LIFE DUMP

LIFE DUMP is a creative space on the Internet, dedicated to documenting Angel Martinez's personal growth through words and photographs. Header image by Niq Alagar

[angeltriestoblog]

HNY!

Overused photo but it’s the most recent one where I don’t look like a total doo doo head.

My favorite time of the year is that mandatory period of introspection nestled between Christmas and New Year’s. I never was a serious believer in the power of astrology but I’d like to think that this is the time when my Cancer sun, Virgo moon tendencies manifest the most. I like to take time to myself, reflect on the year that has been by looking back at journal entries I’ve made, important passages I underlined in books and articles, pictures I’ve taken, and even messages I’ve sent. I think of what I did right, where I went wrong, and think up goals in the hopes of having lived and experienced better by the time the sun makes its next full revolution. Not that I religiously fulfill New Year’s resolutions though, especially in fields that concern health and fitness, but I like the feeling anyway. Planning ahead has always given me the illusion that I have more control over my life than I thought: that I’m not just a mere pawn of the universe but an actual entity with agency.

This is obviously a concept I had trouble grappling with this year, since 2020 has stripped me of all freedom and choice. I admit I’ve been spending the past few weeks falling into the trap that the new year brings promise of a new life: a post-COVID parallel universe where I am free to dream and do and love. Turns out this pandemic brings more repercussions than I initially planned. I talk about seeing friends again, completely discounting the fact that if we ever meet again, I cannot hug them like I want to. How do you just unlearn social distancing after such a long period of being forced to do so or else? I’ve applied to multiple internships in the hopes of gaining enough experience to warrant a job at a reputable company after college. But who’s to say the job market will be any less volatile than it is right now? I dream of cross-country flights to faraway lands and trips to the coffee shop across my university but I’ve practiced being a homebody so well that I actually felt nauseous when I went to the mall with my parents a couple of weeks back.

I guess the problem seems to be the fact that I have fixated once again on checking things off worldly wishlists. So instead of feeling discouraged by the limitations our (please don’t shoot me) new normal brings, I have decided to take on the challenge and come up with more important, intangible goals that I dare say leave a much larger impact.

I know broadcasting my goals on such a public platform (if you can even call this blog anything like that, seeing as it barely had an audience when I was relentlessly promoting it—what more now that I’ve practically closed it off to the rest of the world) poses the risk of jinxing all the things I want to strive towards. But I never believed in that. I always believed that having my thoughts down somewhere I could see them not only presented a certain degree of accountability but also served as a constant reference for me in times of extreme demotivation and loss of direction.

This 2021, I’m going to be doing a lot of growing up—nipping attitude problems that have been around since childhood in the bud, developing life skills crucial for any adult who hopes to make it in the Real World, refining and solidifying my political opinions… the Important Stuff. Some specifics include:

Treat myself with kindness for once: Learn how to accept compliments, set boundaries for both work-related matters and personal relationships, and generally stop assuming that everyone who hasn’t had a proper conversation with me is coming for my throat.

Actually exercise restraint, whether by counting to 10 to prevent blowing up completely, or holding myself back from fighting an enemy that is obviously not worth the energy. For the past two decades of my life, I feel like I’ve been a rather reactive being, responding to external stimuli so brashly. While it has proven my passion in some instances, I have come to regret most of what I do and say during these moments even more.

Improve my focus. My slacking off has reached new heights this year—I’m afraid that, if left unattended to for much longer, I might actually end up morphing into a housefly. I’m currently looking into seriously meditating, creating a space conducive to learning, or at the very least, practicing productive procrastination.

Develop a healthy relationship with eating. Note how I refuse to use the word “diet” like the past few years (something I hope to touch on in an article very soon)—not only has this mindset not worked, but it also promotes a toxic culture that hinges my self-worth on numbers on a scale.

Establish a daily routine. Even the feeling of waking up and going to sleep at a certain time instead of playing a game of Russian Roulette in my dreams would definitely give off the feeling of structure and routine that I so desperately crave. (You know you’re getting old when it is normalcy you seek.)

Form deeper relationships with my mentees across all organizations. This need not require makeshift Zoom therapy sessions: I want to drive results and create impact by helping them reach specific goals. The past year, I served as a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on but like me (and every other human being wired this way), they will seek to do greater things. I must be willing to help in any way I can for them to get there.

Seems like such a tall order, ‘no? It’s like burning a past self alive and expecting a marble sculpture to emerge from the ashes. (Wow, weird almost-3AM analogy right there!) But, mindset is key. After all, changing my life as well as those of the people around me can’t be achieved if I don’t think it’s possible!

[angeltriestoblog]

Angel’s Failure Resume

This week, I’ve been more fed up with social media than ever before. I say this a lot, usually towards the tail-end of the year, then make a half-hearted attempt to lessen my consumption only to relapse after a couple of days due to my inherent lack of self-control and insatiable desire for good memes. But this time, I drew the line. I deactivated my Twitter account, inadvertently ghosted a lot of concerned friends, and spent most of my days either reading, writing, or watching movies. 

In my time away, I’ve been thinking of how I’ve mastered the art of documenting and broadcasting the bright and shiny parts of my life, which have fortunately grown frequent in spite of this ongoing pandemic. It may be hard to believe but I never do this to boast. (Although I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t revel in the praise I received - I’m a writer, it’s what I’m wont to do! It’s what keeps my fingers on the keyboard!) I just know how much I had to go through before experiencing success and fulfillment and I can’t help but be proud of myself. But I get that not everyone might get the drift. In fact, I might be giving off the illusion that I have never experienced setbacks, therefore distorting others’ perception of my life and perpetuating to the toxicity that social media feeds on. And since I have nothing to lose at this point (and know that choosing to bring me down because of my vulnerability says volumes more about you than it does about me), I figured it’s about time I added some perspective to this discussion.

Lo and behold: a list of my failures, arranged from most to least recent, with commentary in select parts for context. I borrowed this idea from a New York Times article I found a while back but was always too scared to try out for myself. I must say: compiling this was a refreshing exercise in more ways than one. I realized that most (if not all) of these rejections are mere scars and scabs, no longer the life-threatening puncture wounds I assumed them to be. Perhaps this proves that everything heals with the passage of time. Also, I just love making lists. Perfect for destressing, reflection, organization, record-keeping. Hopefully, you all come to appreciate the beautiful process of rejection and redirection. Or maybe just walk away with a more comprehensive understanding of what I’ve gone through. Or best of all, come up with a copy of your own.

2020

Got put in a Marketing group with the most incompetent person to walk the planet and had to put in twice, even thrice the work only to get a lackluster grade in the end

Lost an international essay writing contest I joined at the start of the pandemic; only found out the results very recently

Came terribly unprepared to my ACOMM Hosting Pool audition and humiliated myself (this doesn’t begin to express what I did) in front of the panel of judges

Lost my college best friend; had no formal closure with my high school best friend but we haven’t spoken in ages after being forced apart by our differences

Had multiple pitches turned down across several online publications, including the ones I already write for regularly: one magazine only got back to me after three months with literally no apology or explanation, and didn’t even offer to entertain any of the ideas I had already sent in

Rejected by my school publication when I reapplied for reasons not exactly clear nor fair

Had an article I wrote for Reclamation Magazine about a Filipino issue snubbed in favor of a piece authored by a Fil-Am on the same topic

Turned down as an editorial intern for Overachiever Magazine

Rejected as an intern for Klook; to make matters worse, they took my entire portfolio, which included pages upon pages of fresh and inventive ideas that they probably used for their website

Never heard back from Young Star, Scout (I never learn), Fully Booked, Preen, and later on, The Everygirl when I decided to explore international options

Rejected as a digital content intern for Arete

Made project head of a CMH initiative that was snubbed by everyone on the team, despite the fact that it was literally centered on our main advocacy

2019

Stood up against a emotionally manipulative colleague but caused a rift in the organizations we were both a part of

Had several articles I wrote for my school paper revised beyond recognition that I couldn’t even bring myself to call them mine

Was given a poor evaluation by my foster mother during a campus immersion (still don’t know why); could no longer go back to our partner community to visit because I felt like I wasn’t wanted

Never heard back from Scout when I applied to be an editorial intern

Managed to perform rather poorly in Accounting despite being an ABM student in senior high school

Messed up a near-perfect final defense for a subject by making a sweeping generalization regarding the product my group was presenting

Hard-carried a Philosophy group oral exam and received the lowest grade for literally no reason at all (for those curious, I have not forgiven my professor)

Felt very isolated in two organizations I was a part of which I wanted so desperately to belong in

Barely passed both Calculus subjects despite having sought the help of a tutor

2018

Rejected by Under the Stars when I applied to be a host after another humiliating audition

Made excuses to get out of interviews in my home org because I felt like I wasn’t good enough; ironically got rejected from my first-choice department

Realized I wasn’t as remarkable of a student as I thought: literally failed my Theology oral exams because I thought it was ok to read all my answers from a sheet of paper with my back turned to my professor

Was heavily criticized by professors for the way I wrote my essays when writing was (and unfortunately still is) the only skill I was proud of

Felt rejected by people when I entered Ateneo: to be fair, it goes both ways, I didn’t like anyone either

Did not do anything the entire summer before college: could have used the time to take internships or online courses but was far too sad to function

Failed to graduate with honors because of horrible and unfair faculty members

[angeltriestoblog]

I have yet to make my own website for all COMM 27-related tasks. Until then, all my homework goes on here, my personal blog.

My professor asked me to give a visual representation of my life before, during, and after the pandemic. And being the notorious chick flick enthusiast I am, I decided to borrow a key component from one of my favorite films: Cher’s outfit generator from the 1995 classic Clueless. I personally feel like my fashion sense is a representation of my identity: I like mixing and matching clothes to reflect my personality or mood of the day. Before the entire world was on lockdown, I was a typical college student, getting by in terms of academics and doing the bare minimum in extracurriculars. I did the job but I was nothing special. I was lacking something, just like the standard white shirt-blue jeans combo.

When I found myself in a state of self-isolation, I realized just how much I thrive in solitude. I decided to take advantage of this and take on as many responsibilities as humanely possible. On top of schoolwork and friends, I am in a total of seven orgs and have three monthly writing jobs for different publications. While I definitely enjoy doing the work, I’d be lying if I said that all of these things didn’t clash, much like the second outfit. I mean, neon pink leopard print top, Aztec leggings, blue pumps, and a snapback? How did 2010 me ever think this was a decent thing to wear outside of the house?

After all of this is over, I envision myself cutting down on commitments that no longer serve me. I will only take on those that align with everything else I want to do and guide me in the direction I want to take for the future <3 Like my aesthetically pleasing Parisian get-up, perfect for any occasion and most weather conditions, I would like my life to be one of pleasure and purpose.

[angeltriestoblog]

Unnecessary life update

i.

I have officially made it to the halfway point of this quarter. And I don’t mean to sound morbid but I didn’t expect to at all!

It’s just that I’ve recently learned that chronic sleep deprivation actually does lead to premature death and I’ve slept at three in the morning everyday since I started online schooling. (Though actual scientific evidence has always been available on the Internet, I found it easier to believe that this was a hoax.) But concerning as it may be, the past two weeks have been so demanding of my time and energy, resting didn’t seem like an option.

ii.

Much to the dismay of Freshman Angel, most organizations in Ateneo require an interview as part of the application process. I remember signing up for three departments in my home org back then: I sweated my way through one screening, completely flunked the other, and ghosted the last. I also applied to be part of our hosting pool and made a run for it at the last minute: despite having spent only two weeks on campus, I easily found a secret passageway leading to the nearest exit just so that I wouldn’t have to run into the officer in charge of my audition.

Given the unfortunate display of cowardice, it’s hard to believe that this year, I found myself on the other side. I conducted several ICs (rebranded to individual conversations) in an attempt to welcome freshmen, give them a picture of what awaits them in ACTM, and hopefully serve as one of their first friends, if I built enough rapport with them. 

The week after, I had to conduct interviews and screen all hopefuls who wanted to make it into my department. I only spoke with 13 of them through a screen but I had to go through three times more application forms, interview footage, and assessments to determine who would make it to our final line-up. One night, I binge-watched the recordings of all the interviews I conducted in chronological order and I didn’t know if I found my waning energy levels depressing or funny. Toward the last few, I refused to turn on my camera because I had gotten a sudden allergy attack.

iii.

And as if the load I bear as an associate vice president in ACTM wasn’t heavy enough, I joined five other orgs last recruitment week. I wouldn’t go and call the quarantine a blessing because I’m not an asshole but these past few months have made me realize that I want to do and be so many things in life and I missed the opportunity to start on them earlier, since I spent the first few years of college hanging around with no end goal in mind. So in a fit of impulsiveness, I signed up for:

The Development Society of the Ateneo, where I will be working either as an advocacy or consultancy trainee under the research and development department (depends on how my interview this Thursday fares);

Ateneo Education Geared Towards Empowerment, where I will be gathering data from our partner communities to help the organization provide quality education given the online setting;

Ateneo Association of Communication Majors, where I will be under the research and development department yet again of MIRLab, their documentary production house;

Ateneo PEERS, where I will be part of a peer support program intended to help in my self-improvement, and that of others as well;

Project Kabuhayan, where I will be participating in initiatives geared towards empowering micro, small, and medium enterprises

I had general assemblies for most of them: had to ditch two for a midterm, and will be watching the recordings tomorrow. I didn’t even have to talk in any of them; simply watch the officers speak about their projects for the year then head on over to my designated breakout room. But the mere idea of being perceived by hundreds of Zoom call participants was already enough to drain my social battery.

iv.

To top it all off, my major tasks for all three subjects I’m taking this quarter were due last Friday. I had a group podcast for Philosophy class which we had to shoot twice on the busiest day of my week. I wanted nothing more than to get it over with, so when we wrapped up our first attempt, we were ready to let it go through some rushed post-production and submit it without giving it a second look. But I couldn’t stomach the thought of submitting subpar work when the task is supposed to be easy, given enough discipline.

Another group I was a part of had a marketing plan (you’ll never guess which subject it was for) that proposed the rebranding of Adidas Originals to cater to an older target market, or “the active ageing”, as we liked to call it. We only found out a couple of hours before the deadline that our professor was not accepting anything over 10 pages just when we had hit the 40-page mark. All of our well-researched, comprehensive parts had to be cut down significantly, which was the equivalent of flushing many sleepless nights down the drain.

And of course, I had a case study and midterm to accomplish for Law. The minute I received the message confirming the submission of my answers, I plopped down on my bed and napped. Later on that night, I released all the pent-up tension in me by going on my first ever e-numan. I never got the logic behind drinking alcohol in front of my computer: I always thought it was a sad attempt to replicate the bustling nightlife of Katip or the intimate energy of barkada chillnumans in condominiums. But I guess all I needed was the right company, and some sweet-tasting Novellino.

Anyway, before this turns into a full-on advert for a brand that isn’t even sponsoring this post, let me move on.

Reading that probably exhausted you. As the one who had to live through all that, I can tell you: it was even more hectic than you think. Before this pandemic was a thing, my schedule was clear-cut. I could tell the days of the week apart, and appreciate the endless possibility brought by Friday evenings. I could wake up at eight on Saturday morning, smile to myself because of how early it is, and go back to sleep without any feelings of guilt.

Now, the line that separates work and home has been completely obliterated. The Internet promotes that I have to be at the top of my game all the time. Every moment spent in rest and recreation is a moment wasted when there’s so much to do, always somewhere to be even if I’m technically not allowed to leave the comfort of my own home. 

I would sometimes report to my friends that I threw my circadian rhythm out the window, which would be met with the same well-meaning outcries. “What the hell! Drop all your commitments! Pace yourself! Sleep early!”. I think they know by now that this often falls on deaf ears. Ironically, whenever I observe or hear of friends falling into the same patterns as me, I’m often one of the first to reprimand. I sentence them to early bedtime like a stressed suburban mother of two, and check in on them constantly to see if they’re doing alright. I tell them not to pressure themselves to perform at their very best, while working myself to the bone, writing this ~2,000 word essay at half past two in the morning.

But one conversation I had with one of my friends stood out. He told me how proud he was of me: that even if I’m so busy juggling so many things, it all pays off in the end because I’m genuinely happy and fulfilled. I get to see the fruits of my labor and share it with the world.

