Ladies and gents, it's time to meet Daryl Slim Shady.

Yes, I'm still alive, everyone. In fact, I'm more kickin' than ever!

I don't owe you an explanation for my loooooong hiatus.

Er...okay, I think I do. But I'll do it briefly: I was dang busy!

Thing is, I'm busier today than during the hiatus. But I think I can manage to blog now more often. Um, maybe at least once each week. Hehe.

I have to end here. I've been writing an offline journal since last month. I'll post some of them here soon.

That's all for now. Promise, I'll be back. Maybe I'll do a blog makeover, or maybe I'll move my blog to Blogger. I'm still unsure, really. But I'll be back.

Wonderful things have been happening to me lately. Too bad I have little time to blog. Now don't get me wrong, I still want to blog and blogging still is an integral part of my life. It's just that...my mind freezes when I'm already in front of the computer, worrying, about the time, about what I'm going to do next, about things other than having something written down. Just like 15 minutes ago, I was staring at a blank Create Post screen, thinking about so many things, then thinking about nothing at all. Now you should know that my modem is not working, so go figure where I am now.

Down there--yes, at the tagboard--Jerick is asking for a long overdue review, that of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Actually I've been writing one since Sunday night, but until now I'm still short of time to finish it. (In my next few posts maybe I'll be able to tell you what's keeping me busy nowadays.) I've been writing it on my almost-useless PC (no Internet, no Sim City, no printer ink, no burner, the slowpoke), so I get to resume writing it only when I get home. When I get home, however, it's always either that I get home late and it's study time, or I get home early and I take a nap. I know it's my fault why I can't get it done, but there are just things that are more important than raving about a long-awaited film.

Anyway, that unfinished "review" in my computer is now trash. Here and now I'll write one. I still have time anyway.

So it was a Sunday, and I was only half-determined to watch GOF that day. I've always considered myself a real Potter buff (though more on the books than on the movies), but I dunno, watching the movie just didn't seem to me that much of a priority.

After attending the 11 a.m. Mass at the Chapel, however, I'd come up with a decision. I had to watch GOF that afternoon. Actually, the priest's homily was one of the invisible forces that pushed me to ride a jeep bound for SM North. The priest had spoken about doing ordinary things well (just as Jesus did). "When you work, do your work well," he said. "When you lift the pages of a book, lift them well. Even when you watch a movie, watch it well."

It was like receiving a go signal. So I did watch it that afternoon. And just how well! I watched it twice! I know, it sounds like I did not "remember to keep holy the Sabbath day." But hey, watching a two-and-a-half-hour movie twice in a row is five hours of agonizing "butt-work"! Honestly, the pain-in-the-you-know-where was terrible. Besides, I was just making sure that no single centavo was wasted in buying the ticket. And besides, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire really is a film worth watching twice or thrice or many times. It. Is. The. Best. Potter. Movie.

GOF being my second favorite Potter book, I had this peculiar sensation in the stomach upon entering the theater that I just can't put into words. I had to keep my expectations low so if things go bad, I wouldn't be that frustrated. But even if I did have lofty expectations, I guess still wouldn't be that disappointed. Mike Newell got it right. In many ways, GOF is crucial to the Potter saga: it's the first sure proof that our heroes have grown up, physically, emotionally, psychologically. This is no simple children's tale anymore. And it isn't just because our gang have crushes now, but also because more serious things are happening now--Voldemort is back, and if in the last three years people were sent to Azkaban or petrified or had their memory modified, now they get murdered. Murdered.

I find it noteworthy that however thick and overwhelmingly breathtaking Rowling's book may be, they were still able to condense the story into less than three hours, and in such way that none of the "ingredients" that make GOF dinstinct was cast away. Fear, conflicts, infatuations, thrills, bitter memories---they're all there!

And it's quite a paradox that as things become more mature and serious, here we also get to laugh the most. Hilarious scenes and quips are scattered throughout the plot. A list of must-sees: Harry's reaction as Hagrid and Madam Maxime get mushy, Madam Maxime's exotic food, all scenes Ron-ish, Harry's CHOking faux pas, Harry and Moaning Myrtle's "affair" at the prefects' bathroom, and best of all, the Malfoy the Bouncing Ferret scene (McGonagall: "Professor, is that a student?" Moody: "Technically it's a feret!").

