The Fields of Elysion: V 4.0 : Simply Magical

Can.You.Read.My.Mind?

May 20, 2008

Ready For Export
POSTED AT 01:53 PM

I am a product.

A robot manufactured in the best factory, fully automated to kiss ass, wipe ass and bullshit my way into greener pastures.
I have the latest software, the most advanced features, all the cogs oiled and whirring, ready to do the job I was made to do.
All I need now is the seal of approval, which I hope to get on the first and second of June.

There is no time to reasses and troubleshoot the mechanisms.
No time for a test run.
No time to unplug and unwind.

Just box me up and send me off anywhere you want, I don't (have a) mind.

Dollars. Snow. Blonde hair and blue eyes and nasal twangs. Apple trees and Lady Liberty.

That's all we really want in the end, isn't it?

(Haven't been this emo in a while. Woo, blog entry, woo.)

cast a spell?

January 28, 2008

Review and Rave of a Fangirl: A Blow By Blow Account of my MCR Rocks Taguig Experience
POSTED AT 02:48 PM

[This is going to be a long one. You have been warned.]

Proof of Fangirlyness

Lately it seems that I only write about things that I am desperately passionate about. This happens to be one of them.

My Chemical Romance, a band originating from New Jersey, is composed of six dorks with instruments. They are outcasts. Comic book geeks and band freaks. Each member has his own history of being bullied, ridiculed, ignored and heartbroken in varying degrees. All that in mind, it is no wonder their first two albums are teeming with angst.

And even as their fame grows they remain just that: weirdoes who have a passion for music and just happened to be really fucking good at it.

I am a fan of My Chemical Romance. Well duh. I will entertain no comments on them being goth, emo, gay, sellouts and whatnot. I simply don’t care, even if they really are all that.

I know all their songs from Bullets, to Revenge to Black Parade and even all the B-sides and covers. I’ve listened to all the interviews I could find, and watched all their television appearances and guestings. I know the history of each band member, what music and movies they like and so many other useless trivia about them. I think I know more about this damned band than I know my subjects in college. I watched them go through the emo-goth phase and was delighted to find that they’ve evolved into rock-opera-punk. Their music grew up and so did they.

And finally, finally, after years of wishing that they come to the Philippines, I saw My Chemical Romance perform live.

Prelude

I didn’t even believe it when I first found out about it and brushed it off as another rumor. Thankfully I got confirmation on the concert on time and managed to get tickets with good seats. Heh. Each of the damn tickets cost a whopping 3,465 pesos. A little too steep for someone who holds onto every penny with a tight fist, but I’ll be damned if I let the chance to see them live slip. I was determined to see them and would not settle for okay seats. (Actually, when we got there, it the Gold and VIP crowd were kind of disappointing. Half of them didn’t even look like they’re enjoying the show.)

What good seats they were too. Well, actually, our seats were somewhere in the middle of the Gold section, which is farther from the stage than I would’ve preferred. We stayed there for the opening act by a Malaysian band whose name and song titles I could hardly understand. (They were really good though, despite the language barrier.) Slapshock’s lead singer even made an appearance to sing with them.

But then when it was time for the main act, my ingenious cousin Czarina suggested that we leave our designated seats and find a better location. She dragged us off and luckily, there was still free space in the front of the section, right near the division of the VIP and Gold sections. Nearby empty seats served as our elevation. There in an open field; I stood on my plastic Mono-Bloc, in heeled boots no less, and jumped and danced with reckless abandon along with everybody else, not caring that I might topple over and break my neck, screaming myself hoarse. My right hand is this close to getting a contracture in the shape of a permanent rock-on gesture. I’ve got tinnitus up until now because of the booming basses, wailing guitar cries and screaming people.

The Main Act

They. Were. AWESOME.

Did I stress that enough? I don’t think I did. If they were good on the records, they are even better live. I’ve seen live performances on Youtube and such of course but nothing compares to the feeling I got when the stagelights died and the intro for This Is How I Disappear began to play. I felt shivers, I was shaking and unable to believe that I can actually see them.

They’re basically the same songs, but the energy, passion and emotion that the songs were made to convey will only be given justice when they are performed on stage, in front of the millions of insane fans. MCR did all that and more.

