gengki the newbie

in the virgin forest i enter. gengki spanks and smites. love is all you need but then again i need chocolate too.

 

KRIS AQUINO BASHING

i noticed that the comments on my last blog about a horrible MRT ride turned into an exchange of spits and flowers for our one and only popular daughter of a president--Kris Aquino.

Hay nako. i believe in the gold mine theory. as in like there is a goldmine in each one of us. but Kris has to dig deeper to find that gold mine (as an actress) in her or maybe she wouldn't want to dig since her porcelain hands might be soiled from digging.

she sucks big time paminsan, pero i saw some shining light for 30 secs when i saw her act in the first MANO PO. that's for 30 secs. well, hayaan na natin siya. buti na lang anak siya ni NINOY at ni CORY at maputi siya, kung hindi san na lang siya pupulutin ngayon. for all we know, she really wants to be an actress and she's trying her darndest to prove that she CAN. kaso nga lang...

ayun lang.

* * * * * * *

somebody asked me out on a date...
then suddenly im 18 again...

well, they don't come everyday queueing up for me..

posted by: gengcooker at 15:30 | link | comments (9) |

ONE GOOD DAY COMING UP?

I beg to disagree. I maybe a bit of a nega-star here but good days aren't served on a silver platter or even on a cup of coffee. Or maybe I am subconsciously jealous of the way this Makati girl in the Nescafe ad goes about her day waking up at 7am in her fancy shmancy bed, sipping coffee in her fancy shmancy cup and sifting through the 7am air atop her fancy shmancy terrace.

HA!

The likes of this girl experiencing that great-day-ahead-of-me-in-a-condo-unit comprise only 1% of the entire Makati girl/laborer population. Wait till you get kicked out of your condo unit and try mingling with the hoi polloi on the MRT at 8am. I'm sorry, im spitting knives again. There is a valid reason. Well, aside from my right to spit shrapnels in this blog, i just had the most horrible MRT ride of my life.

I am at the Q. Ave station 8am on the dot. 3 trains has passed and I'm still standing on the yellow platform edge. To which a lady announces, through a PA system, not to step on it. The fourth train can be sighted. I lay silent amidst all the whore fumbling of the people at my back. I realized I can project patience while looking at Kris Aquino's ad of her film Feng Shui. Everybody sees a ray of light upon seeing through the door that there is small space enough for a kid to reach 3rd level of a piko game. Everybody gets giddy and the confident me, since I am on the front, didn't know that my face would be shoved making my cheeks and breasts kiss and befriend the door. At last, I am inside. Somebody says that kawawa naman yung babae tinulak niyo. Punyeta kayo, ako yun.

I noticed that Cubao station passengers are important people willing to do anything to make it on time. They can't understand that we are already on the last fold of the newspaper in a newspaper dance game. They still insist on pushing themselves inside. So at 8:15, where Cubao people are thicker than any other station in the MRT, I knew what was to happen. Durugan na ito.

It was still the same level of sardine scenario up until i get off at Buendia. Grabe. One could faint standing up in Cubao and wake standing up in Buendia. I wish they'd invent more trains. Buti na lang i didn't wear my powerhouse Makati outfit.

Sige nga. You go tell that girl in the nescafe ad if good days are served and always coming up. Maswerte ka't may nalalaman kang condo unit dyan. I still had a good day though. Well, i insisted on having a good day honey, but they don't serve it for free. Especially if you're living in a third world country like ours. You have to demand your good days, they don't come bouncing and serving you over a cup of coffee. In fairness, type ko yung earrings ng girl dun.

posted by: gengcooker at 09:09 | link | comments (9) |

OO, gusto kita...

Wella just rang me today overseas at the office. Full 1 hour of hagikgik and chika at the expense of my idle office hours. She said that she wants to tell this guy that she likes him. She did that to three different guys already. All rooted with the same ferocity and power that she has for these unworthy people. She declared that she liked them enough to jump into a relationship. A normal relationship.



Hay, but these guys aren't worth a whit of the brevity she has for them. Magmumukha na naman daw siyang tanga. That's not katangahan. I call it katapangan. Not in a way parallel to Gabriela Silang but it takes past ghosts, pancreas, adrenalin and temporary insanity to tell a MALE that you like him. It's personal puking of guts. The feeling is like that of worming into a hole ala back to the future. After that, you'll be a blast. It's like you gave birth via caesarean section sans the anesthesia.



Rejection maybe the biggest and worst cushion to fall back on after a male-likeness confession. But as i said, its a cushion. It won't hurt that much.



I envy Wella for feeling that way. The intensity you feel for someone and the stuff you go through just to tell it. I mean, how? Where do people get it? Where does Wella get it? I miss it. Being in love. Feeling and falling extremes for someone you hardly know.



