The Great Gatsby by Fritzgerald
Honestly, I really do not like the book. Perhaps you can attack me with the saying “don’t judge the book by its cover”, in my case, don’t judge the book by its title. My first impression really was “What’s a Gatsby?” Is it an animal? An event? A place? A person? The ‘Gatsby’ that I had in my mind was the ‘Gatsby’ my brother uses on his hair, and I don’t think the author admired that hair gel that much to write a novel about it.
Later I learned from a friend, who was supposed to have the book but later gave it up, that the Gatsby in the title was a person. Oohhhh…. I asked him why he gave the book up. He said it was corny, the pace of the story was too slow and he didn’t like it. Enough said.
Then, I was faced with a great trial of pride and comfort. Shall I go on with in? Shall I give it up and look for another one? I never let others’ opinions affect my judgment. Besides, I am not a quitter. If I gave it up, sure I might save myself from the hardship of reading it, I would swallow my pride and ruin my reputation and self-respect. But if I don’t gave it up, what if it’s boring? What if it’s corny? What if it’ll drain my blood dry? But then, what if it’s not? What if it’s nice, as my professor had told me? What if I’ll like it? I have this philosophy that I’ll never know what hell is unless I’ve been there. I’ve never read it so why give up on something you’ve never experienced and tasted? I never let anyone control the way I think, so I gave it a try.
I found the book from the library, good thing it was there, because I was really broke that time and buying a new book was really a No-No. The book is old and dusted; giving me the impression that nobody really likes to read it. It is plainly designed, with no pictures at all, and the texts are typed in large font. Perhaps because the novel only has nine (9) chapters and using large font will make it look thicker.
The book was written and published during the middle twenty’s known as the Roaring Twenty's. It was dubbed as such because the economy at the time was through the roof and people were partying all over the place. At the time, there was a legal ban on the manufacture and sale of intoxicating drink called “Prohibition”. Since a lot of people did not feel like drinking the gin, they made in their bathtubs all the time there was a huge market for organized crime. Organized criminals catered to the needs of the drinking public by illegally supplying them with liquor and made a fortune doing it. Even with all the crime in the Jazz Age though, it will still be remembered for its glittering lights and unbridled romance. It was because of these events during the Roaring Twenty’s that F. Scott Fitzgerald got his theme for the novel.
The novel, from I understand of it is semi-autobiographical. Somehow, it narrated the relationship of Gatsby with his wife, Zelda; his struggle to impress her while he was still working as an army during the war and his personal feelings regarding the contemporary situation of America then.

Lately, I have been constantly wakened up, nauseated by the sounds of songs and hymns played over and over again on the radio. I sniffed and sniffed with the scents of "house spray" my mom occasionally uses during the twelfth month of the year. I crash for the nth time against a tall plastic tree with round colorful things, and angels literally falling on my face. As I put the tree back together, the way it used to (while my mom's hands are on her hips and my brothers are snickering) I grunt, "uh, I hate Christmas."
A lot of people would most likely disagree with me of course (I've been expecting that); people who are Yuletide obsessed. You know, the types who still dress up as Santa Claus for Christmas and those types who transform their houses into some kind of a carnival with colorful lights, then end up complaining about their expensive Meralco bill later (or should we say earlier next year).
Moreover, there are people who have been displaying a frown all year round, transform into uhm… something else with a fake smile that scares you even more as they hand candies and gifts to children who are probably thinking "Is there a dynamite inside the gift box?" These kinds of people would push, of course, that there is nothing not to like about Christmas. However, looking at another perspective, there is something not to like about Christmas.
Personally, I do not specifically despise Christmas, however I do not like Christmas in general. Christmas transforms the Filipinos -- all earthlings in general, into something…someone else that they are not. We still manage to fake a smile and say "Merry Christmas to you" to someone whom we despise all year round and then after Christmas. We still despise the same person. We decorate our houses and play god with the series of lights that make Santa Claus reindeers run but not managing to move from their place; we serve delicious foods and give ourselves a treat ---all these for the sake of nevertheless competing with our neighbors.
Fact is, what I really hate about Christmas is that we treat it as some kind of a special event that makes us do what we're not used to do. Sure sure it is a special day because it's the celebration of the birth of our savior Jesus Christ; however, why treat Christmas differently? Why be someone else during the Yuletide season?
I believe, we have spent Christmases every year of our lives but still miss the whole point of Christmas. Christmas isn’t about the colorful and dancing lights; it isn’t the Christmas movies and cartoons and commercials (the Coke one) specially aired during the Yuletide season; it isn’t about gifts and delicious foods served; it isn’t even about Christmas trees and mistle toes (ooops, we don’t have those kinds here in the Philippines) and it isn’t about Santa at all … Christmas is all about us. (I hate to sound narcissistic here, but hey it really is about us).
Christmas is about us being true to ourselves. It’s about assessing if we’ve really been bad or good and what shall we do about it. It’s about living the Christmas spirit all year round – not only during the time when red and green become the official colors. It’s about making everyday Christmas….
Therefore, perhaps for a change, instead of waiting for gifts to come to unwrap, I decided to something else. Why can’t I give a Christmas gift to the world this year? Why can’t I give that old St. Nick a break from me this year – in fact for the rest of my life? I certainly will. I will give the world a Christmas gift starting this Christmas but will definitely last for a lifetime. I will live as if everyday is Christmas. I live each day and treat each day as special as I would (and most people would) treat Christmas. It may be abstract, yes, but definitely priceless. Yap, definitely priceless (note: don't worry I'm not endorsing master card or anything; I'm not that famous yet).
Happy Christmas to you all.

