Dreaming of Tuscany

I’m an old soul.

How did I know that? Because I’m tired. I’ve been tired since the day I was born.

You know I cry every time I see a landscape of a rustic town somewhere in Tuscany? I feel that’s where I belong. Not exactly rusting, but rather old and wise like the lines at the face of our grandparents. They’ve seen a lot. Maybe enough that has made them smarter.

All these years I have been wondering: What is my mission in this world? Like I’m always looking for a reason to exist. There has to be something else I’m just another useless entity loittering the universe.

There has to be one thing I’m meant to do. That’s why I keep returning to this world. But what is that I cannot fathom. I’m over 30 years old and I feel that time is swiftly running out on me. Clock is ticking, if I don’t figure it out soon I’m afraid I never will.

I’m beginning to rule out being what society expects every woman to be. You know, getting married, starting a family and all that insanity. I don’t see any convincing sign that I’m meant to live that life. Hell, I can’t even stand being with another person every second of my day. I always need space. My solitude.

Now that’s something I value dearly. My time with my self. Just keeping silent, pondering, and arguing with my other ego. Some people will mistake that for loneliness, even pity you because you’re alone. Well you can feel alone even when you’re with someone.

And that’s an even worse tragedy.

This Darn Life

It's one of those days when I'm eager to write but can't find a single word that would spark an idea. Heck, i just want to punch on my keyboard and create series of phrases that hopefully will make sense.

Pretty tense ambience at work lately. I don't want to end the year with a butt slap that's for sure, but it sure looks like some heavy nimbus clouds are lurking over and the coming year seem to be easing in with, oh i don't know, a few dark omen.

At least that's my state of mind for now.

Maybe I'm just out of sync. What with the gloomy events I've been getting wind of lately.

Or maybe it's just boredom. Or the air of Christmas and another year ending so fast I haven't even had time to chew it all up. Next year I'll be a year older with heavier worries about the furture and how the hell will I able to earn enough money to pack my bags en route to Europe.

It's a darn life we're living. Sigh.

Oh Well....

Some serious things can really get you off track. Like the end of a relationship. Or hearing of someone dying unexpectedly.

Kinda shakes up that little world you've created for yourself. Or a bubble that bursts without your permission. And you look at the world a little different, a little fresher, sometimes less kinder.

But what can you do? One is simply a prisoner of life. You can either go with its flow or die trying to forge your own canal. If you give up you drown. Most probably you'll just end up floating like an inflated plastic. Not caring where the waves will take you.

Sometimes it's better. Not to feel.

Tina Fey Rocks!

Finally someone with balls to say what we all know. Former SNL head writer Tina Fey calls Paris Hilton a piece of shit!

These golden words were uttered when Tina guested on the Howard Stern show on Thursday coyly discussing former Saturday Night Live hosts.

Tina said the hosts are usually great, but every couple of years you get a bad one - like Paris Hilton who was a "piece of shit"!

We've called Paris a lot of things bitch, like a skanky hoe or a drunk driving liar. But piece of shit is a really direct hit.

Tina didn't stop at the collective-deposit-of-feces allusion. Here are some highlights of her "nightmare" while working with the hotel heiress:

• Paris actually takes herself seriously and "embraces her stupidity".

• Paris was so uninterested in anyone else the staff had a bet to see if she would ask anyone something personal (like "how are you"). She did at one point ask someone "is Maya Rudolph Italian?" (she's half Black, half Jewish).

• Paris refused to do any skits that poked fun at herself. She asked the writers to create a skit in which she could play Jessica Simpson, "because I hate her" and "she's fat." When Paris grew frustrated with the writers, she would "lock herself in her dressing room."

• She Paris's giant man hands and said they were as long as her forearm.
  
  
• When the discussion turned to Hilton's looks, Fey complained that strands of Hilton's "gross Barbie hair" were found all over the set, and that up-close, Paris actually "looks like a tranny."

Tina rocks! The whole world of the sane is rooting for you. And firecrotch Lindsay Lohan, too...

Kill Tom Cruise!

As if I'm not terribly sick enough yet of all these Tom Cruise mumbo-jumbo, I read another news that made me sick to my stomach.

Cruise, as his next project, will star in a Robert Redford- helmed film. Not only that, Redford himself will be in the movie along with fellow Oscar winner Merryl Streep. Man, this one's goin' to be hard. The movie's premise look promising, too.

I love Redford and Streep. But do I love them enough to endure a couple of hours puking my guts out every time Cruise comes on to the screen?

Was Redford sent threatening correspondence to be thrown into the bowels of oblivion if he didn't agree with Xenu's heir? Damn it! This has gone too far. I wish some psycho will get it over it and... well you know what I'm getting to.

Defamer said it all very clear:

"It's a shrewd, if ultimately safe, choice for Cruise, who's apparently decided that the best course of action for a comeback sure to be mercilessly scrutinized is to surround himself with Oscar-winning human shields. Should the project meet with eventual failure, he can deflect any critical bullets by shrugging and asking, "I don't know why the movie didn't connect with audiences. Why don't you ask the people with all the fancy awards?""

My only hope is that Redford will beat the crap out of this lunatic in the movie.

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A friend once asked me: Don't tell me you never liked him in Top Gun?!

Me: No I didn't even watch Top Gun. And let me remind you that in the movie Val Kilmer was the top gun. Not him. He's too short for the job.

Tales From The Boondocks

Just came from a four-day trip to one my favorite places, Sagada in the Northern Philippines.

It was my third voyage to this little idyllic town of 2,000 locals. But every time I go back there's always new things to discover and I fall in love with the place all over again.

Sweet, red, ripe tomatoes, mouth watering fruits, delightful cuisine, wild strawberries, the minty smell of pine woods, and the crispy scent of the dense foliage surrounding the area. Most especially the very beautiful people of Sagada make every trip memorable.

Take a hike to the caves, bathe in the falls, or trek the hills and get a panoramic view of neighboring Sierra Madre. Visit the vegetable gardens where the harvest is blessed by their gods. Then taste the delectable foods with all the ingredients organically grown.

Or how about waking up in the morning and being greeted by the thick mist that envelops the whole town. Smelling the sunflowers, or poinsenttias, and the different variety of flowers that abound.

Best memory of all, taking a sip of their high grade Sagada mountain coffee. The bitter-sweetness delights your mouth and wakes your senses to face a day full of wonderful things to explore.

I love this town. And I'm going back again and again...

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