my internal msg alert tone

this afternoon i was woken up by the beeping of my phone. 1 message received.

i could hear croaking.

it's been this way since yesterday.

now, every time the phone beeps, i find myself hoping that i'd hear croaking in my head...and sometimes, i'd be right.

1 message received. ribbid. ribbid.

the frog princess croaks it

frog princess, frog princess, make me a match, find me a find, catch me a catch!


checklist for the frog princess' frog prince:
- born between 1975 - 1981...anything beyond that and he's a tadpole/toad by default
- 5'4 to 5'9... anything shorter or taller is simply beyond frog prince standards
- dusky cafe au lait complexion...to give a twist to the conventional wart-covered green
- preppy clothes are most acceptable, especially in autumn shades (luvly syt 2 behold..)
- clean-cut hair (read as: no long tresses held up in a bun! doesn't figure in the frog prince prototype!)
- spectacles are a plus...except for the dorky black-rimmed ones (leave that to the wartsy-fartsy ones)
- intellectual rather than physical..frog with a strong mind makes a frog prince
- tame, refined, lithe, almost graceful...in leaps and bounds (hate those macho coarse wartsy ones)
- smart, without bein smart-assy (hate those loud sarcastic croakers)
- an achiever in his own swamp (makes up for whatever superficial shortcomings, ribbid!)
- simple, sensible, sensitive, silent, laidback, easygoing------works well under extreme swamp conditions (and with erratic-tempered amphibians)
- a closet romantic
- a lover of books/films/music/better yet, all of the above
- a beautiful voice would be a plus, to depart from the usual croaking
- plus pogi points for a smoking habit (looks good with all the other characteristics put together)
- sexually unthreatening (no to toad maniacs, they stink)
- hetero in every which way, ALL the way.

the myth of the frog prince

Stop kissing frogs, beeyatch. You won't find a prince in a swamp.
Only princesses.
At worst, queenies.

Don't want to get down there. I've had it with the bliss.

bliss

hay. minsan ang sarap lokohin ang sarili. ang sarap magpakatanga. sarap tumalon sa bangin, if only to feel the momentary bliss of flying, kahit alam mong eventually, lalagpak kang duguan.

i'm goin back to subic. it's the show. pray we have some time to spend at the beach, swimmin. bringin a pair of shorts and a manang t-shirt with me, just in case. lookin' forward to another adventure..................!

just a bit o' gobbledygook

changed my mind. i will never get enough of the sea. never get enough of a summer beach vacation. not this summer, not ever. especially now, when i'm almost never home, and almost never here, and there's barely enough time to get enough sleep, never mind have a long, leisurely breakfast with the morning paper (my fave pasttime last summer, during those thrice-a-week movie shoot days), ponder over the state of my life (my fave pasttime since i hit my 20s; i'm in the me-me-me years so i have the perfect excuse), or even watch a movie (my fave pasttime,period!). i'm coming back, halcyon sea. and we're gonna have a dang great time. just you and me, and a few of mah friends.

oh i hate it when a seedling grows on mars. cause it never rains on mars, so it will NEVER grow. why does it always friggin happen, mehn? one of the greatest mysteries in the universe, as far as this speck-in-the-universe is concerned.

i wonder when i'll get to work on my Jeepney concept again. i wonder when i'll get to quit smoking for good. i wonder what i'm doin here at 4 in the morning when the wise thing to do (supposedly) is to sleep away what little free time i have these days. i guess blog and fwendster are such ego-mirrors. hate that. hate being born on april 25.

one year ago i was starting out in film production. wonder where i'll be one year from now.

__________________* ______________________ * _____________________ * ______________

oh, we know how the story goes. as always, as always. same difference, different sameness.

oh, don't mind me. i'm just talking to myself.