9 QUESTIONS TO 2009: WHY I NOTICE EVERYTHING [an away a day year-ender special]

"2008 will rock," a friend once said.

And indeed, it did. At least for this blog and for whatever purpose it wanted to serve. I have had so much fun putting together things and stories, all for our amusement. From gigster caps to shemaghs, douchebags to ang pinakamababang uri ng tao, from Starbucks Katipunan to KLCC Airport…and to cyberspace. True enough, this blog has somewhat served its purpose—I have vented out excess angst and laughed heartily along the way. Knowing that my persona has been unburdened by several angry and sarcastic posts, makes my 2008 rock harder.

Here's to a year of pintasera moments.
Here's to another year of bitch fits.
And here's to me, because…

I NOTICE EVERYTHING.

Yes, I do. I may even surprise you, as I have the select few that have recently met me and have witnessed my "gift". They note, "Napapansin mo lahat, noh?" to which I candidly respond with a giggle and an "I know, right?" I am remarkably attentive to even the most mundane things that would easily go unnoticed by a normal person.

So…does that imply that I'm ABnormal? Maybe. But that's a totally different post right there.

Whether or not I am a child of normalcy is not the issue. What is, though, are certain questions, answers to which will explain why I tend to notice everything.



Question #1
Why is it that when I'm in class and the professor shoots a question at me, I will most likely miss out on the answer?

Answer
I have been distracted by a classmate's fishnet stockings and a sudden song stuck in my head (I made it through the wilderness, somehow I made it through, I didn't know how lost I was until I found you)



Question #2
Why is it that when a friend is telling me some story, that is, as most stories tend to, taking too long to finish, it is not far of a possibility that I will zone out and stare into space?

Answer
I am taking notice of something else, say, the cute guy whose view is conveniently located behind my friend's head.



Question #3
Why is it that when I'm walking down the street, even when I seem to be busy "not looking", I am looking?

Answer
I am actually analyzing the science of your wearing a horrendous pair of boots.

Question #4
Why is it that when I'm in my ride to the office, rather than getting on with a nap, I'd look out the window? Or when I'm eating in a good restaurant, rather than getting on with my meal, I'd stop chewing food and stare at you just to mock you?

Answer
You are wearing a stupid scarf, the cultural meaning of which you have half an idea of.

Inevitably, I will go, "Pre, bakit? Malamig ba? Feeling mo ba may winter dito sa Pilipinas?"



Question #5
Why is it that when I'm boarding the plane, instead of just getting to my seat, I take my time looking at you?

Answers

1. I am caught off guard by your hideous Indiana Jones hat and the bald white guy you are with (which makes me ask the question, "What kind of BUSINESS is this girl into?")

2. I am utterly irked by your wearing a gigster cap

Question #6

Why is it that while in the airport, I might be on my way to the carousel to get my bag, but I will be stalled on my way by the sight of you?

Answers

1. You are wearing a blanket as a cape? (Superman, isdatchu?)
2. Your girlfriend thinks that cowboy hats have made its way back to the fashion mainstream

Question #7
Why is it that while hearing mass, I might look like I'm in deep reflection, but really, I'm reflecting on something miles away from spiritual enlightenment?

Answer
You're wearing a pair of sandals which is so typically jologs.

Question #8
Why is it that while in the mall, rather than busying myself with the ongoing sale, I'm more interested in looking around and staring at you?

Answers

1. You are an idiot whose outfit was inspired by a watermelon
2. The girl next to you has a ridiculous fashion ensemble

Question #9
Why is it that even while I surf the net, instead of keeping to news and current affairs sites, I am more interested in googling random things for a chance to INADVERTENTLY stumble upon your Friendster account?

Answers

1. Your barkada picture gives me sheer joy. It makes me want to listen to the Tagalog version of Low. Or the Tagalog version of Umbrella. Or just any Salbakuta song.
   

2. I love it that you are friends with celebrities.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

A Dancer and an Archer-Hater in Starbucks

I actually have more interesting things to rant about than this, but the timeliness of relaying this story is vital. This story may go untold for just a week and the humor in it could already diminish significantly, by then.

This is my story.

In an attempt to distance myself as far away as I can from my bed and to avoid giving in, yet again, to one of my notorious slumbers, I packed my trusty messenger bag and went to Starbucks Katipunan to study.

