ksolaris: (nana)
*Peeks in. Gets rid of the cobwebs on her LJ account.*

Um... hi. Yes, I'm still alive. Hehehe... I've been telling myself that I'd start posting regularly on my LJ again, but... well... yeah. A lot of things have been happenning, and I've got a ton of excuses. Work has been busy, always tired, rather sleep, no internet, can't use a PC, net cafes in Ortigas are in Korean, LJ has been blocked at the office, etc.

Well, I've finally found a chance to sit down and write at my leisure, so here I am again, trying desperately to breathe life into this blog.

Have I mentioned that a lot of things have happened?

Stay tuned. :D

And again, "Hi".
ksolaris: (word up)
... um, hi? :3

Yes, PLURK has taken my soul. Hehe. Anyway, I'm back. I think. Sorry, LJ. Don't worry, I still love you.
ksolaris: (word up)
... seem to reaffirm what I already know. The affirmation is much-appreciated, though. :p

Got it from AstroProfile.com and I highlighted bits of it.

Here's to Capricorns everywhere~! XDD
ksolaris: (nana)
This is my first post of the year, and already I begin to wonder what's going to be running through my head when I read this at around the same time next year. So let's see...

First off, let me talk about 2008.

The year that has just ended has left me with many lessons which I do believe will stay with me for a good while. If I could draw a card that would best signify 2008, it would be The Tower. It was a year of surprises, of upheavals, of changes... but all for the better.

I've been caught off-guard too many times this past year, but I've learned from my mistakes. I've also tolerated a lot of things which I shouldn't have, and I let a lot of things pass me by when that should not have been the case. It took something sudden and terrifying to happen for me to realize all this, and for me to wake up, get up and get moving again.

I let myself fall into a rut and I allowed myself to pretend that I was comfortable and contented to be in such a state. Apparently, I was insulting the Universe, and all it could possibly give by thinking as such, and as punishment, it gave me a powerful reminder that mediocrity or self-pity is not one of its most favored traits.

As a parting shot, 2008 also revealed the truth about certain people to me, and I am very grateful for the knowledge. Such a gift is not one to be taken with merely a simple "thank you".

Now, for the upcoming year, 2009.

When the clocks struck midnight last New Year's Eve, I promised myself that this year would be Card 13: Death. Whereas other people see the 13th card of the Tarot in a negative light, as an end to all that is dear to them, one has to remember that in the Tarot, Death signifies something more profound than merely ceasing to exist. It signifies change, destroying the old in order to give way to something new. It is a transition or a transformation. It is part of the natural cycle of destruction and creation. I hold much love for this card, and I aim to follow the lesson it attempts to teach.

Already, I have begun. I have shed unwanted and unnecessary burdens, and I am more than ready to welcome the new opportunities, challenges and lessons that I have made room for. I am eager for the transformations to begin, and for new life to spring from the ashes of the bridges I have burned.

I have promised myself that this year, I shall respect myself more, and believe in my own self-worth. I will no longer tolerate people who are not important in my life to dictate how far I can go or what I can or cannot do. A year and a half of my life has already been wasted in such a way, and I will no longer allow something so precious to be taken away from me again.

No more pointless complaining. No more quietly bearing it all and gritting my teeth. No longer will I allow myself to think that THIS is fine when it's NOT. No longer will I accept things that revile me and completely goes against my beliefs. No longer will I allow undeserving people to belittle me. No more fear. No more regrets.

It's my time now. I've been given the signal, and I've been provided with the tools. I plan to make use of it well, and they better be ready.

The Universe is great and awesome in every way, with all it can give and provide. To expect any less of it would be a damned shame.