Ray Toro shredded that guitar so incredibly that I found myself closing my eyes to savor the music whenever he plays a solo. Frank Iero played with his whole heart, soul and body, and you can see it in the manic way he performed. Mikey Way actually moves now. Sure, all he does is that head-shaking-lean-back thing, but for someone who was usually so quiet and mysterious, any sign of movement is good. Bob Bryar, my personal favorite, absolutely transformed from a goofy-looking, bouncer-type dude to a devil on drums. So what if his hair looks stupid in that length and he looks like a ponkan in his orange shirt (everyone else opted to wear, surprise, black.)? He still knew how to handle those drumsticks.

Frontman Gerard Way (yes I think he deserves a separate paragraph), performed with his usual sailor’s mouth, rambunctious antics and laughable yet oddly sexy dance moves. His voice is not quite at par with vocalists such as Brandon Boyd, but he had a style that is all his own and he’s improved so much. Gone was the boy who screamed at random intervals to angry lyrics and in his place was someone who knew he made mistakes and learned from them. He knew how to work a crowd too, that’s for sure. Comments like the “We’re My Chemical fucking Romance!” and “This is the shit we're going to remember when we're fucking old men...which is in about...four years.” were enough to get the audience hyped up. Of course, it also helped that he’s dead gorgeous.

They started off with This Is How I Disappear from their latest album The Black Parade: a good choice for opening number in my opinion. Following that was a mix of songs from all three albums plus a couple of B-side songs and some new songs that are probably going to be in the next album. They even began Cancer with a cover of the Queen classic "Flash". I would’ve liked to hear Thank You for the Venom and Disenchanted live though, but whatever. It was a good combination of old and new.

The Set

Their set of songs includes the following:

From The Black Parade: Dead!, The Sharpest Lives, Welcome to the Black Parade, House of Wolves, I Don’t Love You, Cancer(“I actually can’t fucking hear you.”), Mama (“It’s never gonna heal….unless…you put some penicillin on it…”), Sleep, Teenagers

From Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge: Helena, Give ‘Em Hell Kid, I’m Not Okay, Cemetery Drive, You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison

B-side: Kill All Your Friends ("You guys know what a B-side is? It's a sone we didn't put on the record. Not because it's not totally fucking awesome. Just that we didn't have enough room for it."), Desert Song

(I can’t remember the titles of the new songs and I can’t remember which song from Bullets they sang, though. I think it was Drowning Lessons…or Skylines and Turnstiles. If anyone cares to refresh my memory, please do so.)

And of course, Famous Last Words was just the song to conclude the night of heavy rocking. I have videos of the event, but I wouldn’t bother uploading them, because you probably wouldn’t see anything clearly. A load of times I forgot I was holding the camera and swayed my hands just because Gerard told us to, so the videos are all kind of a blur.

Closing

After the concert we tried to find ways to get autographs and stuff, even tried to catch the band in their hotel. However, a group of stupid kids who got there earlier had actually gone up to the band’s hotel rooms and knocked on the doors, sending the manager and head of security into hissy fits and wanted the rest of the fans to leave. So, no autographs for us. We got to meet some of the crew and the keyboardist though. That’s about as close to them as we could get. Sayang. It would’ve been so freakin’ awesome if we got to meet them. But hey, I can always say I was in the same building as MCR.

And with that, my MCR experience drew to a close. Three thousand four hundred fifty pesos gone, and yet it was worth every peso. I can’t wait for them to return.

(Note to self: find out which hotel their staying at and when the press con is going to happen next time.:D)

cast a spell?

July 15, 2007

The Power of Three
POSTED AT 10:53 AM

It’s not the Charmed tagline.

However, this post is about the Condemned Ones, whose name was inspired by the fantasy TV series.

Like I said in an earlier post, my social life died during my junior year, and I am kind of hell-bent on reviving it. In so doing, I went back to what we may call my roots. My friends. For the past month, we’ve been meeting up at random places, just texting each other at random times to see whoever’s free. No fuss and planning necessary.

It seems that the bahala na system works, because even with Monday to Saturday classes/duties and semi-clashing schedules, we’ve been seeing each other on a regular basis.

It’s not like we go on outrageous night outs or whatever. We just find a comfy place and…chill. We chill for hours and hours until one of us has to go. A typical Condemned tambay is usually no shorter than two hours. The longest is the whopping 5-day retreat in Saich’s house.

The really cool thing about that is…hindi kami nagsasawa. After every tambay, we all leave happier about life in general and we’d be looking forward to the next meeting.