I did the same thing twice. Way back. I was rejected on the first time. He's now in California. The second one didn't reject me, he pricked me. I bled.



Here's to you my Wella and here's to me! And here's to the force that be-- LOVE.

posted by: gengcooker at 12:58 | link | comments (3) |

posted by: gengcooker at 07:38 | link | comments |

ASIDE FROM BEING RAPED...

1. I bought a local comic book. ZSA ZSA ZATTURNAH. wahahaha... its written by carlo vergara. totally hilarious. a parloristang darna in it's gayest super hero form. i die farting in the mrt while reading this komiks. oh, you can read it in just one sitting from ayala station to north ave. total page turner. total attention grabber from the weary masses since they'll be curious what the fuck is this girl laughing about. warning to homophobics who will read this comics, you will spontaneously combust in the mid makati air. hahaha!

2. i am now again living in with my friend samner. it's the apartment one tumbling away from ABSCBN. it's been 3 months since i left the house, now i feel like my OC grandma is having an out of body experience. The place is a mess. Stowper said that it's worse than Joe's Apartment. I will launch a general cleaning by saturday. of course, that's only on our room. lots of unwanted rickety stuff and old laundry. the alikabok always gets in our room, we don't even live across EDSA. it's remarkable how all these dust find their ways into our CDS, beds, books in just one night.

3. a friend mailed me and asked me how was my lovelife. well, i was thinking about it the whole day. Stowper asked me if someone was nanliligaw. I thought bout it again. and then the perennial answer was: what lovelife? i never knew such compound words existed. seriously, i have a crush. not in the workplace. not in our village, not in the cyberworld. Now, you call that a lovelife?

4. i had a divine epiphany last friday. i was usually walking along ayala and the glorietta malls and i felt so blessed. i don't know. i thanked God for evrything i had on, literally. the clothes-- how did it came to be like that. the shoes--- on where did i get the money to buy it. the bra--- on how comfortable it is with my breasts. the book--- (Zsa Zsa Zatturnah) on how it really made me happy. the pretzels--- on how it would make my friend happy just by eating it.

5. i watched Troyanas the play by Tanghalang Pilipino. It was about the aftermath of the Trojan war, much like the fall of troy. I didn't really liked it. The plot, i think, or how it was related. It was too heavy and too feminist. It was how war (Trojan war) can wreak havoc on women. By the way, it's postmodern so chariots and Roman palda-like uniforms (the ones donned by Eric Bana) aren't in sight but type A CAT uniforms took the romp. I just didn't get how'd they come up with the kimonos.

There are segues on girl power stuff like " bakit ang mga lalaki, kapag pinapasahan mo ng load, iba ang itetext".  To which i retort: Honey, you don't pick a guy who cannot buy himself a friggin prepaid. It was too angry. I feel that anytime during the play, Gabriela Silang will make a cameo role. Shemaine Buencamino as Andromache was a lemonade splash. She relaxed the kunot-noo feel of the play. Helen of Troy in a barber's cut and black halter top singing some French lullaby proved to be bitchy and beautiful. I just thought that war isn't just against women, it's against everyone-- dicks, transplants and all. Personally, i've had enough of feminist angsts.

Current dream job: Projects Coordinator of the GMA Kapuso Foundation.

posted by: gengcooker at 12:54 | link | comments (7) |

MANG RENATO! HUWAG PO... HUWAG PO...

That was my inner dialogue. Period.

The director told me that i am not supposed to scream or kick the balls of my rapist.

I am a clammy girl. I am the daughter of the village whore. I am ridiculed for my mum's classic profession. My mum and i are alone in the world and she is sick. I love my mum. I have to find a way to cure her and get out of this forsaken town even if it takes shamanistic rituals to do it. I call our friendly neighborhood albularyo to summon spirits and orders me to get a sacrificial black hen come midnight full moon. I have the friggin hen with me only to lose it in a sugar cane field. Desperate, I look for the pasaway hen in the tubohan. Mang Renato, an anak-pawis trike driver, passed by drunk and suddenly had the bright idea of raping me. And thus came my first rape scene in the span of my acting career.

It was the typical rape scene sa barrio kind of thing. It's just like what we see on films where we, as viewers, try to mentally instruct the probinsyana lass to grab him by the balls or kick him in the groin or bite his cheek for crying out loud so that you could escape. This time I was the rapee, I am now that probinsyana lass you tried to instruct. All I could say to people like me who grunts about girls not fighting the rapist when it looks so breezy to kick and grab--- Ate, kaw kaya dito?

Of course, its not ok to be raped. Naman! My powers were drained similarly to that drained feeling of LBM. It was the first time i closed my eyes so tight enough to tighten my pores. Screaming didn't do much to let the rapist know that you do NOT agree with what he is doing. It was stickingly moist and chilly. Your arms are weighed and pinned down. You hallucinate that the grasses and the sugar canes will somehow come alive to rescue you, but you realize they won't move and give a shit. And then cut!

