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I've been feeling numb lately - an emotion (or the lack thereof) not unfamiliar but never feels easy to swallow. Food has always been my religion, my opium, whether that is to numb emotions down or in this case, feel something. I was cooking my dinner earlier (that is more than a breakfast meal if anything - hashbrowns and scrambled eggs. How juvenile) and got splashed by hot oil as I was putting the frozen rectangles on the pan and didn't feel anything. Perhaps amusement. It occurred to me how ridiculously edgy that sounds, especially because I put on Fall Out Boy's entire From Under the Cork Tree album on play from my TV.

I never really did any growing up.

#rianecdotes

The craft beer place not too far from my city I had been eyeing this entire week was closed (or I arrived too early but their Facebook page and Google profile said otherwise). I went through hell and back just to get a good drink which I reaaaally needed this week (Captain, it's Tuesday). It was the only place I knew that served draft beer around Cavite that's not an hour drive away from me. I had already traveled two rides and felt like cutting corners for myself which I already knew was a bad idea brewing (ha, brewing). I walked back 2 kilometers to where I came from with my jeans that were always too long on me but never thought of getting tailored (cutting corners again) and given local governments' squandered funds, there were no pavements to walk on. I made it eventually - I always do. How am I going to share these minor inconveniences to the public if I don't?

I am this lady at the moment.

#rianecdotes

Cavite City and Escolta for today. I would've roamed around Cavite City more if it wasn't for the sweltering weather (when is it not?) and if I had planned places to go beforehand. My trip was spontaneous; I hopped on a jeep with one objective in mind and that was to capture artisans but I wasn't even able to accomplish that, lol. I alighted on their public market but I hadn't worked up the courage to snap yet so I just breezed through aisles. There weren't anything that piqued my interest either. I walked some more and encountered a church that was seemingly normal until I walked further and realized it didn't have a back...?

There were not much to see a couple of meters forward so I said fuck it and saw through the entire road. I ended up by the bay and the college campus I had considered before (I'm now realizing I made a wrong decision).

I went to a park nearby and saw some kids playing catch with a baseball and a glove and I had never seen Filipino kids do that before so I stayed for a bit. My biggest accomplishment was probably finding the bus terminal that goes to Parañaque instead of listening to my dad's instructions that are oftentimes unreliable. I walked about two kilometers under the heat and along the way I could feel the soles of my boots peeling off. The hamsa ring I recently bought from last Saturday's Hola Escolta brought me luck today. Thank you for not making me relive the trauma of my shoe soles melting and peeling off in public.

I got to admit - the trip was pretty pointless. Anything's better than doing nothing but tirelessly shifting left and right on my pillow at home anyway. For a first introduction to a place, it wasn't so bad. You can get around easily since it's a relatively small town. I'll be back soon with some kesong puti.

#balintataw #rianecdotes

on netflix's beef (2023)

On Netflix's Beef (2023), or in this case, chicken?

Around two years ago I wrote a little something about Santa Clarita Diet (2017), going beyond niceties, and eating mean people. Truth be told, I've been meaning to write about Beef ever since it came out—right after the gut-wrenching Mayonaise needle drop at the final episode—but I've put it on hold like many of my thoughts stuck in the Tumblr Drafts purgatory. Mainly because I wanted to tackle many things—too many things—the show touched on: repressed anger, generational trauma, and all of what makes up the perfect recipe for mental illness among Asians. It gets dirty (literally and figuratively) and breaks that respectability Asians are known for.

What the show addressed the best was the topic of shame. There was something special about its dark, slapstick portrayal of shame where the two main characters go through lengths just to sabotage the person that is essentially a projection of everything they hate about themselves with you, the frustrated viewer, watching them hellishly spiral into the most fucked up and shameful conditions to save face. Ironic, comedic—this show is the dry laughter that you get when you're so deep in shit that you can't do anything about it. The scene where Steven Yeun's character buys a bunch of hibachi grills in an attempt to take his own life embodies this the best, the one that made me think, "oh, this show fucking gets it."