When I got there, the most familiar ambience greeted me: the place was not so jam-packed (as it WAS a Saturday night after all, only a geek like me would rather spend time catching up on lessons I've lagged behind from than, I don't know, doing some thing more un-geeky), it was filled with people who are familiar yet I haven't met, and it was reeking of a signature smell, the type that clings on to your clothes, of a mixture of both burning cigarettes and brewing coffee. I look around one more time and say to myself, "Ahh, yes, Starbucks. I'm back," not in a contented and subtly jubilant manner so much as it was just an acknowledgment of that reality.

In any case, there has never been a good reason behind my being in Starbucks, for the past year at least. I go, very rarely to hangout, but more often to study. And that, my friends, I think, is never a good thing. Well, the nouveau geek that I am, I may make it sound like it's not as bad as I thought it would, mainly because for whatever reason it is that I am in Starbucks, one thing's for sure: I'm bound to find something interesting lurking around the establishment. And, as if on cue, two people worthy of MY anawayaday attention, came to close proximity.

STARBUCKS FIND #1 THE ARCHER HATER
Backgrounder: I was, yes, eavesdropping in the conversation of this group of four people. Although the main character was mostly enunciating everything, there were times their conversation simply became incomprehensible. But from what I gathered, they came from a party, the main character at least as she was dressed as if the themed party barfed on her, they were all ATENISTAS, and the main character has recently had an encounter with a LASALLISTA whom, I think, she likes (or not anymore) and who was flirting with her in some way.

ARCHER HATER: (talking about her Lasallista prospect) So, tinanong niya, "Always bang issue ang Ateneo-La Salle sa inyo?" Eh ako kasi nasanay ako na puro Atenista. Marinig ko pa lang na Lasallista ang tao, negative na agad! 'Pag Lasallista, iisipin ko agad [insert some incomprehensible talk], "Ang yabang!" Ang sama 'di ba? Pero, PUH-RUNG, ganun talaga 'ko lumaki.

Aww. Poor LASALLISTA. This ATENISTA does not and will not like you, ever. It's just too bad that you wear a green shirt on your back. She just sees you as, I don't know nor am I ultimately sure, someone not worthy of an ATENISTA.

To my mind, this LASALLISTA character the ARCHER-HATER is ranting about is as disturbing as the ARCHER-HATER herself. What kind of creep would ask if the Ateneo-La Salle thing will always be an issue? I think I've heard that one before. Oh, yes. In Pinoy Big Brother…TEEN EDITION! Say it with me…JUVENILE!!

All of a sudden, the topic shifts from the LASALLISTA PROSPECT GUY to the DLSU PEP SQUAD:

ARCHER HATER: …[I heard] Okay na ang pyramids nila…finally ba nag-improve na? For the longest time... [insert more incomprehensible talk]

Well, I couldn't blame ARCHER HATER for this one. Nakakahiya naman talaga ang Pep Squad ng La Salle (cue La Salle spelling cheered as A-L-S-A-L-L-E). A very valid point. Hands down.

Apart from her distinctively annoying enunciation, I wasn't that pissed off. I was just amused on how she was confidently proclaiming all her LASALLISTA bashing over at our side of Starbucks, completely unknowing that a green back was actually eavesdropping on their conversation. Hehehe. It was nice to be undercover. Nice and hilarious.

STARBUCKS FIND #2: THE DANCER (MARIBETH BICHARA, ISDATCHU??)
When I was done listening in to ARCHER HATER's conversation, I went back to studying. But as I decided to stretch my arms first before finally going back to business, I turned my head to my left and noticed a very interesting character. Not only was he blowing his nose oh so loudly quite often, he was also engaged in a physical activity not considered as conventional Starbucks behavior.

Author's tips in watching the video: #1 watch for the snap of the head (00:29) #2 wait for matching hand movements (00:52). And, yeah, I would like to apologize for the orientation of the video. I was recording with my phone and I had to do it in a way the guy would not notice that I was taping him. I have no idea how to change the orientation and rotate it. Well, for that matter, here's tip #3: tilt your head to the right.

Can't control those dancing feet (or head or hands) much? He must've been listening to one damn good dance song! I was utterly distracted every time he made those sudden movements in his corner…pero SHOCKS!!! PANALO!!!

There. My trip back to Starbucks was like hitting two birds with one stone. I got to study (which is not that great, though) AND I got back on the people-watching track. The geek in me is very satisfied.

Virtual People Watching: Makoy @ Close

The internet is one heck of a breakthrough, aint it? Ever since the world wide web phenomenon began, it has been so much easier to locate information that one needs. One click. Done.

I am most benefited by this advancement not because it takes me half the usual time to communicate with people or finish a research paper. I am advantaged by the internet because, above all, it sure makes finding something to laugh at a heck of a lot easier.

Virtual people-watching is something I do when I can't go some place and people-watch because: (a) i'm stuck in the office or (b) i'm just to lazy to. I go to google and search using a keyword that's a bit, how should i put it, pedestrian. A word that will obviously bring about search results that are ultra humorous.

A few weeks ago, i tried googling "tropa". After a couple of minutes of browsing through some of the 20,000+ results, i realized that i hit the jackpot. LOL would be an understatement. I will be sharing quite of the few hilarious things i found through google in my upcoming entries. But now, i will be focusing on one of the most amusing among my googled hidden treasures. Presenting: the personal webpage of Mark Anthony a.k.a. MAKOY.

At first, this guy's going to appear, well, okay. He even puts his credentials on his personal info portion. The SINGLE, CATHOLIC, TAURUS, DIGITAL GRAPHIC ARTIST, and ANIMATOR that is MAKOY. Ahhhh...Makoy.

Notice that there is no mention of his expertise in the english language. But, as I came to know Makoy better through his webpage, I understood why his proficiency in english was not among his astute credentials. One look at his banner will give it away.

Nope. This banner is not an email address, mind you. I think MAKOY had his english a bit screwed up. UP being the operative term. Think "up close and personal". Now, do you get it? Instead of "Makoy...UP close", our dear Makoy creatively puts it as "Makoy...AT close". Wahahahaha.

The facade of his webpage looks a bit harmless, really. Family and barkada pictures and all. But, again, Makoy's captions, which are incidentally in his NATIVE language (cue sarcasm), put him in hot waters.

But i guess i was properly forewarned:

LOL. This site really cracks me up. In fairness, though, his credentials and grades in college (yes, it was all there, complete with course code and number of units), but, of course, minus the grammatical milestones...are impressive.

Paparazzi

It has been established that I like to go people-watching. I like telling my friends of stories of the people I watch, even though I get pissed off by them. It could be held, therefore, that:

The people I watch when I people watch piss me off.
I love people watching.
I love pissing myself off.

Funny syllogism. It may be fallacious at some point, right? But hilarious, nonetheless.

So in celebration of this fallacy, I present to you a really amusing portion of this blog: PAPARAZZI.

This is where I'm going to post pictures and images of other strangers' unguarded moments, aside from the blow-by-blow narratives that I do provide, that I personally took or have personally taken, to help us all visualize whatever irritating thing I am talking about.

The pictures will be for two things: One, for our sheer enjoyment. Two, so that at least one of you will believe even a word I am saying. Evidence. Harharhar.

The things that I have paparazzied will be plastered all over my posts and I will just be labeling them with paparazzi so that we could all make reference to it more conveniently.

Here's to invading other people's privacy. Cheers.

Carrie, Charlotte, Samantha, & Miranda in Starbucks

I have found the chance to escape from office pressure and resume my Starbucks life. It's final examination season, anyway, and it's really time for me to hit the books.

As I was busying myself with matters of obligations and contracts, I notice four guys at the counter. At first glance, they didn't strike me as metros (metro sexuals) nor as anything out of the ordinary worth watching and exerting effort for. Two of them were wearing pambahay shirts. One looked as if he just got out of his bed. Another had his beer belly hanging over the waist-line of his cargo shorts, the kind with pull-strings at the end. I

At that point, nothing I noticed was typical or stereotypical of anything worth watching. At most, I remember asking myself why and how trashy people like them prefer Starbucks. They don't fit the description really.

That was until they stationed themselves at the four couches immediately next to my table and started talking.

Their frappucinos came and as they settled themselves, one of them suddenly spewed out, "I feel young when I'm in the south," in a familiar over-enthusiastic, almost all-knowing, pa-coño, effeminate, voice.