Which is so true. I honestly enjoy the success that comes from this hyperproductivity, and take pride in the output that I manage to churn out. I’m willing to give up hours of sleep if it means getting to do what will help me make my pipe dreams a reality, or create something that sets my soul on fire.I don’t mind going out of my comfort zone if it’s to talk to new people who have the potential of being some of my greatest friends in the future, or advocating for causes that I’m passionate about. 

In fact, I am so willing to prolong my period of working to welcome the new members of my department or create even more articles to talk about pressing cultural phenomena. It will be hard as hell while the sacrifice is still ongoing but I always know that it will lead to something greater and bigger than I am. 

Besides, when I feel like I can no longer take it, I don’t think I’ll have it in me to force myself. It might not look like it but I am afraid of the serious health risks and will try to slot in more time for sleep if need be. But I have no plans of backing out of anything right now since I’m still on top of everything. Guess I’m fueled by a genuine desire to give/be/do as much as I can, while I still can. 

v.

Where did this post even go, honestly… This was supposed to be a simple life update, complete with a pop culture recommendation to supplement my experiences. I did not expect it to spiral the way it did so now I have no idea how to transition from one part to the next in a way that isn’t entirely awkward. Oh well.

I managed to preserve my sanity these past two weeks by listening to only one artist. Anyone who follows me on Spotify must think that their Friend Activity tab is glitching but the rumors are indeed true: I have been listening to chosen songs from The Boyz’ discography on a constant loop, like an actual zombie. Count on me to get into a new K-Pop group during the busiest week of the quarter as a coping mechanism.

I was an anti of this group when they first debuted because they are home to a former Produce 101 contestant whom I hated. (Still do, up to now. Don’t know how to reconcile my conflicting feelings.) So you could say I was heavily biased from the start and refused to give them a chance. Thankfully, one of my best friends recently converted after watching them on Road to Kingdom and sent me some of their performances to reel me in. Since I am a girl with a working brain and pair of eyes, I was easily impressed. When they came back recently with The Stealer, I officially fell and made no active efforts to get up.

If there are any Deobis reading, (1) congrats, you are a person of taste; (2) please be my friend. My current favorite songs other than their latest title track are No Air, I’m Your Boy, and Break Your Rules. I’ve also started most mornings with their Danger live stage. Who needs caffeine when you have acrobatic stunts and good-looking men?

I also have a lot of exciting things coming up, which I just felt the need to share:

I’m going to be a panelist at a talk for Developh, an organization I’m a part of which leverages technology for social good. This Friday, October 16th, I’ll be joining three brilliant go-getters from different fields to talk about my internship at makesense Philippines (which warrants another blog post) as well as my experience as a freelance writer. 

I have a couple of published pieces in the pipeline right now that I absolutely cannot wait to share! I honestly think they’re some of my favorites. Over the past few weeks, I have written about Internet study communities, the Subtle Asian Dating Facebook group, and unpaid internships. I’ve also pitched a couple more to my bosses and they’ve given me the green light at the same time so yes, once again, I am running on tight deadlines.

I’ll be applying for internships once this quarter is over and I’m already considering a couple of start-ups as good prospects. I’m making my personalized CVs for each company and saving the contact details of the designated point people in a neat little Notion spread for easy access.

Feels weird to end this post with stay safe and healthy, and don’t forget to rest. Maybe I’ll just make that a note to self.

Love and light,

Angel

[angeltriestoblog]

So... the weather?

I promised myself I was going to stop watching Grey’s Anatomy after three episodes After all, I have no ambition of pursuing a career in medicine—I killed off my dreams of being a doctor the moment I realized I was terrified of blood. I simply gave it a try because I was still in an Enchanted-induced hangover and thus very much in love with Patrick Dempsey (who I have trouble admitting is old enough to be my father). It’s just a shameless thirst watch, I said. An addition to my roster of brief quarantine phases where it will sit alongside Big Time Rush and all John Lloyd and Sarah movies.

Well, I’m sad to report that it’s currently 3:30am as I’m typing this and I just finished the second episode of the second season. To be frank, there is nothing completely spectacular about it, so far. In fact, it’s become increasingly predictable. Meredith starts (and ends) the show with a long and winding monologue meant to sound deep and introspective, which frankly enters one ear and goes out the other. George will attempt to confess his feelings for her only to be paralyzed by his debilitating lack of self-confidence once again. Alex will continue being an asshole, and Izzie will deny that she’s starting to see past his rock-hard facade. Cristina’s going to shoot Burke a very obvious, longing stare that should be getting other people in the hospital suspicious of their relationship. A patient will have to make a life-changing decision while gazing outside a window, as an angsty early 2000s hit plays obnoxiously in the background. You know the works.

But I find myself hooked for the strangest of reasons. I’m satisfied by the rapid back and forth of medical jargon that often cut to scenes from the operating room, which I have learned to stomach. It’s like I’m peering into a life that could have been my own if I only had the guts and grit. More importantly, I find it real as hell. Though I can’t vouch for all the drama and relationships weaved into the storyline, the patients they save (and those they don’t) are as close to actual people as they can be. In fact, it’s easy to assume any of us could be in their position. The ones deciding whether or not to pull the plug, donate the organ, continue the operation… it’s disconcerting, yes, even chilling in some parts, especially when the cases hit too close to home. But it’s grounding—it reminds me that I’m still here, I still have a life that I actually want to live, and that I thankfully still have the agency to make something out of it.

—

My music taste is volatile, to say the least. One minute, I’m obsessing over the latest indie rock group I’m presented with on the first day of each week, then I take an unexpected detour and blast my many throwback playlists the next. (I have the standard one with almost 400 songs from the early 90s to mid-2010s, the R&B version, the punk-rock-it’s-not-a-phase-mom version, the not-so-old OPM, the very-old-OPM… the list goes on, really.) Despite this, I’ve managed to find and stick with some gems. They’ve accompanied me through every episode of writer’s block, suppressed sing-along session late at night (because everyone in the house is fast asleep), and rainy day that is begging for rumination on past decisions.

My favorite at the moment is no surprise, considering I spend a decent amount of time on the Internet. SAWAYAMA is the second album of Japanese-British singer-songwriter Rina—you guessed it—Sawayama: an eclectic yet thoughtful mix of tracks that borrow elements from the past and masterfully blend them all to create an experimental, oddly futuristic masterpiece. I fell in love with the record as a whole slowly: I liked one or two tracks on my first listen, and Spotify’s algorithm did the rest. It begged to be given another chance, to be appreciated each time it was recommended to me or played on shuffle. Thankfully, I realized its brilliance sooner or later. Once I started paying attention to the lyrics, I even found out that it was a reflection of her identity and humble beginnings. Who knew that introspection didn’t have to sound so depressing all the time? Anyway, as if it wasn’t obvious enough, this only solidified my belief that this woman is a force to be reckoned with. I’m a new fan. (If your top picks are Tokyo Love Hotel and Comme des Garçons, we should be friends.)

Some honorable mentions include the other two top albums of the year, unsurprisingly by women as well, because we just keep winning: Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers and folklore by Taylor Swift. And the recently expanded version of Take Me Home, One Direction’s second (and dare I say, best) release. You read that right: FOUR stan Angel has decided to retire to give way to her stronger, wiser counterpart: the TMH supremacist. I’ve gone on YouTube several times in the past to play Truly Madly Deeply, Magic, and Irresistible, it’s practically a part of my routine, which is why I can’t really determine why I burst into tears when it was released on all streaming platforms on their 10th anniversary.

—

I package myself as a voracious reader. After all, where does someone who writes this much get all those words? Surprisingly, my Goodreads challenge is to finish a (boring) total of 12 books by the end of the year—one per month, because I’m playing it safe. I’ve met the minimum requirement since the pandemic has started when I know full well I can go above and beyond, and have been known to do so several times in the past. (I got this sudden flashback of my pre-teen self sitting in the same spot for two hours because she had deemed 13 Reasons Why unputdownable… who’s gonna tell her?) And to make matters worse, none of the books I’ve finished have made the desired impact, save for one.

But I’ve already said enough praise in this post, let me be nitpicky for once. I’ve been wanting to read Educated by Tara Westover since I first saw it perched on a shelf in my nearest Fully Booked branch. This was marketed as an inspiring story of a girl who has lived all her life in the mountains with her overly religious parents and her problematic pack of siblings, whose sheer intelligence lands her a spot in some of the most prestigious institutions around the world… how could I not be excited to read all about it? My purchase was postponed several times: didn’t have the money, didn’t have the time, was stuck in the middle of finals week… but I got it (and two other titles) on my 20th birthday and felt like it was a dream come true.

Westover’s prose is beautiful, I can’t stress this enough—so vivid it places you right in her shoes, and packs the biggest punch. But my main issue was her story itself, which is weird because it’s not like it’s fiction: this is her autobiography, as strange and unlikeable it is. I get that her formative years are an integral part of her story, and it’s alright to flesh it out as much as needed. But I guess I was just expecting to see more of her experience as someone struggling to integrate herself into modern society when she was in the presence of such brilliant minds. I found a lot of the parts repetitive, far-fetched and even annoying, because of the people in Tara’s life and their stupidly blind faith. I’m definitely an outlier here though, so don’t take my word for it.

—

Hopefully, by now, it’s obvious that this is my attempt at a life update. I know these are more suited for finstas than personal blogs—after all, does anyone still read this? Who’s here to update?

It’s just I have done of writing for other publications since this pandemic began (which I further talk about in this post). What started as a step out of my comfort zone has slowly and inadvertently turned into a side hustle of sorts, which is surreal to me because I never thought I could receive any form of compensation for doing what I love. It seems reasonable, then, that I would slowly let go of this blog. I admit that I don’t have a solid readership and I’m not getting paid to do anything—it’s probably best I allocate my energies someplace else, someplace with pay.

But I can’t find it in me to let this platform stagnate, not when it’s seen so much of my holistic growth and served as an avenue for me to practice and perfect my craft. I’ve been blogging since I was six (fact of life: first ever site still here, etc etc we know this Angel) so there’s this sinking feeling of guilt whenever I think of jumping ship in favor of other opportunities. Besides, despite the vulnerability I show in some of my personal essays, I still hold back to a certain degree. I change up my writing style to match the desired tone of the magazine. Sometimes, this is up to me—other times, it’s a direct order from my superior. This is not a complaint: it’s simply the way things work. After all, just because I write for them doesn’t mean I get to make them my online diary—which is exactly what this place is for me. I call the shots: I talk about what I want, when I want, in the way I want. I could make a 3,000-word essay about the most trivial thing in the world, ramble about my niche interests, or maybe even go ghost for prolonged periods of time when necessary. When I become famous, it’s the pieces on this site that people will try to pick apart and overanalyze.

In fact, in the spirit of transparency, I’m changing the settings of all the humiliating posts I have in my archive, for you guys to gain unfettered access to the person I was and of course, for me to have a good laugh. LIFE DUMP will always advocate for authenticity. LIFE DUMP will always be a collection of my truths. LIFE DUMP is where I will forever belong. <3

[angeltriestoblog]

I’ve been thinking and writing and thinking about writing

This time last year, I spent my free time cooped up in my university’s study hall. There, I would drink from smuggled cups of vending machine coffee, in the hopes of converting my lethargy into caffeine, and the caffeine into words. My dream publication at the time had opened up internship applications, and though they set no deadline, I pressured myself to finish all the requirements as fast as I could. Every impulse decision I had was always coupled with this need to execute at the soonest possible time, like my brain knew if I took a second longer, my common sense would kick in and pull the brakes. I guess my failure to think everything through reflected in my cover letter template (lazy), resume (unremarkable), sample works (in retrospect, bland and uninspiring), and the absence of an acceptance letter in my inbox.

I have lost respect for said publication since then, though not because I harbored bitterness in my heart: their failure to compensate hardworking interns as well as the steep decline in the quality of their content should be enough reason. (Looks like I dodged a bullet back there.) Though it can’t be denied that at the time, I was heartbroken. The feeling lingered with me longer than I cared to admit. Despite getting featured on a national broadsheet and accepted into my school’s student paper less than a month later, I still couldn’t bring myself to be fully confident in my skill set because of that one specific, indirect rejection.

Which is why, being where I am now and having achieved as much as I have in a span of five short months feels like the highest form of vindication. Quarantine boredom compelled me to submit an article pitch to the then newly-launched Underdog, an online platform dedicated to the digital native’s latest preoccupation. It was a piece about the boybands I loved and lost (read: the dissolution of One Direction, and every other group I adored with the same degree of intensity), one I was actually planning to post on the blog. But in a span of a few weeks, my idea was accepted, refined, revised, and turned into a full-fledged essay that landed me my first ever paycheck.  

I was still on some euphoric high, emboldened beyond belief, when I chose to take it a notch higher and apply as a staff writer for one of my all-time favorite magazines. During the summer before college, I was paralyzed by a legitimate existential crisis that left me aimless and afraid. I turned to the Internet for solace, and in my search for a voice of reason, I found Lithium Magazine, and their collection of articles which viewed life in the authentic, critical, occasionally self-deprecating way only Gen Z teens know how. I was aware being turned down by them would easily mean a one-way ticket to retirement for me; thank God my inner critic was taking a power nap or else it would have talked me out of it for sure. The day after I submitted my accomplished application form and a far more impressive portfolio of sample articles (by my standards, at least), I woke up to an acceptance letter and just knew life was not going to be the same.

The past four months I’ve spent as a contributor for Lithium have been some of my most fulfilling as a writer. I am constantly being pushed to the limits of my imagination and creativity when it comes to the content I produce. I can’t find it in me to half-ass pitches or beat around the bush in paragraphs: I owe it to the effortlessly talented people I work with, and the impressive body of work they have managed to accumulate over the years. My first pieces for the month of July were about the effectivity of online therapy in a Filipino context, and the irony of being a low-maintenance friend during a time when the need for human connection is higher than ever. This was followed by my personal essay in defense of basic girls: my favorite one so far, and probably my boss’ too, considering that it’s an Editor’s Pick for the month of August. Though I am infinitely proud of them, as they are my first forays into the international publishing world, I know I can (and thus am determined to) do better.

Since then, I’ve churned out articles on an almost-daily basis for an array of online and print zines. I scout for inspiration in the morning and once struck by lightning, I type away until roosters start to crow once again. Most days, I only took a time out for the daily two-hour movie. It seemed like I was working a part-time job instead of nurturing a hobby. But it never felt like a chore to me. I simply love what I do and I feel like the fact that it shows is the reason why sites are kind enough to publish my work. 

You can view my portfolio if you want to see everything I’ve put out so far but here are five of my most recommended, in case you’re too lazy for that!

The story of my coming-of-age based on the usernames I had on social media platforms, for Uniquely Aligned;

An expose on all-girls Catholic high schools in the Philippines and their inaction towards sexual harassment cases, for Ashamed Magazine;

A part-review of Patron Saints of Nothing by Randy Ribay, part-rant on the evident lack in Western media that accurately portrays Filipino life, for Reclamation Magazine;

A piece on why talking about mental health should never be a one-way street, for Gen Rise Media;

A love letter to one of my favorite movies of all time, and its flawed eponymous protagonist, for Mid-Heaven Magazine

On a rather tangential note, I also started expanding my network on LinkedIn, though I wasn’t exactly sure what I was hoping to get out of this exercise. I simply enjoyed the process of generating new variations of the same job descriptions. One day, I was sent an email by Riya, the Executive Director of The Young Writers Initiative, a nonprofit that provides resources for aspiring authors to improve their craft and advance their career. They wanted to recruit me to be a mentor for freelancing for their upcoming summer internship program. I had just woken up then and had to rub the sleep from my eyes to read it properly. Apparently, I was recommended by a connection (hi, Srilekha!) who took my sample works as an obvious display of my credibility in the field. Given that this sounded like an exciting opportunity, I immediately agreed. Everything happened at a pretty fast pace after that, as I got swept up in the process of selecting a mentee and figuring out what I could possibly teach them. I guess I didn’t find the time to process what exactly was going on, and what it meant for me as a writer.

It didn’t take long for the impostor syndrome to hit. And quite hard, if I may add. I was due for an interview with Madison, one of my fellow TYWI mentors and I had scanned the questions she sent me. Though I clearly knew what advice I would give to aspiring freelance writers, or had a routine in mind that allowed me to balance all my existing priorities, my hands felt like they were loaded with cement. I could barely type on the document before me. I must have had a staring contest with my taunting cursor for an hour.

