Scripta Manent

One of the Hufflepuffs we're all very proud of.

(Better advance than late...) :D *huggles*

... in my submitted and published (how mortifying) fan fics:

- flying attendant
- electric hand beater

/lol

~ * ~

Lola's funeral was a banig of odd and wonderful habi-- I'll refer myself to my email to Chiara, 10 June 2009. As for you friendses who do read my posts, I can sum it up like this:

~I loved having the wind numb my cheeks.

~I was disgusted with inconsiderate fellow bus passengers

~I loved how sweet my drunk uncle was to us nieces and nephews

~I disliked forwardness and misguided thoughtfulness-- there was this woman there, a distant cousin, who made my nine-year-old sister feel inadequate and uncomfortable. She came up to us and chatted and flaunted sign language. Why is it it's the people I dislike whom I can lipread so easily? Or do I dislike them after lipreading them? Anyway, she might have meant well, but Jouie is so good with spelling things to me using the alphabet signs, which is why the woman sorta challenged her. The woman is a teacher. She said she's forgotten the alphabet. She asked Jouie, 'what is your name?' And Jouie signed 'Joanlouise'. The woman said, 'No, no' and signed the phrase. This embarrassed Jouie so much, I feared she might not sign a single letter to me the rest of our stay there.

~Got reacquainted with a girl called aptly called Gaddy (Her real name's Heidi but they call her 'Gaddy' so that she and her sister are a perfect rhyme. Gaddy and Kathy. :D). I love Gaddy.

~Loved the sea. Well, the view of the sea. And mountains. And treeful cliffs. The Mayon was hiding behind her veil of clouds, though.


~ * ~


The reason why I haven't finished my email to you yet, Chiara:



And it's your fault. Just finished it an hour ago. I am heartbroken.

Don't let the title or the cover misquide you, lj friends who haven't read this yet. This isn't a love story. Love is there, but it's purpose here is not to entertain. Oh no. And if you get the book, don't read the synopsis at the back, nor the praises for the book in the flaps. Just read. And let it unfold by itself, let it jolt you. I've been spoiled somewhat by Chiara, in that she already told me the spine of the story, what it's about, but I've still been jolted. Who knows how much more I'd have been shaken if I'd begun reading thinking it's the usual teenybopper dramedy-romance. Alright, the font of the title might have clued me in, too, about the futuristic elements and setting, but this is like and unlike the Giver by Lois Lowry and the Uglies series by Scott Westerfeld. I can't pinpoint where the difference is except that I wasn't on the verge of tears after I finished Giver and Uglies...

That's it, Never Let Me Go is just too like and too unlike the many genres it bumps hips with. I love the absence of the panorama you usually get from fantasy and futuristic books. I love the absence of the typical angst and anxieties you usually get from the YA's, the conflicts you usually get from the Romances. But the panorama and the angst and the anxieties and the conflicts are all there. Not beneath the surface, like a building's foundation, but rather like the very flu virus hovering around these days. :D

I'm hankering to read more Ishiguro now.

~ * ~

For comfort in between sober bites of this fillet mignon that is NLMG and Neil Gaiman's Sandman comics, I had Very Rocky Road in the guise of Susan Elizabeth Phillips' Natural Born Charmer. You know how most romance books begin in the workplace or cafe with dialogue with a workmate or a friend to establish and introduce things? I hate that. This one begins in the road and had me laughing only seconds into every reading session.

~ * ~

I quit SPEW.
I quit The Restricted Section.
It doesn't feel right. But I feel relieved somewhat. Now I can focus on other things without being guilty of my lack of attention on these two.

~ * ~

What focus? Did you notice how I've been reading? Don't ask how I've been writing.

/headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk /headdesk...

~ * ~

A belated but heartfelt happy birthday wish to Leanne. *air huggle*

Aaaaand happy birthday, our sweet, prettiful and lovable Sandrea!