im pretty late in almost everything- Attendance, school deadlines, EJ deadlines, meetings, even boyfriends (i just have mine when i was in college)- name it im late. i dont expect people to come early coz i dont.
i was also late to be addicted to cellphones. i remember when i was in HS, everyone is so addicted already with cellphones, and yes, i did not give a damn. i was already in college when i got my first phone and lately realize its importance and why it was sooo addictive. unfortunately, i have my own trip; i wasn't addicted.
during the first few years of college, every one was hooked on computer games : counter strike, diablo, age of mythology, battle realms, sims, need for speed, max payne and ragnarok (in the later days...) to name a few. i tried them, yes, even spent hours of playing (and arguing with mostly male co-players and ended up having a drink with them) but i only tried them when the peak season was already low. pretty late.
and then ofcourse, there's friendster. (yes, i have an account. email me at: attyahu@yahoo.com) i think, it dominates the surf-map of the college students by mid third year. back then, i did not have an account yet. i had no plan. it's a complete waste of my time and my money. besides, i can't keep and constantly check its account. i have my own life for goodness sake! but yes, the only thing constant in this world is change. i had my account, but pretty late compared to others who have theirs ages before i finally decided to have one.
i should have known the consequences of opening one before i did it. my email inbox is bombarded with friendster requests from old chums whom i lost contact with (this one is bearable) and from others i see everyday (what's the point?) and afew from those whom i do not know and have no intention to know and befriend. and besides, i am pretty satisfied with my own circle of friends. they're only a handfull, but pretty good. ayat isn't in favor with the friendster thingie, too. i know him so well, and when i showed him my account, i can tell he's sort of pissed. and i don't like that. but what can i do, i already have one and im not doing anything wrong. i did not have an account to meet people, i had one because i wan to. can't that be reason enough? but frankly, id rather not have one. it complicates things.
so why did i open an acount? good question, because i DID not open an account. i met a friend and he opened the account for me. normally, i would ran amoc but i did not. i just let it happen. im tired of arguing with boys who think they've done a great thing when actually they did not and they just comlicates things and made the situations worse. haayyy.
so what's the point of this whole thing? nothing, im just waiting for the rain toi subside before i go home. ciao.

EDITORIAL

Finally, I have begun my life-time installment regarding my share of responsibility and nationality to my uhm… (due to lack of adjectives) country. In simpler words, I voted for the national election 2004 – forced myself to vote actually.

