huntington who?

am writing this entry on the cafe PC here at chapman university (naks, feeling). it's the last full day of the seminar, and even if my brain's a bit whacked, here are my random thoughts about it:

1. it still amazes me how so many people in this country are so amazed that i speak english.
2. europeans and asians seem to be more...centered...than the other folks. oh, and southerners seem to be nicer, too.
3. living in a society that has a lot of money, education and time on their hands can make you think about a lot of things, a lot of the time.
4. i might just be, deep down, a...practical...republican...

regarding the entry title, "huntington who?":

we're in a discussion group, and somebody says (we were talking about the iraq war), "how do you think the huntington theory fits into this?", and of course, i'm as quiet and ignorant as a brown mouse, and then this funny gay mormon (bwahahaha) says, "well, (NAME), i think the huntington theory is awesome, but maybe you could tell THEM (meaning the rest of the people in the discussion group) about it."

naks. good save.

and in other news:
1. i was talking to a german girl and two folks from down south about driving, and i said, "i love butt parking", and they just found it so hilarious, and said they'd steal the term. hehe.

2. the super highlight of the seminar so far is the work of an indian poet named amrita pritam..."let me dress you in sunlight", "stars fall in the thick of night/ when they forced my mother's womb" LUFET!

habagat and i survived...

...my first AMTRAK ride (super excited, ang aga dumating), and my first 3+ hours bus ride (with an undeniably annoying white woman yakking her head off at the back of the bus), complete with one wiwi session (note: the toilet was so high that i had to go on tiptoe just to freaking PEE).

my trusty HABAGAT backpack, with the claremont station in background. this is where the bus dumped me, where i bid goodbye to the white woman yakker.


am here now at my cousin rica's bee-yu-tee-ful home in chino, with my nephew who has tito freddie's ears (rica's husband: "yup, he's got the manas ears").


that's me, rica, and her son kevin (who, mind you, at 11 years old, is already my fricking height) at the cabazon outlet ekek. sinara namin ang outlet, literally--we were shaking open doors that were already locked.

am officially tamad na to go to my seminar. but mom will kill me if i ditch it. i'll kill me, too, when i think about it.

a few san francisco pictures

obsessing over the pillars of the Palace of Fine Arts.

finally got to see the Golden Gate Bridge!

the BUSTER!

californiaaaaaaaa

friends, romans, countrymen:

i survived The Classic Javier Family Ordeal--the fear of getting bumped off at narita. travelling alone, i realized, as our plane arrived in tokyo from manila, that the very sight, sound, smell of japanese soil triggers a great amount of fear and dread in my little curly head.

will they let me board? will i have to squeeze into (when with family) a terribly small, terribly overpriced hotel room, eating baon or otsumami hoarded during the flight? who will i have to bow to continuously to get my butt on that plane?

i thank heaven and lola for taking care of me so far.

and so far it's been great! the last time i was in san francisco i was single-digit age and nursing a horrible head cold so i didn't see squat. i got off the plane and hit the ground running for The Buster Tour, care of carla, zandro, nikki (carla's sister), and the newest Foxy Baby on the Block, Joaquin "Buster" Reyes-Cuerva. adorable little bugger has fallen in love with my dog tag.

first day: GGB (naks, feeling san franciscan), palace of fine arts (so much bigger than it seemed on the rock), fisherman's wharf, that crooked road ekek.

second day: haight-ashbury district, north beach festival.

both days: lots of leftovers from restaurants c/o my not (yet) -used-to-american-lamon-servings tummy.

next stop: chino, san diego, and orange for my seminar.
californiaaaaaaaa....

BABY!

very very cute and quiet! perfect combination.
not mine, though--my inaanak c/o lee-lee

tubi...

or not tutubi...
that is the question...

cross your toes for me.
32 hours to go.

happiness is a warm gun.

step 1: double tap with the M16, two targets.

step 2: walk, walk, walk. switch to 9mm. double tap; again, two targets.

step 3: smile for the camera. repeat steps 1 & 2 until sufficiently happy.

HEHEHE.