major moments

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I did not imagine it, I swear. I thought it was just an office fad, honestly. After all, it isn't even all that catchy.

But it happened.

Last night, on my bus, several people were annoyed by the bus still picking up passengers, because, they all wanted to go home. (Is it not amazing that we can be so hospitable to people we don't know, yet be so inconsiderate of the people along our daily route? It saddens me when people act like this. The bus driver was just trying to earn a living, why couldn't they have just let it go? But I digress.) Some were jeering, others were tapping the walls of the bus in annoyance, and some were calling out mean insults.

One insult stuck in my mind, and I quote:

"Tama na yan mama, major major ka!"

When I heard that, I was all, omygosh. Did someone really just use major major? As an expression? My head reeled, because I honestly thought it was just an office thing. (See, my officemates and I now keep saying 'in a major way'. It's the new 'like a pyramid' only, it makes sense.)

But now, the words
major major
are everywhere: the media keep using it, people on the streets, my

Venus Raj's answer to her Ms. Universe Final Question is now an expression.

Honestly, when I first heard her question, I thought, she can totally win this. The other questions struck me as too technical, but her question was personal: she could really show herself in her answer. Then she answered, and, boink.

But having had some time to think about it, I realize that, really, it's all about the pressure: some of us flail and forget things we've known for life under it, some succumb to criticism in saddening ways, and there are just some people who are incredible morons. (For the record, I really think those college students and policemen ARE IDIOTS. You people have no sense. At all.)

You have to wonder at the kind of pressure she was under, and now, I have come to the conclusion that unless you are one those women who have to answer to a country, you have no right to judge. (This whole answering to a country thing has made me think: is there a PTSD thing attached to this? Like, perhaps, after becoming part of Ms. Universe, do you now look over your shoulder every time someone calls your country? What an interesting study that would be.)

And for the most part, Ms. Raj has handled the Ms. Universe experience and everything that goes with it, quite well, even taking home fourth place. (This also takes us on another tangent: considering the reactions people are having to her Ms. Universe finish, this means that the Filipinos's sense of sayang supersedes their sense of entitlement, that is the luto mentality. After all, usually after international anything, we go crazy when we lose. Now, we go crazy cause of something real.)

Honestly, I am actually in awe of her answer. It takes major (no pun intended) guts to say what she did. After all, most people would expect a motherhood statement as an answer. But she was honest enough, and confident enough, to say that she didn't see herself as someone who has made any major mistakes. (And just to point it out, just because she said she hasn't made any major mistakes, doesn't mean that she said she hasn't made any.) Even more, she is standing by her answer.

I'm glad she isn't the typical beauty queen.

In this country, we all need reality checks.

it doesn't seem fair.

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By now, everyone who has at least one form of media their home has seen or heard about it.

It's on basically every site that hasn't locked on the Ms. Universe thing yet, it seems.

They even gave it a name.

Mayhem in Manila.

I was at work for most of the crisis, so I didn't really see anything about it until I got home. My mother was almost beside herself with the whole drama. Being me, I thought it was just one of those random things people do to get attention, in the same way others take hotels and climb billboards. (Welcome to the Philippines, the country of dramatic gestures!) I dismissed the whole thing at first, because I had work to finish.

But then, as most of the back story came out, I became interested. I may be getting ahead of myself, but this seems to be an oddly real pattern in the armed members of our society. From Oakwood, the Pen incident, to other small-scale violent incidents, it seems the police and the army have one mantra: listen to us, we have guns.

That is the knee-jerk reaction, my knee and jerk.

Personally, I do agree with the Hong Kong authorities: everything was mishandled. I may be biased (I actually feel bad for Rolando Mendoza, given what it took for him to take this action) but well, shouldn't there have been a much more delicate way to handle everything, than what they did?

I don't understand why they felt the need to suddenly accuse several of his family members of being accessories to the crime. Even more, why did they have to do it, aware of all the cameras and media people around them? Sure, they did the media to stop their live feeds, but come on. When will anyone learn that the media--Philippine media, in particular--are incredibly pushy?

And even without the live feed, why would they even arrest his brother? On suspicion alone? Police reasoning that the brother was an accessory because he was at the scene of the crime clearly need to strain their brains just a teeny bit more.
Why didn't they just remove his weapons, and have him become a negotiator? The whole move was stupid, illogical, and idiotic. (I need to say this, because I can't get over how stupid they were. I'm no negotiator, but I know enough to understand that I should never agitate an armed, desperate man.)