April 6, 1930 - May 30, 2009
~photo: Christmas 2008 (visit from Tita Marlene, Ate Vic and kids)

~ * ~

I slept with her in her 'papag' those nights I stayed in her house when I went to Bicol to represent the family at Ate Mayette's funeral. This was two years ago. I can still smell her. Talc. Sweet. Homey. Comfy. Good night, Lola.

I love you, Lola.

~ * ~

My siblings and I call her Lola Payat (thin) in contrast to our paternal grandma, who's Lola Taba (fat).

~ * ~

Whenever there's a death, I realise grief is only selfishness in another name. I'm sad because when I get rich, Lola won't be there to be pampered. I forgot to ask her the surnames of her grandparents for my family tree project. I only got as far as her parents', which my mom remembers. And how about her conserva recipe? Does anyone else know it?

~ * ~

We're going to Bicol.

It will be one humongous reunion.

~ * ~

And thank you, lovies, for your thoughtfulness. *hugs*

My maternal grandma died.

Lola Payat.

Don't know yet how and why. We always ask that, don't we?

She has been in the ICU these few days for weakness is what I know. This 'weakness' could be many things, I see now. Googled it. Just finished emailing Tita Day in Cyprus.

Mom kicked and cried when she read the text message. She's on the phone with her siblings now. The tears haven't come to me yet. The photos I took of me and Lola are in the old pc, packed away in the back.

+ Catalina Lopez y Pornel Garcia~

Grant unto her rest everlasting.

Thank you for letting us read your story. After careful consideration, we've decided we won't be able to use it in __________________.

And then there was this below the signature: Excellent job, Joanna. Try us again.

Unless that's included in their standard rejection letter... well, no, even if it is a postscript in all their regret-responses, I will indeed try again.

I hate to sound like a very sapling in this business, but I am a sapling and that postscript made me smile instead of sending me right along with my manuscript to the shredder.

My nicest rejection letter is still untopped though. The one where Dean and Nikki Alfar not only mentioned my story by name, but also told me to hug Mom for them. Hee. Welcome to Filipino warmth.

Judging from the letter above, though, the West isn't completely unbearable.

~ * ~

Yes, I'm throwing away my schedule, the part where I'm only supposed to blog on Mondays. Duh.

~ * ~

I am halfway through The Shadow of the Wind.

Gleefully sleepless in consequence (though I'm also rediscovering the pleasures of 'waking up' early in the morning: the unique sunrises, and walking Jego without a leash and seeing him roll in the grassy empty lots, all over something bile-summoning, but which apparently smells good to him and his furry friends).

The last time I felt this way over a book was during feverish glomping on the newest HP. But then that was from long-standing friendship; each new book was like family returning or like returning to family. Familiar. You knew what to expect and half of the push to read stems from the desire to prove others, or be proven, wrong. On this Zafon tome, it's like bumping into a stranger at the post office, accidentally swapping the mail that flew, and being egregiously mesmerized in that stranger's letters. Surprise at every leaf of scribble. Lovely and macabre people in equal measure.

I don't even have to mention the language and the stories within stories.

Do you remember that Book List thing we posted before? The Top 100 Books? Now I know why The Shadow of the Wind is 56th. I'm sure, in the updated list, it's already higher in the rungs.

I've missed this. Reading and being prompted to think, I wish I could write like this.

~ * ~

To forgive is for you, to avenge is for your girl friends. :D

~ * ~

Oh. I didn't see it was Monday today.

called deadlines for a reason. Why issue it if you'll extend it? It makes writers who have already submitted on deadline hopping mad.

~*~

I wrote a very angsty post on notepad last last night after a fight with my mom. I'm really glad I don't have Internet in my laptop. I'll only embarrass and shame myself. At least, that's always what I feel afterward, after the tempers have died down and it's like nothing happened and Mom is being her typical self-sacrificing alter-ego again. I love you, Mom.

~*~

Success is the best revenge. God forgive me, but I really want to receive an acceptance letter one of these days and subtly rub it in the face of someone. I am not vindictive. I won't be kicking his ass figuratively and literally. This someone wasn't worthy enough for that, nor to wound my heart, and I wasn't stupid enough to let him so much as aim a glare at that certain muscle even though I let him have his fun and had fun with him in the process. But he did and is still making my friends think they need to coddle me, pricking my ego and pride. And to quote from a Nora Roberts novel, 'what difference does it make? They're all part of me.'