I mean, maybe I couldn’t say anything because I didn’t have the right to say them. After all, whatever I knew, I borrowed from someone else - perhaps an actual authority in the field. Wasn’t I just some girl who got lucky during the quarantine? While the current state of the world forced everyone into stagnancy, I coped best with the help of the written word. Had everyone else been under the same circumstances, I wouldn’t be in my current situation. Needless to say, when the actual feature came out, I spiraled. 

I wish I could claim that I only had to do x and y for the storm cloud above my head to go away. But as controversial as it sounds, I maintain that no writer fully gets rid of impostor syndrome. In fact, let me widen the scope of my statement: no creative can do it. I have never known anybody with both an inclination toward the arts and a strong sense of confidence. It’s like our limitless imagination only raises the already impossibly high standards we hold ourselves against. We never really think highly of ourselves to begin with, so when we meet a goal, achieve something we’ve only ever dreamt of, we bring ourselves down. We invalidate our hard work and dismiss it as an act of charity by the karmic forces of the universe.

Thankfully, I have an amazing support system: my immediate family members and closest friends, always ready to offer reassurance when it’s scarce (hold on, I got these intense Economics war flashbacks GOD). I seriously don’t know where I’d be without them. Actually, I do know. Probably wallowing in pools of self-deprecation. I think I would’ve ended up chickening out of new opportunities on the sole basis of my self-imposed inexperience. My loved ones were the quickest to remind me that I was only a beginner in freelancing but I had been writing since I learned how to grip a pen in my hand. I have prepared for this all my life and I was finally reaping the fruits of my labor. Who was I to shy away from the blessings that were so generously being lavished upon me?

In fact, just a few hours ago, I bagged two very exciting contributor roles for organizations that I admire very deeply. I have several pitches in the pipeline as of now, which I absolutely cannot wait to bring to life and share with you guys. As far-fetched as this sounds, this is only the beginning for me. I am so grateful to everyone who has believed in me, read my work (or even a mere paragraph of it because I know how underappreciated the written word can be these days), and left encouraging comments. 

WIshing you nothing but love and light always, always, always,

Angel

[angeltriestoblog]

I was supposed to stop writing about this pandemic

When it comes to self-improvement, I have tried just about every trick in the book. But I’ve never figured out how meditation works, what more how to get right. I always make sure to get up at the exact time the house is just the right kind of quiet and the sunlight filtering through my bedroom window is not too harsh. My 19-year-old self props up pillows to support my 90-year-old back, and spritzes some perfume to add to the ambience. I switch off the WiFi, ignore my notifications, and choose to focus on the soothing voice that makes my phone buzz to life. Give yourself credit for getting started with us, she tells me. Like I had to do much more than search “best meditation app 2020” “meditation app that oprah loves list” “meditation app with best basic plan” on Google and make the necessary downloads.

Within seconds, I am met with consecutive orders. Keep your feet planted firmly on the ground. Just keep breathing. Straighten your posture. I have no problem completing these, although my legs are begging to be crossed and my back aching to be slouched. But when she tells me to “clear my mind and keep my eyes closed”, this is where things start to get tricky.

When I close my eyes, I see a 24/7 marathon of probably every single thing I’ve done or thought in my lifetime, in crisp high-quality definition. When I reopen them and am asked to ground myself by pointing out three things I can see, I spot the brown paper bag sitting snugly in the corner of my room, the broken guitar split in two after an endless period of cessation, the perfume box bearing the faces of boyband members I used to love. My mind makes an endless number of seamless connections until I manage to associate these seemingly insignificant things to a distant, repressed souvenir from my childhood or a conjured image of what I would like tomorrow to be. Needless to say, I end up oceans away from the bedroom I’m supposed to be in.

I can’t remember a single time where my brain wasn’t buzzing with activity. I am not used to the silence nor am I comfortable in stagnation: I must always be working or thinking of or doing something, literally anything but the rise and fall in my chest. As a writer, this is rarely an inconvenience because I am able to generate ideas at the drop of a hat: these past three months, I’ve produced so many think pieces because, for the lack of a better reason, I literally could not stop thinking. 

But as a person living in a world governed by the coronavirus, I would like to be capable of focusing on one thing at a time, thanks! Now that the virus basically calls the shots on how our world as we know it functions, I feel like it’s more important than ever to be aware of “the now”: which aspects of it are subject to change and which ones we’ll have to begrudgingly accept, and to regulate my emotions and expectations accordingly. But my brain refuses to give me a rest. I am constantly teetering between recollections of the past: a time pre-COVID when I could hug my friends and not worry about the mask that is hurting my earlobes, and visions of the future where all is good and I am free to plan out the rest of my life: academic achievements, org involvement, romantic prospects and all.

I am hanging on to meditation as a last resort: a desperate attempt to clear my mind of the unnecessary so I can put the current situation at the center again. Hopefully so I can regain a little bit of sanity and figure out how I can best contribute to those around me. At this point, the app is reminding me that if my mind starts to wander, it’s completely normal and okay as long as I’m able to redirect its attention to the way I inhale and exhale. Normally, I’d indulge myself but today I’ll choose to guide it back. Congratulations, you’ve completed your session.

Last June 30th, I participated in Novella’s first ever virtual salon, where writers from all over the United States (and me!) came together and created on-the-spot pieces revolving around the theme PRESENT. I chose to talk about my struggle with practicing meditation: I wanted to make it my first attempt at CNF but I think I circled back to the personal essay because it’s what I’m most accustomed to. 

For as long as I could remember, I have practiced my creative process in solitude: within the confines of my safe space, only my blank document and a Spotify playlist serving as company. Although I do have a long way to go before I’m fully comfortable with reciting my work before a crowd (whether via Zoom or IRL), I did love witnessing the brilliance people could conjure in a half-hour. There’s just so much to learn from the community! I can’t wait for the latest post of The Stacks to be released so we can all revel in their greatness.

[angeltriestoblog]

I went from reluctant leader to ACTM officer!

Kind of a late update but after what seemed like an endless discernment period and an unforgivably rigorous application process (on my part), I’m officially the Ateneo Association for Communications Technology Management’s Associate Vice President for Documentations! And yes, I’m aware that’s a mouthful so from this point on, I am referring to myself as ACTM’s AVP for Docs.

I honestly did not see this coming though: Freshman Angel stuck out like a sore thumb in her home org. In addition to finding all upperclassmen intimidating as I do with anyone born at least a day before me, I felt like I was just… not feeling it most of the time. All I lacked was a button that read “I really wish I weren’t here right now!” pinned to my shirt. It was only when I was a sophomore, familiar with the organization’s events and able to see them up close that I realized that I didn’t remember going through most of them myself. Although I’m pretty sure I was present because it was mandatory for all new members, I don’t recall going to a general assembly, being briefed on the different departments within the org, and especially being taught what our core competency was. I was very content with doing the bare minimum as a Docs Head: going to meetings to take minutes and do registration, nagging at the project heads and point people to submit the necessary requirements for post-documentations, and smiling shyly and saying “I’m ok!” when people asked me how I was.

Although I was much more active in my second year, I never realized I wanted to increase my level of involvement until I went to LEAP, the three-day leadership training seminar in Zambales I raved about in my first semester recap blog post. It was there when I noticed the home aspect that ACTM prides itself on: everybody—regardless of batch and predetermined social circle—bonding in more ways than one, both with and without the influence of alcohol, just having a great time and joking around like they’ve been friends forever. I saw just how much ACTM was investing in me to help me realize that maybe I could be an officer too. Maybe I could contribute to the great culture that makes us so much of a family. But of course, that thought quickly found its way to the backburner the minute we boarded the bus back to Manila.

I never really saw myself as leader material after several failed stints in my old school: I was the secretary who forgot to ask the teacher to sign the attendance sheet, or the vice president that ran out of the classroom first during earthquake drills when I was supposed to be last in line to check if all appliances were off. (In my defense, it was an act of self-preservation.) I didn’t realize it then while I was busy wreaking havoc in every homeroom class I found myself in but when I finally grew up, for the lack of a better term, I came to the conclusion that being put in charge of a group of people would only bring disastrous consequences and I didn’t want anyone involved in that.

Fast forward to several months later: I had an individual consultation with my boss Chelsea, the previous holder of my current position, to help with her plans in running for vice president of our department. Somewhere along the way, she tapped me to fill her shoes—a request that was met with a high-pitched “WEH?” that probably shocked everyone on the third floor of MVP that day. I had been diligently doing my work for two years, she said, just as long as she has so I knew enough about the processes. Back then, I was very preoccupied with two other extracurricular commitments and had plans of joining three more the next school year. My goals and ambitions were all over the place and I guess it reflected in the way I skirted around the topic because she just patted my knee (throwback to the time when physical contact was still acceptable) and told me to think about it. Real hard.

I guess this lockdown period also served as the time for discernment I needed: I weighed the pros and cons, made the necessary trade-offs, and got the insights of those I trusted, mostly by pestering them with uppercase keyboard smashes. I’d think I had a final decision one day then wake up the next, completely changing my stance. It’s not like I didn’t want to serve—I guess I just wasn’t giving myself permission to believe I could. I can’t really pinpoint when it happened but one day, my brain went: “What the heck. What could possibly go wrong?”

—

After making the decision to run, I felt at peace, no longer overthinking about every single thinking that could possibly go wrong, just eager for the day application season would formally start. Well, that is until I received the actual notification from the Ateneo ACTM page that said a Facebook group for all AVP aspirants had been made. I tossed my laptop aside and started yelling, much to the dismay of my mother who was on the receiving end of all this panic. Over the next few days, I would watch the electoral talk that followed, a webinar of sorts that basically gave a rundown of the process we would have to go through should we want to take on the challenge. 

One of my requirements was a long-ass form complete with questions about myself, my leadership skills, the department, and the organization. I remember looking through the platforms of the Executive Board applicants during the first wave of elections and saying to myself, “Wow, I hope I don’t have to fill up something that long. I would cry my ass off!” only to find out that I would have to submit almost an exact replica of that and truly enough, cry my ass off. While Noelle, our EVP, was glossing over everything, I took these pictures on my laptop’s photo booth to express my frustration and sent them to my friend Julia, who was also watching via Zoom. I was actually very paranoid that I had my video on during the call and would end up exposing my contorted facial expressions to all 70 people watching the livestream. Thankfully, the universe was merciful enough to be on my side at the time.

Believe me, I wanted to get started with the work the minute the virtual meeting ended: I felt like I needed to so everything wouldn’t pile up and paralyze me on the day of the deadline. But even early on, I was already pretty overwhelmed and I couldn’t bring myself to do anything. So I lay down on my bed for the rest of the night and played Ribs by Lorde on repeat. It was an effective coping mechanism then but I instantly regret it the next day once I realized just how much time I had wasted doing nothing when there was so much to be accomplished.

I answered the introspective questions pretty quickly: thanks to my sense of self-awareness, I was able to identify my strengths and weaknesses well. What I really struggled with was the platform. I couldn’t generate any original ideas that I felt could solve the problems I spotted—I had wondered if I could just copy paste Chelsea’s platform and add comments such as “Same” or “RT” on the side and call it a day. Thankfully, this is what individual consultations were for. I contacted Elise, a co-Docs Head from the previous school year, and Gella, my boss back in freshman year and both were kind enough to bounce ideas off me and give me reassurance that the working drafts I had in my mind were actually worth executing. With their insight (and a lot of ice cream), I was able to finish my application form days before I expected to.

I also wrapped up shooting my platform presentation ahead of schedule. I couldn’t find any decent background at home besides this one cabinet but I failed to notice that part of its door was actually faded until I was already done filming. In an attempt to hide it in a way that still appeared on-brand, I slapped some star and cloud stickers on the video and claimed that it matched my own name. The only obstacle I had to overcome was practicing for my panels.

The fact that my question and answer session with the Executive Board was to held be online instead of in-person given our circumstances was supposed to comfort me somehow. But either way, not knowing which answers were going to be expected of me gave me a great deal of anxiety. To stave off this irrational fear, I prepared a Quizlet with 27 potential questions or points for clarification on one side, and my response on the other, which I rehearsed with just the right amount of uh’s and um’s interspersed to make it look as spontaneous as possible. Maybe my greatest sacrifice though was boycotting any TV shows or movies until I was done presenting because even the most mindless programming could take away precious brain cells needed to retain more important information.

On the day of my actual interview, I was feeling pretty confident. I had gone the extra mile by preparing an hour early and recording videos of myself answering my imaginary questions on my laptop camera. This way, I felt like I was simulating the actual experience. But not even this form of planning could have prepared me for the real deal. I wish I could tell you more about how it went but I was so nervous that I blacked out. I vaguely remember puckering my lips and flashing a peace sign every time I didn’t know the answer to something and had to respond with, “I will look into that if I ever get the position.” I also remember that not a single one out of the 27 questions I had committed to memory was asked.

As expected, I was the most relieved when it was over, I didn’t even feel embarrassed until much later on. I got out of my smart casual attire, slipped into some pajamas, watched a movie, and finished the tub of Coffee Crumble waiting in the freezer as a reward. Two days later, I had received a message from Chelsea asking if she could call me. My friend Iverson had said that results are announced to all applicants via phone call before being released to the public at night. It’s not a clear indicator that I was the one they chose, which was horrifying because who wants to be rejected over the phone? My younger self hated Joe Jonas and what he did to Taylor Swift for precisely this reason!

Thankfully, I was only met with good news. Chelsea had told me that I had been chosen by the Executive Board and I was ACTM’s new AVP for Docs. I hadn’t eaten breakfast at the time despite the fact that it was 10 minutes to noon at the time so it took a while for my nutrient-deprived brain to generate the appropriate reaction. The joy kicked in eventually: I jumped up and down and yelled I’M SO HAPPY so many times once the call ended that the words have started to lose meaning.

Since then, I’ve spent my time familiarizing myself with my roles and responsibilities while getting to know everyone else on the team. I’ve had a video call via Google Meets with the people in my department where we leveled off, got to know one another better, and set our goals for the year as we watched Chelsea eat pasta. Very wholesome! EC Wars was also pretty fun: all eight departments of the organization were head-to-head in different challenges. It kinda reminded me of high school intramurals but with less broken friendships. We had to auction one another a la Unsubtle Syota Searching, make a Tiktok introducing our department, its relevance and the roles of each member (which officially launched my career as the org’s official Kris Aquino impersonator), and had a chaotic game of Bring Me through Facebook Messenger. Yes, it’s possible but not if you’re a PLDT subscriber! I also got put in a group with other members of the EC for an activity where we had to make an IMC campaign for a chosen advocacy. As the Mind Readers (named as such because of the multiple instances we sent the exact same message at the same time), we were assigned to tackle sustainable fashion and I have to say that our finished product was, as Dani Rosales herself would call it, “hot”.

This week, we’re on to the more serious stuff: revising internal procedures, refining platform points, etc etc. The fear caused by my self-doubt is further compounded by our current situation, which is keeping us from performing our tasks the way we envisioned we would. But I am a hundred percent confident that since I’m with the right people and we’re all doing the very best we can, it’s going to be one crazy fulfilling year ahead for all of us. I’m endlessly grateful to ACTM for taking a chance on me! Shoutout, of course, to: (1) Chelsea for serving as the final push I needed to decide that serving this organization is what I wanted to do; (2) all my friends who told me I had nothing to worry about while I was being neurotic and who were the first to congratulate me and say that they told me so; and (3) my parents who listened to my rants even if they were 90% org-related jargon.

Wishing you all love and light,

Angel

[angeltriestoblog]

The state of the world has once again taken a turn for the worse, and like all other similar instances, I turn to the comfort of the written word. With that being said, I wanted to put it out there that I have no intention of speaking over the narratives of those who need to be heard the most during this time. (I guess it pays that I don’t really have much of an audience here.) It’s just that I’ve always said that writing helps me compartmentalize my feelings and figure out my next course of action, and I guess this time is no different. I need to get my thoughts down somewhere I can see them instead of having them flit around aimlessly in the deep recesses of my brain.