Even more disturbing is what this implies about us as a society, as a nation. What kind of a society are we in, that it forces some of us into such drastic action?

Then there is the media. Though I found the commentary riveting (and at times, funny: honestly, if they had wanted to arrest accessories, they should have tried to seize the media people who were narrating every single detail of the "police operation" to the world), I think that the media should have eased off a little. There are some things you simply don't report. Saving lives is more important than any scoop.

Here is someone who, from recent history was an upright citizen. A decorated officer, a quiet man who liked to read, someone who liked to gather his/her family members once a month to talk to them. An incident involving his junior staff led to his dismissal from the force. I'm still hazy on everything, but well.

It is clear what he wanted. He wanted to be heard. And in a twisted way, I suppose he was.

And as we deal with the fall out from this, maybe it's time to stop reflecting and start doing.

**knee jerk, not thought out, rambly thing. I just feel bad for everyone involved. Sigh.

25 for Mae-sama and Lian-sama

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I do not know why I'm doing this. Actually, I do. It's because I respect these people. (Plus, they can soooo kick my ass, even virtually.) And I miss them, so no choice.

Let's get it on!

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you.

At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you. (To do this, go to "notes" under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click publish.

1. Obviously, I am breaking the rules. But, well, I don't know who to tag, and I also am not sure how tagging really works. So sorry!

2. My facebook account was made by friends of mine. They forced me into it, insisting that Multiply and Friendster were done and done. I still like Multiply better, though.

3. I secretly (not anymore?) hope for my life to become a musical. Like, I imagine that, one day, my mom will be waking me up through song. And in the streets, people will be dancing! TOGETHER!

4. I want to travel the world. My dream is to live each year of my life in a different place, taking on an odd job, learning the people, the culture, their world.

5. Hindi pa ako nakaka-pasok sa Planetarium. At matagal ko nang pangarap yun.

6. I can survive eating fuji apples for my entire life. :)

7. My favorite activity is reading. I think I might die if I couldn't read. Sometimes, if I have to soak my hair in conditioner for a long time, I read shampoo labels, because I can't not read.

8. I am a fan of Sarah Geronimo and John Lloyd Cruz!!!

9. May coloring books pa rin ako hanggang ngayon. Spongebob, fairies, Winnie the Pooh. Sila ang nakakatulong na mabawasan ako ng stress.

10. Pakialamera ako. Mahilig ako magbigay ng unsolicited, unwanted advice and help. It's a sickness, aghhh.

11. I'm interested in everything. Whenever I hear about something new that I think is interesting, I have to look it up, or read up on it, or ask someone about it.

12. I know people think it's weird. Several friends of mine have told me to stop doing it, but whenever I go past a Mcdo statue, I have to high-five it. It's an oddly disturbing quirk.

13. Whenever I see a new food place, I have to immediately check if they have carrot cake. And then try it.

14. I always feel that I have to apologize to people when they have a hard time. Even if it's not my fault, I kind of think it is.

15. I think it's shallow, but I always seem to base my first impression of someone on three things: their musical taste, how they text, and what they wear.

16. I am always on the look out for Korean or Japanese dramas that aren't really dramas. I rather adored Full House, and I miss the feeling it gave me.

17. Nung bata pa ako, kumakanta ako para sa piso.

18. I will do all that I can to make my dreams come true. :)

19. I abhor Kris Aquino and Willie Revillame's need for attention. I simply think that there are some things that should be kept private. I don't understand why they even get air time.

20. I am a JGL, NPH and Michael Cera fangirl.

21. Sometimes, when I see real-life Carls and Ellies (the couple from Up!), I feel sorry for myself and really want a boyfriend.

22. I pretend (and trick people into) organization by showing my planner, my post-its, and my colored pens. I firmly believe that these are tools necessary for anyone's life, and do not make me OC.

23. If I was a song, I would be Lenka's The Show. Because most days, that's how I feel.

24. I incredibly MISS Mae Ann Acha and Lian Martecio. (Minsan, pati pagkain sa cart namimiss ko dahil miss ko kayo.) And I hope they know that.

25. I wish for nothing more than an end to apathy, in everyone.

Sigh. It is incredibly hard to think of 25 random things about me. Haha.


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you make me wonder if it is true what they say,

about spinsters.

is it true, that beneath the smiles of a woman alone,

are the tears for the lover, never shed?

that beneath the calm advice from her,

are the words for him, never uttered?

is it really, truly, true, that inside the heart of a spinster,

are the stories of the greatest love, never told?