...the insults of men
having been bitten
in the nipple
by their toothless gums.
-Daisy Laing

My favorite quote for Mother's Day this year. Hee.

I had a summer without water play (not counting sweat). ( There had been lunch, a sleepover and a picnic instead )


( too big photo over here of me and my brujas and my goddaughter Carmela )

In my two-month deadjournal sojourn, I have:

~written 2 fictions, 1 non-fiction and 1 fiction-ish non-fiction and read 20 books. Meg Cabot and Jodi Picoult.

~broken in and broken my new phone (I plonked it in the sink while I finished business in the throne. I always did that. But this time, there was water in the sink).

~dabbled and have done with someone's flirting (not sure yet what he's up to. Either he's callously moving on from me to another or perhaps have been jealous and is trying to make me jealous in turn. All he's succeeding to do is piss off my friends, hehe)

~hugged my dad goodbye and welcome and goodbye again (he got his job back, but he was late for his first flight, so he came back home and then left again a week later. It was funny, that evening we found him right there with Mom taking off his shoes when we kids thought he'd be on the way to Bahrain already)

This post dedicated to my darling twin, jenny_b, also to Chiara, who is partly to blame for my deadjournal, since she has been and is my very own magic diary (she replies!), hehe.

Yes, there is a blog day in my sched, Mark. If this goes on, I think I'll make it Tuesday now, though, instead of Monday. ^_^

...because I'm living in it.

(Back from hiatus.

But according to schedule, blog day is Monday.)

First, belated but still warm birthday greetings to Molly, Tash, Katie and Julia. ^.~ *hands cupcakes*

~

I need you, please, LJ friends.

This was originally meant to be sent via PM in MNFF Betaboards, but just now, I remembered my LJ and my resolve not to look in at my addictions until May 1st.

I'm doing serious keyboard-pounding. Two personal essays. One is entitled Dekada Silencia. This other one, I don't know yet.

Define romance please. I mean the relationship between a man and a woman, not the genre.

If you've read Sarah Dessen's Lock and Key, you'll know what I want. In the novel, the word 'family' held different meanings for different people because of their different experiences.

So, what was/is romance to you ('was' for your naive/idealistic perceptions and 'is' for your mature/enlightened view)? Yours alone. Don't think outside your own experience/thoughts. Coming into a relationship, and the relationship itself (the one that meshes friendship and marriage but exceeds the former and is just shy of the latter), between a man and a woman has evolved so much, and differs so much across the centuries and cultures.

And speaking of cultures, as Wikipedia can only tell me so much and my collection of books isn't that culture-encompassing, how is romance in your country? I mean, does a guy court a girl before they become girlfriend and boyfriend, like most still do here in mine? Or, after being compatible with each other without counting the months, days or hours you knew each other, is a kiss the seal that makes things official?

Is it true that declaring love is like some sort of taboo unless you're proposing marriage or are already married? That's what I read in books and fan fics, hehe. Here in my country, the boyfriend is in for it if he doesn't end at least one text message/ phone call of the day with those three words.

Argh, this has gotten so long. Thank you so much for reading and thank you even more for your time and trouble to respond. I really hope you do answer. Forgive the inane questions, if any. :)

Goes to prove how bad it is: I spent twenty minutes sitting here keying nothing because I'm thinking of a post title. 'Subject' rarely covers my posts because I post so irregularly these days, I end up with so many things to cover in one post.

*wince* It's obvious I just came from bed rest, isn't it?

Some summer bug bit me. From Friday night to yesterday, I had recurrent fever with no other symptom except a dull but annoying headache.

Spent all that time finishing Jinx and the two All-American Girl books by Meg Cabot and The Secret by Rhonda Byrne.

Odd to read in tandem, yes, but it got me through the boredom entertained and enlightened and encouraged.