I have recently made some realizations about shame and its role in my life. I have unearthed this draft from two years ago for this reason. I wasn't so unaware that I had zero idea about having self-esteem issues because if anything, that was the one thing I was sure of about myself. It's less about the fact that I couldn't recognize shame and more about how little I knew of just how much it governs me. In admitting shame was also shameful. There was a witch-like figure that appears in the show both as a manifestation of Ali Wong's character's shame and the one that surveils to mock and chastise her "shameful" acts at the same time. To me, shame is a black, treacly substance that seeps into every aspect of my life. With the fear of being watched and perceived possibly stemming from sexual trauma, compounded by unsupervised internet access, resulting in body dysmorphia, the fear of doing bad when you aren't even good, and the fear of doing good because people might start expecting more from you, you can make an entire Cards Against Humanity deck about my stupid chungus life. Beyond repair and unlovable, neither stepping closer to anyone in fear of them seeing a grotesque display of a body cracked all over the surface with black goo spilling out the crevices nor shaking anyone's hand in fear of the malign substance latching onto poor, poor individuals who dare get near.

There are quite a few shows about depression and loneliness but I can't think of anyone else to present this particular aspect of it better than an Asian director with an Asian cast. No one else hammers themselves down to be acceptable better than us. More than the fact that the '90s–'00s alternative rock soundtrack of the show was to indulge millennial audiences, Drive by Incubus is also kind of the perfect anthem in occupying the driver's seat instead of letting shame press the pedal. Road rage strongly not advised.

#rianecdotes #beef netflix

kiss me now that i'm older!

How does one even begin to describe the feeling of turning twenty-three in a place you grew up in and left at seventeen? A lot can happen in six years. I don't think I was even the same person last week. It's a surreal feeling—retracing steps and rediscovering my "hometown" that I didn't even consider as such until I left. For once, I felt comfortable in a place that used to make me so uneasy, so angry. Dubai being a place of relief is something that I would have never imagined. My teenage self wanted nothing but out. But like I've said, a lot can happen in six years. It was also my first time traveling long-distance in a while. I missed the airports, the plane rides, the whole thing. I was bound to see Dubai from rose-tinted glasses.

It felt exactly like the first time I had arrived as a five-year-old. My sister took me everywhere. I also celebrated my birthday with a cake. I don't remember the last birthday I had a cake. I felt like a kid. And I feel like I have to mention that I've had this write-up in my Drafts before my friend said the exact same thing while we were briefly discussing the topic of travel. I guess it really does bring back that childlike sense of wonder and excitement in people. In my case, distance most likely made my heart grow fonder.*

Anyway, you can tell this post remained stagnant in my Drafts for too long because it's losing direction. I definitely knew where I was going with this a few months ago. I went to Dubai last June. I started this draft around August. It's November. Knowing myself, it's probably the same existential clichés I think about during my birthdays. *Strike one. Then, some more clichéd thesis statements like: Where's my life headed? How do I overanalyze the significance of my birthday's setting? Nobody likes you when you're twenty-three.

Don't mistake this for me antagonizing myself. That's one thing I'm trying not to do at twenty-three onwards. I just lost my train of thought, is all. I can laugh at myself now, too. Above all, I really just want to quickly segue into showing you my gorgeous Tadanobu Asano cake.

#rianecdotes #tadanobu asano #my sister's bf was so amused by this #i didn't know what he's most known for so i said shogun whenever ppl asked where he's from #should i have said thor?#idk it was a small role in a forgettable thor film #thor catching a stray lol #balintataw

₊˚⊹⋆˙౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

I've been making my own matcha lattes since I saw stacks of cutely designed cartons of milk at my friend's favorite café (Oatside Milk, the bomb). Been purchasing them ever since and goodness, they're so damn hard to find. They're always out of stock in groceries. So, about my matcha—it's nothing too fancy—I don't even have a whisk or a bowl. The only step I follow closely is sifting the powder then the rest... well, I just hope for the best.