*Restauro, 2010:2:16am*

*I do rather feel like a spinster at times, but today, it seems to hit home. Hmmm.
I think I remember this from Anne of Green Gables, in one of the later stories, and I just took it from one single quibble.
Poetry, I apologize.
I guess I could be a spinster. I' need the great love part to come true, first.


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Sigh. I have committed a lot of idiotic things this weekend, and I only have Christopher Nolan to blame.

So thank you, Chris Nolan, for the most ultimate JGL high, ever. As well as for the excellently beautiful movie.

I don't really want to make a review, precisely because, I'll just be saying, in a slightly less awesome way than this guy that what I really enjoyed about Inception was that it made me think. Even more awesome, everyone who watched it, even the ones who hated it, still thought about it. An officemate and I spent most of our chatting time talking about the ending, and the dream levels. Most of my friends who saw it are still talking about it. It is just that interesting.

And if anyone has any doubts about the power of Inception, it has fanfiction now. Granted, most of it is JGL fanfiction. But really! Who wouldn't want to make fanfiction based on this adorable, adorable guy here? (Note: Please, only look at the photos of JGL as a baby. The rest of the article is a repost. A collection of reposts.)

And to be fair, it's Chris Nolan. All of his movies that I've seen, they have made me think. (And, at the risk of getting hated, I actually thought more about Memento than I have about Inception. Because that movie, was just that awesome.)

I think this film lends support for my theory that movies who spend a long time in pre-prod are simply, better. (Inception is several years in the making; Nolan wanted to build his fan base first before embarking on it, because he knew it needed a big enough budget, to, you know, shatter mirrors, and create rifts in people's heads.)

A few disclaimers: I didn't watch the movie because of the story. I am sorry, I know it is extremely shallow, but I watched the movie, because of two things: JGL, and the chance to see Ellen Page in a different movie from Juno. Do I really need to explain why I watched it for JGL? (I've been a fangirl since 3rd Rock.) You only have to stare at the man, I watched GI Joe (eww.) because he was in it! I fell for Ellen Page in Juno, but I didn't see that roller skate thing with Drew Barrymore, so I wanted to see how she would be in a different movie.
I only realized Cillian Murphy was also in it, because, well, he was credited. (btw, does anyone else notice that Cillian Murphy is damn comfy in plane movies?)

We're not going to be getting into the many levels of dreaming; you can shuttle scuttle those thoughts to these magnificent people here.

So lemme see. Oh, yeah, I have never been good at that, so most possibly, spoilers.

Visually? Stunning, absolutely stunning, especially when I know now, that having read most (well, all) of it was Chris Nolan shooting (he didn't hire a second unit!). My favorite sequences were the crumbling Limbo, that whole turning Paris on its head (without showing the Eiffel tower, thank you for avoiding that cliche, thank you!), and, ofcourse, all of JGL's stunts. (Which, he totally did on his own, 99% of them!) I also just have to commend those outfits. When I think sartorial perfection, I see JGL in Inception. Sigh.

The story, was, well, okay. Confusing, at best. You have to follow really closely, to make sure where you were. This is not the kind of movie you slip out of to buy popcorn. I have always had an objection to anything that says instead of shows, and Inception mostly...says. And it would have been alright, if it was like Before Sunrise, where the actors are always the forefront. In Inception, the scenery isn't exactly boring: its hard to pay attention to dream levels when you can watch people shooting randomly.

Still, they had a great cast of people to narrate: it was an immense pleasure to watch Leo struggling, Ariadne's awkward disbelief (Ellen Page still has a lot of growing up to do, but her role here didn't really leave much for her to do, so I still love her. Also, that expression after JGL kisses her? Priceless.), Arthur being Arthur, Eames and his accent, Yusuf's driving/praying/breathing thing (I think I was mimicking him, honestly: they totally needed his kick!), Cillian Murphy is great, (though they deprive you of his eyes because of that bag) and Ken Watanabe, because. man, Ken Watanabe is beautiful, however you look at him.

As to the ending, well, if it wasn't Christopher Nolan, I would really think it was a set up for another movie. But though that would be immensely interesting, I am quite satisfied with this one. This is one big budget film that was truly worth it.

The theory some reviews have been saying is something I agree with: Inception is Nolan's take on the experience of film itself. The dream is how you experience a film, all the imagination, the disbelief you suspend because you know, it is a movie. More, in this movie, we're being asked to take part. We're allowed to ask questions, to not suspend that disbelief. It's a movie that actually respects us enough to allow us to come to our own conclusions.

