You aren't thinking fourth-dimensionally!

Mon, 08 Sep 2008 07:59:25 GMT

What's up guys?

Wed, 16 May 2007 00:26:02 GMT

Remember the 16-year old summa, I blogged about previously? The one who gave this year's commencement speech at UP? You can read (or listen) to her speech here.

Or you can read another one of her speeches under the cut.

Human 2.0

Mikaela Irene D. Fudolig
Speech delivered at "Celebrating Herstory",
under the umbrella of a UP-wide program, "Womancipation"

March 12, 2007

First things first: I’d like to thank the women who have brought me here, and made possible the way my life has been so interesting these past 5 years: Dr. Amy Guevarra, the Vice Chancellor for Academic Affairs, who referred my request to Dr. Letty Ho, who accepted my credentials, recommended me for admission, and closely monitored my progress, then-Chancellor, now President Emerlinda Roman who allowed these things to happen, then-Vice President Serena Diokno, for sponsoring my case at the Board of Regents, and of course, my mother, who taught me to ask the questions: “What if?” and “Why not?”. These women are all extraordinary iconoclasts: they went around the rules so this promising then-little, and still little, girl, could be what she could be. And I hope they’re mighty pleased with the results. To them (and the enlightened men who agreed with them), my profound “Thank you”.

A few weeks ago, I was asked by Dr. Lucero to talk about my story, in connection with Women’s Month. It wasn’t until a few days ago that I learned that this event was actually under the umbrella of a University-wide, month-long activity, with the theme “Womancipation: Ending the Impunity of Violence Against Women.”

What is women’s liberation? A few days ago, on International Women’s Day, a DJ said on air, “Kung kaya rin ng lalaki mag-drive ng jeep, kaya rin yan ng babae.” Is that women’s liberation? Is women’s liberation about women doing the same things as the men? Is women’s liberation about equality?

I must confess that I wasn’t aware of women’s rights activist groups until a few years ago. I didn’t know that there were women here in the Philippines lobbying for women’s liberation. I didn’t even know what women’s liberation was – probably because I was never bound.

All throughout my school life, I had more female classmates than male ones, and more female teachers than male ones. And in school, the girls surpassed the boys in academics. I was told once that one of the reasons why there are separate rankings for boys and girls was that if there were only one ranking, then almost all in the cream class would be women. By hard work, determination and intense study, I was able to excel in my studies and even be among the top students in class, all the way from elementary to college.

But never did I desire to be equal to a man. I did not dream of doing what men can do. It never dawned on me to gauge my achievement with respect to that of my male classmates. And no, I never dreamed of driving a jeepney, although I know that if I have to, I can learn to do it – or make enough money to drive a car or fly a jet instead.

But I do consider myself a liberated woman.

One of my mother’s favorite phrases is, “All men are created equal. Women are created superior.” Why? My mother’s argument is very simple. The Book of Genesis tells us that God created man on the sixth day of creation. God made Adam first, and then Eve next. But when you create something, do you create something worse? In advertisements, do you ever hear: New! As good as before? Or, “New, worsened!” It’s always, “New, improved!” And who was created later? Eve. New, improved.

In industry, or in making research, do you ever submit something that wasn’t the best you did? Do you make a second draft that is worse than the first, and then present it to the public? No! And what did God make after Eve? Nothing.Why? Because with Eve, the Creator has created perfection.

“All men are created equal. Women are created superior.” To me, women’s liberation is not the equality of men and women. Rather, it is about being who we really are, as women, without comparing ourselves to men. And if all we try is to prove that we can do what men can do, and that we should have what men have, that is not liberation.

I have achieved what I have achieved, not in spite of being a woman, but because of being a woman. And I was lucky to be raised by my parents in an environment where I was allowed to be who I want to be, to be who I am, to reach my full potential. To me, that is liberation.

Ladies, you have achieved much, and have broken many barriers. I now ask that you help my generation go to the next level – to believe in who they are, to achieve because of who they are, not in spite of it.

(Before I end, I would like to share with you a song sung by Helen Reddy in 1972. I hope that it will inspire all of us to dedicate our energies to be the best women we can be, instead of the best male counterparts to ever exist.)

Thank you very much.