You might think…How in the hell is that possible? I don’t know either. But to help us analyze this phenomenon, I have come up with a list of Condemned Hangout Essentials.

1. A hangout spot – Anywhere without a time limit is fine, because like I said, our tambays last for hours. We don’t want the manager/security to be kicking our butts out. It used to be the high school benches, but that place is now swarming with frosh so we don’t go there as much. Coffee shops top our lists now, especially Starbucks (of course) and this quaint little shop in Dapitan, Hawaiian Café. Gilligan’s in Glorietta is fast climbing the chart too.

2. Stories – As boring as I think our lives are, we never run out of them. They could be about anything, something funny that happened in class, a stupid comment from a stranger in the bus, tennis milestones (ahem, Girlie), a weekend rendezvous (ahem Nicole) or a new band breaking into the music business (Ahem, me).

3. Good food –. Hey. All the talking/laughing we do takes energy. We have to eat. We don’t call ourselves Pretty Piggies for nothing. All three of us dearly love to eat. We (especially me…just call me body-issues girl) can be all “Pucha ang taba ko na talaga” or “Ang laki na naman ng tiyan/braso/hita/insert body part here ko”, but we can never turn down a nice carton of ice cream. Or a whole blueberry cheesecake. Or a pizza. Yeah, yeah, you get my point.

4. Drinks with either caffeine or alcohol – It seems that when we get together, the three of us consume a drink that is either of the caffeinated or alcoholic variety. Caffeine boosts our energy (heh, like we really need it) and alcohol boosts our…shall we say…confidence? It has been proven on more than one occasion that alcohol in its smallest amount can make us do things we don’t normally do. If anything, it makes things all the more interesting.

5. People – For people watching. “Is this guy being stood up?” “Those two are on an eyeball, aren’t they?” “Hookers! The leggy girls with the old men are harlots!”

It’s a fun hobby, you should try it.

Optionals:
- Cute guys to flirt with – ‘nuff said
- Girls who give us the evil eye – they give us a laugh and they enhance our self-esteems.
- A digital camera – all three of us have ‘em, mine being the most primitive. We are all innate camwhores, the proof of which can be seen here.

I don’t seem to have forgotten anything, have I? Cheers.

2 were spellbound

June 24, 2007

Senior Nurse Extraordinaire
POSTED AT 07:24 AM

Oh look, I have a trainee in the ward!

Eh...actually, no, not actually a trainee. It just so happened that a third year RLE group didn't have an instructor, and they were divided into small groups and were distributed to other RLE groups. A group of four then joined us for the morning shift in Sto. Tomas Ward.

Since they were a younger bunch, they were to shadow us, which basically meant that they just have to follow us around and do whatever we tell them to do. (We were warned not to make a slave of 'em though so...bummers. Hee.)

It seems that Mayen, our team leader of the day, trusted my knowledge and skills enough to assign one of the young'ins to me. He was to be my trainee, my assistant, and I was to be his senior, someone who he could learn from.

Jesus Christ, I was nervous beyond belief.

For a senior nursing student, I know enough. I'm confident with that fact. I've handled intensive care patients before. But having someone watch everything I do usually makes me fumble, and its not a pretty picture. I do not like embarassing myself, much less in front of a junior.

But whatever. So the junior had to tag along with me for the entire morning, big deal. I had a grand total of two patients for that day, minus one since one of them is in the operating room and the other is a chemotherapy patient. There were no due medications, no special procedures, just IV lines to be regulated and a post-operative bed to be prepared. How could I possibly embarass myself?

So armed with my clipboard and stethoscope, I marched into the room of my chemo patient to introduce myself, my junior 'trainee' in tow. I did my assessments and checked to see if everything is in order before I gave my routinary health teachings.

A boring lesson for everyone: nausea, vomiting and hair loss are not the only side effects of chemotherapy. They are also prone to bleeding, anemia and infections because all their blood components are low.

So of course I advised my patient to report any untoward signs, yadda yadda yadda, and then came the part of avoiding infection. I told her to avoid consuming fresh fruits and vegetables because they might harbor pathogens (and they are rich in potassium, and chemo patients are also prone to hyperkalemia, but that's another story).

