This is a little fun piece inspired by the College Bookstore display back in February. There are two lines here quoted from that board, and I give credit to whoever contributed those. Feel free to add to these with your comments =)
Love in PCC is...
...rushing early to the Crowne Center but still being late to get to your seat for chapel
...thinking that a stopover at Dixon is the closest distance to get from the Crowne Center to Young Tower
...standing in the cold to "meet and say goodbye" to someone at Rawson Chapel
...eating breakfast with your girlfriend at 7:00 a.m. even though you don't have class till third hour
...having a reason to leave a voice mail every single day
...a guy carrying around a lady's pink school bag and actually feeling proud about it
...a girl wearing a guy's suit jacket and actually thinking she looks good
...going to the 2:30 Vespers with your special someone even when you have a 1:00 card
...going on a diet two months before fine arts to fit into that dress that he had liked
...hunting down the halls of the guys' dorm for a tie that matches her dress
...subconsciously starting to walk and open doors backwards
...adjusting your seats in church to have that hymnal right between you
...circling the Campanile from 10:00 p.m. to 10:30 p.m. on Sunday evenings
Showing posts with label Fun Stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fun Stuff. Show all posts
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Saturday, April 05, 2008
I'm a Cat
These lyrics were originally requested by some friends of mine, but they turned down the piece when they said it didn't fit the purpose. Oh well, at least it was fun writing it. The meter is very loose, so I would hardly classify this as a poem. It is just three verses of playful rhyme, the product of too much Dr. Seuss in early childhood.
I’ve a fuzzy little body,
With fuzzy little paws
That turn when I am angry
To hard, ferocious claws…
I’m a cat, I’m a cat,
That goes meow, meow, meow,
I’m a cat, and a cat am I.
I’ve a wetted little nose
With whiskers all around,
I’ve a sharp and squealing voice
That can make a purring sound…
I’m a cat, I’m a cat,
That goes meow, meow, meow,
I’m a cat, and a cat am I.
I’ve got eyes that shine in moonlight,
I’ve got ears with pointed ends,
I’ve an appetite for fishes
And no mousy, doggy friends…
I’m a cat, I’m a cat,
That goes meow, meow, meow,
I’m a cat, and a cat am I.
I’ve a fuzzy little body,
With fuzzy little paws
That turn when I am angry
To hard, ferocious claws…
I’m a cat, I’m a cat,
That goes meow, meow, meow,
I’m a cat, and a cat am I.
I’ve a wetted little nose
With whiskers all around,
I’ve a sharp and squealing voice
That can make a purring sound…
I’m a cat, I’m a cat,
That goes meow, meow, meow,
I’m a cat, and a cat am I.
I’ve got eyes that shine in moonlight,
I’ve got ears with pointed ends,
I’ve an appetite for fishes
And no mousy, doggy friends…
I’m a cat, I’m a cat,
That goes meow, meow, meow,
I’m a cat, and a cat am I.
Monday, March 05, 2007
The Filipino-Chinese Engagement
Want a little satire of our Fil-Chi world?
Kevin Ong and Mandy Chua will be getting married, and today is their engagement day. I, the omnipresent and omniscient narrator, sit by the Chua residence’s open front door.
The living room is steaming, and I can only imagine the heat those ladies in gowns must be feeling under their three layers of foundation and piles of parlored hair. The men have already resorted to strolling and smoking in the parking area outside the door, but the women are somehow still trying to fake composure in their perspiration.
Over to my right, three senior ladies are discussing the couple while furiously flapping their handfans. The first is Josefina Chua, the aunt of the bride-to-be, chatting incessantly about how she had been the matchmaker of the couple (which we know she really was not). Next to her is Mrs. Gomez, the godmother of the groom. She seems relatively quiet compared to the other two, probably because of the tight dress that had been measured for her three months ago, back then in early December. Then lastly, there is Mrs. Adelaida Ong, Kevin’s mother. Oh the pride in her eyes as she talks about her first born!
The three women seem unable to agree whether the groom or the bride deserved the other more. Miss Chua obviously praised Mandy as the undeservedly lucky one, but Mrs. Ong would always argue the contrary. As they will probably not reach a conclusion even if we let them argue for the next five years, let’s leave them alone for a while.