And then there were these serious and almost-tearjerking scenes. Moody's Unforgivable Curses lesson clearly gives us an idea how magic can be fun, traumatic, and deadly. Neville can tell us such (pity the movie did not tell us much about the Longbottoms). And then there is the Priori Incantatem scene. Words fail me to describe how I felt watching it! Let's just say, I almost cried my heart out from the time Harry's parents and Cedric appeared till Harry and Cedric's body portkeyed back to Hogwarts.

And Voldemort! Ralph Fiennes is perfect. Absolutely.

Flaws, flaws, flaws. Well, I didn't see major ones... But, hmm, let's see... perhaps the other Tri-Wizard champions should've been given more lines. Other than that, I think there's nothing else.

In conclusion (yes, my mind is drained already), Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is indeed the best Potter movie. Trust me.

So. Was it worth the "butt-work?" You bet it is!

I've just been to Ever Gotesco along Commonwealth Avenue to attend my first PE class this sem---tenpin bowling!

Before I went, however, I had been in deep thought whether to drop the course or not. It's quite expensive! Soon, though, I decided to just "take a look" at the course and see if I would like it. It just might be fun.

And---was---it---FUN! I was excited the whole time I was there! I dunno, but there's just something profoundly amazing about holding an 11-lb ball, doing the four "steps" (which I did badly), and releasing the ball to roll on the slippery lane (if you're lucky unlike me). The crashing sound of pins and balls seemed to me as enchanting as that when hitting a tennis ball.

So, to drop or not to drop? Heavens, no! I already paid and got the ball rolling!

Whoohoo! I now have a photoblog!

Ladies and gents, please welcome Pixels and Text!

I’ve never seen a more sacrilegious cat in my entire life.

I was praying before the Blessed Sacrament at the UP Chapel yesterday afternoon when a cat announced its arrival with loud, incessant meowing. I could hear it, but I went on praying, eager not to be distracted.

But the cat was unstoppably pasaway. Soon it reached the left end of my pew. “Ngiaaw! Ngiaaaaaw!”

Snap! I plummeted back to earth. My attention diverted to this unwelcome white-and-gray feline fellow. I stopped praying but decided to sit for a while. I smiled at the cat whose constant meowing now made me feel like I owe her money (I didn’t check, but I think it’s a she).

Then she climbed to my seat (still noisy as ever), went behind me, nudging its head against my back. Scared, I went to the other end of the pew. The cat followed. I moved away again, and that’s when I felt like my shadow became small, furry, and four legged. Still meowing loudly, the cat sat beside me.

(All the while this was happening, behind me were two girls pausing to acknowledge God’s presence. One of them noticed me vainly escaping the cat.)

Then the cat did the deed. I was so shocked, and so was the girl behind me (“Bastos,” she murmured, amused). This time, I stood up, also in amused disbelief of what had just happened, and with no intention of sitting down again. The girl, who was now going away, tried to help me by enticing the cat to go with her. But the bad cat did not budge. I went out, and sure enough, the cat tailed me. When I stopped taking small steps, she rolled over. Waah! I couldn’t take it anymore (had some demon possessed this poor cat?), so I went back to the altar, genuflected, and fled.

So what did that cat do? Oh, nothing, really. She just touched my crotch, that’s all!

Half the time I was on sem break, I was taking pictures. I did not tour the town, though. There were lots to shoot at home anyway, like...


...this plant. Mama said it's called "euphorbia". I'm not sure of the spelling but it sounded like that (I can spell it as "yuforbia" or "yuforbya" or--ugh--"yoporbiya", but "euphorbia" looks best). It's a popular ornamental plant in our town. I haven't seen anything like it in Manila yet.


...then there's this short banana tree in our backyard. It was bent full of fruit. It looked boring at human's eyeview. So I took the worm's.


...then here's my little sister imitating her ate in the photo that won her the Miss Photogenic award in a pageant last May.