I have emptied myself out for you. Now, COME!
ksolaris: (Default)
Tee hee.... I'm trying out this whole post-via-email thing that LJ's got, and I LOVE IT! Considering the fact that LJ is inaccessible from the office, still being able to post somehow is just awesome. Of course, I'm still getting the hang of it, and it's a little tricky for me and my sleep-deprived brain at the moment (it's 4am right now, by the way), so pardon me if this post comes out a bit wonky. I'll fix it the first chance I get. Right now, I also sorely miss being able to preview my post before publishing it., but beggars can't be choosers, and right now, I'm already pushing it as I'm writing this from the office, while I'm on duty afterall... ^_^;;

Anyhoo, today's news snippets would consist of a Japanese melon that sold for US$6,000, and a military shipment to Taiwan that is made of EPIC FAIL.

For the melon, the buyer of the Densuke melon said that the move was in support of local agriculture. Aww... isn't that so sweet? I wish we had more people like that in this country. On a side note, I just wanted to bring up the fact that the mere mention of the word "agriculture" reminds me of Moyashimon, a viral infection that I caught from Khursten's blog several months ago (Ian and I now adore the cheeky little microbes...).

As for the US mistakenly shipping nuclear missiles to Taiwan, Ian and I had a grand time laughing over it yesterday morning. Behold, we have actually found people who are actually worse than the local Philippine postal service when it comes to deliveries. I really hope that Taiwan remembered to take down the tracking number for the items that they actually asked to be delivered. XD


A couple of weeks ago, I stayed over at Ian's house in Fairview for a night, and while I was there, his sister Kay made us watch an episode of Doctor Who which was entitled "Blink".

Now, I'm a fan of the series, and I'm particularly fond of the 9th doctor (Christopher Eccleston). I'm guessing that the fact that they had John Barrowman (shmexy!) and Billie Piper on board for that season may have something to do with all of it. (And as a segue, I just wanted to say that Rose is THE Dr. Who companion in my book. SHE ABSORBED THE TIME VORTEX. That alone has "Dark Phoenix" written all over it. 'Nuff said.)

Moving on back to that episode... Anyway, it was called "Blink", and it was during the 10th Doctor's timeline. I love the episode because the whole timeline was just crazy, and I could only guess how in the world they managed to get that script together, but at the same time, I absolutely hate it because of those creepy stone weeping angel thingies. Brrr.

I already have this phobia of mannequins and marionettes, and lonely-looking porcelain dolls, so when I saw this episode where the life-sized statues actually had INTENT, I was pretty freaked out. Ian later asked me how I developed this fear, and I quickly realized for the first time that all those Halloween episodes of Magandang Gabi Bayan are to blame.

Back in my elementary years, every Halloween, my family would sit in front of the TV and tune in to that program as it spewed out two hours' worth of local ghost stories and tales of mystery.

One of those stories that ended up planting itself in my brain was about this one ancestral home in the province of Bulacan. The family who owns the house have long since migrated abroad, and only the caretaker stays at the place nowadays. The family, being old money and all, owned a set of 13 antique, life-sized statues (santos) that were all seated around a long dining table, in a re-enactment of The Last Supper. According to the caretaker, he would lock up the house in the evening, go home to his own house which is just accross the yard of the property, and when he comes back the next day, he finds the statues standing and scattered all throughout the the various rooms as if they had a party while he was gone! There's also stories of the sounds of heavy feet walking around on the wooden upper floors, and of how the statues would slightly change their pose when you turn your back to them. A head would be tilted a bit more, a hand would be lower, a set of glass eyes would be looking somewhere else, a formerly closed mouth would be half-open, etc.

This fascinated me a lot, but after the TV show ends, and when the only light in our own house is the dim, yellow hallway light in front of my bedroom, that's when I get the heebie-jeebies. I remember that as a child, I would absolutely refuse to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night for fear of having to look at our own statuette of the Santo Nino that sits on the altar, in front of my bedroom door. I imagined that even if I made a dash for it, I would make it as far as the toilet bowl, and then turn around only to find the statue in front of my face (you have to remember that I was short then, too). In my mind, the religious icon would show its demonic true form when my parents weren't there to help, red glowy eyes and black, bared fangs and all.