Meg Cabot makes you laugh, and I don't know if she has kids, but she also writes like a very cool mom. No preaching, no heart-to-hearts, just analogies. As for The Secret, for someone whose dad lost his job in the recent financial crisis, the book's message is... wow.

"What the mind can conceive, it can achieve."
- W. Clement Stone

~ * ~

Friday, July was here and I probably got sick because my sloth-self suddenly became all cheetah, running after and paddling a shuttlecock without so much as a bibbidi-bobbidi-boo of a warning. Ouch. Must exercise. Hehe.

~ * ~

I have removed several shortcuts from my desktop: Sims 2, the GBA Emulator, Library, Microsoft Reader, Fowlwords.

~ * ~

What day was it when I received that super-sweet letter in my inbox from a rejected author? God bless that dear, dear soul. Hee. And I wonder which forum they use to praise us MNFF mods?

(According to The Secret, you mustn't think about it, or you'll 'attract' more of it. But I can't not put it here, so I just reversed several things for positive effect on the law of attraction, LOL.)

And by the law of attraction, I also declare this:

The Writing is Going Well. Real, real, Peachy! ^_^

~ * ~

My aunt's printing business is on a boom. They're making loads, from Adobo to Crissa (shirts) to Havaiana's cloth bags. I wanted to ask if I could work there, but I didn't know the answer to what I'd do there. When you ask for a job, you should know, right?

And anyway, I want to write more than earn money. Though I do need the money and it helps in not feeling useless in the household!

~ * ~

Plug: Lt. Jacqueline "Jack" Daniels thriller novels author JA Konrath's blog.

~ * ~

I really, really wanted to reply again to that sweet email sender: "Writing is a profession. Act professional." A quote to be found in that JA Konrath post I've linked to.

But the sweet email sender is just not worth it. Pearls and swine and all that. She'll probably just reply again with another dose of maturity and decency. Heh. Dad told me to ignore these sorts.

~ * ~

Back to doodling...

In the contest I'm joining, you write a short story in/from/with/using this untitled oil on canvas painting by Juanito Torres.



~ * ~

Oh, and unfortunately, I can't friend-lock my journal because most of my friends don't have LJ's or any kind of blog, for that matter. So while I'm smiling throughout this post (throughout this month and the previous one, even during that fever/headache weirdness), I can only hint of what I'm smiling about. That hint's here somewhere. *wink*

Why only a hint? Because girls are supposed to remain mysterious.

~ * ~

Gah! Five pm and the Ash Wednesday Mass is at six! Gotta run!

Jen, Jen, our sweet jenny_b.

Here's one of the many cakes you deserve for the day (and every day, in fact, hee)!



*hugs*

... and that snapshot, our trophy. It is our proof of accomplishment, of boxing that which cannot be boxed."
- Johanna Carla B. Pilar, Quizas

More than landscapes, it's people and memories we like to 'box'. Never mind the quality of the image, hehe. We just need that souvenir to trigger the recalling synapses in our brains. That souvenir, period.

Yesterday:


~ July, Tonks, Sherly, Rolydee, Jego and me, after cooking and eating French toast, chips and donuts. *bloat*

Christmas:



~ Rovie (who's insane when there's a camera) and Jouie, my goddaughter and my sister

~ my nephew, Josaphat Ira Emmanuel - Jop for short. This guy's going to break hearts someday. For now, he's content beating us at UNO.

~An officious little puffed-up canary wearing glasses with faded maroon wire-rim said in response to my last post: "Feeling jobless and useless isn't nice to feel in combination, especially since you ARE jobless."

I said-- well, I didn't say anything, just *nod-pouted*

Hehe.

~Oh, after Mass last Sunday, I lounged in the pew while waiting for the Communion to finish. I normally always sit straight, but that particular evening, I was stuffed with ginatan, a banana and jackfruit dessert with coconut cream and brown sugar, among other decadent trimmings.