I look up from my book, took a glance over my left, and saw those four same guys in a whole new light. The one talking had his back against me so I couldn't see his face (thank God). I swear I saw at least one of them sipping a strawberries and cream frap. And there I had it, I was in the midst of four gay men who did not fit the gay stereotype physically, but were overqualified, audio-wise (and drink-wise).

This guy who started talking about his youth, explained his statement by going on with something like, "…I don't know because here," apparently referring to Parañaque as opposed to some northern Manila location he frequented, "there's less pressure. I could relax more," Yadda, yadda, yadda. These guys went from Piolos to Mojo Jojos. And in terms of Mojo Jojo himself, from level one gay to level five gay.

I found this guy laughable for one thing. He struck me as the type who was trying to impress people with his call-center brand of English. You know the kind. People who feel that they sound coño, but to the ears of others who actually know the difference between proper English and social-climbing English, they just sound foolish.

I often come across and get ticked off by people like gay guy number one. So I didn't really see the point of continuing to listen in his self-serving stories.

A few moments from the last disturbance from gay guy number one, I look up again from my book, because of what I heard, this time, gay guy number two say.

"I need a wallet. Maybe you guys should give me a wallet," said gay guy number to who sat across gay guy number one and whose face escapes my memory. Probably not so presentable, as it was forgettable, by my standards.

"Okay. We'll buy it from Penshoppe," said gay guys number three and four who were sitting to the left of one and two, nearer to me.

Two goes, "Eeew!" and some more statements condescending to the mentioned local brand. Ultimately, he was meaning that he'd rather be caught dead than caught keeping a wallet with a big Bench or Penshoppe logo stamped across the damn thing. "BEH-HENCH…PEH-HEN-SHOPPE…" He said, making his voice bigger and making hand gestures as he described how the big logos would appear on the supposedly icky wallet.

What does this guy think? That he's some socialite who only deserves signature handbags and wallets? (cue montage of DJ Montano)

They began to sound like the girls from Sex and the City who liked to talk about Guccis and Birkins. Problem was, Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda, and Samantha were in New York and were actually socialites, sexy, and hot. And gay guys one, two, three, and four were simply stuck in a Parañaque Starbucks (on a Saturday night), trying to sound socialite-ish, looking (and sounding) ghetto and cheap. They were everything but Sex and the City.

(in picture Charlotte, Carrie, Miranda, and Samantha)

Their laughs suddenly filled the air as all four of them found humor in the Bench/Penshoppe comment. Gay guy two suddenly gets a new idea for a witty comment and spews out, "McJim!" referring to a brand of leather wallets usually sold in bangketas, as gay guy number one put it, and in most mid- and low- end department stores. Alas, they broke into laughter again and all the more louder. Note that this seemingly hilarious episode came from a group of guys who came into Starbucks sporting the same thing they woke up in, brandishing an effortless out-of-bed 'do (naturally oily and spiky, mind you), and most probably wearing the same stench they woke up with.

Enter my two cents. Ano bang akala ng mga baklang ito? Na magaganda sila? Na if they do get LV or Coach wallets that it would look real on them? Eat shi*t, dearies, I say. It's not bagay din naman on you, why have this wishful thinking pa? Irita.

As if intentionally luring me into their conversation (which has turned out to be this week's winner), gay guy two says, "I think I'm going to buy Crocs."

Gay guy one then reacts, "Eew! Yuck! Crocs? Really?"

"Huh? Yeah, Crocs. They look good naman,eh. Especially the new design that they have, they don't look like normal Crocs, they look like shoes…They look good!"

"Crocs never look good!" Exclaims gay guy one. "I swear, if you buy them, I swear, I'd stop being your friend! You're not going to be my friend anymore!"

As gay guy one was proclaiming his hatred of Crocs to the whole left portion of Starbucks, gay guys three and four were giggling and seemingly seconding the motion of gay guy one, in their own discreet manner.

Gay guy one seemed to make a solid argument with his Crocs-equals-no-BFF mantra, that gay guy two suddenly sinks in his couch looking all embarrassed and defeated.

Looks like gay guy two will never get those Crocs, after all, as he might be risking one of the most important friendships he has in his life. Poor number two, for two reasons: One, he won't get the thing that he wants. And two, he gets stuck with gay guy one.

I don't know why these guys pissed me off. Is it because they sounded so trying? Or was it that I owned a pair of Crocs myself? Either way, I hated them.

