Twist my head

The weekend before the summit commenced, I had desperately wished for an asthma attack. I guess it showed the universe really has a way of showing its sadistic streak. My medication however, proved that steroids really are a life saver for folks like me. Then there goes my liver. I'm not even going to bemoan about the summit because it was pure torture.

I'm due for a review or two of tracks; my time is running out and my mind is not yet into it. But I promised you, Chard, I'll submit at least one by the end of the month. And speaking of books, you bet your lily white arse I'm still not done with Shakespeare. The temptation that lies between Bassanio and Antonio cannot even seduce me to finish it. And I'd rather not sweat spinal fluid over a hardbound Brothers Karamazov for sale on ebay, which will end in less than thirty minutes. Should I? It seems I'm only good in collecting books and not reading them. As for the opportunity of applying for a master's degree--it's still in the back of my mind. Why not, after all.

And what in the flying shit? When did this family ever give a damn about this earth hour, which we never bothered to participate for last few years it was promoted. It would be a long time coming before this planet goes boom, and it's not going to be my problem so to hell with it.

Sell the world short

Wishing for a hard doze of asthma attack this week. Maybe that's going to be a big help with my miserable work. The pressure is brimming to the point that I might as well nick 10k or something with the summit budget in cold cash inside my backpack. I fucking well deserve it. Go ask my bosses for confirmation. I'm wishing more than I can ever hope for this coming week to keel over like a big universe mistake of having a fourth week in March. I owe Sir Glenn bigtime for all the stress I've put on him so before he goes ciao on us for his GSC, I'm handing him some token of thanks. It would be a boon if he gets to be CS someday and still remember the kid who gave him a stylus. Asking favours would be easier then. Haha.

I'm all for turning the night in, but fighting the drowsiness is a natural reflex I guess. David Bowie is not helping matters even if I'm only starting to appreciate his record after several months of rotting in my iPod. My plans for a master's degree flew all the way to Quebec for all I care. The maxim 'live the moment' or something similar is literally applied in my quotidian life. Everything's a passing blur. Fickle living is what I'm best at. Levity too if you put all things I take up, which I tend to handle seriously in an I'm-a-big-hypocrite mode.

How much is at stake at the current lottery? Wishful thinking to drown in money is pathetic when I'm not even bothering to place my bets. Perhaps someday when I can spare my twenty bucks on a piece of paper instead of a Coke or a some hellish food.

When I started watching Bleach I already was into several fandom fanfics. To say it was a challenge to associate an unfamiliar name with a face (done through Google images) when the anime has a considerable horde of characters, is beyond comprehension of a Neanderthal. I'm starting to do that with Katekyo Hitman Reborn too, which I really could not help. I'm addicted with Yamamoto and Hibari and I'm struggling with the anime's plot. It's fun nonetheless because I'm reading a well written fic. A little effort on my part would not kill me when it gives me respite.

Beastly burden

Is that a good wake up call or something? Because reading the gospel according to my Esteemed Professor only added to the burden of my doubt. I know my half-wit drive to apply for a master's degree that's so far off my major I barely think the Sombrero Galaxy is near enough to hit the mark can compensate for that mere fact. Guilt's not even part of what I'm firing off; it's more on the inability to produce enough reaction from my amygdala to warrant something that can even be defined as reaction. If it weren't such a pain to keel over, I would've done it a long, long time ago. There is such a state that is beyond pathetic. Zena also emailed that La Salle's admission for the upcoming semester is already over. I don't even have a decent job at the moment. I don't think I'll get a good one in the end though. But my current financial status wobbles enough to topple a hapless street urchin.

Nothing's new here

Rotating blackout my lovely arse, you fuckers. Our part of the town suffered an agonizing, heat drenched six hours of restless sleep just because all powerplants were lacked reservoir. Were they just informed about el nino yesterday? It did not help that I had to wake up at an unholy hour today just to request for recommendation letters from former professors.

It also really did not help that Dr. Ravara had to rebuke/discourage me for wasting my time applying for a master's degree in French; not that I can blame her, too. For all I care, I picked that course because 1) UP doesn't offer a master's degree in clinical psychology; 2) UP's the nearest and most decent school in proximity to my house; and 3) I'm in a desperate search for a hardcore motivation. And that's not something that can be easily expressed in my application letter to the office. I'm trying to be sincere with this master's issue, but I'm taking a piss in choosing a course I'm ambivalent about, and I'm not the least disturbed by it. Anyway, plan B is to seriously apply for a clinical degree. That would be my cul-de-sac after getting a reality check with this farce of a master's.

Anyway, off to football. A quarter of my mind is lamenting a week late after Real Madrid's loss (aggregate 1-2) against Lyon. That officially kicked the team out of the CL. Now their only hope is getting the La Liga title. I want to take chances and get myself thoroughly involved with the sport, but the time difference kills off the mood. Always. I can barely make it through a mental cheer up of waking in the wee hours of the morning to set up my laptop, and watch a two-hour coverage of a game. I'm a disappointing Madridista.

