Yeah, they're going to give Heath Ledger the Best Supporting Actor Oscar, we all know it. I mean, they already gave him the Golden Globe for his spectacular show-stopping deadness, why not sell out like every other existing awards show? Because hey, nothing screams supah-serious credibility! like a pretentious trophy given postmortem.

I say Robert Downey Jr. for the win. Come on, Academy. Get some balls.

For ebonystarfire.

( Colorbars! And then some. )

Been reading Frank Herbert's Dune. It blows the mind. Now I want to watch the movie. Not the 2000 one, but the David Lynch one back in 1984. It has Sting in it. And that dude who plays Chucky.

My only question: Why does every other woman in this book have to be a Bene Gesserit? It's a little annoying.

Communications Technology Management: What a shitstorm.

They flood my inbox with crap.

So I got that part-time job as a simultaneous translator for Good Thinking, a marketing research company, which is great. I get P2000 just to translate two sides of a cassette tape. I need to send the transcript in three days.

It isn't as easy as I thought it would be, though. Three days isn't a lot of time. At all. It's been two days and seven pages later and I haven't even finished one side of the tape.

Plus the conversations are boring. What did I expect, it's a survey interview about toilet bowl cleaner. The only vaguely interesting part was when the housewife mentioned something about muriatic acid, and how it splashed right into her aunt's eye when she was scrubbing the bowl too fast and gave her cataract. That should sufficiently scare me into wearing goggles whenever I clean my bathroom. So the instructions say that you should wait a few minutes before scrubbing with the acid, but I don't care.

Goggles it is.

So, apparently, Heath Ledger was channeling Captain Jack instead of the Joker.

Told you so.

Yay for random Scarecrow eyecandy cameos, though.

Why are church people such snarky bitches? Why? Can anyone tell me? Because I'd really like to know. The rudeness of secretaries is one that translates across all peoples, I know, but parish secretaries in particular take the fucking cake. And then regugitate it.

One would think it would run contrary to their nature, since they work in the House of the Lord and whatnot, but no. Parish secretaries are the worst. I had to put up with their shit in this godawful weather, and there was this terrible mix-up with the parishes. Apparently, something must have been lost in translation between Laurs and I, because the Immaculate Conception she was talking about wasn't the Immaculate Conception I thought. or something like that. Anyway, it's such a goddamn waste, since they already agreed to become our partner parish and all we had to do was visit them this afternoon. Luday's boyfriend Ron was nice enough to drive us there, except it wasn't near Claret like I thought it was. Or like Laura said it would be. Or something. Because a whole other church was sitting next to Claret. Confused? I am, too.

And hell, we would have asked that church (Immaculate Heart of Mary) to cooperate with us instead, except with my sort of luck, of course their offices were closed on Tuesdays. In the car, I discover that Immaculate Conception's address is in Cubao, which isn't anywhere near Claret apparently. Epic fail on my part. So we drive down to Divine Mercy parish, where Ron's family sometimes hears mass. Nobody was around. Nix that idea.

On our way home, Luday spots the Monastery of Sta. Clara and inisists we drop by their offices. That fossilized hag at their 'office' shot us down before we could even try to get all the words out properly. She was all, "Hindi pwede." And that was it. No explanation as to why, just a refusal point blank. But that didn't piss me off half as much as her fucking attitude. You would have thought we were peddling shit wrapped in tinfoil at the church doors, the way she looked at us. She seemed so irritated and condescending, like our standing before her damp from the downpour outside was an affront to those mothballs she's passing off as eyes. We were barely there for five minutes. I swear, she had no intention of hearing us out, she wanted so badly to get rid of us. I hope Satan pokes holes in your wrinkled leathery ass with his pitchfork when you finally croak.

When we finally did get back to school, Luday and I resolve to find a new church within the week. But considering how hard I'd worked to contact Immaculate Conception, part of me was still unwilling to let them go. I mean, between a stressful commute and the hassle of looking for a whole new parish, I was willing to settle for the former. We'd be definitely pressed for time otherwise. Anyway, I decide to call them over the phone in hopes of asking them for directions how to get there. This asshat picks up and gives me the 'tude, for which I am in no fucking mood. She sounded so annoyed with me too, and she kept asking me from which direction I was headed, and every answer opened the doors to a whole different set of questions. Fuck you people! Would it have been so hard to just give me one route from one starting point and left it at that? Would it have killed you to just give me a hand? I get so frustrated at this point, it's all I can do from telling her to go fuck herself on the other line, so I curtly tell her I'll just go find it on a goddamn map and slam the phone down on her.

What's wrong with you people? I know you may not want our help, but here it is anyway! We've done nothing but try to offer ourselves for your church's benefit, and you're all acting like a bunch of ungrateful shits too far gone up your own asses to care! What's a couple more hands helping out around the place? What, your precious parish too good for a couple of college kids like us? Do you really, really want me to pull the I'm From Ateneo Card and point out what a shallow pool of sludge your life is in comparison to mine? Because I don't need this garbage coming from you! I didn't ask to crawl from parish to parish spreading word of the Season of Creation! The Season of Creation might as well go Create a parallel dimension where another Victoria can give two shits!