I've also tried weed for the first time which was veeewyy uneventful. It killed my throat the next day for some reason. "The Subway" by Chappell Roan came on while I was supposedly high and I thought holy shit this is the fucking song ever... the fucking song ever. My dad heard "Good Luck Babe" on the radio one time and he said Chappell reminded him of Enya. I keep thinking of that.

Sometimes I wonder how I'm able to do things on my own at the comfort of my home like making drinks and doing my own nails to cut costs but can't ever progress at learning guitar. They're obviously at different levels of difficulty but how do I have discipline to learn the former and not have any for the latter. How do I generate more brainpower is the question. I feel like I've been yawning all my life. I remember being so lethargic as a fourth grader; I would always stretch my body when I can. My classmate told me that her mom told her (there was always this type of girl in class) that only lazy people stretch that much. Was I lazy all my life? Jesus. I need to get checked.

#rianecdotes

You'll know you're in the deeper part of the Southern Tagalog area like Quezon Province when you start hearing radio stations that offer political commentary, often in criticism of the current governance and its shortcomings (that there's, well, an abundance of). It feels a lot like workers' banter, both the content and the way they deliver. Most people are under the assumption that the countryside is only composed of folks in support of right-leaning politics than its urban counterpart but it really shouldn't come as a surprise when impoverished agrarian communities are among the first to call out the government's toxicity.

They'd often play songs some of us refer to as "Sunday general cleaning music" in between talks, often a mix of '70s Filipino and American folk songs like Florante or Carpenters.

I wish I could remember that specific radio station I currently have in mind.

#rianecdotes #written in 2022

10/11/23

Pero seryoso, sobrang saya last Saturday. Everything went seamlessly during my commute. Thank the gods for the existence of the r/HowToGetTherePH subreddit, whose purpose is pretty self-explanatory (the internet isn't a cesspool of profit-hungry users and AI bots, after all). I often wonder how commuters in the Philippines used to fare back then under these hellish conditions without the use of internet, but it's essentially just the same principle of asking strangers for directions if you think about it???

From Imus, Cavite to Quezon City: I had a tricycle take me to the bus terminal, took a bus to the MRT, rode from Taft station to Araneta-Cubao, then walked to Cubao Expo for about 900 meters with a phone in hand, reading a step-by-step instruction how to get there written by a redditor (backbone of society, ika-nga). Then, I booked an Angkas to Mow's in Matalino.

'Di ba nga kasi ang motto ko, "wala akong pera, wala akong kasama, 'di 'ko alam ang papunta don, pero pupunta ako." So that's what I did. Charot. Sa mga ganitong sitwasyon lang malakas ang fighting spirit ko. 'pag may gala, laging may gana. Charot x2. Huy pero sa totoo lang, 'di naman ako basta-basta lumalarga nang walang plano. Sinisikap ko talaga munang pag-aralan 'yung ruta ko bago ako pumunta sa isang lugar, which honestly has been part of the fun for me (or have I successfully manipulated myself into thinking of the horrific Philippine public transportation system as a fun little challenge?).

This tweet pops into my head every time my friends ask me to go out with them 😭 As a non-NCR girlie, ganito talaga ang pagdadaanan mo kung gusto mo maka-gimik mga Metro Manila friends mo 😔 Sabi nila nung nakaraang taon, magkakaroon na raw ng extension ang MRT/LRT hanggang Cavite sa taong susunod na rin agad. But Filipino math means 1 year na ang nakalipas sa pangako = 'wag ka nang umasa.

Oh well, na-enjoy ko naman ang commute ko kahit palipat-lipat. I'm not romanticizing it or anything; alam ko naman pakiramdam ng mga taong nakikipagsapalaran mag-commute araw-araw. Masaya lang ako kasi tuwing umaalis ako (which is napakabihira), pakiramdam ko para akong ibon na nakalabas sa hawla.

Obligatory song insert: