*too sleepy to think of a title*

Brother and sister duo Dylan and Lauren

To call the past two weeks "harrowing" is an understatement.

Two big book events happened a couple of weeks ago, which resulted in me having to wake up at 6 in the morning all of last week. And if you know me, you know that those are UNGODLY hours. And I had to take cabs to the venues because I couldn't trust myself enough to stay awake on a jeepney.

I didn't mess up at the events -- I am nothing if not a trooper -- but it did wreak havoc on my sleep. And it bled into last week, where I would often find myself groggily looking at my laptop's monitor trying to will stories out of it. It wasn't until yesterday that I finally got a lengthy amount of rest.

I'm yawning even as type this out now. Used to be, I could pull all-nighters and still function perfectly the next day. Now I have to get my eight hours in. I hate being old.

On the bright side, my leave has been approved! I just need to get my funds and it's off to Singapore for me!

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I haven't heard of Maureen Johnson or read any of her books, but I do like what she has to say in her blog post Sell the Girls.

And I have to thank her for providing the link to the interview that proves without a doubt that Nicholas Sparks is a grade A douchenozzle.

To quote:

"Sparks' favorite tale of youth? 'I think A Walk to Remember,' he says, citing his own novel. 'That's my version of a coming-of-age.'"

You should read the part where he compares his novels to Greek tragedies.

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I used to be a wrestling fan in the faraway days of my youth. Maybe that's why this is intriguing to me.

A weekend of screaming, part 1

Not as prominently displayed at the concert as I hoped.

I went to the Rain concert yesterday night at the SM Mall of Asia, expecting more of the craziness I encountered when I went to the Super Junior concert at the Araneta Coliseum. And I guess I did get what I wished for.

Just as with the Super Junior concert, the lines were already long hours before the concert even began. But despite that, everyone was pretty well-behaved. When they started herding everyone into the venue, everyone was still on their best behavior. I thought that it would actually be a pretty sedate crowd compared to the Super Junior kids.

How wrong I was.

When I finally managed to get in, the people in the VIP area were already four rows deep, which I didn't mind at first because I'm not really a big K-Pop fan. However, as more and more people kept coming in, I became more and more concerned.

You see, most of the people I was sharing the VIP area with were either Koreans or teenage girls. I will most definitely sound racist and ageist after I type this down, but it has to be said -- these two groups can go really batshit crazy at events like these when push comes to shove. But I tried not to think about it, even if one the fans (a Korean teenager OMG) kept pressing her boobs against my back.

I got an inkling of trouble when Christian Bautista -- one of the two front acts -- took the stage. Because from behind me, I felt what could be best described as a Korean rush. You could feel them pushing forward en masse and if it were not for the other Filipinos I was with they would have broken through the ranks.

But that was just the first attempt. U-KISS was up next.

This is U-KISS.

Perhaps my countrymen were distracted by the Korean teenagers onstage -- one of the members of U-KISS is only 16-years-old -- because when the Koreans pushed again, the barricade gave way like a battalion of Orcs being trampled by the Rohirrim. Since I was the only one standing firm, I ended up being carried by the current all the way up to the second row.

While all of that was happening, the Korean girl behind me kept pressing her boobs against my back, distressing me enough to tweet this:

And yet, I still wasn't prepared for what happened when Rain finally came out. Because when he finally did, it was crazy.

I guess you can't blame them.

When Rain came out, the girl behind me practically heaved me and everyone else forward, and pretty soon I found myself against the railings. The Korean teenager was right behind another girl, and she had both her hands and a leg grabbing onto the railings for dear life. By this time the other concert goers were furious and were yelling at her to stop pushing. Korean girl replies in an indignant voice that she is not pushing, even as she looks the way she does.

All throughout Rain's performance, Korean teenager was screaming her head off. "Oppa! Oppa! Opppppaaaaaaa!!!!" followed by really heavy breathing. She may have been convulsing too but I didn't care to look. I was, however, curious as to what "Oppa" meant.

The craziest and most hilarious thing about the concert, though, was the fact that it ran so short. I barely had enough time to get my metaphorical panties in a bunch before Rain was bowing to the audience and departing the stage. I wasn't too bummed out, but the guys all around me had this shattered look in their eyes.

Afterwards, I went out with a bunch of friends to a karaoke place and screamed my lungs out, as I did precious little of it during the concert itself. A fun time was had by all, especially since one of us got hilariously drunk.

Epic self-love

The past week has been pretty hectic for me, what with interviews coming one after the other. It wouldn't be so bad if they were set in the comfortable hours of the late afternoon, when I am no longer groggy, but most of them were set WAY TOO EARLY in the morning. It's a miracle that I didn't make a fool of myself at any one of them.

Next week isn't looking any better either, as the Manila International Book Fair rolls into town. I'll probably be holed up in there for most of next week, and while it's an event I really enjoy covering, it still takes a lot out of you physically.

A big part of what keeps me going is the vacation I've got planned for myself. Thanks to a rather fortunate event, it looks that I will indeed be able to take a short vacation outside of the country. As long as nothing unexpected happens, I may be joining in Singapore for a few days!

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I'd be sleeping soundly too if I had the time to wank four to five times a day.

So, James Franco just said that he masturbates four to five times a day. That's a lot of times for someone who isn't in the 16 to 18 year old age range.

At least now I have a ready answer when somebody asks me what James Franco is probably doing right now.

Sort of related, here's a compilation of ten horrible masturbation stories.

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I was totally a Tommy/Kimberly shipper.