I hope the aspiring wannabes would realize how hard it is to force one’s self to wake up early in the morning of Election Day; and thorny to come up with reasons why you are going to waste a good no-class day, when everyone knows that you’re just one vote. In fact I almost ran out of raison d'être to force myself to get up until the idea of “making a difference” crossed my mind. I want to make a difference, that’s why I wanted to vote. And so I did.

It was really hard to wake up early, skip a good breakfast only to end up getting lost in a swarm of voters looking for their respective precincts, and then not knowing what to do next. It’s also annoying to hardly recognize your own face because of tons of flyers with the government candidates’ faces printed on it; for whatever purpose they serve I do not care.

It’s also tough and mind-breaking to pick the lesser evils from the horde of evils when you already know that somehow, in one way or another, they’re all the same. They just wear different faces and various names so that you can tell them apart.

The violet ink thingie won’t erase easily and no matter how you scrub and whine, it’s still there! It makes your nail look dead and totally not sooo fashionable. Perhaps for a couple of hours, but after that.. aaaah! It’s a sore in the eye.

The worst thing that can happen to a person during Election Day is waiting helplessly inside a bus terminal, nearly getting wet because of the hard down pour outside and uhmm….still waiting for the buses to arrive. It happened to me and the next worst thing? Bus transpo was cancelled and I still had classes the next day.

So, okay making a difference is so not easy, especially when you don’t know if you really had made a difference. Perhaps I did. And if not, at least I have every right to whine and to complain and to loathe when something goes wrong with the government system!

When I was a little girl, my daddy always tells us that “the best things on the world are for free.” Back then, I used to argue that the bet things surely aren’t for free. In fact, through the course of time, there are no best things at all! Condemn me if you want, but yes, let’s face it, we are living in a world of pain, sham and drudgery. Here is the list of things that used to be free, but naturally, they’re not anymore. Bear with me.

a. Dreams. They say, “libre ang mangarap” and I say, “libre ang magpaka-plastic” true-to-the-heart dreams are not an option anymore. Actually, with the spread of reality based shows that trigger young mind to dream of being a showbiz personality instead. They are stealing greater and way far better dreams from the child. Why bother to dream of being a showbiz star, when you can dream of pursuing to be a doctor, or lawyer or teacher instead? They may not promise big load of money in one click but they promise security and tranquility. The money will come along eventually.

b. Happiness. They say “no money can buy happiness” true, true, I say. The problem with us is that we don’t have enough time to afford for happiness anymore – a good laughter, a good cheer. Duh. Just look at the world around you, a frown in everybody’s face, traffic jam… aaaah! The agony of despair.

c. Friendship. The most realistic poem that I’ve read is eric pete’s uhm…poem. I’ve forgotten the title, (if it HAD a title) but he said, “brothers are evil, friend love not” he had written the poem several centuries ago and STILL it applies to us. You just can’t trust anyone anymore. It seems as if, if you have all the money in the world, you would rather buy your self a friend – someone who won’t steal your guy.

d. Good night sleep. If there’s one thing I love doing, it’s sleeping, sleeping and uhm…sleeping. It rests my eyes and calm my nerves, but now, I would call for a celebration if fate would give me time yo sleep. I could hardly sleep, thanks to tons of works and other things that I could not bring when I die. For whatever purpose they serve, I do not care, I just want to sleep.

You might consider me as a world hater…wel...uhm… not exactly. Back then, my point of debate were the expensive icecreams, rich children with expensive clothes could buy. My daddy would only laugh for a while, and then he would cuddle me and sit me on his lap, and kiss me and kiss me some more until I laugh out loud and shout and beg him to stop.

In fact, even up to now, my daddy would still do that. Whenever I come home with a long face and carry a long ‘loathing’ with me, daddy would sit me on his lap ( now, I can’t swing my feet anymore, because they already touch the ground) and kiss me and tickle me until I laugh loud and beg him to stop. A he usually say, “Only for the princess. No extra charge.”

Hey. Come to think of it, the best thing in the world is free after all. It’s not dream, not friend, not happiness, not sleep. They do not even match the best ness of what I have in mind. I hate to do this, but yes, the best thing on the world is for free. My daddy is the best thing on the world and he’s definitely for free. # :O