CIRCUIT REDUX

A hotter and better venue with all the right moves!

TWO DAYS FOR SIX YEARS

With the coming of the sembreak I was able to face one of the more pressing issues in life today, registering for the upcoming 2010 elections.

If it was up to me I would gladly sacrifice my right of suffrage just to escape the hellish line of registration. But it’s not just up to me, I owe it to the rest of the Filipino people. Now having the passion to be registered for the sake of my country’s wellbeing is quite different from braving the actual registration process.

After 19 hours stretched over a span of three days of waiting in line that could have encircled the world over twice, I was finally able to get that coveted step of registration: the biometrics.

Believe it or not I actually started registration back in summer when the Comelec (Commission on Elections) setup a satellite registration venue at our village. The first six hours of my labor was spent just on getting the actual registration form and having my name validated and so on. I was rescheduled for my biometrics on July, but being the student that I am, I wasn’t able to come since the day was in conflict with my class schedule.

Come sembreak I was finally able to fall in line at the city hall for my biometrics. But after ten hours of waiting I was yet again rescheduled. Thankfully my dad came with me that day, and thankfully a sort of uprising happened among the other people in line. When 5pm came only 400 people will be accepted, the guards made the mistake of giving people false hopes, so when the guard closed the gates at around 7 (the reg was supposed to be closed by 9), people became restless and started shouting and mobbing the gate. Thankfully my dad was among those who calmed down the people by speaking with the head honcho and asking him to device a system that will enable those rescheduled for the next day (such as myself) to be assured of a different and separate line with a biometric machine all to ourselves.

The next day, arriving at around seven in the morning, I was shocked to see a single line twice as long as the line I had the day before. And it was only seven! So my dad yet again spoke with the head honcho and only then and there did they put into action the system my dad suggested.

Two lines instead of a single snaking hell line were implemented. One for the people who were in line the day before and rescheduled for today, the other was for the new souls set to suffer in limbo. The system worked, as the office was able to accommodate the two batches at the same time without raising the ire of any party. And so my dad was the hero for the day.

After three hours of waiting I finally got my biometric scan and all, and am now a proud registered voter. After all that grueling physical, mental, psychological trauma, I was finally able to be free of that line. It was so long you could have met someone while in line, built a relationship with that person, fought with the person, and have a clean break-up, all while in line.

Now that I’m free of the registration, it is time to assure the freedom of the Filipino people for the next six years by making the right choice come Election Day in 2010.

AUTO-MATON

I am now with a car. Bow.

Yes people, after three and a half years of waiting, my folks finally gave in to my request (more like plead) of having my own car. It is a second hand white 1998 Honda Civic. Nothing special but it means the world to me right now. Actually with the many warnings my dad gave me—if I as much as place a scratch on it—it is now more valuable than even my own life.

For the car geeks out there what it does boast is a spoiler, 15 inch mags, and a 6-track CD changer at the trunk. Pretty nifty for a beat meister wannabe.

In the meantime though I am only restricted to driving it around the village, during driving lessons, and the occasional “try mo i-drive hanggang sa main road, tapos exchange tayo pagkatapos sa malapit na gas station” moments. Parents’ Rule: NO LICENSE, NO TAKING THE CAR OUT ALONE…YET.

So here I am listening to Amber Riley’s “Bust Your Windows” from Glee, finally glad that I have my own windows to bust.

HAPPY 2ND ANNIVERSARY!

CIRCUIT

PITCHIN’ IN BLACK

Just like before I have managed to maintain this blog unmaintained. Translation: no entries for quite some time. Who can blame me? Juggling 21 units, 2 orgs and thesis writing is no easy feat. Anyway this is what happened to me so far:

Joy, Bikay, Rikka and Me

Went to the Junior Marketing Association’s annual Adhoc Event. This year’s theme was Pitchblack: Experience blindness. Enter the imagination. It was held at the SMX convention center last August 29.