Right across the room from where I sit, there lies a long table filled with pairs of everything. From gorgeous watches to stacks of cloth to the latest hello kitty slippers, the table is laden with red packages and the word 囍. Little Nicole and Lawrence Chua skip over to the table, grabbing at the elaborate gifts. They are immediately rebuked by Lilieth, however, their mother and the wife of Mandy’s older brother. So the chiasmus of toppling presents is delayed for the moment.
As the hour draws near, the guests brave the heat and try to fit into the suddenly very cramped living room. There are insufficient monoblock chairs to go around, and the dining chairs, living chairs, and office chairs are put in continuously by Mandy’s male cousins.
At long last, we are ready to begin. Mandy, who had spent the last four hours in the air-conditioned master bedroom, obviously had no idea of the summer heat, and she appears in a tight pink dress with a curtain upon her shoulders. Everyone could see Kevin smiling broadly as he looks upon his bride-to-be. Escorted by her mother and father-side aunts, Mandy is led backwards down the stairs. They say it’s for good luck, but if luck is defying common sense and walking downstairs in a long gown and silver high-heeled sandals, then I don’t know what’s unlucky.
So she descends in the midst of admiring murmurs. Young Lawrence lets out a scream which brings a loud, “Sh!” from his father immediately. Delighted by this encouragement, the toddler screams again, and again, and again until he and his little sister make quite an orchestral accompaniment to their young aunt’s entrance. Then just when Mandy’s walk is near completion, Lilieth successfully leads her two precious ones to a back corner of the adjacent dining room, though not without a farewell scream.
The ceremony begins! The people take turns putting chains, and watches, and bracelets, and rings, and all sorts of shiny objects on either Mandy or Kevin. The photographer, who is actually an elder cousin of Kevin, snaps picture after picture as he nudges closer and closer to the front.
He trips over a pot of flowers. “Oh!” “It’s okay.”
He sits down on the seat of the bride’s father, which he really shouldn’t, but nobody has the heart to tell him.
Then just when the ceremony is about to close in total amateur perfection, a symphony of boxes tumbling and paper ripping echoes through the living room. All eyes turn. Yes, Nicole and Lawrence have done it again. The tableload of packages is now on the floor by means of a pulled tablecloth. In the very center of the chaos, Lawrence smiles proudly while his sister tears the gifts apart.
Now, the displeasure in everyone’s mind is quite clear enough to me, and to everyone else in the room, for that matter. However, these future relatives seem to find it better if everyone pretends that he or she is not at all disturbed and that the catastrophic gift avalanche is a lovely little episode of childhood innocence.
With such a mutual understanding quickly spread throughout the room, the Chua aunts all help to bring the children aside, examining them ever so carefully for any possible injuries. After a full ten minutes, Lawrence and Nicole are declared fine, and everyone exclaims at the kids’ ingenuity of pulling the tablecloth in order to reach the gifts. Kevin and Mandy exchange the final tokens (which they would have done eight minutes ago if the photographer had not demanded his own presence at the exchange), and the people clap.
Now is time for the tea ceremony. Since someone had apparently remembered to prepare the tea set but not the tea, the ladies have to fan their make-up for five more minutes before the couple is ready to serve them.
First, Mandy holds the tray while Kevin serves the barely-flavored tea. Since he had been visiting with her relatives throughout their courtship, Kevin basically knows her family, and the couple pulls off the first round wonderfully.
Now, round two. Kevin holds the tray while Mandy serves the tea. All smiles, the two offer the symbolic cups to the five representatives of Kevin’s family (it would have been six, but someone told Kevin’s poor little bro that he was “odd-numbered” and could not come). After serving one godmother and one uncle, someone whispers that Kevin should be introducing them to the bride.
Kevin is surprised at his own negligence, and he immediately picks up, “Oh, I’m sorry. Here, this is Mandy.”
The tea ceremony being done after double rounds of introductions (compliments of Kevin), it is time for the all essential food. Everyone is passed a bowl of misua, served in mixmatched bowls, and perhaps a chopstick or two. The three elderly ladies we had mentioned, the parents of the couple, the couple themselves, and all other important guests (which theoretically includes everyone) gather to the dining table, where they are served two eggs in a bowl each.
Nobody is hungry, but everyone has to eat. So they do. Everyone eats one egg and splits the remaining one. Well, to be honest, this activity isn’t at all environmental. Why cook double the eggs when people are just going to eat half of their servings? Ask your grandmother.
At long last, the day is done. As the sun sinks nearer to the horizon in its golden glow, the tired guests finally have a reason to call the time “late.” Companies start their cars and leave off one by one, each family carrying a basket or packet of candies and biscuits. Everyone is happy. Well, at least until they realize they don’t have enough baskets to give away.