Josh and I always attended the last Mass, so we had the pew to ourselves. It was okay to stretch my legs, cross my ankles, and lean on the arm I had propped two feet from me on the seat. Across the aisle, the girl who didn't have my subtlety at looking at the other churchgoers' attire and shoes seemed to be paying me more attention than was warranted by my non-special getup.

And then she whispered to her mom.

Seconds later, the mom also looked at me, though with more finesse, on the pretense of shrugging her wrap higher up her shoulders.

I saw all this from the corner of my eye, so I just dismissed it. Maybe they weren't even looking at ME.

And then the priest rose, we all rose, and we were blessed in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen. Thanks be to God... *applause*

That's God you're applauding, so you do it with energy and high in the air.

That's when I felt the air on my tummy.

Apparently, the two lowest snaps of my blouse had come undone-- maybe from my bloat and my slouch.

At least, the mystery of 'the looks' was cleared up.

And my navel was clean.

/giggles.

~And while I'm recalling things, let me go back further and let December 21st of last year be on the record:
J called J "Mr. Good Son"
And J called J "Ms. Bright Side".

My online time has been sporadic, 'happening' like the hiccups. Like now. It's a holiday here in our piece of Luzon and Josh and Jouie don't have school. Mom and Dad took Jouie with them to meet the wife of one of Dad's coworkers. Josh is loving his soak on my laptop playing Harvest Moon while I mod, beta, and return to my neglected LJ.

I hope I haven't been defriended by anyone yet. Some days, I compose journal entries in a notepad in my laptop, and that's the end of it, I have written what wanted to be written. Never mind it isn't posted for everyone else to see.

It has been a wonderful, wonderful month.

In my last (and only entry so far for 2009, hee) post, I mentioned looking for my doughnuts. I found them. And I'm ashamed for not seeing them at first, for forgetting them, for seeing the hole instead, instead of the confectioner's sugar.

For 2008, there was my story getting Honorable Mention in The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror 2008, there was my being hired as a moderator at Mugglenet, and there was Tonks's and July's arrival to my circle of dear brujos and brujas.

Not too long ago, I composed this notepad doc entitled 'time-off'. My application for hiatus from Mugglenet. All communication from the pc and the laptop being stopped because of July's recent virus-purging of the latter, I quote from memory:

"Modding is a challenging hobby, even a stress-reliever however crazy the users and the queue becomes. You, my fellow mods, are either professionals, moms, or students collecting certificates and medals and earning degrees. I'm none of those. Just bumming, not even able to use time more profitably by being at the Forums or at the Archives devotedly. This can't go on like this. I need to write, publish something, maybe a whole book, so I can feel good again about myself."

I sounded sensible at the time when I wrote that. When I reread it, it still sounded sensible, but also lazy. Who can confirm that I'd write once I'm on hiatus from my modding duties? Am I just looking for more time so I can devote it to making a custom Sim community or read all the ebooks I've accumulated?

I'm at least being useful now (the teensiest bit) even though I couldn't write a single line and take a single step to what I said, making myself feel good about having this challenging, interesting, addicting hobby.

All hobby, me.

But here I go again, I forgot I'm supposed to be reviewing The Tombs of Atuan and The Woman in White.

Just... I feel jobless and useless.

I want to give something to my parents soon.

For this last week, ideas have trickled in slowly for an essay entry to that prestigious local awards for which I've taken the time off from beloved SPEW. I thought I would try again with a short story (of which I have so many fragments and snippets) but this essay feels better, waaaay better than my other conceived 'things'.

I just have to write it.

This is a deviation from my usual happy, bubbly tone.

I'm serious, you hear that, you gnome of laziness and blah-ness with your grubby hands around my ankles?

~stayed offline all Christmas and New Year! (ETA: and missed so many free E-books, *wails*)

We live in deeds, not years.
- Bailey

I'll have to review my journal to see my doughnuts in 2008. Must not mind holes (except for my quarterly articles in Read, I published nothing this year). Hee. But before that, there are various salmon to sear. Online responsibilities, photos to grab, this year's writing opportunities...

Blessed New Year to you, f-list!

Dreams need work.
- Coelho

I haven't been working. Must work on that.

