here first. until we are there.

a dog whining at the door

i’ve been hiding behind west wing episodes and my work. and i am more aware of when and how long my window of HAPPY lasts during the day.

there are certain things i know have changed. i think i’m just pissed that they have.

is there so much tv because people don’t want to look at themselves?
oh do you know that ramadan is when there is the most television shows produced for nations that do celebrate ramadan? this is so because most families are together when they break their fast after the sun sets.

and even as i type these sentences out, a voice in my head is telling me just how all this is crap.

between your devils and your better angels.

today, the priest’s homily was something about exploration, and i’m not really sure what he was talking about. All i know is that it involved an arthur c. clarke. but it’s an interesting topic to hear in Church whose power rests in the fact that She been so stubborn and still for most of the time that she has existed.

will let the dog in.

——————–

salman rushdie is really good. i’ve found him. i’ve finally found a book of his that i can read. i’ve tried satanic verses, i’ve tried midnight’s children. this one is the book that i want to continue reading. i’ve taken him in small bites, like we’re having a love affair. and i want to take it slow because when it ends, i’m sure i’m going to stray. besides, i’m sure he has other love affairs going on. he has that thing with that hot hot hot hot model going on.

there’s a picture on the web of salman rushdie beside his model girlfriend is just as imposing(!) as the picture of umberto eco he has on his latest books, holding these arches up. or at least thinking that he has to hold the frigging arch up.

men, you are old and you are distinguished. stop acting like you’re auditioning for the new abercrombie and fitch ad.

though i must say that the need to be cool that is beneath many great writers’ talent is extremely endearing on most days.

——————————————-

shalimar the clown begins with a woman’s strange sleeping habits. i just fell into the story. the stories about power that are in the book are interesting.
in the way that i want to have maita, larry, miguel and fabian over to talk and talk and talk and talk.

——————————————-

i listened to nu’s halikinu radio show last friday because mikey’s band was going to be featured at the end. and being the bitch that i am, i must say that i hated just how stupid the hosts sounded.

but what annoyed me more was that they couldn’t stop making pot shots at the mess DLSU has created with its admission / eligibility problems.

it’s their mess. it doesn’t make us better. nothing they can do will make us a better school.

only we can do that.

it sucks.

and as much as college was a blur to me, i know that i had some really great teachers and really great classmates.

my dad likes to tell me that seven years from now, cum laudes and all that don’t matter in the workplace. i like it because he was a magna cum laude and i’m just glad i graduated. schools don’t really form people, especially college — it’s too late.

well, it does sell air time. it does make people listen. but come on.

-end bitching session-

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