(in picture: CROCS, gay guy one, apparently his trailer-park, out-of-bed porma is too good for CROCS)

I tried to zone them out of my study space so that I could get on with my review, which I successfully accomplished. I missed much of their conversation. I know that hearing the rest of it would have been enriching for me, but I had to get back with my own business. I have an exam coming up and I had to attend to that first.

I left Starbucks last night, before gay guys one, two, three, and four did. That could've been the last time I would hear from those cheap and gay imitations of Sex and the City's Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda, and Samantha. One thing's for sure, though…if I get to see or hear from them again, I would gladly indulge myself again with listening in to their idiotic conversations, getting ticked off, laughing my ass off, and blogging about it.

Starbucks

A few years back, it was only once or twice a year did I visit a Starbucks, mainly because I didn't drink coffee. And in the few times I did, I ordered my usual classic iced chocolate drink and went into one of my out-of-proportion fits, seeing those people, students apparently, studying amidst the coffee-slurping, english-spewing, idiots Starbucks calls their parokyanos.

"Pa'no naman sila nakakapag-aral nang ganyan? Eh ang ingay? Ako, hinding-hindi ako makakapag-aral in a place like this…"


That was, again, a few years ago. Since then my little statement has turned out to be a hypocritical one.

I don't drink coffee. But I study at Starbucks.

Not only am I a Starbucks parokyano now, I also frequent it to find a good place to *cough* study. And I still don't like coffee. Hehehehe. My own little complex irony, right?





But during my study breaks, I head back to my pathological habit of people watching. This habit I think I acquired from four years of being a kulasa. Hanging out at some in-school tambayan, waiting for other students to pass by, and riling ourselves up in making pintas all those other girls. It was fun and I have since been addicted to it. And Starbucks is just the place to satisfy my addiction. A place that has proven itself to be a haven for people like me, who loves to people-watch, criticize, eavesdrop, and tick ourselves off.

It is always packed with different people, both genuine and genuinely fake, as if intentionally calling my pintasera prowess (it's not so much as being pintasera so much as it's simply being observant, hehehe). Of course, I spend an unreasonable, unadulterated time, pondering on the creatures I watch and their so-called life, as they tell it on Starbucks Channel.






Starbucks. So many people...so little time...for me to watch and "observe" them all.

An Away (ǽ-wai) a Day Keeps the Doctor Away

Title being such, it was coined by myself and a couple of officemates to describe the somewhat "odd", to say the least, behavior I have developed during this busy season.

I work in an audit firm. What we call our "busy season" is actually the period right after December 31, approaching April 15, the BIR deadline for filing corporate tax returns. I think it is of an auditor's best interest to put this following tidbit out into the open. Our busy season, in the audit firm I work for, at least, calls for unreasonable overtime hours. Normal eight-to-five employees work over time, I think for two to four hours more after five. Not us. We work a minimum of five hours after five and would go as long as ten, twelve, fifteen…the office AC turns off at night and is turned on again the next day, with our worn-out selves still tinkering with our little calculators in our cramped up workspace. The sunrise sneaks up on us every morning, giving us an alarming reminder that we've spent the whole night working yet we still are not done.

These circumstances, coupled with the diverse personalities I have had to contend with the past months have transformed me to this…an irritable, discontented, war-freak, bungangera. Thus the title. Rarely has a day passed where I didn't have a confrontation of some sort. Palagi akong may inaaway. At some point, I did declare that antagonizing somebody made me high. But now, I admit that being this person has been really tiring.

Maybe I couldn't help but be this way. Anyway, I have always known myself to make a big deal of every little thing. A friend once asked me, somewhat insultingly, how I find time to burden myself with things so petty.

Of course, I looked at myself and found out that, I really do exert more effort than expected in wallowing in how people irritate me: from my friends' complete lack of sense of time to a complete stranger's idiotic fashion choice. I ramble on and on. I rant endlessly. Honestly, I do realize that I don't have to do that. That it's just a waste of time. But, you know, I can't help it. It makes me high? I do it anyway.

This blog is dedicated to my over-dedication to other people's business. It is an attempt to help me vent out excess angst. In the end, I hope I won't need an away (or the Tagalog word for "fight") a day to keep my doctor away anymore.

Join me in my misadventures. Let's whallow in the hilarity of other people's stories, from my standpoint, that is.