The Movie Whisperer

When Charles Emile Reynaud woke up one day and said “Let’s make these strips of pictures move using my Praxinoscope” I remember hearing Dickson answering on the other end of the cupboard saying “I have a better idea, let’s make a projector but we need help from Edison” thus the birth of the Kinetoscope and the first trial movie called Monkeyshines. Years and years of getting used to the Kinetoscope, smarty pants Lumiere brothers patented Cinematographe, this baby can project movies to several spectators all at the same time and believe me when this baby was born The Great Train Robbery became even greater! But knowing us humans we still want more, even though going to the movie house back in the days of the Cinematographe was more of a status symbol than appreciation of the arts, the Señor and Señoras with their feathered cigars stuck up their buck-toothed mouths still wanted more! The Jazz Singer began singing in 1927, this was the first full length movie addressed as ‘talkies’ because basically in this movie the characters weren’t just moving for the sake of showing movement, they were actually talking! I know what you’re thinking, oh come one I know you are this close to hitting that tiny ‘X’ on the upper right hand of your browser because you’re thinking that I’m giving you a crash course on Film101, well I’m not, the reason why I had to tell the history of film because I got pissed, yah you got it right! I got pissed!

I went to Galleria to see Paranormal Activity part 2, as if the first movie did not suck enough so I thought I’d relive the old sucky feeling by wasting a couple of bucks over a movie which I can totally predict the ending on the first 10 minutes. So I went in, since this is a mockumentary, a documentary you will end up mocking after watching, people are not supposed to talk inside the movie house because this kind of film takes enormous amount of attention just so you can engage yourself to the very core of what this film is all about. When I stepped in, I said “oh okay at least they know how to watch a mockumentary, good job!” then I picked a seat and started ‘engaging’. Finally engaged, the film started to become interesting and I was slowly regretting why I watched it alone because it was not scary like can’t sleep scary… It was can’t-open-my-eyes-scary! Disclaimer: you have to see how the first one sucked to appreciate this one.

So yah I was finally engaged and was actually feeling the fear up the tip of my nipples, you heard it right, NIPPLES! Because it was very cold and I was wearing shorts and a tube top so my nipples could cut through glass at that time, enough about my nipples (I’ll just dedicate an entry about the little nubbins some other time), I was beginning to love the movie when I heard these two people sitting behind me narrating to each other, the first 3 exchanges were fine because with the twisting and turning of the camera I’d lose my focus if I was an average person, which I am not because I studied film, so yah it was okay at first it was like “baby you saw that, he was standing” then a little of “ya baby did you see the dog” and it went a bit like “oh my God baby there’s the door!”. So I told myself “it’s okay, that’s what true lovers do, they help each other understand a movie when one seem so limited and just can’t understand what’s beyond the surface of what’s being shown on the screen”, I was nail biting because of the cold when suddenly the girl began talking again and this time it’s just non-stop! Here goes:

“Whoa, the door closed by itself!”

“Shit! She got locked outside”

“Fuck!The baby is alone”

“Look at that the pans are moving”

She literally became the movie whisperer and God knows how much of my energy had gone to stopping myself from yelling at the poor, stupid movie whisperer! I know it’s a mean thing to say but come on! The days of the Cinematographe is over, we don’t need a commentator because our frontal lobe altogether with the other lobes are all working fine and we can process and totally understand whatever image or sound you are capable of perceiving!