Tue, 01 May 2007 15:03:18 GMT

HELP! PLEASE!
I'm trying to make phone themes for Fred (my phone), and I was wondering if you could help me out by pointing me in the direction of some really great tutorials you've used to make your icons, banners, headers, wallpapers, etc.

I'm not talking of just coloring, but tutorials (or COMMUNITES, as LJs new search function is terrible) that use brushes, textures and effects?

PLEASE?

Thank you!

♥P

Mon, 30 Apr 2007 02:38:53 GMT

E offers a really beautiful looking mango tart to share among us. K dives in and when E asks me to take a piece, I go, "No, thank you. I don't eat sweets."

E and K (with J looking on goggle-eyed): YOU DON'T EAT SWEETS?!?!?!

Why is that so hard to believe?

I don't eat sweets, liver, lychees (yech), avocados and milk. All gross. But then I do sometimes eat tinola with ketchup, and that grosses out other people, too.

Takes all kinds.

Mon, 02 Apr 2007 08:42:23 GMT

If any of you have an mp3 of The Fratellis' Nina, please, I beg of you, send it my way.

I am desperate.

Thank you ♥

Thank you Yam for the update :)

Fri, 02 Mar 2007 02:29:21 GMT

Anyone up for a trip?

Cebu Pacific offers P1 fare to all domestic & regional destinations

To mark the completion of its $670 million refleeting program, Cebu Pacific (CEB) is celebrating with a P1 one-way fare offering for all its 20 domestic destinations as well as five regional destinations. Passengers have only from March 2 to 8, or until seats last, to buy their tickets. This is good for travel from June 1 to December 15, 2007. The P1 fare is exclusive of taxes and surcharges.

“This is CEB’s way of celebrating its brand new fleet of Airbus aircraft, which at barely 11 months old, is by considerable distance the youngest in the Philippines and is one of the youngest in the world.” said Candice Iyog, CEB VP for Marketing and Product.

Iyog added “This is our biggest sale ever, where we’ve allotted about 10% of our capacity at the P1 fare. We have made available more than 300,000 seats…and for the first time, we have included Hong Kong, Singapore, Bangkok, Kuala Lumpur and Jakarta.”

I will probably be up to my ears in debt after traveling - not because of the airfare (Php4,000 Bangkok, round trip!!!!) - but because I will go shopping for ten million bags.

Kim! Kat! Sino pa???

Mon, 12 Feb 2007 06:32:48 GMT

021407
Not yet too late to proclaim your love to those whom you, er, love.

Step to it!
Chop-chop.

Mon, 22 Jan 2007 02:51:20 GMT

Minsan Lang Kitang Iibigin
Bituing Walang Ningning

There were only two reasons I skipped classes when I was in UP. The Oblation Run (come on, UP Manila went without it for years!) and when the Philippine Madrigal Singers performed. A few members of the group performed during my freshman orientation and I still haven't fully recovered from it - even if it was over a decade ago.

Bituing Walang Ningning was recorded live, I hope you enjoy both songs.

Fri, 22 Dec 2006 09:41:08 GMT

HAPPY
HOLIDAYS!

May everything be joyful, safe and peaceful for you and all you love. And as usual: May you find the love that won't leave you. / May you find it by the end of the day.

See you all on the 27th!!!

♥Pia

Wed, 20 Dec 2006 08:17:57 GMT

Meet HunnyBunny

I can't get over how teeny he is.
That's a 1-peso coin I'm holding.

Money Poohkiaw

Thu, 07 Dec 2006 02:16:30 GMT

WATCH!

And then fall over laughing.
Make sure the room is full and there is a person of authority looking over your shoulder. GREAT TIMES!

Mon, 04 Dec 2006 02:15:37 GMT

420 dead.
We haven't even recovered from Milenyo, and here comes another one to dig ourselves out of.

No gifts this year, kids. Just cards, ok?

Mon, 20 Nov 2006 05:41:31 GMT

So, should we do this this year?
I mean, if you all have nothing better to do?

Love,
Pia

Tue, 31 Jan 2006 05:58:24 GMT

Tell me.

What idiot would put someone with NO EXPERIENCE in web editing in precisely that position? Who the hell would put a marketing person in that position?