Three posts in one day. And then I'll be gone again anyway, humor me. *grins*

Last Sunday, November 30th:


July, moi, Sherly (holding the latest issue of Read inside that envelope, heh), Tonks and Eli. By this time, Camille, Allen and Dea, Xandy and Dave had already left. I'll ask for the other pics from Xandy. This is the best we got from my digicam before the batt went kaput.

Twilight the movie was nice. I think I got spoiled too much from collecting all the publicity videos and photos, though. Because while Tonks and the others were holding their breath, I was muttering nonstop while in the cinema.

One mutter that made Dea and Camille get a fit of the giggles: Ang tagal! (It's taking so long!) - during the kiss. Did you count just how many seconds passed before they snogged? They exchanged carbon dioxide for about thirty seconds first.

I enjoyed it. Though I scoffed at that Apple. Heh.

I'll have to wait for the DVD. Can't critique without subtitles. Oi. But overall, I pat Catherine Hardwicke on the back affectionately.

It's been a lovely, lovely Sunday. I got to wear my customized blouse, we got the best seats in the cinema and we got in with plenty of time to settle before the movie started, I never lost at UNO (did I, Tonks?), it only rained when Josh and I were already snug inside the van on the way home, and then the rain stopped exactly when we arrived at our chapel's driveway!

Should have known it was the First Sunday of Advent. I'm glad I didn't skip Mass!

Thank you, Lord.

I trust He'll fix the hiccup in the horizon, too. Mom said Dad's company is shutting down in April. World crisis indeedy.

I'm so ensconced in my own happy little world I'm more than a little shaken with these reality checks... I've been on PM with Pooja checking on her and her family and friends in India... and then my Dad possibly losing his job.

But... note to self, it's still a beautiful world, as it's said in Desiderata.

I'll strive to be happy. Even the galaxy says so.

The moon, Jupiter and Venus. Last night, December 1st:

Isn't that the cutest? Hee.

Sherly and I had planned long, long ago to have custom shirts to wear to the Twilight showing.

Busyness and conflicting schedules got in the way. So Sherly just gave me her shirt and money for white paint last Sunday when we met. I rushed mine last Saturday, after I came home from Carmie's christening.

We'd planned to go to Air Art with our designs, but, huh, they charge a lot more than we're willing to pay. So I Googled 'how to print shirts', and discovered this lovely tutorial right here on LJ!

It gave me heart and confidence.

( Joanna's first foray into the printing business... Oi! Step by step in pictures... )

Et voila!



Not bad for a first try... though the E's in 'silence' are more like Pacman's than E's. LOL. And there are a lot of globs there, see? I won't press too hard with the cotton wool next time. I'll also tape the stencil much, much tighter!



~*~

I got 'scent and silence' from Midnight Sun. Go read it. Me won't spoil.

I did receive several looks from hardcore fans in the mall, who recognized what my blouse was saying: 'Come hither, Edward.' ^_^

Been busy-busy again. Another lovely weekend.

For the past five years, I've had a godchild annually. I'm flattered my cousins think so highly of me. But then, it's so much easier to have a cousin as your child's godparent. No escape come Christmas. Heehee!

Ate Junie Carl and I have always been close. I was so happy when she picked me as godmom to Carmela. Come to think of it, godmother is way better than being picked as a bridesmaid. I forgive Ate Junie Carl. Oiyoy. Me and Camille both, right, Cam?

Saturday, November 29th:
Carmela Antoinette. A shame she's camera shy, she has such a cute smile! (And anyway, who wouldn't be slightly cranky after being passed from arm to arm at least a dozen times? And that was just at church. ^_^ Carmela was such a pro, she didn't fuss! Just looked around and thought of Neverland...)


Carmie and her Mommy, Ate Junie



Jouie, moi, our cousins Camille, Kuya Carlston (holding Carmela) and Jonie. Behind is little King, my nephew*, Kuya Tonton's son.


Anna, Camille and Patricia (Anna's friend) with me on the UNO table... we were plotting the coming Christmas extortion. Haha!

