Etcetera

185 days, 13 hours, 20 minutes, and 46 seconds left until the publication of

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince!

My muse hasn't come back yet but I feel like writing. Please don't read if you're expecting this to be in some way or form logical or profound. It's not. I just feel like writing. Even if it's a whole bunch of such non-sense.

I had a treat last night, given by Jas. And I gave him my xmas gift, the second book by Bob Ong. Jas sent a text message (I was already sleeping, a surprise really given that I have a whole bunch of treats to watch!) that he was laughing/crying because of the book. Tee hee. Bob Ong clearly illustrates the funny side of Pinoy culture. Whether it is negative or positive Pinoy moment, Bob Ong finds a way to deliver with hilarity, jologs style. I like it. I'm glad Jas liked it too. (Mahal kasi ang 'Einstein's...' so ibang book na lang binigay ko, mas enjoy pa.) I already read the book that he gave me. It's really stimulating rather than informative. hehe.

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We went out last night because I was suddenly feeling depressed. I browsed Friendster for the first time in so many months and even before I reached and browsed one half of the pages of all my friends, I counted 4, yes, FOUR, people who changed status (from In a Relationship to Married!) and this only among my age group! I was suddenly feeling old, lonely, spinster-like, grumpy and all sorts of negative things permeate my whole body. Harry and Draco couldn't lift me up, so I got up and called Jas. I need coffee. I need a friend. I hate Friendster and I'll never browse again. So there you go. I drove all the way to Makati and promptly talked about silly things over coffee (you think we'll talk about business, the economy or how to achieve world peace? Think again. )

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I waited for Jas in Powerbooks. Ah, I love bookstores. Hundreds of titles lined up, right before my very eyes. I already had my Neil Gaiman books, Coelho, Neruda...(I scanned the price of 100 Sonnets of Neruda that I bought a year or two ago, maybe I can give it to RV, but nevermind, he can use Bob Ong's humor), and I already went to my Children's (Artemis Fowl, etc.) phase, even a Bridget Jones phase (those 'you-go-girl' books like Shopaholics and others) and I'm looking for another genre that I can sink my teeth into. I don't have a lot of time to read next month because I'm going to start my practicum (teaching) so I have to squeeze in as many books as I can this month. Hmmm...Sci fi? I have a bunch of Star Wars, Thriller? I have my Anne Rice's erotic thrillers. I badly want to try reading those 'difficult' books, (some I bought years ago when I was under a very DARK influence in my life who just loves those kinds of books, just so I can try reading but I ended up scanning and getting gists....gah! the things I did for unrequited love...) Well, anyway, I ended up reading Harry again while waiting for Jas. *sigh* How will I broaden my horizons if I'm so addicted to anything Harry? Just Harry?

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I dream of living on my own before I get married. BUT getting married is still so farfetched from my plane of reality and living on my own is just but a daydream. I like his place, cozy and so --- yuppie and independent. Jologs in our hearts, I borrowed his Sandara Parks CD and he said okay as long as I leave his Erik Santos CD. No need to borrow Erik's CD, my sis has the original.

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What exactly is desperation? I like telling people I'm desperate, but then, my friends will point out that I'm not (sooner or later they will agree just to shut me up). I just know what I want and I have standards, but I still am desperate to find him. So I think I'm desperate. But they said that desperation is when I do all sorts of stupid things (I do! I do!) just to get the attention of a guy that doesn't really deserve to be the object of said desperate measures because of lack of face value or something similar, (why will I go apply desperate measures to some guy I'm not even attracted to?). That is desperation, Jas told me. Oh well, even I'm confused to the actual definition, but I'll try to limit my announcement of said desperation to a few friends, that won't go blabbing to anyone how desperate I am, so that I can appear not-desperate and still be believable. Does that make sense? I hope not, because even I can't understand what I wrote.

I promise I'll stop corrupting my blog with nonsense babble after I wrote about all the things I'm thinking about. It's not healthy to leave these mundane, stupid thoughts in my head so I'll have to write it all down. (Hmmm, I think I'll change the title of my blog to Elaney's Pensieve...this certainly acts like a Pensieve to me.) I have friends who are different from me. So different in fact that it's sometimes frustrating to me (and also to said friends) because we can't see eye to eye. Although it makes life more interesting, sometimes it's really easy to just talk with friends who, though they might not agree with what you're saying, can see where you're coming from. Oh well. Friends are great because though they reflect the best me, they also reflect the worst of me. I can also do Denial Queen in an instant without blinking an eye. ( I just don't do Self-Denial that well...) Tee hee, my friends are just more patient with me than I am with them.

Alright. Last thought.

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I like Ocean's Eleven better than Ocean's Twelve. I don't know why. Okay, yes I do. Maybe because what they did before was simple, yet so effective a plot to steal. I find that the more elaborate the scheme is, the less fond I am of the outcome. After all the work and drama and personnel that they used, if they are still left with no mask, I'll really really think they're not the Ocean's Eleven I know. Hmm, I like the scenes, I like the confusion and the guessing game of what really happened, but I still like Ocean's Eleven better. Many will argue, but that's just me.

I love that movie so much that I have 2 copies of DVD, I memorized what will happen next and I can hear the music playing in my ear when I sometimes have a task to do. I love that movie so much that I expected Ocean's Twelve to be better. Maybe that's the downfall of Twelve for me, high expectations born out of Eleven.

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I'll end this by saying...I'll read 'Star Dust' by Gaiman again. To avoid desperation, Sci-fi/ Fantasy books are the cure.