It just so happens that for her breakfast, the dietary department included a fresh orange in her tray, so naturally, they questioned my teachings. I said that fruits and vegetables did not have to be completely eliminated, only that she has to lessen her intake for the reasons I have mentioned earlier. The patient was amenable, she accepted my reasons without a fuss. The relative (her son, I think), however, was not as accepting. He looked at me in a very scrutinizing and somewhat hostile way that made me feel just a little more than uncomfortable. Like hell was I gonna let that pass.

"Bakit po ganyan ang tinging nyo sa 'kin?" (Why are you looking at me like that?) I asked him, my tone betraying none of the irritation I was starting to feel.

"Miss, dietician ka ba?" (Are you a dietician?)

"Nursing student po."

"Kase you're giving opinions on..." he trailed off at that, but I knew what he was implying. That I was giving opinions on things that I knew nothing about.

Fuck you dude. We studied Cancer for an entire grading period, so I do know what I'm talking about. Ask that to the 1.75 I got on my Medical Surgical Nursing subject.

That's what I wanted to say. But of course, I couldn't do that. Therapeutic communication and all. So all I did was smile and say that no, I was not giving opinions, that my health teachings are based on fact, and that if ever I am proven wrong, I apologize in advance.

He gave me one last nasty look before he shut up and turned away. I resumed talking to my patient, and discussed to my trainee whatever it is I knew about cancer and chemo.

When we left the room, I apologized to the junior, not knowing exactly why. I was somewhat ashamed of the fact that my credibility was questioned in front of my own patient and a junior. All he said was "Hindi ma'am, tama naman po yung sinabi niyo eh. At least po, naexplain nyo ng mabuti yung side nyo." ("No ma'am, what you said was right. At least you were able to explain your side well.")

Patients and relatives in paid institutions can be more than just a little demanding and at times rather arrogant. We nurses, since we are usually thought of as just the doctor's assistants therefore not as credible or reliable, have to cope without showing that we are annoyed, or hurt or offended by their lack of trust. So I guess if anything, I taught my junior co-worker grace under pressure, and confidence in oneself. If you can justify yourself, then by all means, do so.

Not a bad lesson, if I do say so myself.

2 were spellbound

June 17, 2007

Back To Basics
POSTED AT 02:28 AM

Meaning...my blog layout.

Yeah, I know, past readers have seen this before. But I'm a little too lazy to look for a new layout and I don't know how to make my own (if I did, you'd be sure to see a Gerard Way themed one) so I'm stickin' back to this old beauty. It's simple, but, in a few words, it's me: Purple, magical and hey, it features Duo Maxwell. Still my only anime love.

If anyone out there would be a saint and make me a layout (asa, Chenyl. Asa), send me a shoutout? Thanks much.:)

2 were spellbound

June 17, 2007

A David Reunion, Yay?
POSTED AT 01:23 AM

Here's the scoop: I am invited to the St. David Reunion. And before anyone gets confused, St. David is my highschool senior class section. Now the problem is that...I am not particularly fond of the people in the said class.

I know, right? Senior year is supposed to be the year, especially in highschool. It's the last hurrah, it's our time to shine and insert other godawful cliches here. But for reasons I have yet to explain, my senior HS year had been anything but awesome.

See in my class there are several groups of people. There's the group I hang out with, mostly made up of the artsy (Agnes), sarcastic (Loren) and kooky (Patricia and Jasmine) people that I found interesting. They're the class's saving grace, I swear to God. I would've suffocated and died if not for them. I've already messaged them regarding the said reunion, but I don't think any of them are interested in going either. It's all, 'I'll go if you go'. We're depending on each other, I guess.

There are those who I just never got to bond with. They're the quiet, demure group in the back of the class. I've nothing against them really. I guess I just never got to know them very well. In the few instances that I actually hung out with them, they were really nice. But that's about it. It'd be good to see them again I guess, but then...what the eff would we talk about?

And I don't think they'll make it to the reunion either. It's a night out in Eastwood City.

There are the boys, who can basically be classified under the Clowns, COmputer game lovers and stereotype popular boys. Some might be a combination of 2 or all 3 categories though.

The clowns are the ones I rather like. They're the life of the class, the ones who wake us up with chuckle-worthy comments during a particularly boring lecture. They get along with everybody, and hey. They get along with lil ol' me.

The computer game lovers (err...geeks) I hardly ever talked to, mainly because I'm fluent only in English and Filipino, not DoTA-speak. When they do speak English, they're pretty likable.