This was, of course, all very silly, but I think that the experience has still left me mentally scarred and broken in some places, so you could just imagine how I almost went into a panic when I started attending high school in UST.

The university's campus is PEPPERED with huge statues, and during my first few months, I would skirt around this group of stone bishops that used to be in front of one of the campus gates, especially if it was already late in the day, or in the evening. And yes, during my first guided tour of the university museum, they brought us into this one wing that housed nothing but santos and busts, and ivory statues with broken heads. I was shaking by the time we left the room, and I remember that I was only too happy to start looking at the dead, stuffed tiger and two-headed cow that they had on display.

To this day, I still hate mall closing hours, when the shops close the front door, but leave their display windows lighted. Stupid mannequins.


Have I mentioned that in episode 1 of the 9th Doctor's time, they had plastic mannequins that came to life? Oy, vey. ^_^;;;;;;
ksolaris: (Default)
I would just like to take this opportunity to announce that:

- I have officially lost 4 inches on my waistline, and I'm striving to get it down to my original pre-pill-popping era waistline of 27in. Still a bit to go, but I think I can do it within the year.

- Some old pants are starting to fit again.

- Last December 31, I threw a hissy fit because there's this blouse that I wanted to use for New Year's Eve that I couldn't wear because it was bursting at the seams. Today, as I type this entry in a net cafe in Makati, I am now comfortably wearing that same blouse. Hopefully, before the year ends, I'll be able to start using a whole bunch of my old clothes again and save some money by not having to buy new ones.

- Last Sunday, I went to Antipolo with my friends to go swimming, and I wore a new swimsuit that actually fit me.

On top of those perks, I feel much healthier than I did last January, I no longer get winded as easily as before, and I no longer feel weighted down by my own mass.

I am now a disciplined eater. I bet I can even accelerate everything if I actually also exercised regularly, but first I need a cute proper pair of running shoes. The venue, schedule and a place to dump my stuff at have already been determined, but I now just need the gear (and a bit more motivation and fewer excuses) in order to get started, and that will come soon. However, NOTHING will ever get me to start using the office gym again. Sorry.

All in all though, I just wanted to say that...

Today, I feel awesome.
ksolaris: (Default)
I find it so weird, that as I was on the way here to the internet cafe that I am in right now (i-Hooked Cafe, Makati), I was thinking about how little has happened to me recently that it's possibly not even worth posting about.

And then lo, and behold, on my way here, I was given blog fodder, haha!

Today is my only day off for the week, and I spent the last 15 hours or so sleeping, from 9am this morning, until midnight. I think I could have gone on for longer if Ian hadn't come home from work (I didn't even notice that he left in the afternoon) and woken me up. I'm guessing that he may have feared that I've slipped into a coma or something.

Anyway, Ian has an activity for work tomorrow, and he and his workmates have to do some practicing at a workmate's flat (it involves the eBay song, and some interpretative dance. Don't ask...). The said workmate lives close to Makati Cinema Square, so Ian and I decided that he'll show me where he's staying, and then I can go head to i-Hooked, and surf and actually get some work done for the day.

So I left Ian with his workmates, and decided to walk from Makati Cinema Square to Export Bank avenue, near the corner of Pasong Tamo, by going down Amorsolo. I figured it was the safest way to go since Amorsolo has both Creekside Mall and Mile Long Plaza which is filled with girly bars and karaoke joints, so that meant that the area is well-lit and has people in it.

I was enjoying the night air, and the long walk (I love Makati, you can just walk EVERYWHERE), when I approached the front of one of the clubs. There was some commotion going on, and when I got close to the crowd, it turned out that there was a very drunk Japanese lady slumped on the floor, crying. The security guard, the waiters, and the mama-san of the place that she just tumbled out of didn't know what to do with her as they all didn't know how to speak Japanese (it turned out that the only GRO that they had that spoke the language was absent that day), and they didn't know how to a.) get her to pay the bill, and b.) get her home safely.

Being the idiot that I am, I got myself involved in the trouble.