—

These past few days, I have been made more and more aware of my smallness. Following the (first degree) murder of George Floyd, I’ve had access to all the information surrounding his death: who did it, how they did it and why, the implications of the act, and the several ways black people of color and their allies are standing in solidarity to counteract this brutal display of injustice. I’ve come across several petitions that hope to hold certain individuals accountable or raise issues to the national level, funding sites that aim to provide financial assistance to those most in need, and resources with the intent to educate that demand to be circulated on a wide scale. While these have technically showed me how I’m not entirely powerless, that I do in fact have the ability to enact some sort of change, it’s still difficult to stomach that the change I am capable of making is not as substantial as I want it to be.

I understand that what I’m feeling is a hassle, at worst—nothing compared to those on the streets, to the black people of color who have to fight for rights that are supposedly inherent to all human beings, who demand justice for all those who have fallen because of police brutality only to have these cries fall on deaf ears. I do not have to face various forms of oppression and microaggressions not just when this topic is trending, but throughout the course of my entire life. I do not carry this lingering fear that every step I take outside of my front door could be my last. What happens to their community is absolutely sickening but the thing is, we haven’t even seen all of it. Keeping tabs on social media, checking up with actual victims of structural racism often deludes us into thinking we know exactly what’s going on and how hard it must be, but access to all of this information doesn’t erase the fact that I am watching everything from afar.

So instead of sulking so much that my reaction could be misconstrued as an attempt to make the conversation about me, I tried to channel all this frustration in a more productive manner. I’ve reduced my Twitter time because my timeline has magically morphed into a raging cesspool spewing hatred and anger and is thus getting in the way of my journey towards being an effective ally and concerned citizen. I’m definitely not saying this because the people I follow only ever tweet about the resurfacing of the #BlackLivesMatter movement—hopefully, at this point of the post, I’ve already made it clear that I am far from apolitical. It’s just that my following can easily be classified into two groups: those who wear their ignorance on their sleeve and actively resist any form of education, and those who are so ruthlessly divisive that they scare away anyone who wishes to be educated. The world is already unforgiving enough as it is and I refuse to take part in that kind of culture. I have been trying to ease my way back in though by looking at tweets almost exclusively in the likes of some of my most politically aware friends (hi Pat, Ryen, and Alyanna—I hope you never have to see this) and checking the trends sporadically for any live updates.

Not only have I realized just how many hours in a day going on that stupid bird app actually eats up, but I’ve also had a lot of time to educate myself and reflect on my previous actions. I figured that if I’m so upset about how my impact on a global scale is terribly lacking, I can always start on a more personal level, which is probably just as revolutionary. I’ve watched movies, gone through articles, and even started on this book called White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo, which debunks why exactly it’s so hard to talk about racism with white people. In this process, I’ve learned that everything I knew about the concept was surprisingly shallow and surface-level. Having first claimed my badge of wokeness when I was 15 (and engaged in some pretty performative activism at the time, if I do say so myself), I was shocked to find out that everything I collected from viral hot takes and recommended YouTube videos that claim to be an extensive guide to fundamental social movements possessed an unforgivable degree of inaccuracy.

For instance, all this time, I was under the impression that I could only be a racist if I called someone ugly because of their dark skin or curly hair, or said the n-word whenever I sang along to Caroline by Amine. As long as I didn’t do those things, or any other form of discrimination towards a marginalized group, I was in the clear and had nothing to worry about—I could get a star on the Good Noodle board. In reality, to quote Scott Woods, racism is “a complex system of social and political levers and pulleys set up generations ago to continue working on the behalf of whites at other people’s expense, whether whites know/like it or not”. It is not something we actively choose to participate in, but something that we are born into—literally who would have thought!

Because racism has been demonized by everyone with working mental faculties (as it should be), it’s hard to own up to the fact that at some point, we have subconsciously picked up racist behaviors or exhibited racist tendencies at some point in our lives. Every time someone tries to point out where we went wrong in the hopes of giving constructive criticism, we have our defenses up, a list of receipts of all the times we tweeted the #BLM hashtag prepared to show that we are, in fact, not the villain that we were made out to be. This is a counterproductive exercise that helps nobody. If we truly want to step up and show our support for the movement and those working to make it happen, we must first be open to the possibility that we have done wrong and we have so much more to learn.

As a kid, my beauty standards were very Eurocentric, like most Filipinos: according to a study conducted by me based on years of personal observations and experience, we are the country most obsessed with whitening soap and hair rebonding treatments. I called my friends the n-word as a term of endearment and previously used AAVE (African American Vernacular English) in my tweets to give them a little bit of personality. I chose not to watch chick flicks that revolved around interracial couples because I felt that the difference in their skin color got in the way of their chemistry. One time, when my mom and I were walking to WalMart during a vacation to the States, we came across a stocky black man and my initial reaction was to hold my purse closer to my body. I remain deeply ashamed of these beliefs I held, which were admittedly born out of ignorance, and I acknowledge my responsibility to continue to eradicate any traces of these I may still have.

I am also doing my best to extend the same compassion I have for black people of color during these trying times towards my own countrymen. We’ve struggled enough during this pandemic thanks to the sorry state of our healthcare system, and now the government seems hell-bent on speeding up the passage of the anti-terrorism bill. This threatens to impede our freedom of speech and help government officials get away with incompetence and even abuse of authority. If anyone gets a hold of this blog post and chooses to interpret this paragraph as an open threat to the President, this could be the last time you could ever hear from me, and this frightens me beyond words.

I know this isn’t a new contribution to the discussion but here are some links to helpful masterposts containing a variety of resources should you wish to donate, learn, or sign. This goes for both issues in our motherland and what is supposedly the land of the free. Let’s stay vigilant, let’s stay compassionate. Wishing you all the love and light the world still has left to offer.

[angeltriestoblog]

I Miss 5 Seconds of Summer???

A few days after 5 Seconds of Summer held their concert in the Philippines last 2016, I wrote a blog post with this exact same title then went on to elaborate that I missed the version of them that I fell in love with. I’ve unarchived it so anyone who bothers to read this has a salient starting point, but be warned: I seriously can’t make it through the entire thing without suffering from a chronic cringe attack—who ever told 16-year-old me that she could write?!

—

I have listened to 5SOS’ entire discography almost exclusively today. But my Spotify followers wouldn’t know. In an expert attempt to evade their judgment, I go on Private Mode so I can cry to their music in peace. I’ve also been watching a couple of their videos too. My favorite is this live performance of Ghost of You where Calum Hood does some immaculate vocal blending at the 1:26 mark. I have my watch history paused though so I don’t get bombarded with more recommendations and end up spiraling further down the hole.

It’s funny how I think that removing every trace of related activity on my corner of the Internet could also erase it from my own memory, render it as a mere figment of my imagination instead of a clear manifestation that I’m starting to like them again. And it might seem even funnier that I am convinced that people care! But then again, I did unstan them pretty publicly a few years back following a misogynistic interview they did for an issue of Rolling Stone, which also featured all four of them almost fully nude on the cover.

To this day, I continue to dissect the piece with one part of me thinking that I might have overreacted, having seen and read it for the first time when I was 14 and much more of a prude, and the other knowing that I did not. In one paragraph, Luke Hemmings admits that during the early years of the band, they took advantage of the amount of female attention they were at the center of. “They were wildest on their early tours, when they’d go to bars to mingle with fans after shows,” it read.

In another, Hood talks quite nonchalantly about his infamous dick pic that made its rounds on the Internet the year before, and how it surprisingly gave the band a lot of publicity. “Now I’m just working on the sex tape,” he jokes. “I’ll call Pamela up, like, ‘Hey, it’s been a while. We really need to hype this band up!’”

Having risen to fame as the opening act of the clean-cut British-Irish group One Direction, 5SOS was immediately touted as a boyband—next in line to 1D’s throne, or competing with them for the crown, depends on which magazine you read. Though this exposure granted them a huge teenage fanbase (myself included), they hated the label that came with it. They constantly asserted that they played their own instruments and wrote their own songs, and behaved in a way that well-curated, expertly marketed groups would not: carefree, loud, playfully and forgivably naughty. No one would believe them though. People would say it’s the curse of being conventionally attractive in the music industry. You were almost always expected to be a popstar, a commodity that catered to the masses. But they tried anyway: maybe a lip ring and a couple of tattoos would do the trick, sprinkle some curse words here and there in interviews, get caught smoking or drinking.

That interview was their final act: their big-time effort to break away and hopefully land a spot amongst the rock bands they looked up to and wanted so desperately to impress. Even if it meant objectifying, mocking, and taking advantage of the girls who propelled them to stardom in the first place. Simply put, that interview was them desperately trying to get rid of fans like me. And so, I obliged.

—

Now that I’ve been staying at home for almost three months straight, I have revisited a lot of old favorites: poorly written fan fiction I used to eat up in my early teenage years, full seasons of Nickelodeon TV shows (only the good ones) downloaded off sketchy places on the Internet, my childhood journals filled with my loopy handwriting and family of stick figures. I know I’m not alone in this pursuit: it seems like we’re all holding on to remnants of our past to remind us that we have experienced better days, and they will surely come again soon.

I felt like it was inevitable I’d return to 5SOS because they had released their fourth full-length album during the first few weeks of the quarantine. Everywhere on social media, I was reminded that one single was out, and then another, and then another and I figured that it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try. After all, I did give Youngblood, their third record, a spin when it first came out as well. I thought their attempts at experimentation bordered on pretentiousness, and figured that if this was the musical direction they wanted to take, I’d surely hate every succeeding record as well.

But the problem was I really liked it. Although it wasn’t a no-skip album, each track was different from the rest, all showing a level of inventiveness and mastery of musical technique not present in previous releases. After playing the entire thing again and again, even the songs I didn’t vibe with at first started to grow on me. Turns out the beauty of Easier and Teeth is in the details: the thrumming bass at the beginning, the unconventional vocal inflections, best appreciated in an enclosed area with the volume on high. My amazement at how their musical style had progressed over the years led to me listening to all of their albums in chronological order, then rewatching some of their funniest interviews which were alarmingly easy to retrieve from memory.

During these times, I’ve wondered why I still remain curious about what they’re doing, why I still give their music a shot when I see it on my Release Radar. They never apologized for the article and I assume that they talk about things of that sort even more now that they’re older.

And I guess the answer is simple. Besides the fact that the music is honest to God amazing, they kind of made me who I am. Having found them during the height of my teen angst phase, I reveled in having idols who were open about rebelling against the system and forging our own paths despite being looked down on by those older than us. It was through them that I was introduced to bands that further diversified my taste in music, that I started experimenting with a more introspective type of writing that led to the style I employ to this day. I made so many good friends because of them, some of which are still in my life today. Looking back, I wouldn’t consider it the best version of myself but she was different. More importantly, she was really happy.

—

I am well-versed in the discourse surrounding problematic faves, and I know that if I ever find myself in such a situation, I have two options: either go down the productive, politically correct road and steer clear from them, or continue to consume their work but with the knowledge that what they did was inexcusable. I teeter between boycotting their music altogether—because even Spotify streams can be translated into revenue and there’s nothing that powers oppressors like financial stability and fame—and choosing to separate the art from the artist so I can appreciate good work without the reputation of its creator clouding my judgment.

I guess at this point, I probably am looking at them with rose-tinted glasses. I heard that some victims of even the most abusive and toxic relationships look back at their time with their former significant others with fondness. Though what I had with Calum, Ashton, Luke, and Michael was nowhere near romantic, and their transgressions far from a personal attack, maybe it applies to my situation too. I look at 5SOS now through the lens of the 14-year-old who embedded watching Keeks into her daily routine, or fell asleep listening to Heartbreak Girl on repeat and rejoiced when it hit 1,000 plays on her iTunes. They are no longer that band, and I am no longer that girl. And while it doesn’t hurt to remember the times when we were those people, I must remind myself that things can never go back to the way they were.

Maybe this doesn’t have to be as dramatic as I’m making it. But that’s the good thing about keeping this blog despite getting published on other corners of the Internet—I can make it as dramatic as I want to be.

[angeltriestoblog]

I watched a couple of movies! (April roundup)

I’m glad to announce that I finally found a way to rave about the movies I’ve watched without boring you all to death, driving myself to the brink of insanity, and damaging my eyesight even more. Instead of giving a comprehensive review on each one, I decided to give you my top picks for every month in an attempt to convince you to watch these life-changing pieces of cinema! Maybe someday I could include some of the worst I’ve seen as well because it's easier (and more fun) to point out the flaws I spot.

So without further ado, here are the creme of the crop for the month of April!

Philadelphia (1993, dir. Jonathan Demme) ★★★★★

This superbly crafted film was one of the first in Hollywood to tackle the issue of HIV/AIDS—and with the right amount of sensitivity—during a time when discrimination against victims was at its most rampant. That fact alone makes it deserving of the praise, recognition, and accolades it has collected over the years. Add to that the remarkable performance of Tom Hanks as Andy Beckett, the lawyer fired from the prestigious firm he works for who enlists the help of Joe Miller (Denzel Washington) to take this matter to court. His dedication to the role is evident not only in his dramatic weight loss but the intensity of the emotions he brings to all of his scenes. Though I know a lot of audiences are concerned that the account is told mainly from Miller’s perspective, I found this aspect crucial to his growth as a character and the movie’s effectivity as a call to empathy and compassion.

Certified Copy (2010, dir. Abbas Kiarostami) ★★★★½

It's so difficult to review this without giving away what makes it different from anything that's ever been made, probably. But then again, even if I dive deep into the plot and provide my theories, I doubt it’ll make sense so I’ll say this. Certified Copy is a mind-bender of an arthouse film disguised as a love story of the Before Sunset variety. It’s a deceivingly linear tale of a French woman known only as “She” (Juliette Binoche) who goes to a book signing and offers to explore the city of Tuscany with the author (William Shimell). His work asserts that the reproduction of a certain thing possesses as much value as the original, so much so that it can even take its place. The extent to which this is true is shown in the many ways their relationship changes in the span of a single afternoon. It’s normal to be frustrated once you’ve finished it. I had a “What the hell?” moment myself and had to rewatch some parts a few more times. But once you realize that the plot is an artifice, like fiction and art itself, that’s when you come to terms with how real it actually is.  

The Farewell (2019, dir. Lulu Wang) ★★★★★

This is practically Wang's two-hour thesis on why grandmothers are the best people on the planet and we don’t deserve them. It's not like I needed an external source to prove it was true but I adored it anyway. This Oscar snub is “based on a true lie”: Nai Nai (Zhao Shuzhen), the matriarch of a Chinese clan, is diagnosed with cancer, and her loved ones go to extreme lengths to keep it a secret from her. I appreciated the accurate depiction of the mess that is the Asian extended family: immigrant parents, their first-generation kids, and the relatives they left behind at the homeland under one roof can only mean endless bickering and picking at old wounds. But in all seriousness, its grasp of human emotions—as seen in the brilliant acting performances and authentic dialogue—reels you in instantly and keeps you emotionally invested and painfully waiting for the heartbreaking (?) conclusion.

Interstellar (2014, dir. Christopher Nolan) ★★★★★

In what is arguably Nolan’s most complex and ambitious work yet, we find Cooper (Matthew McConaughey) in what appears to be a shadow of the Earth we live in right now. After a fateful turn of events, he is tapped by NASA to carry out a mission in search of a habitable world for the human population. Rarely do we see a creative project that aspires to be everything at once and succeeds with flying colors. Interstellar is that gem for me. It pushes the limits of our imagination and tests the very boundaries of science and space while serving as a reminder of what it means to be human. It may clock in at 167 minutes but I think that if the run time had been cut down, it would be impossible to do justice to this multi-faceted story. In fact, with the emotionally resonant performances by the cast as well as the phenomenal score (Hans Zimmer, you are a god) and cinematography, I am honestly willing to see another three hours of extra footage.

Mommy (2014, dir. Xavier Dolan) ★★★★½

This… was a lot. I remember watching this first thing in the morning a couple of weeks ago, and not being able to do anything of importance for the entire day since I was too busy wondering if I’ll ever be suitable for the lifelong commitment that is motherhood. This award-winning, affecting tale revolves around Die Despres (Anne Dorval), a struggling journalist and single mom to Steve (Antoine Olivier Pilon), her hyperactive, abusive son diagnosed with ADHD. Although a law had been passed in Canada which lets cash-strapped parents place their troubled kids in hospitals, she refuses to give him up and takes him under her wing: after all, they’re best at loving even when it’s hard. What unfolds after makes it hard to tell how the whole thing ends, but it’s a visually arresting and thought-provoking experience anyway. Dolan also possesses a strong command of the language of filmmakers: critics agree that its most notable aspect is the fact that it was shot in a 1:1 aspect ratio, which allowed me to assume the position of a next-door neighbor peering through their living room window.