Viewfinder is now licensed. A one hell of a downer for this week, too. The funny thing though is I have all the latest chapters of the manga yet I live off on the fanfictions for the fandom. I've mostly built my knowledge of Viewfinder through these. Having the manga licensed means no more scanlations, and officially saying goodbye to the series. Sure, I can get updates when a new chapter comes up, but that hardly constitutes the satisfaction of having a copy of the chapter for yourself. I can understand the point of the LJ comm moderators' take on the good news--sensei worked hard for this; mangakas never get much; etc. But it's not like every country has a regular supply of mangas from Japan. I live in a moribund debilitated country, for heaven's sake. Mangas would be the last thing on the minds of Bureau of Customs to handle. Not that I'm crying injustice for this. It's not something worthy to tackle because everything's kosher now. I'm all just going plaintive with these events.

And it seems that the gist of this godforsaken post is to merely emphasize my lackluster drive to live to see another day. I'm all too sick of this, and I doubt listening to fifteen variaties of Canon will make the dull ache go away.

Sufferrr

That's the main point, yes. The project at the office is killing me with the preparations; god bless the fucking project manager for not being useless, just plain uninterested. To think the project is going by his name; I'm starting to think I should contest that. Anyway, it's just plain unfair, unjust and all untimely for me to have a scheduled meeting tomorrow morning, and for Real Madrid to take on Lyon at home in a few hours.

Pure karma.

Faulty concoction

I'm not sure why I'm still up. I'm poring over tons of Kakashi/Iruka fics on the net; trying to will the clock to get to five o'clock so I can still have the energy to watch the Real Madrid - Sevilla game (because Sergio Ramos would not miss an opportunity to see his Sevillan side clash with him being a Madridista); waiting for my In the Loop download to finish; and sharing a not so cold morning with Madonna's ballads. Not one of these really have a driving effect on my behalf to make me stay up this late. I know my body needs enough sleep before the work days start again, but I guess I'm trying to make up for the lost time. Credit to Richard for recommending In the Loop because we love the Brits more than the Americans. Oh yeah, mate. That made me think earlier if I should've indulged in some Eddie Izzard, but decided I'm too lazy to even click on VLC. That indolent, yes. I'm beyond pathetic, never mind my sedentary lifestyle. I'm sure diabetes will welcome me with banners in a few years' time.

On a disturbing and pointless note, I just realized Madonna's You Must Love Me is actually from Evita. Pure inutility on my part; knowing the song for nearly a decade, and not even knowing where it came from. To think I also saw Madonna's Evita a few years back, but I was busy ogling Antonio Banderas to really pay attention to her. I always correlated that song with one of Madonna's music videos. You know, that one where she tried to fend off paparazzi, got inside a stranger's house, saw a kid looking at her, and then holding the kid while singing a ballad. Now I'm pretty distressed since I can't guess the right song for that video.

Spearing ahead

I haven't seen the project manager for so long I forgot how downright off, annoying and a step away from bragging his non-existent genius. That instant of having a dementia obviously gave away the fact that I've decided to take up the project as an on call researcher for a few months. It's a given that project manager won't be attending most of the weekly meetings, which shall extend my respite on officers who think just because they get to dirty their hands with blood and mud, that they also know the whole fart science of the universe. He just had to appear yesterday, and then decided that he had enough time to spare me a high mass on how to organize and construct useless thoughts about the summit. I had to suffer a poker face for almost an hour without trying to appear having a bite of levity. I might as well be the project manager for all the organization, documentation and sincerity I've put up for the project. The good thing out of this project is acquainting with the psychologists/civilian employees who bear enough reason to have enough healthy neurons that stir, proved on every meeting. It would not be a big problem if I decided to take up a practicum at the hospital since I'm already rubbing elbows with the head of psychiatry. Other than that, the entire project, as I've just fully realize without the constant plea of mental denial, is an epic failure. The team is only throwing two million bucks to try and revise the aptitude test, which has a passing and failing rule. Goodness, those OTAG people who had decided that an aptitude test should have a passing rate, chop the subtests from eight to three, and ignore the fund for revision every two years obviously didn't see the light of taking the test itself. They would not have the capacity to hold high positions if they were. That said, my contract is still hanging in the air since CPAD chief is in Cebu for some workshop or something. I'm not going to even delve over the futile aspect of nicking additional moolah over the martinet project manager.

My Bleach addiction all but faded into the ether after getting a measly, pathetic job this month. I miss having a great laugh over the omakes but from what Mark has told me, the anime and manga are still in the miserable stage of not knowing how to get a pinch out of Aizen. I seriously need a protagonist or two to die to achieve some maturity, and stop trying to lunge at Aizen unprepared. Naruto's plot, in the mean time, is having the time of its career with Naruto and Sasuke facing it off this week. Mark apparently didn't take my order of going online to chat about it seriously so I have to take it up on myself to check the latest chapter. Sasuke's apparently doing a damn good job of flying off the handle over Konoha. Can he at least cut off Naruto's arm or something? No, I don't think so. Naruto's not owned by CLAMP for the matter. Besides, Kakashi is the acting Hokage at the moment, and it kind of suits my favoured OTP right now. Who else is better paired with Kakashi other than Iruka?

On my telly program related news, I'm all for Siobhan Magnus and Lilly Scott. Siobhan totally slayed Aretha's Think. Her high note was a bit too pitchy for me but her technique is way better than Adam Lambert's. Lilly reminds me a lot of Bjork and her idiosyncrasies. Not to say that Lilly's that unhinged like Bjork, but she has a quirky style. I'm not paying attention to the boys. The judges, I think, are favouring that Aaron kid who will only look like a second rate David Archuleta if ever he has the guts to step up to the game.