...that's the ate, ecstatic about being with her idol who is flashing a wide grin (you know, of course, who that young man is).

I arrived here in Manila a few minutes past nine yesterday morning--that is, a few minutes after the worst flight I've had so far. The jitters started when something went wrong in the plane's belly just as we were exiting the pre-departure area. We were held back from entering the plane to allow maintenance crew to see what's wrong. The tweaking took more than 15 minutes. That's okay, though. I couldn't risk my safety by having the airplane folks comply to their company's rarely-true slogan about being on time.

So that was the appetizer. I got to taste real fear when the aircraft shook violently in the middle of a smooth-as-glass cruise at 30,000+ feet above sea level. That was after reading Fr. Jerry Orbos' column about death in the Inquirer. Soon, we were into a series of turbulence, stronger this time and with threats of free-falling.

Yes, I was quite scared. Not so much of the pain that might accompany my collision with the earth, but of the certainty of eternal damnation once I died. I had sinned quite gravely and I was anxious to go to confession. I know I was being too paranoid during the flight, thinking about a plane crash and about a column I deemed to be an omen. But now I realize that that paranoia was proof of an increased "soul consciousness". I dread hell, not death.

I used to enjoy turbulence (mid-flight tremors usually caused by clouds). I couldn't deny the thrill of seeing gray clouds whizzing by the window while the aircraft is experiencing a violent "air-quake". You know, the thrill of the thought of plummeting towards earth and then surviving the crash and then getting famous.

When I prayed harder, the fear subsided and the thrill came back.

A brief roundup of things that keep me busy these days.

A few days before I came home, I bought my first Zafra book. I'd longed to buy one a few years back, noticing this dark woman with her trademark horn-rimmed glasses filling in a considerable space in the Philippine books section. Unfortunately, I never got the daring to risk a hundred and a few bucks on a pile of essays. Besides, I had this stupid, unpatriotic inkling that the younger Filipino writers suck. The problem was, I was never interested in books written by Filipinos. I was once one of those who were into hypes and trends, those who thought that the best books always come out as bestsellers.

Not anymore.

So far, Jessica Zafra is keeping me company in the toilet (among other places), tickling me and giving me fresh ways of looking at things. Reading Tw7sted feels like reading a blog. (By the way, I heard she has a blog now, I'll check it out later.) Well, why shouldn't it, it's a collection of her columns on Today, silly.

I can't write more on this as, then again, time is running out. Let's just say that whenever I want to etch my laugh lines, "Twisted" is the word.

o0o

Belated happy Halloween, everyone!

Great. I haven't posted for weeks!

Sorry!

I've been frequenting our town's lone cybercafe since last week, but I couldn't seem to form a sensible thing to say. Blogger's block? Maybe. But I think it was more like blogger's sloth.

So. What have I been doing the past two weeks?

I told you about a three-day retreat in my last post. Yeah, it was great. Not in the sense that we had some rowdy party going on in there. Feasts, maybe, as meals there were always served ala fine restaurant, complete with several forks, spoons, and knives, sans the waiter though. It was great because there I found myself reconciled with God, realizing all my human frailties and atoning for all my sins and resolving to be a real Christian. I know, I know, perhaps you're thinking some religioso dork had stolen the real Daryl's password or had hacked him or something else technical. But I tell you, this is me. Flesh, blood, bones, and spirit. Same as before...only better.

To talk about the spiritual awakening that happened to me within those three days would be a long story. I'm low on money right now, so I'd better be telling you other great tidings.

The camera. Ha, the camera! Finally got it! It was the first object I sought when I came home. It was amazing. I couldn't believe it was mine. Mine! It has all the features I need. At least for now. But yeah, I love it! Thank God for Auntie Luz!

Now you're asking me: "so where are your photos?" Sadly, this monopolistic cybercafe only has one floppy drive--that of the admin. And it's lotsa hassle to bug them to do installations or even to upload a file from a diskette through the main unit. Guess I'll only be able to set up a photoblog or post my own photos when I get back to Manila.

My time is almost up. I'll post when I can.