I would waste energy by being mad, but it's not worth it. She is not worth it.

Fri, 23 Dec 2005 09:54:04 GMT

MERRY
CHRISTMAS!!!

May you and all you love be blessed with Peace, Love and Happiness this season and always. Be safe, I hope you get most - if not all - the presents you want, and that you are safe, and happy and content.

love,
Pia

Fag

Thu, 21 Jul 2005 07:36:23 GMT

tinywarrior wrote this.
In the middle of this stupid, annoying, anywhere-but-here, any time-but-now day she gave me a reason to smile and cry at the same time. Don't let the lj-cut's name deter you. Just read on...

Fag

This is what I heard someone call my little boy today. I didn’t ignore it. I asked. I glared. What did you say? The kid muttered under his breath. Nothing. We walked to the car and he was quiet. He’s a boy who takes everything into himself. When he shares, it’s a gift. It has a meaning beyond what it is.

I looked at him, my beautiful nine-year-old boy who grew in my belly as I spent endless hours working with men and women dying of AIDS in Los Angeles. The baby that I jostled and jiggled when I was nine months pregnant, shaking my fat little ass at the Dance-a-thon. All the beautiful queens circled around me under the disco ball and rubbed my belly just like the old Russian women at the K-Mart by the Farmer’s Market. I remember looking at them, these glittering beautiful people smiling and wishing me luck. They are celebrating you, I said to my unborn child. They are celebrating life. It was one of the few nights that I didn’t have to face the practical realities of the other side of the coin, the side where I watched my friends wasting away to nothing.

When I had my baby shower, I was living with a friend who everyone thought was my gay lover. I never cared what anyone thought. We were like sisters. She was a nurse who worked with HIV/AIDS patients. I was a lawyer who didn’t like seeing decent people being bullied and treated like shit. We were comrades in arms. People were suffering so much, being locked out of their apartments, being fired from jobs, being dropped from their insurance, being ignored by their own families. So very few people really cared. It still makes me want to howl with the pain of it all when I remember how horrible it was, how tremendously unfair, how incredibly fucking cruel people could be. My shower was attended by four beautiful fat dykes, nine fabulously gay men, a Liberian woman whose asylum case I'd won that year, and a straight couple that I’d kept in touch with after law school. That next week, my mom came and marched at Pride. We laughed about whether I was going to deliver my baby on the parade route. It was a golden day. It shook me more than usual to hear a nondescript man hiss “faggots” as we walked back to the car with a couple of friends.

When he was a little boy, he would tell me he was going to be a girl. I told him he could be whatever he wanted. I didn’t think anything about it. Kids don’t have much of a concept of gender at two. It's like my friend's daughter who told him she was going to grow "big hairy breasts just like Daddy." A few years later, he was playing the game of Life with his brother and declared that he was going to marry a boy. He was six. His four-year-old brother insisted that he couldn’t marry a boy. He has to marry a girl, doesn’t he, Mom? I told them that each of them could marry a boy or a girl. It doesn’t matter as long as you are happy and a good person. He happily zoomed along in his car with two little plastic blue guys in the front seat. That was the same year that he liked to wear my lip gloss. I didn’t care. I’d hand it over any time he asked for it. There were other small but similar things every once in a while, all noted but not given much weight or concern.

So here was my golden boy, born at a time in my life when I was acutely aware of the powers of both love and hatred, chewing his nails in the backseat, trying not to cry. He looked up at me with his giant green eyes. I could tell he was phrasing his question very carefully, as he is such a precise little boy. "I’m not a fag if I don’t want to have a girlfriend, am I?" He was so quiet and serious. I pulled over and turned around to face him.

I wanted to tell him about the time into which he was born, how so many people loved him, how so many people saw him as the sign of a good and hopeful future they might not live to see. I wanted to tell him how the woman who came into my office after he was born wept with him in her arms and kissed him all over. I didn’t take him from her until he was sleeping and her tears had been replaced with a soft smile. “No one has ever let me touch a baby since I was diagnosed,” she told me in Spanish, “He’s so beautiful. Thank you.”