And to me, in the end, it doesn't matter whether Cobb is dreaming or awake. What matters is the fact that he walked away. He let his totem spin, but didn't check if it would stop. He left, to go to his children. Because to him, this was his leap of faith.

Even if it was wrong, even if (although I honestly believe he woke up) he was still dreaming, because:

"These dreams are their reality. Who are we to say otherwise?" (Yusuf's co-worker, Inception)

the gray between

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This article was in yesterday's PDI. i just have to share it with everyone, because it saddens me, to be living in a country where the right of the few always, always seems to matter more.
I sincerely hope that in sharing this with you, there will be more enlightenment, more understanding, that sometimes, life is not black and white. Always, there are shades of gray, shades of explanations that we would never understand, unless we put ourselves in the shoes of these people.

And sometimes, even that is not enough.

Method To Madness
By Patricia Evangelista
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 23:36:00 08/07/2010

Filed Under: Crime, Women, Abortion
Most Read

THE CRIMINAL was a woman. They are always women.

On paper, the sentence is imprisonment, up to six years. In the dank back rooms of Manila slums, and in the emergency wards of public hospitals, the sentence can be death. In 2008, at least 500,000 women resorted to abortion. Ninety thousand suffered complications. A thousand died.

In the Republic of the Philippines abortion is illegal. There are no exceptions under the law. It does not matter if the woman’s life is at stake on an operating table in the Fabella General Hospital. It does not matter if the pregnancy is the result of rape or incest, if the expectant mother is a 9-year-old girl in the slums of Tondo, if the fetus is expected to die within the womb and the woman with it.

That the penalty of abortion is often death is not a secret from these women. They know this. They’ve seen it happen. Women who risk death are not concerned with the legality of their actions, they are willing to push the twisted end of a plastic hanger into their uteruses; they believe they have no other choice. They may be afraid of God or death or the arm of the law, but they will carry on. The criminal penalty meant to stop abortion has not stopped millions of women; it has only stopped them from seeking help when they are bleeding into the cheap wood floors of their makeshift homes. Criminalization has pushed them into the streets of Quiapo, outside the Church of the Black Nazarene, where the voices of priests echo in prayer and tablets of Cytotec are sold six for a thousand alongside plaster statues of the Virgin Mary.

Her name is Maricel, she was 18 and already a mother. That year she was granted a visa to work as a domestic worker overseas. And then she discovered she was pregnant. She induced her own abortion for fear of losing her chance to support her family. She failed, and went to a woman who inserted catheters into her uterus. It took two weeks of infection and vaginal bleeding for Maricel to decide to go to the hospital “because she was scared.” Her story ended on the operating table. The doctors said she died of septic shock.

The Republic of the Philippines is one of the last countries in the world that continue to call every instance of termination of pregnancy a criminal act, and because it is, every woman who commits abortion commits it on her own. The Philippines has one of the highest numbers of maternal deaths in the West Pacific Region, 230 dying out of 100,000 live births, as opposed to the regional average of 82. Unsafe abortion is responsible for up to 20 percent of these deaths.

Her name is Josie, 26. She went to an abortionist, pressed down on her abdomen and thrust a fat hose up her vagina. She was in the clinic a long time. She bled. Some of the blood stank. There was blood on the bedpan, on the sheets, gushing in chunks. The blood was very red. At home, she bled for more than a week. In chunks, in gushes. She thought she would die.

Those who condemn these women point to their culpability. Whores and sluts, murderers, should have kept their legs closed if they didn’t want a child. Should have abstained. Should have been good, responsible women, should be good mothers, should take responsibility. That most of these criminal women are Catholic, married, uneducated and desperately poor does not matter to many of their critics from Church and laity. Opponents of the Reproductive Health Bill say they oppose the provision of free contraception because to permit it may lead to permitting abortion and in one stroke denied thousands of women freedom from abortion.

This is Ana from Manila, mother of eight, who induced an abortion after her ninth child. She said she could not use family planning, because it was unavailable. A Guttmacher study says that in Manila, where an executive order was issued banning contraception in public health centers, the incidence of abortion is higher than in any other part of the country. A national government that makes contraception impossible for 90 percent of the population has no right to echo an impossible morality. They call these women criminals—the same government whose buckling under the Catholic lobby in the issue of reproductive health has forced millions of women to face the option of abortion.

This is Aileen, a mother of five, three of whom were still babies. She risked an unsafe abortion when she found out she was pregnant with her sixth.