The popular boys are just...that. Popular. Cocky. Rich. Uhmm...they have cars? Yeah. 'Nuff said.

And one of the said fucktard popular boys just had to notice me, lead me on and then break my heart. Of course, after that happened I felt like a total moron (not to mention heartbroken) and hardly ever spent time in the classroom anymore. My breaktimes are then spent in other sections with Nic and Saich.

The popular dudes would prolly be there, since they have the means to actually get there. The clowns...I'm not absolutely sure. I'm willing to bet that the PC people won't be there though.

Then there are people who I am terribly annoyed with, because I think they're airheads. They're a rather big group, almost half the population of the girls in class. As in the stereotypical I-love-boys-and-makeup-and-oh-my-God-I'm-so-popular kind of people. As in no depth whatsoever. I mean, sure, I do love to talk about boys and makeup and fashion. I'm a highschool girl, doi. But from time to time, I think its imperative to find something else to talk about. As my good friend Agnes said, pati goldfish mamamatay sa kababawan. And I think they're proud of their lack of depth because they always talk so loudly. Their noise got our class in a whole lot of trouble. Since they're the ones who came up with this brilliant reunion idea, I'm pretty sure they would be there.

So you see now why I don't want to go to that reunion?

But then, I also have this irritating quality called curiosity. And optimism. Those effing characteristics always make me think twice. Right now, they're suggesting that the reunion might be fun. People might actually show up. They could've changed in the past three years. College did do a lot for me. If anything, it forced maturity on me (even though I don't think it did a very good job. Hee.) Maybe I'd like them better now than I did back in high school.

They always say to follow your instincts. How am I supposed to do that, when the instinct doesn't know either?

cast a spell?

June 16, 2007

Numb to Stress
POSTED AT 11:13 AM

Heh. Today concludes the first week (first three days really, but let's not get technical) of school.

Pardon me while I try to come up with an interesting insight.

Anyhew, we had our General Orientation on the first day. Saich and I all but bet on how long it will take for the professors to say "Fourth year na kayo, you should set a good example" or other such similar nonsense. The profs did not disappoint. Five minutes into the speech, we were treated to a reprimanding using the aforementioned phrases. Yep. We're psychic.

I used to be so overwhelmed with those Orientations. During the past three years in Nursing, I've pretty much deduced that Profs and Clinical Instructors loved to scare the students; they lived for that kind of thing. I think I'm immune to it by now, 'cause nothing that they said scared me anymore. Their speeches and threats and lame jokes did not invoke any emotion resembling fear at all, all I did feel was resignation. Tanggap na lang ng tanggap, wala naman nang magagawa eh. Sanay na.

Even hospital duty orientation with Ma'am Chua did not faze me much. While she was telling us about our "bigger responsibilities", I couldn't help feeling a been there done that vibe.

I guess it's a good thing that I've already handled a stressful patient case before. Sheesh, taking care of that man (may his soul rest in peace...oy, he did not die during my shift ha. and he's really terminal na rin naman. Totally not my fault.) really took its toll on me. He had hepatic encephalopathy (a terminal case...as in no hope of recovery whatsoever) and I was there to witness his decline into comatose and eventual death. He was hooked on a shitload of contraptions, he had like five IV lines that I had to regulate, blood transfusions every now and then, hourly monitoring...the works. And since he's comatose, I had to perform basic human tasks for him. You know, taking a bath, cleaning up after he does a number 2 on his diaper and all that fun stuff, all the while talking to him as if he can hear me. With everything I had to accomplish, I almost never left his hospital room. It had been ridiculously exhausting.

But even with all the stress, I was able to perform a lot of practical nursing skills while taking care of him, which just added to my working experience. That's always a good thing. I came up with certain systems on how I could save my time and energy while working. I took and carried out simple doctor's orders, gave medications, performed skills without needing the CI's supervision. I really felt like a professional nurse then, and it felt really good. Like I really accomplished something. So now I think I'll do just fine in the clinical area, bigger responsibilities and all.

Ganun naman lagi diba. When you've been through hell, everything else will seem like rainbows and butterflies.

Let's see, what else...

Oh yeah, I signed up as a student council staffer...just so I could have a lame excuse for an extracurricular activity. I might also join the Nursing Chorale. The Journal is out of the question; way too serious for me. I want extracurriculars for the fun, not for more stress.

I'm feeling rather positive about this year. Let's see how long that lasts.:)

1 were spellbound

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