There are so many stories I will have for him, when he is ready to hear them. I looked at him and said, “You are not a fag, period. It doesn’t matter if you like girls, or if you like boys. It doesn’t matter at all. And you are not a fag no matter what. It’s a hateful word that stupid people use to hurt each other.”

That’s all I could say today. I didn't know what else to say. Is my son gay? I don’t know. I don’t care. He’ll figure it out. Either way, when he’s old enough to understand, he’ll hear the stories of the year he was born. He’ll know he’s special, and he’ll understand why the word “fag” will never touch him again.

Indulge me

Tue, 29 Mar 2005 02:01:12 GMT

Number 1:
If US men's soccer team were to go up against the US women's soccer team, who do you think would win?

Number 2:
Give me a pro and con argument/line of reasoning for a relationship with a foreigner.

Number 3:
GIVE ME MUSIC. Please.
I'm desperate. I'll even trade you for it. If I don't have it on my PC, the Macs in the music room probably have it and I'll find a way to get them to you. MP3s please. *falls over and begs*
Right now I'm craving 80's cheese, most preferably Heart.

Number 4:
THROW LINKS TO ICON TUTORIALS MY WAY.
If I'm going to get fired, I may as well get fired as a result of doing something pretty.

Thank you

From Sara B.'s blog:

Fri, 11 Mar 2005 06:28:01 GMT

For the past few days, I’ve been formulating this theory. My theory is that for almost every single person on the planet, there’s this one sentence, and that almost every single person on the planet believes that if this one sentence was said to them by the right person at the right place or at the right time or with the right words, everything the person longed for would come true, and their life would right itself, or start an entirely new and glorious path, and they’d finally be happy.

Of course, I know this one magic sentence won’t really do all of that, but I still think almost every single person on the planet hopes to hear it, and that’s partly the thing that keeps them alive.

So I want to hear some sentences. Feel free to be anonymous.

Thu, 16 Dec 2004 04:42:38 GMT

Yes, I'm alive. If you've been sending hexes my way because you want me maimed or dead or something like that, I just want to say: HAHA. You suck. I'm alive.

Just a few quick notes:

Christmas cards were sent yesterday and today. If you sent me your address, expect one. Today was the deadline the post office gave so that the cards would arrive before Christmas, so expect something. I have wonky penmanship as you will soon find out. I'm also starting to list people I want to give Valentine's Day cards to, so if you want one, comment and post your addresses. I'll screen all comments, don't worry.

</a></a>lacy, thank you for my Hackey mail. I love it :) He's staring at me as I type.

pssst. Doctor gave me the all-clear. Looks like I'll be around for a little while.

See you all after the Holidays.

It is Christmas, after all.

Mon, 22 Nov 2004 12:17:04 GMT

I am lacking originality, but not in goodwill.
I saw this on southerncross_'s LJ and with some clicking found out that it was started by </a></a>tartanshell on her LJ. It's a pretty good idea. Let me know if you want to jump in, because I'm serious.

Step One

Make a post (public, friendslocked, filtered...whatever you're comfortable with) to your LJ. The post should contain your list of 10 holiday wishes. The wishes can be anything at all, from simple and fandom-related ("I'd love a Snape/Hermione icon that's just for me") to medium ("I wish for _____ on DVD") to really big ("All I want for Christmas is a new car/computer/house/TV.") The important thing is, make sure these wishes are things you really, truly want.

If you wish for real life things (not fics or icons), make sure you include some sort of contact info in your post, whether it's your address or just your email address where Santa (or one of his elves) could get in touch with you.

Also, make sure you post some version of these guidelines in your LJ, or link to this post (it'll be public) so that the holiday joy will spread.

Step Two

Surf around your friendslist (or friendsfriends, or just random journals) to see who has posted their list. And now here's the important part:

If you see a wish you can grant, and it's in your heart to do so, make someone's wish come true. Sometimes someone's trash is another's treasure, and if you have a leather jacket you don't want or a gift certificate you won't use--or even know where you could get someone's dream purebred Basset Hound for free--do it.
* You needn't spend money on these wishes unless you want to. The point isn't to put people out, it's to provide everyone a chance to be someone else's holiday elf--to spread the joy. Gifts can be made anonymously or not--it's your call.
** There are no rules with this project, no guarantees, and no strings attached. Just...wish, and it might come true. Give, and you might receive. And you'll have the joy of knowing you made someone's holiday special.