*Here in the Philippines, we call a first cousin's child a niece/nephew. A second cousin is the child of a parent's cousin.

~*~

It's been so long since I've held a baby. My other niece/goddaughter Yesha, who's only a year older than Carmie, has been in Bicol all this time. When I was with her, she was still too small to move much.

Every time seven-month old Carmie wriggled, I panicked a bit, thinking she's crying. LOL. They're such bundles of joy and... life! Aah, abies. I can't wait to have Carmie in my arms again.

~*~

An incident: Mom stopped me from singing on the videoke.

I didn't know I could do the trembling-lip thing until then. Wow.

I don't really know how I sound when I sing now. And there were strangers there, Ate Junie's and Kuya Anthony's workmates and friends... Sheesh. Okay! Singing only strictly en famille.

Mom made it up to me. She bought me paints and sponges... and then cotton wool when the sponges didn't work. Haha. But that's next post.

Yesh, where have I been? ^_^ Reading and writing and offline when not in communion with Q, that's all. The name's Bond. James B--

~ * ~

Don't you just love it when you 'discover' books? And even better, when you discover authors?

Sarah Dessen has been winning awards while I was still mostly immersed in Harry Potter and the Classics, and because she/any of her books hasn't been featured in the local book magazine I contribute to, which is my only input about the publishing world aside from some genre blogs and plugs online, I've been unaware.

Now I'm very aware. I'll be collecting and looking out for her books.

I've read and relished two:

The Truth About Forever (2004)

Just Listen (2006)


The latter is an eloquent account of the old adage, 'the truth shall set you free'. I looked it up and discovered it's been made into a movie already. And I don't wonder why, what with modeling, eating disorders, glass houses, your classic snooty high school clique queen and music in a smooth latte-like blend.

I liked The Truth About Forever better, though. I won't spoil, but see the following quotes:

"...there are no guarantees. Be alive."

"...it was okay not to fit in everywhere, as long as you did somewhere."

Unlike other YA writers I've encountered, Dessen doesn't use ultra-modern jargon non-Americans like me would need to look up in the slang dictionary. I liked that. And is this a trend? Protagonists that make you grit your teeth? LOL. Dessen's (in these two books, at least) are conflicted anti-heroines who need to see, and do make it to, the light. With help from their guy leads: to-die-for. A la Edward in their flawed perfection. But unlike Edward, they don't coddle. Oh, and unlike the Twilight books-- which, as I've been losing hair reiterating, are more romance than YA, more romance than fantasy adventure and is only being compared to HP because of its similarly huge fanbase, not because it's remotely the same, so tuck away your complaints and expectations (about there being no 'action' or 'theme' in the books/movie) if you don't know Barbara Cartland, Danielle Steele, Fern Michaels and the rest of them, please Merlin, I'm begging you--Sarah Dessen's YA is what I call 'real' YA, spotlighting growth, maturity, wisdom. So she's right there at the top along with Katherine Paterson, Lois Lowry, Louis Sachar and Jerry Spinelli in my list.

...And speaking of lovable guy leads, worthy of honorable mention is Rob in Meg Cabot's Missing You, the last book in her lesser-known Nancy Drew-with spunk 1-800-WHERE-R-U series (first published under nom-de-plume Jenny Carroll).


It could do with a better, less cartoony, more 'serious' cover to match its content.

~ * ~


I'm supposed to have been with Sherly today at the mall, but I had to cancel. And if I weren't recently steeped in good reads, I wouldn't be this unruffled about it.

Money-argument with my mom. When you live at home without needing allowance for school because you're not studying, with dishwashing as the only regular chore, you will be hard-up for money. Heh.

From here on to Sunday when our other friends have a big movie get-together planned in the city (Sherly will come, too, anyway), I'll have to be good. I'll clean the bathroom and I'll dust the living room.

For the movie and for acrylic paint.

~ * ~

And here's Jego (in one of his jealous reconnoiters of the fence, barking at the mutts outside), my no-fail anti-depressant aside from books.