As to be expected it was a success of sorts. A lot of people came (I was with Bikay, Rikka, and Joy…but was able to hook up with Bian, Barry, and Kelvin…saw Cake too…along with other BC people…boo Journ pips!). The 20 ft. seamless projections they promised were not seamless and were definitely not 20 ft., unless you measure the projections lengthwise. There were like 6 separate projections of at least 10 ft…that was it.

Drinks did manage to hold up until around 2 in the morning, that was until cups ran out (heavens no!), but I managed to get hold of a bottle and had that one refilled over and over and…yeah two times. That Cossack flaming shot was just insane! I wanted to go for another round but Bian was already tipsy (boo!).

I had breakfast with Bikay and the other BC people at Mcdo The Fort (why The Fort? Long story), and then slept the rest of the night…or the wee hours of the morning (we left SMX at around 3:30) with Bikay and Bian at Gelo’s place (eternal gratitude for the ride and crib Gelo!).

That was it. No throwing up, no hooking up, just grindin and slicin the dancefloor. (and a whole lotta smoking…hooray for the al fresco party! Hahaha!)

LA SUPER LAST SUPPER!

Bureaucrazy.

I won’t be surprised if one of these days a person would run amok because of the craziness of our bureaucratic system. The system is filled with so much red tape, I’m surprised our government buildings are not colored red. The system is so slow, I’m surprised a wormhole in the fabric of time hadn’t opened up and swallowed them yet.

Left: the film's protagonist C: his hunky assistant R: one of the Last Suppers being considered for a corned beef advertisement

Last night I was able to watch the Cinemalaya 5’s Best Picture: the comedic tale of Last Supper No. 3. I would like to place emphasis on how other universities suck, because UP unlike them, has again sponsored the re-showing of these year’s Cinemalaya entries. Hurrah for liberal education! Hurrah for freedom of the UP Film Institute! Hurrah for me being a UP student! Sucks to be you other university students!

Anyway.

Last Supper No. 3 is about the riveting tale of a gay production assistant who loses a measly Last Supper tapestry and the series of unfortunate bureaucratic events which escalated after that. The comic attack of the film on one of the biggest problems of our country is effective and will indeed send you in a laughing fit. But after laughing so hard from all the Murphy’s Law (everything that can go wrong, WILL go wrong) action that is happening in the screen, the movie will make you think: why do we even have this sort of problem?

The bone of contention: Last Supper No.3

The bureaucracy is supposed to bring order by presenting a system which works and functions for the convenience of the people. But oftentimes this is not the case. Long lines, frustrating employees, dilapidated structures, fucked-up justice system, no wonder people are not fans of the prospect of entering a government building.

For what it is worth, the film deserves to win for one important aspect: it provides a refreshing take on an important but already mundanely-perceived subject. Plus Maricel Soriano and Ricky Davao made cameos. Plus it is far better than the dizzying darkness of Engkwentro.

By the way it is based on a true story.

Literally.

F THE FUTURE

It’s the last day of the first month of my last year in UP. I am now officially a senior student. Expected to start my thesis, expected to graduate the next semester, expected to be a bachelor of journalism. A lot of expectations. It is funny how I expected these things myself just three years ago. But now, at the last leg of the race, I’m not expecting anything anymore.

As long as I can remember I have always been quite cynical. Expecting the worst scenario, anxious about so many things I believe might go wrong, dreading a train wreck that might never even happen. I guess it’s because I keep fooling myself that it is better to expect the worse so the blow won’t be too hard when it comes (even though the blow might never come).

No. I am not emo. Just jaded and running out of happy thoughts to think about.

Is there really something waiting for me after college? Am I really prepared to leave university life? Will I be able to be part of a field I have envisioned myself to be in since I started college life? I have no frigging idea.

When I was in grade school, I always said there will be high school. When I was in high school, I said college will be the charm. I’m nearing the end of the line, there might not be another chance. Law school is a prospect, but a really far one.

My life is just ebbing away while the lives of others are prospering (bitter much?).

Enough with the goddamn race. Just drag me and be done with it. Whatever comes will be fine I guess.

I’m no stranger to failures.

This is what happens when I listen to Howie Day’s Collide. Bummer.