Wishlist 2004

1. ~~A copy (doesn't have to be original - a burned one would be fine) of Les Miserbales' 10th Anniversary Concert at the Royal Albert Hall.~~

</a></a>rice and </a></a>kim
2. Sesame Street Unpaved - I've been hunting for a copy of this book for the longest time and just can't find it in local bookstores.

</a></a>rice
3. ~~A good yoga book.~~

</a></a>rice
4. Something signed by Grant Hackett and is especially for me - I'm predictable.
5. Donate some time to a charity you believe in - time NOT money. All charities need volunteers. Please.
6. ~~A letter or two (or five), I like receiveing letters.~~

I'm waiting for what you all sent me :)
7. ~~Light a candle and spend some time in a house of worship and pray for someone who you know is having a hard time.~~

Thank you </a></a>sapphire_pearl
8. Make someone else's wish/es come true.
9. A paid vacation to anywhere in the world.
10. A really, REALLY amazing bag.

Your wishlists, please?

links and such

Sat, 30 Oct 2004 06:51:03 GMT

I love The Sun. It's a repository of such useful useless information, and I browse for hours on end.

Duncan's having a baby! ooh-wee! And it looks like Lee's going to be a dad as well. Poor kid. Ooooh. Sophie Ellis-Bextor kissing her boyfriend! Next to Amy Austria, Nigella Lawson and Monica Belucci, I'd want to look like her. Lisa Scott-Lee! I like her, too. Kim, o. Ruud looks strange. I don't know much about Arsene Wenger, but I'm having fun with his name. Wenger-Minger-cheater-asshole. All sounds the same to me.

Yesterday there was a bit of news saying that Alex Ferguson wanted to shoot Victoria Beckham. haha. I'd pay to see that.

European tabloids are so trashy. I love them. They make up the most improbable stories, so it's always fun to read.

============

Speaking of stories, Choc on Peyups.com remains a constant favorite. I don't think she's written in a while, though, which is too bad. It's simple, clever writing. The kind you and I aspire to and would be able to accomplish if we had enough time to sift through everyday emotional debris.

In any case, read this when you have the time.

I don’t really understand why thin people make this big fleshy deal about what they put in their mouth. Counting calories, weighing fat grams, measuring serving sizes, why go through such torture over satisfying such a basic need? And, the dripping envy oozing out of their pores when they see some relatively bigger person helping herself to a second serving of chocolate cake? “That’s why she’s so horizontally challenged,” they say with so much bitterness, it overcomes the strength of freshly-brewed coffee. Challenged?!? She’s been blessed with hips, hallelujah. She’s not a walking toothpick, woopdeedoo. How presumptuous is it to consider weight as much of a misfortune to others as it is for yourself?

They say that movies like My Fair Lady, Clueless and Cinderella are all meant to be inspiring, but what are they supposed to inspire exactly? Discontent? Self-denial? Delusion? Are we all supposed to believe that a wave of a glossy black mascara wand can help us find Prince Charming? Are we supposed to think that wearing a pair of Nike Air Jordans and clicking your heels three times is going to help you find your way to the Wonderful Wizard of Love, Happiness and Lots of Women?

Mismo.

=============

I need a manicure. And a pedicure.
A haircut, too, because I refuse to be one of those women who wears her split-ends proudly.

Thing is, this is the longest my hair has been in years. Almost reaching the middle of my back. And I love having hair this long. I would be lopping off about three inches, I think. I don't want to. But I have to.

Having separation anxiety over hair is such a female thing.

Tue, 05 Oct 2004 05:52:44 GMT

Interviewing Jasmine Trias on Thursday.
If there's anything you want me to ask for you, just comment.

Fri, 16 Jul 2004 06:34:13 GMT

Taken from ggoonie:

EVERYONE PLEASE DO THIS!

leave an anonymous comment with:

An insult.
A secret.
A criticism
A compliment
A death threat
A love note
Lyrics to a song.
How old you are.
How long we've been "friends".
& a Hint to who you are. ;)

I will try to guess who you are. Post back so I can see if I guessed right.