The mama-san asked if I knew how to speak Japanese, and I said no. By the time I said it, though, she's already grabbed my arm and shoved me towards the crying lady. Not knowing what to do, and getting worried about the lady myself, I decided to try anyway, and just give up and walk away if I failed on the first go. That way, everyone can say that I at least... well, tried.

I noticed that the lady looked like a typical OL/Oeru, so I figured she'd probably know how to speak some English, and I can use what little smattering of Japanese generic terms and phrasebook bits I knew.

Well, long story short, I managed to get the lady to give me her bag and wallet, and pay for her tab. I also ended up asking the security guard to hail us a taxi, helping the lady into the taxi, getting into the taxi myself and asking the driver to take us to The Columns on Ayala Avenue (thankfully, her wallet had a tag with her name and address on it written in English). I also ended up paying the driver with money from the lady's wallet, and walking into the building lobby with her draped on my back and still sobbing, but half-unconscious.

Once I got through the door, the doorman and the front desk staff got her off my back, both literally and figuratively. I showed them the tag on her wallet, and they confirmed that she was indeed a resident of the building, and that they had a spare key to her flat. I was about to leave at that point, but they asked me to accompany all of them to the flat as some sort of safeguard, since they had no female staff to witness that they didn't molest the lady in any way, or steal from her in case something turned up missing. T_T;;

So, up we went, got the lady through her door, and tossed her on her bed, shoes and all (she had an awesome apartment, by the way). One of the staff turned on her airconditioner, and I covered her with half her comforter and tucked her purse inside with her. She was fully knocked-out by then, so we left her in her room, locked the door behind us, and we all agreed that after all that, it was US who now needed a drink. Haha!

Sigh. Of course, it has only occurred to me now just how much trouble I could possibly have been in if it turned out that she WASN'T a resident of that building and if she actually lived much farther away. Or if we actually left her in the wrong apartment.

This has got to be one of the weirdest midnight walks that I've ever taken.

 Well, at least I got a free taxi ride to the area I was headed for in the first place. -____-;;;
ksolaris: (Default)
I was channel-surfing a couple of days ago, when I happened to stop at Discovery Channel, during their program Man Made Marvels. In that episode, they featured the latest infrastructure projects in Beijing that the Chinese government was coming up with as they prepare for 08.08.08.

I was watching the part about the new Beijing International Airport, and I was impressed by the sheer size and concept of the project. After that, they featured the upcoming train system that's supposed to shuttle the Olympic crowds to and from the airport area (I think). Now, the platform where the train ride stops features this gigantic overhang that was designed by a famous architect whose name eludes me at this moment.

When I saw that bit, all I could say was...

"Shit. I hate my professors."

The narrator of the program kept going on and on about how the overhang was being applauded as "awe-inspiring" and "glorious", and as he did so, I just kept getting more and more frustated.

The reason for this bitterness is the fact that back in college, I designed an seaport with almost the exact same thing; a huge overhang in almost the same shape, but with a more proportionate size to the area of the theoretical port that we were given to work with. This was in Design class.

My professor failed my plate at that time, saying that the design was impossible and impractical, and I was even accused of watching too much Lord of the Rings.

... Grrr.

And now that I've brought that up, let me also express my utmost frustration at the fact that the same professor also failed another plate that I made for an upper-class residential unit meant for a bachelor, saying that it wasted too much space, and that there was no actual division between areas and rooms.

HELLO??? Ever heard of Mies Van Der Rohe?? Minimalism?? ZONING??? And that a residential layout doesn't have to be made with freakin' BOXES??? If DOORS define space for you, then I hope you choke on pencil lead.

Sigh. I've long forgotten the name of the said professor, and I'm kicking myself a few years too late over the fact that I should have complained and stood my ground back then.

Moral of the story #1: Don't listen to old, withered professors who stubbornly insist on keeping their minds closed.

Moral of the story #2: If enrolling in a Design class of any kind... make sure you don't get a professor like the one described in #1. If you do, promptly file for a class transfer.