Frances Ha (2012, dir. Noah Baumbach) ★★★★★

Before Greta Gerwig was the director extraordinaire we know her to be, she was Frances Halladay, an aspiring dancer who moves to New York City with her best friend and comes face to face with several, consecutive life crises. Her reality couldn’t be any further removed from mine (as a 19-year-old student on the complete opposite side of the world), but it remains highly relatable. At their core, her problems are rooted in a fear of loneliness and failure—just like the rest of us! Come to think of it, maybe that’s why it’s in black-and-white: to give the movie a sense of timelessness since it tackles themes and issues that remain universal and prevalent across generations. I loved Frances as a protagonist, though she far from perfect: she’s immature and petty and quite frankly, she had no clue what she was doing until the last 15 minutes—just like me! And yet she powered through in the end, which gives me hope that I’ll be able to do the same.

Fight Club (1999, dir. David Fincher) ★★★★½

Believe it or not, despite its straightforward title and predominantly male fanbase, I was completely taken aback when the unnamed narrator (Edward Norton) and Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt) started beating each other up in the middle of a parking lot—the very event that led to the establishment of their underground fight club. What initially appears to be a man’s search for a way out of the boring humdrum of his everyday existence evolves into a structural analysis of consumer capitalism and critique of toxic masculinity. There’s a lot of gore and violence but I pulled through thanks to the stunning visuals, unpredictable plot, and Brad Pitt’s beautiful face. Although the twist towards the end wasn’t exactly revolutionary for me because it kind of resembled Primal Fear (1996), it was still a mind-blowing and fitting conclusion to this cult classic.

Pretty Woman (1990, dir. Garry Marshall) ★★★★★

This modern-day Cinderella story about a hooker who falls in love with a wealthy businessman has become problematic for my generation. There are a ton of essays on Letterboxd attempting to start discourse on its ethics, calling it out for its misogynistic undertones, and criticizing it for being unrealistic. I actually saw a review that said it indirectly promotes prostitution as a means to get ahead in life, which could wrongly influence teenage girls. (How stupid do you think we are?) At the end of the day, this is a romantic comedy—and an outstanding one, at that! This probably has the most equal distribution of swoon-worthy scenes and laugh-out-loud moments out of all the romcoms I’ve watched, and we have the lead actors’ insane chemistry and the consistently witty script to thank. Needless to say, Julia Roberts is an absolute delight as Vivian Ward and it’s only fitting that it was this particular role that catapulted her to superstardom. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna rewatch this then proceed to play It Must Have Been Love for another 70 times.

The Fundamentals of Caring (2016, dir. Rob Burnett) ★★★★★

I genuinely think that everything Paul Rudd touches turns to gold. Here, he plays Ben, caretaker to Trevor (Craig Roberts), a sarcastic teen suffering from Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. Together, they make a spur-of-the-moment decision to take a cross-country road trip to see several roadside attractions and of course, come to terms with their own issues. I admit that my love for this comes with the acute awareness that if I had found it on Netflix at a different time, I wouldn’t have appreciated it as much. It’s fairly predictable, it doesn’t strive towards anything complex or require much reflection on our part but it ties together neatly and satisfyingly in the end—truly a perfect comfort film! The equivalent of the warm, 10-second-long, oxytocin-inducing hug that we all need and can't have right now, given the state of our world!

Edit (05/09/20): I’m currently binge-watching Timothee Chalamet interviews and he just told Stephen Colbert that he had auditioned for this but wasn’t accepted for the job. Imagine him and Paul Rudd together... the visual power that duo would hold... I would miss the point of the movie entirely.

So, that’s it for this month! I’ve actually been spending more time writing lately but I hope I can continue to squeeze in something to watch into my schedule so I can actually be consistent with this series. Till next time! Exciting things up ahead! Wishing you love and light always, and don’t forget to wash your hands, check your privilege and pray for our frontliners!

[angeltriestoblog]

I figured out what I want to do with my life! And made a vision board!

It came to me in a flash, really. One minute, I was watching a handpainted narration of the life and death of one of the greatest painters of all time, and next thing you know, I've abandoned it completely and started furiously typing away at my laptop about what I envisioned myself to be in five years' time. And I know I've had my fair share of false alarms in life: I thought I had what it takes to be a lawyer after seeing Legally Blonde for the first time while on my way to a school field trip, and seriously considered pursuing a career as a fashion blogger or MTV VJ because I was kind of fed up with school.

But this one just makes sense. Advising and assisting clients in producing content, collaterals, and campaigns according to their business objectives and based on collected data! It marries my love for writing, my knack for snooping around (the academic term is research!), and the specialty in technology and management my university ensures I'll have at the end of my four-year degree. i have yet to see how it’ll allow me to give back to society since that’s also a factor I want to consider in looking for a dream job but I’ll make it work. I found it hard to sleep that night, thanks to this nerdy, giddy kind of adrenaline rush I had. I broke down this big idea into smaller and smaller action steps until all I had left was a refined list of ideas and intentions, and a splitting headache.

I needed to make sure I was constantly reminded of their existence so all my choices and decisions would serve as a step closer to reaching all of them. So I caved in to the wishes of the "law of attraction" side of the Internet, and created my very own vision board! Simply put, this act of visualization is a powerful technique that can be used to manifest desires and reach goals. Our subconscious minds mainly recognize symbols and images: by merely looking at our vision boards everyday, subliminal messages are being sent to our brains, which will encourage them to work tirelessly to achieve the statements we are feeding to them. I can't find any explanation for this that's less abstract but since many people seem to swear on it and I have a lot of free time and printer ink, I figured why not, right?

It was convenient that I had this small corkboard from Daiso already stuck to one corner of my bedroom wall with several layers of double-sided tape. It used to be a year-long calendar of birthdays but I realized that I've never referred to it and often have to rely on either Facebook reminders or stock knowledge--there is no in between. All I had to do was to look at my list of goals, and compile photos that correspond to each of them, cut them up and arrange them in an aesthetically pleasing manner. You'll see below that I lacked the stereotypical luxury car and beachfront mansion with a walk-in closet and that's because I decided to focus on my goals for the next five years so it looks even a little bit more achievable.  

Here's the finished product, along with explanations for each picture, to make this how-to more personal and to also hold myself accountable.

 Make my girl Jenna Rink and everybody at Poise proud by writing for a magazine | I had listed a specific one at the time, and if you follow me on Twitter and Instagram, you already know what it is and how this endeavor turned out - but on this blog, I'll shroud it in a little cloud of mystery for now and talk about it more in a future post. I'm very happy producing content for this space of mine and have no intention of stopping any time soon. But at the same time I know that I'd be missing out if I didn't take the chance to be part of a community that leads me to like-minded individuals, allows me to grow even more in my craft, and "gives creators a space to speak their minds and push the limits of their artistry, without imposing any restrictions or expectations", as I stated in my application form.

 Be active in three organizations next school year | (I had to blur one of them out because I'm not a member yet and I don't want to jinx it.) I know it's bold of me to assume that we'll be returning to school any time soon, but if we are ever lucky enough, I want to outdo myself when it comes to the orgs I'm a part of. I have been a good follower throughout my first two years of college but now I believe it's my time to try my hand at leading a group of people and being more involved in the conceptualization and execution of projects.

 Go on a trip to Europe | Not even just a specific group of countries anymore (I used to be a France, Italy, Spain supremacist)--I mean the entire continent! (But then again, with its rich history and culture, picturesque tourist spots, diverse cuisines... even the sheer adrenaline rush that comes with being in a land completely different from the one you come from, how could anyone not want to go?

 and 12. Get the job of my dreams | I actually nicked these photos from the website of a cooperative I want to work for once I graduate from college. I know that I can't plan out the rest of my career trajectory as early as now: things are bound to change at some point, but I hope that I stay in a field that combines creativity and business strategy to craft campaigns, create meaningful content, and market solutions to brands.

 Expand my network | I acknowledge how knowing people who know people who know people can open windows of opportunities that I wouldn't have been able to have anywhere else. But I also look forward to building genuine connections with people from all sorts of industries. Talking to the same circle of friends can sometimes feel like you're trapped in an echo chamber: there is certainly much to learn from others' viewpoints.

 Volunteer to teach kids | I don't think the written word could have changed my life as much as it did, had it not been for the presence of English teachers who believed in the power of the language to shape the minds of the youth. I guess this is just me trying to give back and help the next generation express their ideas and bring them to life by channeling my inner John Keating.

 Maintain a clean workspace that is conducive to productivity | Especially during these days, I spend a solid 18 out of 24 hours sat at my desk, trying my best to make magic happen. It's very important that I keep it a constant and active source of inspiration, free from any distractions, and at the right level of comfort. Although it's not as minimalist as I hoped it would be and my table is about an inch too high for my liking, I'm still pretty satisfied!

 Document memories consistently, be it through a physical or online journal | Speaking of clearing out my room, I recently found around 20 notebooks I had filled up over the years. Though maintaining them must have been such a hassle especially as I got older and reading through them was a distraction from completing the task at hand, I am thankful I painstakingly chronicled everything going on in my life and kept them in good condition. Seeing the goals I had set for myself all those years ago and how I achieved most of them without making a conscious effort has inspired me to do my older self a favor by putting in the work now so she can reap the rewards. (While I'm on this note, can anyone recommend a good app for journaling? I keep all my current entries in my Mac's Notes app because even though I am more of an analog person, I seemed to have lost the patience and persistence required to keep a physical journal. But at the same time, I'm scared of my laptop suddenly cr*shing and wiping out everything I had stored)

 Stay focused on my work always | I didn't know how to show this without having to spell it out in words so I Photoshopped my face onto the head of a woman working in a cafe because those who study in coffee shops along Katip always look like they're getting stuff done.

 Keep learning about the world even when I'm outside of the classroom | And this is not limited to frequenting the nearby museum, although that does sound like a great idea right now. This could also mean attending seminars, workshops, and talks, buying books and binge-watching documentaries or YouTube videos about a topic that I find interesting, engaging in discourse with someone (plus points if they have a different viewpoint!)

 Write my own book | Before I even found out that humans were destined to pick a career and work until they died, I already knew that I wanted to spend my days as a writer. Specifically, I wanted to see my name on the cover of a book: By Angel Martinez. (Please refer to the 4:32 of this video and look at how far this dream actually goes back.) But once I realized that I wanted to enter the world of business, I thought I would have to give this up altogether. Thankfully, I now know that one's ability to get published is not reliant on their career--I mean, even beauty gurus get book deals these days. I'm not really sure what it's going to be about but I'd honestly be down for anything: even if it's just a compilation of my best entries on this blog.

13. Go all out when I take myself on self-care dates | I'm talking about picnics at the beach, with a basket full of fruits, a posh looking hat, and a good piece of classic literature! Or fancy dinners for one complete with as many glasses of red wine as I can down! People watching at Downtown Disneyland like my paternal grandmother in hand, with a plastic bag of souvenirs on one hand and a cream cheese pretzel on the other! (The possibilities are endless and I'm already mapping most of them out.)

14. Be financially stable enough to re-enact that one scene in Pretty Woman where Vivian Ward struts down the streets of Beverly Hills in a chic white dress and black hat, an endless number of shopping bags in tow | The part where I humiliate a sales lady who snubbed me the day before because she didn't think I could afford what she was selling by saying, "You work on commission, right? That's right. Big mistake, big, huge." is entirely optional.

I also included some two inspirational sayings that were originally laptop wallpapers from The Everygirl. I feel like they perfectly sum up the attitude I want to have as I forge my own path and accomplish everything I have set out for myself. If I was somehow able to convince you that this activity serves as the perfect springboard for all your dreams and aspirations, here are a couple of tips that could hopefully help you make yours!

Be ready for some intense introspection | Though it may look like a simple arts and crafts activity at the surface, making an effective vision board simply cannot be achieved if you're not willing to do some much needed reflection and watch it balloon into a full-on existential crisis. Identify which areas of your life are most important to you and how you would like to see them evolve over a period of time.

Specificity is key | The trick is to make your goals as concrete as possible, then translate them into visual elements. I know some people who wanted to get into particular universities, who have Photoshopped their names onto acceptance letters and pinned those to their corkboards. As stupid as that may sound in retrospect, I reckon it's an elaborate way of claiming something that's right within your reach.

Design it any way you want | Don't feel pressured to make it look like it's worthy to be on someone else's Pinterest because that's exactly how you lose sight of why you're doing it in the first place. The only person your final output has to resonate with is you.

Don't get discouraged | Although a vision board can attract positive energy and manifest your intentions to the universe, one thing it isn't capable of doing is granting your wishes in an instant. Don't be upset if what you have cut out and stuck on has yet to happen: I truly believe in the saying that the more you look for something, the more it seems to avoid you. Instead, continue to work hard and focus on the progress that you have already made.

Have you made a vision board of your own already? How has it turned out, and how many of the things you had put up have come true? I know you may be a complete stranger from the other side of the world but I'd be happy to hear from you anyway! Wishing you love and light always, especially during trying times such as this. Wash your hands, pray for our frontliners, and check your privilege!

[angeltriestoblog]

I try to cook!

This is going to come as a huge disappointment to the Tiktok community, but no I don’t do the cooking, no I don’t do the cleaning—kind of surprising for someone who eats so much! I mean, it’s not like I never tried. I did learn how to make nilagang manok and instant noodles over my five month long summer vacation before the start of college (and threw in the towel shortly afterward), and also expressed interest in being the cook whenever my friends and I go out for samgyup. But yeah, that’s about as far as I would go. Until today!

After almost two months indoors, I’ve been craving certain food that are either unavailable at restaurants for pick-up, or offered in branches that don’t deliver to my house. My love for them ultimately trumped my deep-seated aversion to anything that requires me to leave my seat, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. After collecting recipes, buying ingredients, and experimenting with flavors, I was able to come up with three decent dupes for some of my favorite dishes!

Kko Kko cheese fondue

This is a really simple, no-frills recipe but I still had to make some variations here and there: it’s common knowledge that [1] I don’t like bread (my friends have already interrogated me about it multiple times—I am a rice kinda woman!), and [2] there are barely any frozen finger foods in stock at the groceries. Thankfully, my mom was able to find a fitting substitute! Although it tasted mostly of breading, it went well with the dip anyway.

INGREDIENTS

Cheez Whiz, 110g

Fresh milk, 100ml

Shrimp poppers, 200g

French fries, 450g

Basil leaves

STEPS

Slowly pour the cheese in a pan, over low heat.

Add milk into the mixture and immediately turn off the stove so it doesn’t curdle. Although it’s relatively safe to eat, it doesn’t look appetizing and it can’t be reversed once done: you’ll be left with little lumps suspended in the sauce.

Stir thoroughly, until it reaches a pale yellow-orange color

Set aside and sprinkle with dried basil leaves before serving

For both shrimp poppers and French fries, just deep-fry them until golden brown. The former is a bit more difficult because they’re several spherical pieces, so it’s hard to ensure they’re all evenly cooked. (Don’t forget to wash your hands before you do any dipping!)

Pancake House corned beef hash

I remember being in Pancake House with my friends on my last day in the outside world and I deliberately chose not to order this even if it’s my go-to comfort food—for what reason, I have no idea why! I have beat myself up for it ever since. Thankfully, my version is almost as good as the real thing: I was able to base it off a recipe for croquettes! Although the breading used makes a significant difference, the generous filling surely makes up for it.

INGREDIENTS

HASH

Corned beef, two 380g cans

Eggs, four pieces

Bread crumbs, 500g

Potatoes, four pieces

Mayonnaise, two 2ml packs

Salt, to taste

Minced garlic

RICE

Butter

Cheese, as much as you want

Baby tomatoes

STEPS

Slice the potatoes into squares, then boil; season with salt to taste

Set aside in a bowl and mash into smaller squares with a fork

Saute the corned beef with minced garlic (life hack for those who don’t feel like picking up a knife—tastes just the same!): keep stirring until it has dried up. Set aside and let cool.

Mix the corned beef, potatoes, and two egg yolks in a bowl thoroughly.