It might seem shallow but if you look at it, this is how easily people around you would forget about the word respect. It sure is not harmful for someone to just start narrating inside a movie house, it will surely not affect the country’s economic growth nor the amount of money the movie will generate at the end of the day BUT BUT BUT having someone narrate everything while the movie is still running feels so infuriating for those who do not have the luxury of watching a movie every weekend, for those who are willing to buy time just so they can sit inside a real movie house and just forget about work, traffic and all the other crap they leave hanging by their coat hangers before going to the movies, long ranting cut-short– it is very infuriating for ME! Time is a luxury I don’t always have, it is something that I would trade my fallopian tube for if given a chance, having said that, all I want is to enjoy watching and just for an hour and a half just think about the big screen, the characters, worry about the ending and not worry about the big pile of laundry I left stinking under our staircase. I mean watching a movie may not be as important to the movie whisperer as it is to me but it does not give her enough reason to ruin that moment because not only I paid for it but I made time for it, also it is not only me who finds her annoying, I saw the guy sitting in front of me looking over his shoulder and just shaking his head out of disbelief that we actually have an audible subtitle inside the movie house. I’m beginning to sound selfish, I know but again this puts all of us under the microscope in search of the respect gene, it all begins at home I believe. My mom taught me not to interrupt when they’re watching TV unless it’s very important, my mom taught me not to butt in if adults are talking and while watching Okay ka fairy ko the movie at Ever gotesco she surely taught me how not to talk inside the movie house, I can still remember the lesson she taught me right after: “Anak, you are not supposed to talk or throw things against the screen while watching a movie, why? Because security will not let you finish the movie, did we finish the movie? NO! So #%^&(*@%^%$ you know now!!! Okay anak?!” Yah, we got kicked out of the movie house because I went frantic inside so from that day onwards I realized the value of respecting others inside the movie house and not just the movie house per se, even during train and bus rides, libraries and restaurants. Going back to the movie whisperer, I hated her, she really pissed me off because she took the very essence of that hour and a half movie time from me, she stole my sweet little escape, she defeated my purpose of going to the movie house, she invaded my pseudo world where laundry does not exist!

So next time, when you encounter a movie whisperer – let it go, do not go movienazzi inside the movie house, because if you go guns blazing against that person and yell while the movie is running at the background, it does not make you any different from a movie whisperer because you’ll be invading the peace and quiet the other watchers paid a hundred and seventy bucks for!

Movie whisperers are misunderstood beings, let’s not steal their moments from them, enough movie moments have been stolen by them already, let them do the stealing because when they meet their own kind, it takes one to bring down one!

 

 

Putting the ‘BE’ in Beauty

When I was a kid I thought all that matters is beauty, whenever my mom would tie my hair up in a bunch or pigtails or just let my curly locks down I always felt beautiful and she would always tell me that I am a very beautiful girl, whenever I kiss my dad goodbye before going to school he would always tell me that my smile reminds him of the sun rising in Vietnam – yah my dad is big with words, and he’s obsessed with the sun rising in Vietnam. Growing up, my body started to change, I started gaining weight and whenever I lose some it always finds me and it even comes with little extras called cellulites and that was in high school where face and body mattered a lot! It was hard seeing my classmates growing up without a trace of acne, awesome figure and just so pretty H to T (head to toe) when I’m sitting across the cafeteria eating my way out of depression because all I know is I’m fat, ugly and dirty looking. Years have passed and college gave me a bit of mercy, I lost the pimples and grew bigger boobs, got myself braces which made my smile even bigger than the Vietnam sunrise, managed to grow taller – 5 foot 7 to be exact, but the weight… It just won’t leave me alone, I weighed a whopping 180lbs. in college and it wasn’t fun because I was friends with such tiny, cute people and whenever we go to the mall or just hang out at Starbucks I always stand out, not as the prettiest one but more like an ogre! This was me in college.

 

weight keeps finding me

Dating was like going to Jerusalem for me back in those days because nobody wants to date an ogre, nobody would want to date someone that will literally crush you with her thumb, plain and simple nobody wanted to date me but I did get lucky though and landed with someone who’s awfully shorter than me but it was fun, yah just fun… nothing so special, because I was so desperate that I will settle for anybody who pays me attention which I know for a fact is very unhealthy. Going forward, I graduated college and broken up with that person and started working, I gained more weight and when I say more it was 30lbs. more so from 180lbs. I was like 210lbs. and it’s something I knew was serious, I was having difficulties breathing, walking, LIVING! This was the 210lbs. version of me.

 

 

at 210lbs.

 

So I started changing my lifestyle, I kissed eating meat goodbye and stared working out but it just takes so long to achieve my dream weight so I went down Chinatown and got myself some slimming pills which rapidly took my weight down in 5 months, from 210lbs. I went 150 and from 150 I went 135. I started feeling good about myself, I began walking with confidence from H to T knowing that I am no longer that sad, shy, fat and ugly person that I used to be. Here’s the difference.