Moral of the story #3: Heard that story about the 2-year-old boy who saved his whole family from burning to a crisp? That boy told his dad that the bedroom was on fire, but the dad thought the little boy was playing another game. It wasn't until the boy screamed at him and kicked him in the shin did he decide to get up and actually check. Lo and behold, the room was on fire and they almost got wiped out. So... LISTEN TO THE YOUNG ONES, TOO!!

Moral of the story #4: Be prepared to scream at people and kick them in the shin if necessary, if you truly believe that they should listen to you.

Sigh. T_T

ksolaris: (Default)
Well... just a little bit.

Anyway, at this moment, I should be at work, but instead, I'm here at Ian's house at Fairview, typing away. I know it's teetering on the edge of irresponsibility, but screw it, after what happened earlier, there's no way I'm going to the office. No. I'm staying here for today, thank you very much.

Last night (technically about six hours ago) at about 11:30PM, I was getting ready for work when the fire alarm in our building went off. I ignored it for a few moments, thinking that another one of the brats on our floor may have set off the alarm for fun again. I noticed after a while, though, that the alarm wasn't stopping at all, and I could already hear the sound of people's footsteps as they ran in the hallway.

I called Lem out of the shower (he couldn't hear the alarms in the bathroom), and we hurriedly got dressed, and gathered items that came to mind as we prepared to leave our room. Keys. Phones. Camera. Money. Documents. Authographed Neil Gaiman books. So we went down the fire escape, and I was half-hoping that it was a dud, and that we'll just be sent back upstairs the moment we reached the lobby. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

Video taken on our way out of the building:

FIRE IN THE HO---... hallway...? )

Anyhoo, we finally managed to get back into our room by about 1:30 AM, and we spent some time cleaning up the messes we made when we scattered things around in a hurry when the alarm first rang. We also had to put the books back on their shelves, among others. By the time we were done, the adrenaline rush was gone, my muscles in my arms and legs were shaky and I got one hell of a headache. Plus, I needed a bath.

Some things to point out, though:
- Goddammit, I almost left my original Clow Cards behind!
- We left the bulk of Lem's MTG cards!
- I left Yuki and Doro behind! I completely forgot! I'm so sorry~!! T_T
- Lem decided to take from the room... our bills. XD I told him later, "Seriously, you should just let THOSE burn. In fact, make SURE it gets burned." XD XD

We're just ever so thankful to God that no real damage and harm was done. However, we're taking this as a warning, and we really should place some of our valuables elsewhere... and I should start leaving some clothes at my parents' house, too.
ksolaris: (Default)
Last September 30, I realized that I have been putting too many personal projects on hold for the past few years, and so I decided that it's about time that I finally got off my butt and finished those projects. After all, I was shocked at how fast this year is drawing to a close, and I simply couldn't let this year go by again without having a little something more to show for.

Anyway, one of those personal projects has been to FINALLY encode all my old poems, print it out, and stash them somewhere for future generations to find. After all, who knows? Maybe my future grandkids would like to have a good laugh from time to time.

You see, back in high school, I REALLY thought that I had the makings of a poetic genius. Of course, now that I'm almost 24 years old, I now know that ALL high school students have this tendency to think that they are the bestest evar at something or other. Anyway, I've been keeping around this old notebook which I have lovingly filled with random phrases which I once thought were valid pieces of classical literature seventy years from now. It's actually a load of crap, but back then, I actually made an extra effort to write really neatly and carefully in this notebook - and people who have seen my handwriting will know that this IS a great challenge for me - and therefore, this whole thing has significant sentimental value.

Now, I just want to sort of organize those poems, file them away, and then get rid of the ugly, old notebook which I've kept it all in for all these years. Don't worry, I have no intention of publishing those poems, because seeing as to how even I can't bear reading some of the stuff that I wrote back then, I'm giving that goal a rest. (I mean, look at Billy Corgan and Jewel. Both were doing pretty well until each decided to publish their poetry collection, and now see what it got them.)