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Before last weekend, I've been doing at least four stories a day. I've received the first of what I'd call 'smile-mail' (Thank you very much! I will fix those right away.) and I've submitted my first problematic thingie to admin. LOL. The thing refuses to be stamped.
/scratches head.

~ * ~

I promise to un-neglect your LJ's after Sunday. Mwahugs. I miss your posts, you know! How much have I been missing? *tries not to think too much about it* I hope you're all doing well, lovies.

Friendship and a sputter-inducing news last Tuesday. Can't shout about the news here yet though. Still under wraps. I'm in Saran wrap, that is. LOL. Marinating. I hope I become good enough to officially be popped into the oven.

Ooh, oven talk. Nope, I'm not pregnant.

Saturday gave me that thrill again of meeting and befriending new people, a thrill I haven't had in quite some time-- three months. The last time was last July when I met Aljo and Joey.


From top row to bottom row, left to right:
Darlo, Eunice, Sarah, CJ, Zech, Erin, Irish
Tonks, Sonny, Medea, Ross
Carmela, Sherly, moi,
July, Aldrich, Ian


Potter Synidicate star bottle made by Tonks

Saturday had been different in that there were SEVENTEEN of us. We used up to six tables in Goldilocks, and generally attracted stares, wistful smiles and grins from the other people in the mall.


The Slytherins posing, with July as the reluctant 'angel'.

They were always joking and laughing and poking fun at each other. I couldn't hear the jokes, but I couldn't help giggling along. And everyone were so nice and warm. I also had two new beloveds: Medea (that sweet adorable girl in the center of the picture above, holding the Potter Syndicate star-bottle) and Carmela. Sarah, too. Wasn't able to take a photo with Medea because she went home before we really went berserk with my Kodak.

Of course, there was Sherly and there was Tonks, my precious brujas.





Other highlights of the day were: the pictorial, (in which we made the photographer's day and at the same time harrassed her to near catatonia), the raffles (in which I won a Getbackers poster-sticker, one of the pictorial's prints and I gave away a copy each of the Harry Potter Creative CD and a DVD of the first five movies, won by Ross and Zech respectively), an UNO game (in which Medea and Carmela nearly came to blows). We only played one round. The last two had to refresh the deck six times before Medea lost. And then the dare she picked was to unravel Tonks's braids. It was a challenging dare. Haha!

Oh, and it was my brother Josh's birthday. Unfortunately, the date of Potter Syndicate's End of Term feast couldn't be moved, so I had to compromise. Josh had a little party. I got him a Naruto keychain he likes very much, so much he doesn't want to use it in fear of losing it. Hee.
Love you, Josh.

Josh not being with me posed some worry to these friends, new and old. Tonks wanted to see me all the way home, but she, Carmela and Ian had an hour's worth of road before reaching home. They only left when Tonks thought I'd boarded the van. In truth, I'd only fetched my camera. So then, the boys stayed with me. Wouldn't have gone to dinner if I didn't shove them away. Hehe. Such concern was both sweet and also a little embarrassing. I wish I didn't give so much anxiety just by being away from home and without chaperone. Mom called Sherly-- on the phone Sherly had left home. /facepalm

And then the van took a different route. It stopped for gas. I thought that was it.

But it continued down the lane instead of turning back. The entire duration of the ride, I was always a second away from panicking and telling the driver to let me off. I'm glad I stayed quiet and trusted that I didn't ride the wrong shuttle. Of course not. I'm not stupid. I just watched the windows. In the end, we did reach my subdivision. Phew! If the driver was avant-garde in his route, kudos to him. I did notice less traffic.

Yesterday, my grandmother and uncle and cousin Carlo stopped by. Played UNO. I have a feeling we cousins will have a tournament come 29th, when our newest niece gets baptized. I'm godmother, by the way.

(Godchildren: 5
Jobs: 0
Cash: I always have 'cash'. In the dictionary)

Been a lovely weekend.
I was pinching Edward's...um, posterior-- and I didn't even realize. /dies laughing




Rolydee said Twilight's been rated R-16 here! Poor Jouie.