“Only those who are better off, rich, can talk about abortion as illegal. They have no worries about raising their children... They do not know what it is like to be poor and desperate… Poor women have limited options… Everything I did was for my living children.”

This is the sort of woman they call a bad mother, a criminal who deserves to bleed to death in the corners of hospital rooms. The stigma of abortion coming from its criminalization means that when women who suffer after unsafe abortions find the courage to go to a hospital, medical staff believe they have the right to discriminate against such women. There is no such thing as patient confidentiality; there is no such thing as priority for those who are dying in gushes. The Jason Ivlers of the world can get their confidentiality and medical care after a shootout with the police, but in this country, the bleeding woman is the exception to the Hippocratic Oath.

This is Imelda, 30 years old. She was bleeding when she arrived in the Fabella Hospital. The doctors shouted at her. They said they would call the police. They said they would not allow her to leave the hospital if they discovered she had an abortion. She was allowed to bleed without care for four hours, and was interrogated by nine different health workers while she bled.

This is Lisa, and in Gat Andres Bonifacio Memorial Medical Center, they told her she would be arrested if they proved she had aborted. They made her sign a document in English, a language she could not understand on paper. A nurse put a notebook-size sign at the bottom of her bed with the word “abortion.” There was no chart with her name, only that one word.

This is Gina, and when the staff of Tondo General discovered she had aborted, she was left alone. Her back was soaked in blood. She wished someone would give her a napkin, a diaper, anything. Nobody did.

This is written in support of the decriminalization of abortion, in the hope that safe abortion will be offered for women in cases of rape and incest and risk to life, that women will no longer be ignored in emergency rooms because of who they are, that contraception will be provided so that no woman will be forced to see abortion as a choice, and that the thousands who choose the risk of back alleys and coat hangers will be called victims instead of criminals.

Call it by its name: abortion. In this country, every woman who chooses abortion is a criminal, and the sentence is often death and pain. One thousand women died bleeding in 2008, nobody was held accountable, because for some, these women deserved to die. The state holds them down; the Church watches them bleed. The criminals are not always women. The crimes are not always theirs.

They pray, these women. They believe in God, and some of them believe that God is forgiving. Today, at least three women will die, because they have no reason to have the same faith in their fellow men as they do in God.

(Much of the research for this piece comes from “Forsaken Lives,” a study by the Center for Reproductive Rights, and from studies by the Guttmacher Institute. Email to

The original article can be viewed here.

JGL, can you please be my totem?

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"What is the most dangerous thing? An idea." (loosely taken from Inception, haha)


Finally, after being the odd loser who didn't, I just saw it!!!


I may or I may not post anything review-ish about it.

I enjoyed myself very much.

Because of Joseph Gordon-Levitt. He is so awesome, awesome, awesome.

I honestly don't understand why there are people who feel the need to talk about getting or not getting Inception, when they could have just enjoyed staring at THIS. (above)

Who needs to get anything when you can just enjoy JGL's fight scenes and mopey, goofy face in the van?

Joseph Gordon-Levitt, please be my totem.

You know you want to.

Photo credits: Picture taken from this site.

battling the Familiar and the Not.

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Today was an exciting day for me, because, I got to go to school! (I love my job; I get to visit places I miss for work. Awesome.) A new project for NCP needed a little CRes boost, so I managed to enlist the help of a former prof of mine.

At first glance, the most major change to CMC is the entrance. They decided to fully close the annex entrance, and use the real entrance again. I was a little miffed, but it faded because the guards waved me through with no ID demands. (I still belong!)

Inside, it was the same as ever. Students everywhere, noise, movement--that unmistakable combination of color and sound so uniquely CMC. Since the last time I was here was when I graduated, I felt it was an aww,tear moment for me. Thankfully, the shrieking of my name of several CRS stopped my emo posturing.

It also made me realize it was nearing 5, and this meant I was late to meet Ate V. Eek. I made my hellos, then rushed to the Department.

Now, here, is where nothing truly changes, and yet nothing is ever the same. Still stacks of papers, and books, and food everywhere. The best example was sitting in the desk nearest the door, clad in a yellow blouse.

Ate V greeted me in her bouncy manner and I squealed and disgraced myself by hugging her. I also managed to convince A to disgrace herself when I poked my head into Sir J's room, because she fully squealed and hugged me. Sir also hugged me and demanded stories.

I excused myself to deal with the work stuff first, though. It took a few minutes to locate the needed papers. I also needed to arrange library services.

Finally, I was all done. It was going to be a short visit, because I had plans to Incept in a bit with a friend.