 

before and after

 

But I did notice something, the weight loss and the confidence changed me as a person, I became less bubbly and more snobbish, I became less compassionate and became more arrogant, the beauty that I have wanted for so many years came with a lil something called attitude and I hated it! I know my friends noticed it too but they’re so afraid to hurt me because they know I am a very vulnerable fellow who cries over a dead rat. I felt bad, really bad and I reacted so bad by driving myself further down the weight loss road, I started to develop an eating disorder in which I binge and purge every God given day. I was eating less and barfing more, from 130lbs something I went down to 115lbs and I started feeling nauseous everyday even though I’m not trying to purge, I can smell puke coming out of my skin and even my hair smelled like puke, I was like a walking vomit… apologies to those who are eating right now. It was so bad that I had scars along my knuckles.

scars from teeth marks due to excessive purging

These scars would always remind me not to go down that road again, going back, I started to seek help from doctors and I enrolled myself in a 6-month program for healthier eating and well being. It was tough trying to gain weight and at the same time psychologically fighting against it because whenever I put something in my mouth I feel like uh-oh I’m getting fat again. I must say, the program was like a miracle, it worked and I’m far happier than I was before and up to this date I am just maintaining the body type I was told I should have. I know, I know you must be saying what’s with the title when all I’ve been blabbing about is my struggle with how I looked and weighed… here it goes, as I change from someone whose existence was pretty much close to zero to someone who thinks of herself as a fine damn perfect 10, I realized that I was becoming the ‘noun’ beauty, what is a noun beauty? Noun beauty defines a person who is just beautiful, when you see that person the first thing that comes to mind is ‘beauty’ but they just don’t know what to do with it, they rely on being so beautiful that they think all the beauty can cover up the ugly in terms of attitude, noun beauties believe that their beauty is an excuse for them to be arrogant, self-consumed and even stupid! I was a noun beauty for quite some time and I did not like it, so I thought I should be a verb beauty. Verb beauty defines a person who knows he/she is beautiful in anyway he/she was made to, verb beauties do not care about what other people say, like they don’t care if someone will say ‘awww you have a poor sense of fashion’, ‘awww you’re fat’ – they don’t give a flying frog about it. Verb beauties do not just stand and say “hey I’m pretty, adore me”, they embody all there is that is beautiful inside out. Verb beauties believe that everyone is beautiful with the uniqueness they possess, with or without fat, with or without cellulites, even with a hint of morning breath, verb beauties put the BE in beauty – simply put, despite being cosmetically challenged, verb beauties stand out by making beautiful things. Frankly, right now, I still don’t have the perfect figure, the perfect set of teeth, I’m still a braces-wearing, eye-glasses sporting girl but I don’t care because I know I am no longer that arrogant, self-consumed person who binges and purges everyday just so society would accept me. Now I know how to put the BE in beauty without hurting myself and/or others. This is how I look now, this is my wordpressing look.

my blogging face, glasses and still with braces

It is true that society dictates what is beautiful, what is worth looking at but at the end of the day, the beauty that is in the wonders of airbrushing fades and all that’s left is a real person and I think nothing’s more beautiful than just being real.

Be the verb that defines beauty rather than just a noun.

Myth: Liquid courage and Liquid amnesia

April 30, 2010 – one night I got drunk and I thought hmmm I think I am wonder woman and I can like seize the day and just fly through the night because I’m feeling the vibe and nothing seems to be wrong except for my poor depth perception and my night-long slurring. I went home, got into bed with someone, woke up feeling oddly different and looked around, picked up my clothes, yes grow up reader waking up after a drunken night and having to pick up some clothes in the morning means that we did not sleep our drunken ass off, need I say more? Then it struck me that my liquid courage just faded and all that’s left is me with my shaky knees, tramp stamps all over my neck and a naked guy beside me whose butt prints are all over my sheets. I know what you’re about to ask, what the hell was I thinking and can I recall what happened the night before? Oh yes I do! I have a full recollection of everything that took place that one drunken night. You see folks, the title of this entry says it all, yah I believe liquid courage and liquid amnesia are just myths we seemed to have grown up to. I remember watching movies when I was a kid where I see people get drunk and waking up the next morning not knowing what happened, that’s just untrue, I downed half the world’s beer consumption that night and I was even able to send a bunch of drunk SMS to some of my friends so frankly my dear readers it’s just a matter of not being able to control whatever it is that you cannot do in a sober state of mind and you do remember those stupid things but YOU CHOOSE TO FORGET BECAUSE IT WAS SO DAMN STUPID! Motivated forgetting – that’s what it is! Let’s break it down this way:

Liquid courage

The fake kind of courage you get every time you exceed your alcohol limit, it’s not exactly courage, like I mentioned earlier it’s just losing control. Yes, it is hard to control the next thing that’s going to come out of your mouth let alone the things you can DO. Personally, one of the reasons why I drink is for me to get this fake courage, I like drunk Lori, I like the drunken version of me because I feel like it’s the only time I look beyond logic and just liberate myself from being righteous. Now I’m not going to be a hypocrite and tell you that it is a good thing to liberate oneself from righteousness, of course it is a form of liberation that is deviant in our society but I seriously don’t care but I wouldn’t call it courage, because I think it’s just us feeling the need to be stupid sometimes and forget all about the facts and look beyond what is black and white and notice the odd things in the gray area – liquid courage is not courage at all, it’s that natural high that we need once in a while.

Liquid amnesia

I love picking on this myth, I am seriously at my wit’s end trying to think how come people keeps saying “I just can’t remember what happened last night, I was so hammered… drunk… blah blah” – because it’s just so crappy, it’s the lamest excuse my ears ever heard of! Tell you what, I got drunk on bottles of vodka, beer and whiskey but I fully recall every bit of stupidity I did that night but I choose to deny and pretend that I can’t remember so the people who saw me act so stupid that night would say “ah it’s okay, she’s drunk yada yada yada” – LAME EXCUSE!!! Being drunk does not give you amnesia, it gives you the choice of owning your stupid courageous acts while under the spell of Señor Cuervo whose terms and conditions you whole-heartedly accepted right before you take on that shot OR you can make a note on a post it and stick it on your forehead saying “I was so hammered I can’t remember a thing, please leave a note of last night’s event”. If you’re going to ask me if I remember every single time I got drunk, yes I do, I remember crying about having to lose my job because I’m drunk, I remember talking to my car’s wheels, I remember angry texting the guys I dated, I remember every lousy sex I’ve had, I remember walking without my slippers, I remember knocking on my own pad’s door when my housemate has the keys, I remember dancing with strangers, I remember every freaking thing. Don’t be afraid, come on, ask, ask me why… Why do I keep doing these things when I know it’s just downright stupid – in connection with liquid courage (which is not courage at all) I can’t control it, I can’t stop it and let me tell you a secret… I love it!

Reminiscing April 30, 2010 is exactly a headache for me but I realized that no amount of coffee and aspirin can help you get rid of your hangover – acceptance will.

Kampay!

Nadezhda Iskra – a thank you entry

You might be wondering what my first entry’s title is all about, if the name Nadezhda Iskra rings a bell (or even your balls) I think you are a smart reader – remember in my profile I mentioned that I was inspired by this sex blog that I have been following well, Miss Iskra is the author of that sex blog, best blog I’ve ever read I must say. Why did I name my pilot entry after her? I actually haven’t met this wonderful woman but we have exchanged numerous of messages via Facebook already and though I do not know her in a very very personal level I know for a fact that she’s one of those people who openly admits that they are flawed and is never ashamed to tell the world about it. I admire her sense of being ‘human’, reading her blogs gave me this new found-respect for the human errors, the human mind and of course the human body. The word inspiration is an understatement every time I begin to think how she was able to resuscitate the dying writer who is now seated in a tiny coffee shop waiting for her writing to be butchered by her future readers. Niki’s (her nickname)  materials taught me that the world doesn’t want to read about the obvious, about things we can easily google or watch in the tube, the world craves for the rawness of its wanderers, what each breath could possibly mean,the difference a single glance can make, what eye-rolling is all about, why we take the time putting someone under a microscope ad carefully dissect the model make of a human being — the world wants to read about you, me and how it feels to be you and to be me… well not exactly the entire world but to its wanderers who finds comfort in knowing that nautical miles away from them there is someone who goes through the same tunnel he/she goes through.

I dedicate this blog to those who finds knowledge from the mishaps and triumph of others, to those who become more resilient as they read about reality, to the real people of my generation.

This entry is for Nadezhda Iskra – thank you.