Prepare two separate containers: one with two cracked and beaten eggs, and another with breadcrumbs. This is where the magic happens!

You can opt to do this next step with your hands or with the aid of a spoon, in case you happen to be growing your nails out too. Scoop a portion of the corned beef mixture and dip it in the egg mix, before rolling all sides evenly with breadcrumbs.

This recipe yields 12 pieces of hash, so repeat the previous step for as many times as necessary. You can also mold them into different sizes, but it’s advisable that you keep them small so it’s easier to fit many of them in the pan when we get to the next step.

Deep fry over medium heat for five to 10 minutes each side, depending on how well done you want it. Check on it regularly though, because it could burn easily because of the egg. Once done, set aside to cool, then drizzle a generous amount of mayonnaise on top.

To prepare the rice, melt a teaspoon of butter and grated cheese in a pan over low heat before adding a cup of rice into the mixture. Serve topped with halved baby tomatoes.

Koomi Mango Moo

I visited Koomi’s Instagram page to double-check the spelling of my order, and was met with the initially devastating news that their Robinsons Magnolia branch has been open for a week now. I easily could have asked my parents to buy me a cup when they went to the supermarket there last weekend. But now I have no regrets since I can replicate it any time I want without having to leave the comfort of my own home!

INGREDIENTS + STEPS

Mango, one half cup, sliced

Plain yogurt, 250g

Fresh milk, 100ml

Honey, three tablespoons

Literally the easiest recipe in the book: put all contents into a blender, and let it do the magic! 10 seconds was enough for me to get the frothy consistency I wanted.

VERDICT: SUCCESS!

Overall, I’m really satisfied with how I did: not only were the results pretty damn delicious (and I’m speaking from a completely objective point of view), but I also partially fulfilled my childhood dreams of being on Masterchef—minus the heart-stopping time limit and the British chef screaming curse words in my face.

Of course, I wouldn’t have been able to accomplish this without my mom, who served as both sous chef and crash course instructor: had she not stepped in at key moments of the procedure to check on my progress, there is a likely chance that I would have burned down my house. My dad was also kind enough to shower me with compliments while he was eating what I made for dinner: it definitely makes the backache I got from hunching over both the dining table and stove top for three hours very worth it!

If you guys end up trying out any of these recipes and want to share the outcome, I welcome accounts of both disastrous and successful attempts in my messages! Hope everyone is keeping safe and sane during this quarantine, especially because the lockdown period has been extended another two weeks as per our Pr*sident’s most recent statement.

Love and light always,

Angel

[angeltriestoblog]

I took an online course!

Hello, and welcome to my first proper post under the #quarantingz tag: a little series where I chronicle all of my virtual endeavors and adventures in the time of COVID-19. Through this, I hope to achieve the following (research paper ka, gh0rl?):

Share what I’m doing with all of you guys, since it’s much easier than messaging and video calling you all one by one to confirm that yes, I am alive despite my inactivity on Messenger;

Hold myself accountable so I strive to find ways to keep myself occupied instead of sinking back into stagnancy;

Inspire you to pick up a hobby or try something out while we’re all cooped up indoors! I’ve seen a lot of my friends post that they’ve been getting so bored that even sleeping seems like a chore to them, but the four walls of your room present more opportunities than you think. Let’s try them out together!

And before anything else, it’s worth mentioning that this pandemic is not a productivity contest and we should not feel pressured into making or being the Next Big Thing. But, I believe there’s nothing wrong in seeking structure for one’s self-improvement if your mental health is up for it!

Ok. [START]

During the early weeks of the pandemic, online classes were still ongoing for students at my university, and needless to say, I was not having it. I was already worried enough about the possibility of contracting a life-threatening virus, and on top of that, I had to decipher lessons I could barely understand in a face-to-face set-up, and submit a paper on it that was worth half my grade. But thankfully my university opted to exercise cura personalis—“care for the entire person”, individualized attention to their needs—towards those who lacked the resources needed to keep up with the demands of e-learning. So, they cancelled the rest of the semester! I was filled with relief because as necessary as it might have been to stay on track, it was not an effective way to facilitate learning and retaining of information.

Which is why it’s kind of ironic that one of the first things I did once I realized I had so much free time on my hands was sign up for an online class. *cricket noises*

A friend had sent me a viral listicle of 500 free Ivy League courses. I guess a lot of people had looked at the indefinite quarantine period available at their disposal as an opportunity to learn something new! And well, I couldn’t help but join along, especially since Harvard was my dream school growing up, and they were offering hundreds of programs for me to choose from. (Sorry, Ateneo. I did say otherwise on my application essay.)

Growing up, I had wanted to be an author-doctor-scientist-rockstar-supermodel. I consistently proclaimed this to anyone with ears, whether they liked it or not, with all the conviction my four-year-old body held inside. I hadn't the faintest idea which degrees I needed to get to make a livelihood out of these childhood fantasies, but I figured that if I was going to be a legendary multi-hyphenate, I’d have to come from the best university in the world. I also remember negotiating with my family members from the States that I would have to live with them while I was finishing my college education, not knowing how far their humble home in Orange Country, California was from Cambridge, Massachusetts. Reality inevitably took over—more like, held the reins on my ambitions—and I had to accept that there were several constraints in place that would keep me from studying there despite my desire to.

Well, that was until I chose to take up a course on rhetoric, the art of persuasive writing and public speaking under HarvardX! I picked this out of the several options because I believe learning to separate logic from emotional appeal helps me analyze an argument better and craft more well-informed decisions—definitely a skill we must have in our toolbox given today’s media landscape that is constantly inundated with fake news.

I was to learn about how arguments are structured and how rhetorical techniques are usually employed by dissecting a number of influential and prominent speeches in American history. I then had to apply these learnings in two major written requirements: an opinion editorial and speech, both on any topic of my choice.  

Every morning for a week and a half, I would wake up as early as 9:00AM—just when some people on my timeline are getting ready to go to sleep—and dive straight into my lessons. I decided to take on a module a day since each was pretty packed with information in the form of readings and videos. More often than not, the flow looked like this:

The transcript of an address by a prominent American figure: examples of which are Former Presidents John F. Kennedy and Ronald Reagan, as well as Martin Luther King, Jr. I would annotate this with my first impressions, opinions on any lines and ideas that struck me.

The background of the speaker and the context of the speech: This honestly contributed a lot to my understanding and appreciation of the material. Although I’ve heard of most of them through almanacs I’d read as a kid, I never knew the story behind them.

The key concepts of the module: These consisted of terms and examples, as well as how to make use of them properly and to my advantage. Examples of the topics covered were modes of appeal, kinds of reasoning, and logical fallacies (my favorite).

The transcript, again: For the second round, I would have to spot the concepts that were previously taught to me, in action. When I was fully drained of my brain juice, I had the option to view and respond to the comments of my peers, as well as the lecture notes of my virtual professors. I admit I didn’t get to interact with any of my fellow students: majority of them were from different timezones. I would occasionally creep on the forums, look at the replies my peers would leave, and see I was in the presence of people from Brazil, Mexico, the United Kingdom, and Australia.

Videos of actual lectures regarding the reading, held by the professor: This course is an online version of an existing in-person Harvard class called "The Elements of Rhetoric". Probably the best part of the daily lessons, because it felt like I was also sitting in, watching his students recite from the other side of the room.A quiz on the topics discussed: Very easy, and you get two attempts before you submit your final answer so it’s almost always a sure pass.

As I mentioned a while ago, there are two major outputs to be submitted and they involve a lot of writing and preliminary research. (I personally wouldn’t recommend this to you if you don’t derive pleasure from activities of that sort.) In an attempt to shed a light on a timely issue, I wrote my op-ed on the steps the Philippine government must take to rehabilitate our healthcare sector, and my speech on the use of social media as an effective political tool amid a crisis such as this. The last one was a requirement I had done for my Comm subject, which I tweaked for the sake of formality.

The op-ed was subject to self-evaluation: I had to answer questions on whether my submission met the set criteria or not and give proof as to why I thought so. The speech, on the other hand, was graded by two anonymous peers, who gave encouraging remarks and cited points for improvement. Although I knew I gave my best, my final grade was very much dependent on what they thought of my work so I was a bit nervous. Thankfully, everything went well: I got a perfect score on almost every component and secured a certificate of completion (which I had to pay for, but looks great on my Linkedin, if I do say so myself).

Overall, I enjoyed a lot and found the learnings I picked up to be useful. The ideas might seem abstract but the building blocks of rhetoric pepper even the minutiae of our daily conversations, whether we're aware of it or not. All of us engage in discourse and form our stances on issues using emotion, authority, or hard facts. We elaborate on them by stating the general premise then delving into specific examples, or the other way around. Our last resort tends to be a form of character assassination, faulty generalization, or leading question. The list goes on! I don't think I can speak or listen without policing someone in my head!My response towards this experience is a far cry from how I felt towards my required online classes for school, it's true. But, there are several factors that differentiated both of them.

I was able to choose what I wanted to study. No Quantitative Methods or Computer Science being forced down my throat (although I am revisiting my lessons in those respective subjects after I’m done with everything else I want to do, because I remember my parents paid for those). I am free to invest in areas outside the scope of my degree and gain key insight from the most reputable institutions around the world. I have the luxury to study to test something out, to see if it’s simply a hobby or a potential minor/double degree/career trajectory. If I find out after a few sessions that it’s not my cup of tea, I can easily unenroll and move on. Trying to do that in college would lead to disastrous consequences.

Another thing I liked was the freedom I had to go through everything at my own pace, mull over what I wanted to write for as long as I needed to, rewind and go back to parts in the videos that I liked. Additionally, if I wasn’t in the mood to do anything productive on a certain day (it happens to everyone), I could easily do so without the fear of missing out on anything. I know that a handful of courses do require you to stick to a schedule but everything is still within a reasonable time frame.

Now, I understand that several things are chipping away at our (deteriorating) focus right now. It’s hard enough when school demands so much of our energy—I remember my Quant prof had offered to teach us once via Zoom and though if we were only preoccupied with Netflix and trashtalkan groups back then, we collectively decided to ditch him. But, if you’re determined and committed to learning for leisure purposes, here are some tips that helped me hold myself accountable!

Tidy up, both physically and mentally.

Find a workspace that is conducive to learning. In the absence of a desk in a bedroom, the living room couch or the dining table when no one's eating meals are suitable alternatives. As long as there is a constant source of light, little to no noise, and a simple set-up that minimizes the chances of you leaving your work, it should be perfect!

And while we’re on that note, eliminate distractions. I only had my notebook, pen, and correction tape on the table along with my laptop: I made use of the Forest app regularly as well and now I have a nice collection of various shrubs and trees. I even put my phone on top of the cabinet, God knows my sedentary lifestyle keeps me from exerting the effort needed to stand up and reach for it.

If you aren’t sure that you can devote your full attention to the task at hand, get someone you trust to help you! I update my mom that I’ve been studying and fill her in on my progress not only because I am naturally predisposed to telling her everything going on my life, but also so she can help keep me on the right track and ensure I do my work.

Take it seriously.

Allot a specific time of the day for it. That way, it’s easier to integrate it into your routine and stop you from bailing halfway. For me, it's not advisable to go at it early in the morning, because your mind won't be ready to process anything of that scale. But, it has to be one of the first tasks of the day so you can avoid putting it off in favor of whatever your subconscious feels is more interesting.

Take notes when needed, complete the assigned activities seriously without consulting other sources, and participate in the forums as a substitute for recitation! Be the star student you wanted to be, but were probably too shy to turn into for the fear of being smart-shamed by your peers!

Try to see the purpose in what you’re doing.

In my case, it gave me the motivation to finish it so I could apply it in real-life situations and make the necessary changes in my behavior and habits.

This definitely isn’t the last online course I’m taking: as a matter of fact, I have a couple lined up! I’m currently working my way through something on strategic planning by this website called Culture and Creativity. Although the material has been tailor-fit to address the social and economic development of countries in Eastern Europe, the concepts can easily be utilized in local contexts. Here’s a list of other programs that caught my eye while I was browsing the different catalogs across other platforms.

Investor Pitching Course for Creative Businesses | Culture and Creativity

Applied Psychology: Introduction to Consumer Behavior | Alison Courses

Marketing Analytics | edX

Transformational Leadership | Alison Courses

Global Trends for Business and Society | Class Central

Wishing you all the love and light the world can offer at a time that can be as apathetic and dark as this one. Wash your hands, pray for our frontliners, and check your privilege!

[angeltriestoblog]

I watched a couple of movies! (Part 2)

Back again with the second bunch of my latest quarantine companions! My last post wasn't that long ago, but I’ve already gone through an additional 21 and thanks to the extension of the lockdown and the abrupt cancellation of the rest of my sophomore year in college, I predict that this number will only increase exponentially. I obviously have to start looking for a sustainable way of reviewing the media I consume (probably will try dumping mini-reviews on Letterboxd instead), but until then, here is today’s little catalog: divided into four neat categories so there’s a little bit of everything for everyone.

Dead Poets Society (1989, dir. Peter Weir) ★★★★½

John Keating is the teacher we secretly deserved yet never had, which is probably what's behind the fervent loyalty audiences have had for this movie since its release around three decades ago. His methods of teaching are admittedly unorthodox, but they effectively instill in fictional students and real-life audiences the core message: to seize the day and be extraordinary. I definitely would have appreciated more of Williams, though: I noticed later on that he was used mostly as a plot device, as the focus started to shift to the impact his words had on the group of young boys under his tutelage. But, thankfully they are endearing and lovable in their own little ways (special mention goes to ambitious Neil, played by Robert Sean Leonard; and Ethan Hawke as timid Todd), which is why the last half-hour remains one of the heaviest in recent memory.

Mrs. Doubtfire (1993, dir. Chris Columbus) ★★★★

When Daniel Hillard’s (Robin Williams) wife splits up with him and takes their kids, he disguises himself as an English nanny called Mrs. Doubtfire and applies as their housekeeper to be with them. Not exactly the most realistic and practical approach to an issue as serious as divorce, but it succeeds by banking on heartfelt humor to strike a chord in products of broken families. When you take his several antics, punchlines, and vocal impersonations aside, he is simply a father willing to do anything for his children. Williams was destined to be the lead for this: his comedic timing, sheer versatility, and natural ability to bring joy remain unparalleled. Such a shame I didn't get to grow up with this guy, but maybe this saved me a lot of heartbreak.

Catch Me If You Can (2002, dir. Steven Spielberg) ★★★★★

A con man successfully cashes in millions of dollars worth of checks as a Pan Am pilot, doctor, and lawyer, whilst evading the FBI agent who’s hot on his heels. And this is all before he turns 19 years old--what a total underachiever. The best part? It’s a true story. I find it hard to believe that this clever cat-and-mouse story lasted more than two hours: it's easy to lose track of time thanks to its dynamic and snappy screenplay, coupled with the chemistry of its brilliant lead actors (no less than Leonardo DiCaprio and Tom Hanks). But beneath the complex and technical aspects of his scams that have high entertainment and educational value lie touching moments that may be admittedly easy to miss. At the end of the day, these escapades were nothing but some twisted coping mechanism of Frank Abagnale, Jr.’s to deal with the divorce of his parents. *blows nose into handkerchief* Wow, I seriously didn't think something could be so fast and fun, yet so depressing either!

Good Will Hunting (1997, dir. Gus Van Sant) ★★★★★

Academy Award-winning writers Matt Damon and Ben Affleck may look like they share a solitary brain cell in total (a prime example would be this footage of their acceptance speech), but it was the power that radiated from that which brought us this instant favorite of mine. This engrossing story revolves around a janitor at MIT, with a genius-level IQ but a troubled and traumatic past. A scuffle with a police officer leads him to Sean, his therapist (and platonic soulmate) who breaks down his dangerous defense mechanisms and self-destructive patterns, helps him tackle his inner demons, and ultimately transforms his life. There is a lot to adore about this film that’s equal parts wit and heart, but my favorite has to be the razor-sharp and realistic dialogue between Damon and Williams. Smoothly transitioning from topic to topic—genuine friendship, abusive relationships, and everything in between—it gives us the opportunity to monitor Will’s growth while carefully examining these aspects of our own lives. With every word said, the audience is reminded once again of any person's innate capacity to change for the better as long as someone else believes in them.