I actually started the encoding process last night, and holy moley, it was a PAINFUL EXPERIENCE. It was an utterly indescribable few hours, when I couldn't make up my mind whether to laugh at myself, or cry because of those really bad poems. They were THAT BAD. The earliest poem was dated 1996, and I honestly still can't bring myself to believe that I wrote that crap, and the rest that followed it. Hence, the .doc file has been aptly, and lovingly, named "load_o_crap.doc".

As I was reading all my old words, a realization also dawned upon me...


I then repeatedly banged my head on the table to snap out of it. When my boyfriend finally got home later that day, I told him all this, and after a long bout of laughter, he pointed out to me that this was only because back then, people refered to it as "angst", because people actually bothered to spell out complete words on full-sized keyboards instead of inventing convenient abbreviations like "emo".

Because of this moment, I have come to several conclusions:

1.) A person only has the right to be emo up until the age of 15. Then you grow up. The only exception to this rule would be if your emo-ness is sure to positively (emphasis on positively) contribute to literature, art, music, society or culture in general.

2.) When your high school daughter's favorite word seems to be "darkness", be alert!

3.) Boy, did I have a lot of baggage back then...

And get this, inserted among the pages of my old poem notebook, I also found a small post-it with my name "K" written on it... in blood (I think that was from a time I pricked my finger for a sewing project or something).

O, ha?? O, HA?? WAGI, di ba??!!

Hehehehehe... me and my bleeding heart. XD XD XD XD

I have to admit that this has got to be one of the funniest things that I've done in a while. XD XD
ksolaris: (airbender)
I've just passed the one-month mark at my new job, and within that span of time, there have been some things which I still couldn't get myself to agree with. For one, the very nature of the job is something that I once swore I would completely get away from. Once upon a time, I told myself that there would be no turning back, that I would never be caught here again, and yet here I am once more, back where I started.

Could I say that I was just a victim of circumstance? Perhaps. Could it be that I was just too lazy or too untalented to get the job that I actually wanted? Plausible. But then, could this just be the World's way of telling me that I've been going in the wrong direction all along, and that it has already made a way for me to get back on the right path? Maybe.

I'm just terribly confused, that's all.

On one end, I can see that pieces are falling into place, and I now have a chance to get things that I've always wanted. This makes me happy. On the other end, I'm petrified with fear as I wonder if perhaps I'm not fulfilling my utmost potential, that perhaps I'm settling for something while unknowingly sacrificing something greater that was meant for me. And as if that weren't enough, there's also a part of me which spends its time wondering if it's wrong for me to even assume that where I am right now is not where I'm supposed to be, that THIS isn't the way for me to reach that potential which I fancy myself to have.

Maybe I'm just having delusions of grandeur.

I keep thinking about Jack Sparrow's compass from the movie "Pirates of the Carribean" (yes, yes, I'm guilty of being a fangirl. So there...), the one that points towards the direction of that which you most desire, and I can't help but wish that I had one just like it. At least I would have had a way of validating if the direction that I was going in was the right one.

Why is it so scary to be wrong?

Some time last week, I had a short conversation with one of my co-workers, and as I listened to her talk, she mentioned something that made my heart skip a beat. Because of this tiny shred of information that she shared with me, I suddenly knew (or thought I knew) what I wanted for myself. Suddenly, I saw a goal that I can strive for, a direction. In that split-second, pieces snapped into place, and I felt this renewed sense of challenge. In that moment, things suddenly came into focus, things that made me tell myself that in three years, I would reach that goal... that in three years, I will crush my own personal demons and break myself for the sake of reaching that finish line... that in three years I will snap my pride in two and win the game against myself.

Suddenly, it occurred to me that I've been trying so hard to find North, that I completely forgot that that wasn't where I was supposed to go.

Or was it..?

If only I wasn't so terrified of getting lost and drowning.


ksolaris: (Default)

September 2010



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