In a flurry, Lilieth and husband John rummage through the house, searching for those evasive baskets until they find the said baskets underneath the collapsed table cloth. They breathe a sigh of relief as the most important guests take off with the most damaged baskets, and the ceremony is done.
Wonderful engagement, wasn’t it now? Simply unforgettable.
Kevin Ong and Mandy Chua will be getting married, and today is their engagement day. I, the omnipresent and omniscient narrator, sit by the Chua residence’s open front door.
The living room is steaming, and I can only imagine the heat those ladies in gowns must be feeling under their three layers of foundation and piles of parlored hair. The men have already resorted to strolling and smoking in the parking area outside the door, but the women are somehow still trying to fake composure in their perspiration.
Over to my right, three senior ladies are discussing the couple while furiously flapping their handfans. The first is Josefina Chua, the aunt of the bride-to-be, chatting incessantly about how she had been the matchmaker of the couple (which we know she really was not). Next to her is Mrs. Gomez, the godmother of the groom. She seems relatively quiet compared to the other two, probably because of the tight dress that had been measured for her three months ago, back then in early December. Then lastly, there is Mrs. Adelaida Ong, Kevin’s mother. Oh the pride in her eyes as she talks about her first born!
The three women seem unable to agree whether the groom or the bride deserved the other more. Miss Chua obviously praised Mandy as the undeservedly lucky one, but Mrs. Ong would always argue the contrary. As they will probably not reach a conclusion even if we let them argue for the next five years, let’s leave them alone for a while.
Right across the room from where I sit, there lies a long table filled with pairs of everything. From gorgeous watches to stacks of cloth to the latest hello kitty slippers, the table is laden with red packages and the word 囍. Little Nicole and Lawrence Chua skip over to the table, grabbing at the elaborate gifts. They are immediately rebuked by Lilieth, however, their mother and the wife of Mandy’s older brother. So the chiasmus of toppling presents is delayed for the moment.
As the hour draws near, the guests brave the heat and try to fit into the suddenly very cramped living room. There are insufficient monoblock chairs to go around, and the dining chairs, living chairs, and office chairs are put in continuously by Mandy’s male cousins.
At long last, we are ready to begin. Mandy, who had spent the last four hours in the air-conditioned master bedroom, obviously had no idea of the summer heat, and she appears in a tight pink dress with a curtain upon her shoulders. Everyone could see Kevin smiling broadly as he looks upon his bride-to-be. Escorted by her mother and father-side aunts, Mandy is led backwards down the stairs. They say it’s for good luck, but if luck is defying common sense and walking downstairs in a long gown and silver high-heeled sandals, then I don’t know what’s unlucky.
So she descends in the midst of admiring murmurs. Young Lawrence lets out a scream which brings a loud, “Sh!” from his father immediately. Delighted by this encouragement, the toddler screams again, and again, and again until he and his little sister make quite an orchestral accompaniment to their young aunt’s entrance. Then just when Mandy’s walk is near completion, Lilieth successfully leads her two precious ones to a back corner of the adjacent dining room, though not without a farewell scream.
The ceremony begins! The people take turns putting chains, and watches, and bracelets, and rings, and all sorts of shiny objects on either Mandy or Kevin. The photographer, who is actually an elder cousin of Kevin, snaps picture after picture as he nudges closer and closer to the front.
He trips over a pot of flowers. “Oh!” “It’s okay.”
He sits down on the seat of the bride’s father, which he really shouldn’t, but nobody has the heart to tell him.
Then just when the ceremony is about to close in total amateur perfection, a symphony of boxes tumbling and paper ripping echoes through the living room. All eyes turn. Yes, Nicole and Lawrence have done it again. The tableload of packages is now on the floor by means of a pulled tablecloth. In the very center of the chaos, Lawrence smiles proudly while his sister tears the gifts apart.
Now, the displeasure in everyone’s mind is quite clear enough to me, and to everyone else in the room, for that matter. However, these future relatives seem to find it better if everyone pretends that he or she is not at all disturbed and that the catastrophic gift avalanche is a lovely little episode of childhood innocence.
With such a mutual understanding quickly spread throughout the room, the Chua aunts all help to bring the children aside, examining them ever so carefully for any possible injuries. After a full ten minutes, Lawrence and Nicole are declared fine, and everyone exclaims at the kids’ ingenuity of pulling the tablecloth in order to reach the gifts. Kevin and Mandy exchange the final tokens (which they would have done eight minutes ago if the photographer had not demanded his own presence at the exchange), and the people clap.
