about the talking fish

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Writer. Wheelman. Occasional DIY mechanic. Walking collection of hang-ups. Hopeless romantic. Old-school. Analog soul in a digital world. I am all of these things and more.

Thursday, July 25, 2002

We held our Mexican-themed party today for our idiosyncratic PE class.

So many things were needed, actually: we planned about five games (some which didn't quite push through because of lack of time), brought an insane amount of food (considering how stringent DLSU is with bringing large amounts of food inside the premises) and got screwed by the awfully timed rainshowers. Because of that damn rain, we had trouble organizing how we'd get the food into the Sports Complex without the guards noticing...and that means using my mom's van. I actually arrived earlier than expected, not the other way around. I was expecting to come in last so I wouldn't have to wait for anyone else. Worse, actually transferring the food to my van meant that we'd have to brave the flooded canals of Taft Avenue.

I'm happy though...I guess we pulled off the party quite well despite all the troubles and a cut class in Philosophy. It was more of a food-driven party than the games-driven parties our other classmates had, since we taught them how to make chicken burritos and paella with shrimp and scallops. Had some games, too...had to make do with a simple palayok (earthen pot) instead of a genuine piƱata because of the price difference...had a sack-race type of game with a twist...those sorts of things.

I'm exhausted.
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These stupid rains have caught me unawares. I was driving my sister home, honking along the Skyway at 70 km/h, when the sky suddenly darkens five shades of PANTONE gray. Every street I turned into had rollicking waves of muddy floodwater. The showers seemed tame, actually, but they were persistent enough to cut my forward visibility.

Thank goodness the Pregio van's a diesel. I would've freaked out otherwise.
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While at the party, I brandished my old Nikon FM camera once again, after a long period of disuse. I took pictures of my constumed classmates eating, playing games, and basically having fun. While I was at it, I felt something missing in me. Taking pictures suddenly made me realize how much of a bore my life's been.

I always put off using my camera because of the most frivolous reasons---most notably that of not being "outside" of my usual daily grind. Nothing was picture-worthy if it was part of the everyday experience I get to repeat ad nauseam. I realize, though, that I have to make those picture-worthy moments happen, or at least keep a keen eye out for the unusual.

I guess this realization came just in time. I'll have my major subject in photography (FOTOCAM) next term. I can't afford to slack off, I suppose.

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