Lost in Translation (2003, dir. Sofia Coppola) ★★★

Film Twitter and the Letterboxd community both made this out to be an outstanding piece of modern cinema, so I went in with very high expectations only to be sorely disappointed and unable to understand the hype behind it. This revolves around two lonely people who find solace in each other and the unfamiliar and unpredictable territory they're in, a storyline brimming with potential that just fell flat to me. I normally appreciate the beauty in silent and ambient scenes, but the ones that made up a huge bulk of this feature didn’t have substance—it was similar to watching mashed-up clips from some random travel vlog. I did find the choice of location fitting though, I am now a hundred percent convinced I should travel to Japan once this pandemic is over. And Scarlett Johansson is incredibly talented for her age: her ability to channel and characterize emotions that a 17-year-old may not even be able to comprehend is above par, which is the main reason why this gets a passing rating from me.

Forrest Gump (1994, dir. Robert Zemeckis) ★★★★★

What I would give to run into a chocolate-eating, Nike Cortez-wearing Forrest Gump at a bus stop, and hear him tell me these fantastic stories himself! This heartwarming tale shows the manner in which he weaved himself into significant historical narratives (literally and figuratively, thanks to the power of deepfake) and injects timeless lessons along the way. Tom Hanks is undoubtedly brilliant as the titular role, and as we see the world according to this feeble-minded and well-meaning man, we come to admire his values, appreciate his efforts, and forgive his occasional shortcomings. In this fast-paced and overly complicated world that we struggle to navigate, this can serve as a necessary breather, a reminder of the simple joys that the world has to offer.

Celeste and Jesse Forever (2012, dir. Lee Toland Krieger) ★★★★

I think this is the first time I’ve witnessed a breakup end rather amicably on the big screen: there's no screamfest that concludes with a cold slap to the face and a dramatic walkout, or a courtroom confrontation that unearths past transgressions, et cetera. Instead, the leads are forced to confront the fact that the friendship they have forged years before that eventually blossomed into something more will never be the same again. Even if they want to so, so bad. I guess that’s why this is so heartbreaking, and thus the perfect companion for any person in the process of finding themselves after the demise of a long-term relationship. Celeste (Rashida Jones) meanders through the process with an extreme lack of finesse—which is the most realistic way to do so—that heavily accentuates her several fatal flaws. But, she manages to finish strong, emerging as a self-reflective and action-driven version of who she was in the beginning. I definitely wanted additional exposure for Jesse (Andy Samberg), though, who was not only surprisingly tender and sensitive in contrast to the Jake Peralta we know and love (and want to pick on), but also an unexpected perfect onscreen match for Jones.

A Star is Born (2018, dir. Bradley Cooper) ★★★★

The third remake of the 1937 movie starring Janet Gaynor and Fredric March, this edition of A Star is Born strays far from the paths traversed by its predecessors (and this I am aware of, from that film analysis video binge I did recently). It’s the first to give Jackson Maine (Bradley Cooper), the has-been with a raging alcohol and drug problem, extensive back story that draws audiences closer to him. But, this character arc comes at the expense of Ally's, the talented singer that he propels to fame, played by Lady Gaga. It was a shame she wasn’t fleshed out as much as she should have been, given that Gaga was a natural, her vulnerability a far cry from her outrageous onstage persona. But, then again, expectations must be kept realistic: it would’ve been impossible to cram that into the specified duration. Nevertheless, I thoroughly appreciated it: though rehashed several times, a romance done this way keeps its key components while catering to the preferences of this generation. The soundtrack is outstanding, and the climax—though somewhat expected—finds new ways to reduce us to a puddle of tears, particularly as the last song number start to roll.

Fall in Love At First Kiss (2019, dir. Frankie Chen) ★★½

Our Times has been a favorite of mine for years, so I couldn't believe that I missed this work from the same director which starred the same male lead during its initial release. Turns out it didn’t make much of a difference whether I watched it or not. The storyline was silly, but forgivably so: in a school where students are segregated based on intelligence, a stupid girl is smitten by the smartest boy in school and gets rejected as soon as she confesses. Consequently, hell breaks loose after they are forced to live together for reasons you have to see to believe. I remember enjoying the first half, squirming in my seat because of Jiang Zhishu (Darren Wang) every chance I'd get. I can’t pinpoint where exactly it started going wrong, but I remember realizing that it is possible for something to drag along, yet also move so fast: to bore me with excessive detail in a single scene, then cut to the next so fast it loses a sense of continuity. In addition to that, the female lead (Jelly Lin) was so unbearable in terms of her acting style and character development (or lack thereof). She seemed to think that constantly complaining in her shrill voice and thrashing her limbs was a fitting substitute for dialogue, thus making it difficult to want her to get her happily ever after. Also, I’ve had pretty intense crushes in the past few years but what she has for Zhishu is bordering more on an unhealthy obsession—I have trouble believing he reacted so calmly to the shrine that she built for him (which included life-size pillows with his face on it).

The Object of My Affection (1998, dir. Nicolas Hytner) ★★½

I was very confused as to why I had never heard of a chick flick that starred two of my favorite actors from the 90s, but now I understand why it didn't take off. (Phoebe would probably share my sentiments. What's her best friend doing with her husband anyway? And why is he attracted to men?) Nina (Jennifer Aniston) is hopelessly in love with her gay best friend George (Paul Rudd), so much so that she decides she wants to raise her unborn child with him instead of with her overbearing and borderline manipulative boyfriend (John Pankow). Though it wasn't a complete disaster given that she didn't successfully convert him, Nina was far too demanding, constantly overstepping her boundaries, and feeding her delusions. Maybe it could afford a modern retelling since I know our generation could tackle the concepts of platonic soulmates and LGBTQ+ relationships in a way that is simultaneously vibrant and sensitive.

How to Lose A Guy in 10 Days (2003, dir. Donald Petrie) ★★★★★

Once I had tried my luck in a number of different genres, I decided to reward myself with a return to the cheesy, corny, and conventional chick flicks I am familiar with—and I’m glad that I picked this one! Andie Anderson (Kate Hudson) is a magazine columnist with her biggest scoop yet: an article on how to lose a guy in 10 days. To test this idea out, she tries it out on Ben Barry (Matthew McConaughey), who’s on a mission to make a girl fall for him within that duration as well. Their conflicting agendas lead to disastrously hilarious results as they realize that they’re both *gasp* catching feelings for each other! I enjoyed this very much despite the predictability, although I’m honestly unable to judge it based on any criteria other than what I felt which was pure and utter, slamming-the-table, throwing-my-stuffed-toy-across-the-room “kilig”.

Just My Luck (2006, dir. Donald Petrie) ★½

I didn’t expect this to be on the forgettable side of the romcom spectrum, when it had Chris Pine as the leading man and Brit-pop band McFly lending their music to most of the scenes (the sole redeeming factor I found). But, I guess it’s Lindsay Lohan’s character and her surprising lack of chemistry with the equally attractive and talented person opposite her that killed it for me. Here, she plays Ashley, the luckiest girl in the world who gets everything her way and is thus as snobbish and stuck-up as you’d expect her to be. A chance encounter brings her to Jake, who is the human equivalent of a black cat standing in front of a broken mirror, and swaps their fate. She is then left to deal with poorly contrived misfortunes with effects that are bordering on slapstick comedy: she gets doused in mud, mildly electrocuted, and soaked in bubbles shortly after blowing up a washing machine and I get that they’re probably supposed to be funny, but all I’m seeing is a live-action version of the Looney Tunes show.

Eighth Grade (2018, dir. Bo Burnham) ★★★★★

Entering our awkward preteen years has always come with a certain and specific kind of mortification, but I reckon it’s become increasingly difficult in the age of the Internet. It’s become easier to find fault in oneself for the pettiest of reasons: why isn’t my crush accepting my friend request? Why do I look like a monster in my #wokeuplikethis selfies? Why is no one viewing my YouTube videos even if I work hard on them? Eighth Grade encapsulates this difficult period in the lives of Gen Z kids with the use of experiences and references which are so specific to this generation: I may have gotten whiplash more times than I would care to admit. Elsie Fisher shines in her painfully relatable performance as Kayla: you can sense her desperation for social acceptance. She just wants to be worth noticing and remembering, is that so bad! Although his role is often overshadowed, I also felt for her dad (Josh Hamilton), who tries to hide the struggle of looking out for a daughter who's growing in ways he simply can't understand.

Boyhood (2014, dir. Richard Linklater) ★★★

This ambitious effort by the director of my favorite film trilogy observes the growth and development of a typical American boy named Mason. No fancy plot devices or major conflicts are in sight, but by using the keeping the cast members fixed during the 12 years it took to put this project together instead of swapping them out for older counterparts, audiences are expected to form an emotional connection with them because they were given an intimate and prolonged look into their lives. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case for me. Yes, I did watch him grow up before my eyes, but I barely know who he is. These mundane snippets of his life haphazardly stitched together, without any indication of how much time has elapsed since the previous scene, made it hard to keep up with the pace and look at the viewing experience as anything but a chore. I honestly am puzzled as to why I endured 165 minutes (I’m kidding, it was for Ethan Hawke) worth of footage, and sadly it wasn’t even worth it.

Brooklyn (2015, dir. John Crowley) ★★★★

This drama about the migration of an Irish girl to New York to seek better opportunities delves into the concept of what home truly is, as Eilis is left to choose between two men from two different countries. Divided into three segments revolving around pivotal events in the protagonist’s life, it sensitively tackles the experiences and issues familiar to any immigrant, remains true to the period it is set in, and engaging to audience members of all ages. Most in the historical genre are incapable of doing all three, so that's definitely no mean feat! And I’m not biased because Saoirse Ronan plays the starring role, although her compelling performance renders it impossible for anyone who claims to have a beating heart to finish this without puffy eyes and a heavy chest.

Happy Old Year (2019, dir. Nawapol Thamrongrattanarit) ★★★★

I thought Chutimon Chuengcharoensukying couldn’t top her role in Bad Genius, but she just had to come along and star in this personal take on new beginnings. Here, she plays Jean, a girl in the process of decluttering her house so she can transform it into an office space. While sifting through her possessions, she finds certain things belonging to people from her past, that remind her of broken relationships and question her philosophies on forgiveness and letting go. Her performance may be understated compared to the cunning and reckless Lynn she has become popular for, but I see this mastery of restraint as indication of her growth as an actress. The film is relatively simple in its execution, staying true to its central theme of minimalism. By stripping the structure down to the bare essentials of actor and dialogue, the audience can focus on the poignancy ingrained in the most mundane part of our everyday routines.

The Edge of Seventeen (2016, dir. Kelly Fremon Craig) ★★★★

It's actually true that a coming-of-age movie has been written based on every definitive moment a teenage girl experiences, they weren’t lying. The Edge of Seventeen could serve as part of Eighth Grade's cinematic universe, but instead we’re dealing with another reflection of who we were (or maybe still are). Nadine (Hailee Steinfeld) is a teen constantly teetering between arrogant self-assurance and sheer hopelessness. When she loses her best friend to her worst nemesis, she suddenly has to learn to navigate the ups and downs of adolescence and deal with her mental illness on her own. Besides focusing on the several firsts that we often encounter during this stage in our lives, the film accurately portrays our angsty and self-deprecating nature without resorting to mockery, therefore calling us out on this reflex we have of beating ourselves up and giving those around us permission to do so during such a critical part of our lives. I swore I was actually going to try not to cry here, but I guess Nadine's tearful monologue left me with no choice. (I'll leave it below so you can suffer with me.)

You know, ever since we were little, I would get this feeling like, like I’m floating outside of my body, looking down at myself… and I hate what I see: how I’m acting, the way I sound, and I don’t know how to change it. And I’m so scared that the feeling is never gonna go away.

The Kingmaker (2019, dir. Lauren Greenfield) ★★★★

This documentary is a fitting introduction for anyone who isn't familiar with the ill-gotten wealth and abuses the Marcoses have lying underneath their glossy veneer of opulence as well as the consequences of their actions that we suffer from to this day. Greenfield’s juxtaposition of this family’s fabricated stories and the testimonies of victims and first-hand witnesses was a smart move, as we observe the lengths they often go to, to revise the course of history. By spotting the parallels in their narrative and that of Rodrigo Duterte, the next strongman the voting population would unfortunately elect as their leader, we are also given a glimpse into the selective amnesia of the Filipino people that keeps these people in power. The danger lies in the fact that being an outsider herself, Greenfield leaves plenty of room for interpretation: there is no clear-cut statement of what was right and wrong among the several interweaving statements we heard. I was able to determine which was which is due to the fact that I already had prior knowledge, but where does that leave those who don't?

By the way, if you’re wondering why this has been grouped under this category, it’s because I remembered from Grade 6 science class that anger is one way to trigger adrenaline in the body.

Inception (2010, dir. Christopher Nolan) ★★★★★

Perfect always felt like a lazy way to describe what is supposed to be of superior quality. If you want to sing praises about anything that good, you're gonna have to do a better job than that to convince anyone that it's worth their time: was it inventive and bold or cerebral or emotional? Well, I'm afraid I have to bend this rule for Inception for the sake of brevity, because if I leave myself to ramble on about everything this did right, I would surely run out of adjectives. This sci-fi-heist-psychological thriller is in a league of its own, with its intricate plot and layered method of storytelling further amplified by stellar cast performances, masterful editing and special effects, and a thundering musical score that keeps audiences on edge for the entirety of its run. These elements come together to create a production that resonates and lingers with viewers long after the credits have rolled, partly thanks to that highly disputed final scene. (If my opinion is worth anything here, I believed that it stopped. Iykyk.)

The Lobster (2015, dir. Yorgos Lanthimos) ★★★★½

In this dystopian society, single people are required to check into a hotel in the hopes of finding a suitable partner within 45 days. If they fail to do so, they are sentenced to live the rest of their lives as an animal of their choice. It’s an absurd plot, far removed from reality, executed in a bleak and dry fashion. Yet, it manages to mirror and even satirize the world of modern relationships rather profoundly, particularly the societal pressure to couple up and find our ideal match instantly, or face harsh judgment. I doubt I've watched anything this dark in my life, but I found the unpredictable twists and turns, the deadpan humor, the sheer strangeness of it all very amusing and recommend it to anybody who wants to learn a thing or two about how blind love can be.

Ocean’s Eleven (2001, dir. Steven Soderbergh) ★★★★

I admit I was as pissed as Rusty Ryan (Brad Pitt) following his discovery that the reason why Danny Ocean (George Clooney) was keen on carrying out an elaborate heist of the three biggest casinos in Las Vegas was to win his wife (Julia Roberts) back. But, along the way, I was reeled in by the airtight pacing of the multiple scams that were a part of the scheme and the natural banter that takes place among the members of the ensemble. Also, it’s quite impossible to be annoyed at something that starred so many big names during the peak of their careers. (I have a soft spot for Matt Damon, thanks a lot Good Will Hunting.) Although I already knew what was going to happen, it was a joyride to see everything unfold. Based on the ending (and the copies of Ocean’s Twelve and Thirteen that my dad owned as a kid), I can tell that it’s far from over and I’m surely looking forward to what happens next.

So, that’s it for today’s round-up! Hope something caught your interest: I’d be happy to send 123m*vies links for any of those that aren’t available on Netflix. Feel free to hit me up too: I'm honestly up for thought-provoking discussions and straight-up keyboard smashing. Wishing you love and light always, and don’t forget to wash your hands, check your privilege and pray for our frontliners!

[angeltriestoblog]

I watched a couple of movies! (Part 1)

Back when I regularly had the luxury of long breaks, I spent my days binge-watching films, as you can see from my extensive knowledge of 80s chick flicks and all the cheesy tropes and disgustingly adorable, predominantly white leading men that come with them. Sadly, a side effect of growing older in the digital age seemed to be the diminishment of my attention span: the only things I could focus on were academic requirements, simply because I had to. But, thanks to several factors—the suspension of online classes, the sudden annoyance I developed towards Barney Stinson that prompted me to discontinue How I Met Your Mother, etc.—I decided it was high time to rekindle this lost love. So, here is an unsolicited review of the 17 films I managed to finish in a little over a week! Rest assured, I tried my best to venture out of familiar territory and brush up on some of the more cultured picks, according to Letterboxd, at least.