Unfortunately, I was held hostage by the Dept, and spent the time catching up and telling stories. I was also complimented by a prof of mine for looking very put together. Haha. I would have been insulted, but it only meant that my fall back career plan was working, so I let it go.

I ended my visit with a stop at the CRS people, and a photo (thanks, Ivy!), because, well, I'm a camwhore? haha. Plus it's the new (old) entrance!

A day like this should not end without a Chokiss visit, so I had to stop by for carrot cake. I also met up with Brother Dearest, and had a fun visit, seeing him with friends. (I can't believe my brother, who says smiling is a stupid activity, now has friends! It's so awesome!)

Ofcourse, a happy day will not be complete without some slight marring. My Inception plans didn't pan out, so I still haven't seen Ellen Paige mature. Sigh. Still this weekend is still here! I'll go then!

I headed for home.

Perhaps it was my fault. (Oh, fine, it was my fault.)

But a few directions from a friend had convinced me that I should try the Buendia route to getting home. All that got me was wet, disgruntled, and defeated. I was up against the rain! (Rain that appeared out of nowhere, too. It was extremely hot in school. Hmp.)

I was up against this: (blurry because of the rain, not my camera non-skills)

Thankfully, I managed to get myself to a bus, my cake still safe, myself a little wet, but smiley and goofy. It was nice seeing everyone and everything again.

I keep missing college and all the happiness it gave me, wondering if I'll ever have it again. Not even the sheer frustration of my evening commute took the pleasure out of it.

Experiencing college with that dose of reality made me realize that I never lost it. It's all still there, inside me, with the people who helped me become who I am now.

I arrived home a little rain splattered, but a lot happy. After all, knowing that I was carrying home carrot cake made everything--the rain, my ruined shoes, the traffic--seem like rabbits to me.

the Buwan ng Wika tribute

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After the incredible fun I had yesterday while battling with the elements, I had several awesome, awesome ideas for our buwan ng wika challenge activity at the office.

Before we get to it, disclaimers!

I only just thought this up, so it is in English, which is, yes, ironic. But still. The inspiration is here, I simply cannot translate yet!

To put everyone in the mood, a random office moment:

I propose, officemates of mine, that:

1. We speak Filipino, and any local dialect, during office hours, for the whole month of August. No English, or any other foreign language. We will allow gestures, provided that they are entertaining enough.

2. Office hours, meaning, we get to speak English during lunch, before 7:30 in the morning, and after 4:30 in the afternoon. (Including the informal morning and afternoon breaks seem too much, what do you think?)

3. There is no need to speak highfalutin Filipino (although people who can do it are welcome to do so), we just have to speak in Filipino.

4. In the interest of being fair to people who will find it difficult to say certain words in Filipino (like headband), we will have certain conditions where we can allow speaking in English, such as:

A. Designated English speaking areas (Like, you can speak English while standing in front of the printer?)

B. Safewords. (You can speak English if you can work a safeword into your sentence.)For example, the safeword I choose is apples. Say, you wanted to say micronutrients but didn't know what it would be in Filipino.
You would then have to find a way to include both my safeword and your word in the sentence. Each participant can choose a safeword, so the person won't have difficulty choosing an alternate word to include.
A possible sentence in this would be 'Apples have micronutrients + actual sentence. (Wow, this is challenging, because I think that sentence is completely false.)

C. Invoking profession. If it's work, we allow it.

5. We will keep track (by tally sheet) of offenses against the Filipino language. At the end of the month, I propose that the person with most offenses will be spending the first week of September as a jejemon.

Regarding the punishment, by this I mean, this person will be speaking in jejetalk (speak? w/ever) for the whole first week. He or she may revert to normal speech patterns during lunch, before 7:30 am and after 4:30 pm. Also, for business purposes, jejetalk is off. Just for office conversation, this person will have to be as jejemon as possible.

Before you say you don't know how, the Internet provides a variety of ways for us to learn the ways of the jejemon!

There are dictionaries, and other ways to live jeje-ly.

And, well, it is not like we can fully call you out on inappropriate jejemon behavior. We aren't very familiar with it.

So, what do you guys say!

Let's get it on!

End with another random office moment:

***Disclaimer: If you are new to this site (and my writing), I mean no harm to anyone. I have nothing against the jejemon. While I do not understand it, I have always been a whatever floats your boat kind of girl, and believe that the existence of the jejemon, in a world where children can get their own 3d life story, is certainly allowed.

To each his/her own.