After being in the United States for 12 years, I'm finally an American Citizen. Why 12 years you might ask, well I was waiting for the right time.
I consulted with my astrologist and made sure that the stars were properly aligned and also with my fortune teller to see if today was auspicious. Would you believe me if I were to say that I applied sometime at the beginning of the 2nd semester and I received a letter from INS a couples of weeks later stating that I would hear from them within 6 months (between Feb and July).
It would be ideal if my parents became citizens before I turned 18 so I would "automatically" become one. But things were always inhibiting them- mainly money. It took a great deal of money just to renew four green cards, imagine how much it would take to pay for the INS application fee (for three adults at least less than $1000 total). $1000 was not that dispensible in my household, especially since credit card bills, tuitions and supporting other family members were on top of the "priority list."
So fellow bloggers, I implore this question,: What constitues being an American? Is it a piece of paper that states one's "Americanhood," is it the color of your passport or the label of citizenship- American? What is an American?
So after waiting for 12 years to apply, less than 6 months to set up an interview and probably 2 months until I attend an official ceremony inducting me American Citizenship, I would "technically" become American.
Today I attended my interview at 10:40 a.m., I waiting 40 minutes until my name was called. My interview lasted less than 5 minutes. The INS officer asked me to tell the truth, restate my address, sign and print my name on the lines specified, and told me to write "I love this country." She then asked me if I knew Martin Luther King Jr, what the thirteen stripes represented in the flag, and what was the capital of PA. She handed me a piece of paper that stated my passing the interview, she told me about the letter that would arrive in the future telling where and when the ceremony will take place. She asked me if I had any questions. After this, I was done. She told me that the exit was to left of her office.
I passed the interview, and now I'm "waiting" again for that letter, which would approximately arrive before July. I'm somewhat of an American citizen, I'm just waiting for the "official" ceremony.
set: green chairs, american flag, picture of statue of liberty
two doors one on each side
main character: Mika Vicoli
sits in chair
flashes back to past (transitions)
Mother braiding hair of little girl
Father giving candy to son
Baby girls of a different ethnicity waving goodbye to another
A black woman approached Mika to ask to see if she could borrow the study sheet
Mika hears different languages tagalog from behind, spanish to her right, italian to her front, An African language mixed with french to her left
MDQ: What constitutes being American?
white blossoms, white petals falling like snow of sprinkled sugar on chocolate earth
playful twittering of birds
gliding in the air like torpedoe-like seels
grass sway like ripples of wavelets
incoming cars like gales of wind
rustling of leaves and branches like gentle hissing sea spray
creaking of branches like door hinges or rickety swing sets
cartwheeling brown leaves of autumn scurrying like copper chipmunks
clouds changing, form ethereal composition--nature's own "happening's"
blue jays calling out to the sea of the sky like bell buoys
rugged mountain brownish-reddish iced with snow on the rough edges
in a highway, there's signs going to Moscow
i'm in a "philippine" tricycle _ my aunt is driving, behind her is Elbert pointing the direction, then Ate Lheng (sitting sideways) me at the end, inside the "travel along" cubicle I assumed were the Katigbak kids
there were aliens who looked like humans, but you can tell they were different, they wore gloves---> they were wearing saint patrick hats and their ring finger print was green---> one of them decided to rob a bank
moon jutting in the clear sky
city's lights not enough to block Orion's belt
Moon hanging like a sagging shirt tail behind a person's back
His wizened face squints in jealousy at the youth, then he smirks at the thought of what the youth lacks: experience. Time is relative.
50 years old, FOB, lived all his life in an island off the coast of the Amazons
Now lives in Camelotville U.S.A, he stares out of the window through dusty blinds from his carpeted room, he returns to his mini glass table and continues to play Solitaire, he hopes to find a JOB...
he sits there eating his Lumpia, he takes a bite off it, the Mang Thomas sauce melts in his mouth, he tastes the sweetened and honeyed vinegar, he hears Stevenson's whispered voice recapitulating a questionable past. Stevenson suddenly gets up and reenacts a story with his squirming face, one of his arm is straight in a shooting position and his whole body slowly backs to the corner. Stevenson's story ends, he laughs and sits right back on his chair. Stevenson's audience munches his Lumpia.
Velma and Corinthian
Rudy and Roselin
The Manhattan Maids
So what are you studying again?
Creative writing...it's like English, just with an emphasis on writing.
So you want to be a writer?
Well...um...I would like to work in this field.
I thought you were going to be a doctor.
Um...I don't really like science that much.
What is this concept of cold you speak of?
40 year something rebelling because everything is given to him, don't know the hardships, takes advantage of position, starts picking up vices such as drinking and gambling (poker, horse racing, lottery)... other people's advice, just thin air passing through one ear to another... sometimes lacks diplomacy/tact...