I could just imagine if i was really raped. A different man slathering saliva all over your johnson's baby powdered neck. A different man making kiskis over your johnson's baby milk lotioned arms. heeeeegahhd! The horror! The trauma! After that scene, the rapist/actor (a friend of mine), relaxed and got over it. I still lay there splat on the grass like a rejected pechay. Ate, mahirap pala ma-rape.

Chippendale, a male and our DOP, immediately moved the camera and said we had to take a different point of view. Wait, you’re not helping me move on. Nakita mo na ngang na-rape ako eh, nakahandusay at kalunos-lunos tapos yan lang ang isu-suggest mo? You heartless creature. Our director, a female, understood the way my eyes made tirik upon his remark and told me to rest for 5 minutes. I am no Sharon Cuneta here but at least empathize with me. I didn't move for 5 minutes then we did it again in three different angles.

If i hadn't been clumsy and tried to hold still the pasaway hen then i wouldn't have lost it in the sugar cane field and i wouldn't have to be raped.

Now, I am cinematically deflowered.

posted by: gengcooker at 18:40 | link | comments (11) |

MUSINGS ON A MISSING DESTINATION AND OTHER MUSINGS

Andrea invited me to go to the launch of Ricci Guevara's album/book sa Conspiracy. I used to remember Ricci telling me over shawarma that she wants to have some of her poems done in some kind of music---- cd at that. When i went over at her launch, all i could say was congratulations and reminded her how these things was just a figment under our smelly breaths. She said she would do all things that she tells--- smelly breath or not.

Let's get back to Andrea. As stated in her most recent blog, this launch was her past. College literary past. For me, it was not literary past that rang in since I never really had a literary past in college except for one time that i had to recite a series of nursery rhymes about the ampalaya plant (my own doing of course) in a TWG poetry night at the Colayco park. The people who watched me recite that gave me a grin of appreciation ( Those people are kids with Palancas in their names right now) Feeling poet naman ako. Ronnie, an outrageous classmate, let alone a big holler after my recital like some crazy stage mother.

Now, what kind of past made bulaga to me? Pathetic-drunken loser-suicidal-crying near the pool in a fucking two-piece kind of college past. All the people who reminded me how much a sucker i am were there. As much as i had many shining moments in college, i had a sucker phase.

Upon entering the place, my tooth began to ache as if some spider sense for me to be forwarned. What was to be forwarned? Ohhh.... the Girl was there. She breezed me through as if im a banana plant. Well, it was just one person and her legions of doom. Anyway, this wasn't my crowd. I mean, i had real friends there whom i have exchanged nights staring at the AB building beholding its beauty, being silent and just gallivanting, but it wasn't MY crowd. At this point i had to find out where the fuck is my inviter.

text message at 10:30 pm: Uy pasensha na ha. kakalabas ko lang sa work. makati pa ako.

Ayos lang noh! Situations like these make me greatful of my God-given talent. Acting! Paulie, who's taking up masters in community development, once told me that in every group of 3, there is a performer. Society is one big stage and everyone is performing. So, perform i did! Buti na lang some of my theatre friends came by and i was rescued from my Stanislavsky performance. Andrea came and gave me an affirmed hug. My former director in ABS-CBN was there and to my horror of horrors introduced me to his new boyfriend--- a former professor. My Dad's bible study mate, tita alma miclat, was there and recognized me as if i was a bouncing baby girl. Barbie Almabis, a beautiful babe, was sitting adjacent to our table. And the world was alright.

Wait, I am going nowhere on my musings on a missing destination. Its' not exactly missing honey. It's here in me, it's within reach. I'm holding onto it but the real world is putting "thorns" all over it. I let out a good cry days ago beacuse the "thorns" have been cutting in deep. We are four in a batch in PETA. We were, somehow, always together attending movement workshops, helping out for a project, doing ushers in plays, watching dance performances, teaching kids how to act, attending aesthetic conferences, hanging out in penguin, drinking til 8am. Kitchie is now lead role in ASL please...., Nono is there to act, Nex handles the APM side and I am in Makati doing a report for friggin advertisers in the Olympics. Alin ang naiba? Makes me want to burst out in that Batibot song.

My batchmates comforted me. At least i make dough daw. It's just one production, we can still be together for the company training. Aww... mga friends nga naman. They have put some bandage on my bleeding arms and told me to still hold on kahit na maging pako na ang mga thorns.

My dad angrily blurted out one vodka night that he doesn't believe in starving artists. My dad has rockstar attitude. It would take a book to explain why.

posted by: gengcooker at 13:16 | link | comments (4) |