Growing up, I followed the Power Rangers religiously up until the movie came out, after which I lost interest. I didn't really think anyone of them would be gay. I would wish that Tommy was, but that's about it.

Now, it turns out that the Blue Ranger is one of teh gays. Imagine that.

Logan Lerman as D'Artagnan in 3 Musketeers.

Yes, Percy Jackson's wig really is that horrible. Funnily enough, it reminds me of the epic Hans Jensen interview.

The universe and a dead girl

That picture up there is apparently the universe in full. I can't help but be reminded of Orion's Belt. And yes, I am aware that he was talking about a galaxy and not the universe.

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I've been feeling a little down on myself lately, which I guess is odd since everybody around me has been nothing but supportive of the boring sideshow that I call my life. This past week I've felt nothing but trepidation and anxiety over the smallest of things.

Hopefully, a short break from work will help fix things, because I will be taking one next month. I still haven't fixed the particulars, but I'm thinking of maybe going somewhere outside of the city for a few days. That plan, however, is heavily dependent on how much money I have. Here's hoping that I get the chance to escape.

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Child plays dead on Google Street View, horrifies a nation.

Just as most of the commenters pointed out, why didn't the guys inside the Google car get out and check if the kid was still breathing or something? I mean, she wasn't really dead, but what if she was?

A lesson in humility

The calendar on my laptop tells me that it's been a month since I last blogged, and I can't really offer a decent excuse as to why that is. Work? Real life? My unfortunate dependency on Twitter? I'll use whatever reason is acceptable.

My life, so far, seems to be in the doldrums, as always seem to happen halfway along the year. My life isn't bad but it isn't spectacular either. It's more of a "meh" edging precariously towards a "bleugh".

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One meme that has been making the rounds lately is the I Write Like... quiz, which analyzes your writing and compares you to brilliant writers or Stephenie Meyer. Of course I had to take the test.

First, I put in a sample blog post of mine, specifically The Pee Lady, and hoped for the best.

I got this result.

I write like
Cory Doctorow

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

In case you don't know who Cory Doctorow is, check him out here.

Of course I was emboldened by such a favorable result. I had to do this with everything else I've written. I. HAD. TO.

I first put in my short story Night Out, which was the first time my fiction ever got awarded anything.

While waiting for the results to appear I was quietly thinking "Good golly gosh, I wonder which writer I idolize will I end up being compared to?" Then I got this.

I write like
Dan Brown

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I think I had a stroke or something, because for a few moments I could not move except to open and close my mouth like a goldfish. I consoled myself by thinking that this was when I was just starting out and probably reflected how green I was back then.

So I put in two more stories, Writer's Block and Absolution, hoping for better results.

I write like
Dan Brown

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I GOT THIS. BOTH. TIMES.

I was inconsolable for a few minutes. Was this karmic payback for being a snob at the call center I used to work at? Back then, I would read Vonnegut during breaks, and when somebody with a Dan Brown book in hand approached me asking "You read books?" I would reply with "Yes, but not Dan Brown."

Thoroughly humbled, I entered Nazareno. It's never been my favorite work, and I always thought of it as foolish, childish, and contrived. Which was why I was surprised with the results.

I write like
William Gibson

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I had to do a Wiki search on William Gibson just to find out who he is! (The "noir prophet" of cyberpunk, it appears.)

But I did feel a little better then. That's an improvement, right? So I put in Sameness.

I write like
Stephen King

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

IMMENSE SIGH OF RELIEF. I haven't really read any Stephen King, but surely his international appeal must mean he's doing something right. Right?

Finally, I put in Vignettes, an unfinished story that I wrote late in 2005 and uploaded to Fictionpress.com just now so I could link you guys to it.

I write like
Vladimir Nabokov

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

FINALLY. I will never discriminate someone based on their reading choices ever again.

Me and the big V

Every once in a while I find myself caught in a discussion about my lack of sexual experience, and last Friday at the office was one such day. Granted, the discussion veered that way because I wouldn't drop another discussion about somebody else's reproductive organs, so I guess I had it coming.

The discussion last Friday was a little different, though, because my officemates seem intent on helping me lose my V card than even some of my closest friends. I don't know if they're serious, but they seem to have arranged something for me later on this week. I hope they're just kidding.

I know I always say that people -- girls especially -- shouldn't care about what other people will think if they find out they're still virgins, and I still stand by that. I don't care what other people think about the fact that I'm in my 20s and still a virgin.

What I am worried about is that I feel like it underscores how hard it is for me to trust other people. I believe that you only do it with someone you love and trust, and since I like to think I'm surrounded by trustworthy people, I must be the one failing to communicate.

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The fact that you can now get gay married in Iceland, along with the uniformly favorable remarks about the country in Gawker's notoriously snarky comment section, make me want to move there.

A little something something

Yes, I am still alive. I am constantly on Twitter, but I just haven't found the energy or the inclination to come up with an actual blog post. It takes too much work and actual brains to come up with something halfway coherent.

A lot of stuff's been going on. For one, I have once again become a victim of the unwashed masses. This is the second time in the space of six months. And I think the fourth or fifth time since I started working. I keep on wondering why I always end up being the target of these things when I look about as presentable as a hobo.

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Moves like a butterly, stings like a bee.

Remember the Star Wars kid? There's a video reminder above if you don't. After that video got posted on the Internet, he "dropped out of high school, was diagnosed with depression, and became an in-patient at a psychiatric ward for kids. His family then sued the families of the classmates who leaked his video for $250,000."

Well, he's studying to be a lawyer now.


Hopefully he'll live this down.

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Let us all mourn the passing of an incredibly sexy firefighter.