Bar Boys (2017, dir. Kip Oebanda) ★★★

The film that kickstarted everything, which I never would have seen if the director had not uploaded the full version on YouTube. This well-meaning tale of four best friends (Carlo Aquino, Rocco Nacino, Enzo Pineda, and Kean Cipriano) and the challenges they face in law school—terror professors, fraternities, and financial difficulties included—does have a lot of heart, and is sensitive enough to show how the effect of this experience differs depending on a student's background. But, what it lacked for me was a certain degree of specificity: I think the same premise would have been applicable in med school, or any other post-graduate degree for that matter. So, why did the characters choose law? I also would have appreciated some commentary on the shortcomings of the country’s justice system, and further fleshing out of the characters so the audience could have seen why we could count on them to fill in the gaps.

Legally Blonde (2001, dir. Robert Luketic) ★★★½

The rating might be surprising, considering that the courtroom scene was responsible for the short law school phase I had in Grade 5. As if I could ever make use of the rules of haircare in an actual cross-examination. Of course, I am compelled to admire Elle (Reese Witherspoon) and how her motivations for going to Harvard shift from winning back a boy to discovering what she never knew she had and using these gifts to help those around her (especially the manicurist, who I feel was given way more exposure than what was due to her). Ultimately, though it was inspirational at some points, it felt too good to be true and impossible to relate to. (But then again, shouldn’t there be a willing suspension of disbelief when consuming forms of media such as this?)

Lady Bird (2017, dir. Greta Gerwig) ★★★★★

I’ll probably end up making a separate post dedicated to this movie and how it singlehandedly called me out, as a sensitive, occasionally self-important product of an all-girls Catholic high school. For now, I am forced to condense my overflowing feelings into a couple of sentences. Lady Bird takes place over the course of the titular character's senior year, a pivotal moment in the lives of all teenagers. But, instead of focusing solely on the formulaic firsts like the normal coming-of-age film would, it shines a light on her dwindling relationship with her equally strong-willed mother. Saoirse Ronan’s colorful performance as the human embodiment of my pre-teen self's conscience, and Greta Gerwig’s tremendous ability to make even oddly specific scenes speak to any viewer shine through and speak to me the most, and easily make this gem something I will be recommending this to anyone who bothers to ask for as long as I live.

Bohemian Rhapsody (2018, dir. Bryan Singer) ★★★

There’s a lot of controversy surrounding Bo Rhap, particularly its failure to portray Freddie Mercury in a manner that does him justice. While I understand that it is a valid concern for fans of the band, I admit I don’t know enough about who he was as a person to criticize the film in this aspect. Regardless of its factuality, this still was just average for me, the typical rise-and-fall type of biopic that is indicative of a rockstar’s legacy, but with laughably faulty editing. The redeeming factors were Rami Malek’s brilliant portrayal of the legend himself—his Live Aid performance gave me chills that lasted the entire 20 minutes, how alarming—and, obviously, the soundtrack that I kept on loop for several days.

About Time (2013, dir. Richard Curtis) ★

Apparently, this movie focuses on Tim (Domhnall Gleeson), who discovers at age 21 that the men in his family have the power to time-travel and thus revise and repair certain parts of their lives. He uses this to address the fact that he’s never had a girlfriend, and effectively so as he ends up bagging Mary (Rachel McAdams), a charming American who is the settler in this relationship by default. But, of course, this gift is not without its dire consequences—or at least, that’s what it says on Wikipedia. It’s hard to trash on this and admit that I bailed halfway because so many of my friends swear by this. But, I just couldn’t stomach the lack of chemistry between the two leads; the surprisingly boring dialogue for a screenplay crafted by Richard Curtis of Notting Hill fame; and the story that, although bore enough of a resemblance to “The Time Traveler’s Wife” to be interesting, was still not powerful enough to sustain my attention.

Your Name (2016, dir. Makoto Shinkai) ★★★★★

I’m a huge fan of plots that are sure to make my eyes swell and heart hurt—I can’t explain the psychology behind this either. So when this was recommended to me and I had made it through an hour without shedding a single tear, I was prepared to be disappointed. But, the events leading up to the conclusion proceeded to rip me into shreds, as if to taunt me and say, “You asked for it.” Mitsuha (Mone Kamishiraishi) and Taki (Ryunosuke Kamiki), teenagers living on opposite sides of the country, suddenly start switching bodies following the appearance of a comet. This unexplainable phenomenon causes them to forge an unbreakable bond that transcends the very limits of time and space. I know the description is not much, but it’s best to experience this unique plot for yourself. Besides its storyline, its charm lies in its excruciating attention to detail in depicting life in urban and rural Japan, both in the realistic animation of one picturesque scene after another, and the use of cultural elements to arrive at a twist viewers will not see coming.

Booksmart (2019, dir. Olivia Wilde) ★★★★½

I can't summarize what I imagine Booksmart to be for teenagers in the future, so here's an entire scenario: It's the year 2070. Two young girls of around 16 are sprawled on their bedroom floor, watching this on whatever device they use for streaming. (Maybe it's from an LCD projector embedded in their foreheads, who knows.) The credits roll, and they instantly think to themselves, "Man, we were born in the wrong generation!" (They simultaneously think of doing a high-five, and without raising their hands themselves, it happens because that's technology.) Anyway, Amy (Kaitlyn Dever) and Molly (Beanie Feldstein) are best friends who played by the rules all throughout high school and realized too late that they could’ve afforded to have a little more fun. On the eve of their graduation, they decide to cram four years’ worth of adventure in a single unpredictable and outrageous night, getting to grips with everything that comes their way in an exceedingly comedic yet refreshing fashion. Also, the protagonists have such a genuine and wholesome relationship: the way they hyped up their most ridiculous looking outfits, or overshared borderline uncomfortable stories is honestly my personal definition of an ideal friendship.

When Harry Met Sally (1989, dir. Rob Reiner) ★★★★½

Despite this film’s constant presence in every “chick flicks you must watch” list I’ve bothered searching up, I spent a huge chunk of my teen years in constant protest against the decision to cast Billy Crystal as the male lead instead of, I don’t know, literally any other actor on the planet. But, once I finished it, I realized that he’s a much better fit than I thought. The laidback Harry to Meg Ryan’s finicky Sally, both of them spare no effort exploring and debunking truths and misconceptions about modern relationships: examples of which are the idea of being high maintenance, and the quintessential question of whether a guy and girl can ever be just friends. Although their dynamic is the definition of slow burn, audiences can’t help but earnestly root for the pair—the frustration brought by the several almosts pay off in the end, as they lead to one of, if not, the most romantic love confession scene.

Hintayan ng Langit (2018, dir. Dan Villegas) ★★★★½

This tale adapted from a play by no less than Juan Miguel Severo is set in purgatory—a grandiose art museum-four star hotel hybrid of sorts—where souls can stop and rest while their papers for entry to heaven are being processed. It is here we meet Manolo (Eddie Garcia) and Lisang (Gina Pareno), ex-lovers with unfinished business. Things admittedly start off a bit slow, but it's understandable since there needs to be ample provision of context regarding the standard operating procedures of this unique waiting area. Once that’s done, the focus stays on the main actors, who drive audiences to tears with their powerful performances, and thought-provoking questions on matters of betrayal, forgiveness, and the afterlife. The ending had me rocking back and forth like a baby, my shirt soaked with tears, so do take heed and stock up on tissues!

The Social Network (2010, dir. David Fincher) ★★★★★

Within its packed first 15 minutes alone, you can easily see what makes The Social Network an example of cinema at its finest: an intoxicated Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) hacks into the websites of all Harvard dorms to create Facebook’s oldest ancestor from scratch, in an attempt to get back at his ex-girlfriend. The atmosphere is tense, the dialogue is loaded with witty one-liners and powerful insight, and the actors are so in touch with their characters they practically fuse into a single person. This remains consistent for the next two hours or so, making for an enjoyable and fast-paced, yet still informative glimpse into the human side of what is arguable the most powerful company of this era. I also heard that it’s much more fun if seen with the cast commentary on, so I’m gonna have to find a copy of that for myself!

Pretty in Pink (1986, dir. Howard Deutch) ★★★★★

I’m cheating here, I know: this has been a long-time favorite, but I guess I can still give a review if I was still 15 when I last saw this. Andie (Molly Ringwald) and Blane (Andrew McCarthy)’s classic “poor girl + rich boy = happily ever after” story is masterfully tackled by John Hughes, who manages to inject equal amounts of swoon-worthy romance and biting criticism of the inherent class divide in society. Others would argue that Duckie (Jon Cryer), Andie’s devoted best friend, is the true star of the show, and while I do agree that he has his shining moments (if you listen closely, you can hear Try A Little Tenderness playing softly in the background), I sadly inherited my mother’s adoration for Andrew, which I will pass on to my child and so on—truly the defining characteristic of our lineage.

St. Elmo’s Fire (1985, dir. Joel Schumacher) ½

I understand that being an adult in the Real World is bound to come with some grave mistakes and lapses in judgment. But, not a single character in this friend group redeems themselves by the end. While Ally Sheedy’s Leslie and Mare Winningham’s Wendy were just borderline forgettable (why did the latter even end up here with the Brat Pack?), Judd Nelson’s Alec cheats on his girlfriend and believes that marriage is what will make him change his ways; Rob Lowe’s Billy neglects the family he didn’t plan on having by fooling around with other women and making a home out of his favorite bar; Demi Moore’s Jules relies on cocaine and extramarital affairs to hide trauma she refuses to process, and Andrew McCarthy’s pretentiously cynical Kevin suddenly claims he knows what love is when Leslie pays attention to him for 10 minutes. But, none of them compare to Emilio Estevez’ Kirby, the sociopath obsessed with a girl he barely knows. It honestly resembles some sick contest of how many problems this gang can cause before they end up behind bars, with the last scene being a lazy and rushed attempt to wrap everything up, in the name of this surface-level “friendship”.

Before Sunrise, Sunset, and Midnight (1995, 2004, 2013; dir. Richard Linklater) ★★★★★

Guess it’s better to admit it now, but I made this post as an excuse to rave about how beautiful this trilogy is, the most authentic depiction of love in its purest form. Sunrise has been recommended to me by both friends and the Netflix algorithm, but I put off watching it again and again and again. I mean, what could I possibly get out of looking at two strangers roam around Vienna? Well, to answer that question: quite a lot. Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and Celine (Julie Delpy)’s relationship spans an entire trilogy, and throughout that period, they manage to define then destroy the idea of having a soulmate to call your own in approximately six hours. But certain constancies are present in each movie: the emotion intense even in the smallest of gestures (you don't understand the anguish I feel when the scene at the listening booth randomly pops in my head), the dialogue truly thought-provoking and natural, the settings so picturesque, and the chemistry of the actors so electric I have trouble believing that the director didn’t actually invade the personal space of a real couple and eventually get issued a restraining order.

High Fidelity (2000, dir. Stephen Frears) ★★

I’d like to think of this as an essay: I'm confident that the introduction is the protagonist Rob's soliloquy on his five biggest breakups to understand why he’s so flawed that everyone always leaves him, and the conclusion his attempt to win his ex Laura (Iben Hjejle) back. But as for the body, I’m not entirely sure. Interspersed between these moments are thoughtful top five lists of anything that can be enumerated, and occasional banter with the employees at his record store that may be charming, but do not enhance the film in any way, shape, or form for me. Also, I normally enjoy seeing John Cusack onscreen, but more often than not, he was nagging in front of the camera instead of talking to the people around him; no wonder his relationships failed!

Scott Pilgrim vs the World (2010, dir. Edgar Wright) ★★★

I wanted to enjoy this so bad, I swear! Sadly, the one thing I gained after seeing this is knowledge of where the “I’m So Sad, So Very Very Sad” meme came from. I get that it’s supposed to resemble a comic book or video game, and maybe the reason why I failed to appreciate this as much is because I was never a fan of either. I found the prolonged action scenes surprisingly boring, the storyline too fantastic, and the whole quest of having to defeat seven monstrous exes for the hand of a manic pixie dream girl not worth it in the end. Although I can’t give it less than three stars given its impressive visual effects, and appeal to the entire Tumblr community (gamers on one end, millennial film connoisseurs on the other), it’s definitely not something I would watch a second time.

There will surely be more where that came from! (I mean it. Since completing this post, I’ve finished another five films.) If you wanna keep tabs on what I’m watching without having to wait on another post, you can give my Letterboxd a follow. Wishing you love and light always, and don’t forget to wash your hands and pray for our frontliners!

[angeltriestoblog]

Empathy in the time of COVID-19

Title was supposed to be a nod to Love in the Time of Cholera, if you didn’t catch that.

This quarantine period is, quite frankly, driving me insane. Besides the fact that I have to keep myself busy so I stop thinking of the disastrous consequences that would occur if I, or anyone I care about, happened to fall ill, I’ve also had to postpone a lot of plans and miss out on some pretty life-changing opportunities. Online classes have been suspended, but I’m struggling to find the motivation and self-control to continue with the optional learning so I don’t have trouble catching up once school resumes. And while I am normally predisposed to keeping to myself and actually am kind of the homebody myself, I miss the outside world a lot: my friends and our storytelling sessions peppered with boisterous laughter, the food both in the university cafeterias and the restaurants along Katip, even all the greenery that Ateneo is famous that makes it a delight to even just walk from one classroom to the next.

Outside of my home, though, people deal with bigger problems with a gravity that I can never fully comprehend.

I have friends who struggle to make homes out of houses: who are stuck in abusive situations, and thus can’t be granted the peace and rest needed in a crisis such as this because of the people they happen to share a roof with. I know people with mental illnesses, who thrive on routine and rely on the hustle and bustle of everyday life to distract themselves from the voices in their head, who are now forced to pay attention to thoughts they try to push away. I hear stories of those with loved ones who have pre-existing conditions, and are thus more vulnerable to COVID—and even others who grapple with the loss of someone dear to them, a mere week or so after diagnosis.

When classes were still required, some of my schoolmates would complain that they couldn’t get access to steady, quality Internet since they’ve fled Metro Manila and returned to their home provinces. The panic they face because of the state of the world is further compounded by the anxiety of not being able to submit requirements on time or attend livestreams, and thus fall behind in class.

I’d wake up to photo sets and news articles of workers forced to go out and expose themselves in the midst of this disaster, just so they can make a living and sustain the needs of their loved ones. Patients seeking all kinds of treatments having to walk to health centers because of the suspension of public transportation. Frontliners putting their lives at risk to nurse as many of our countrymen back to health. They seem to suffer the most in this period of social distancing, given the lack of available resources, and the ill-preparedness of the government in handling what is an admittedly unprecedented situation.

This is not a 10-step plan of action that addresses strained family relationships, national mental health policy, or the education system. Nor is this a dissection of all of the shortcomings of the administration thus far, because that is a discussion for another day that will ultimately end with a fervent plea that you register for the upcoming elections. I am not claiming I have all the answers—I don’t. I am feeling as clueless and helpless and sometimes, even as hopeless as everyone else during these times. What I’m trying to say is we should, at the very least, strive towards cultivating a culture of empathy and compassion, which can only be done by opening our eyes to the vast world that exists outside of our own, and the realities that are faced by its inhabitants that could be far from what we ourselves are going through.

I am privileged because the problems that affect me are a hassle at best, basically nothing in the grand scheme of things. With this comes the responsibility to make use of the resources available to me to educate myself about issues, and find out what substantial contributions I could possibly make to lessen the burden others may have to bear during these times. Maybe even simply insisting that not only my well-being, but those of others who have less at the moment, are taken into consideration in decision-making processes. If I can’t provide the materials or specialized knowledge they require, the very least I could do would be to amplify their voices so that it reaches someone who can give the assistance they need. Or if I know them personally and they would prefer to keep the things they are going through private, I would allot as much time and effort needed to make them feel someone is there for them at this time.

I know it’s much easier not to be involved in matters that don’t directly concern me: it would definitely save me a lot of distress and heartbreak if I remained unaware and thus unbothered by what others are going through. There are people who choose not to take a stand in political matters, or voice out their concerns, and some may even generally view them as more agreeable to be around. But, turning a blind eye to injustices because it’s just not my problem, or only ever looking at the way a situation affects me personally is not the way I intend to live—not when I am a daughter, a friend, an Atenean, the future of this country, who intends to put these titles bestowed upon her to good use.

Hope everybody is keeping safe. Stay indoors, if you can, and pray for those who can’t.