Now is time for the tea ceremony. Since someone had apparently remembered to prepare the tea set but not the tea, the ladies have to fan their make-up for five more minutes before the couple is ready to serve them.
First, Mandy holds the tray while Kevin serves the barely-flavored tea. Since he had been visiting with her relatives throughout their courtship, Kevin basically knows her family, and the couple pulls off the first round wonderfully.
Now, round two. Kevin holds the tray while Mandy serves the tea. All smiles, the two offer the symbolic cups to the five representatives of Kevin’s family (it would have been six, but someone told Kevin’s poor little bro that he was “odd-numbered” and could not come). After serving one godmother and one uncle, someone whispers that Kevin should be introducing them to the bride.
Kevin is surprised at his own negligence, and he immediately picks up, “Oh, I’m sorry. Here, this is Mandy.”
The tea ceremony being done after double rounds of introductions (compliments of Kevin), it is time for the all essential food. Everyone is passed a bowl of misua, served in mixmatched bowls, and perhaps a chopstick or two. The three elderly ladies we had mentioned, the parents of the couple, the couple themselves, and all other important guests (which theoretically includes everyone) gather to the dining table, where they are served two eggs in a bowl each.
Nobody is hungry, but everyone has to eat. So they do. Everyone eats one egg and splits the remaining one. Well, to be honest, this activity isn’t at all environmental. Why cook double the eggs when people are just going to eat half of their servings? Ask your grandmother.
At long last, the day is done. As the sun sinks nearer to the horizon in its golden glow, the tired guests finally have a reason to call the time “late.” Companies start their cars and leave off one by one, each family carrying a basket or packet of candies and biscuits. Everyone is happy. Well, at least until they realize they don’t have enough baskets to give away.
In a flurry, Lilieth and husband John rummage through the house, searching for those evasive baskets until they find the said baskets underneath the collapsed table cloth. They breathe a sigh of relief as the most important guests take off with the most damaged baskets, and the ceremony is done.
Wonderful engagement, wasn’t it now? Simply unforgettable.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
My Little Brown Piano
This is a fun little apostrophe towards our beloved piano. There have been so many moments when I would sit upon the piano bench, yearning to play yet not knowing what to play. Sometimes, as my fingers dance over the keys, the piano moves me to play a certain piece, a certain song, a certain music for the day.
My little brown piano,
What music have you
Prepared for my fingers today?
A butterfly’s shadow,
A bumblebee’s flight,
Or soothing adagios to play?
A Mozart’s sonata,
A Beethoven’s song,
A waltz from some pages of Strauss?
A transcribed cantata
Concertos, chorals,
Or concerts to bring down the house?
Chopin and his nocturnes,
Impressions galore,
Or Bach and his marvelous fugues?
A new piece that still yearns
To practice some more,
A Czerny that’s yet to be used?
My little brown piano,
You’re bursting alive,
Awaiting my fingers to play.
Please echo my sorrow,
My joy, and my life
Through music you give me today.
My little brown piano,
What music have you
Prepared for my fingers today?
A butterfly’s shadow,
A bumblebee’s flight,
Or soothing adagios to play?
A Mozart’s sonata,
A Beethoven’s song,
A waltz from some pages of Strauss?
A transcribed cantata
Concertos, chorals,
Or concerts to bring down the house?
Chopin and his nocturnes,
Impressions galore,
Or Bach and his marvelous fugues?
A new piece that still yearns
To practice some more,
A Czerny that’s yet to be used?
My little brown piano,
You’re bursting alive,
Awaiting my fingers to play.
Please echo my sorrow,
My joy, and my life
Through music you give me today.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
The Candy Woods
This is a fun little piece that I composed for my creative writing course back in Grade 9. It's nothing deep or meaningful, but it is cute and manages to capture my dreamy little spirit
Long, long ago I had a dream
About the candy woods;
The trees and flow’rs were wonderful,
The fruits were very good.
The pines were made of gingerbread,
Their cones of cinnamon;
The gumdrop flow’rs had diff’rent shades
Of blue, and red, and brown.
The oaks were made of chocolate,
Their leaves had icing rims;
The fruits were coated marshmallows
With dainty sugar trims.
The air there smelled of peppermint,
The sun shone glitt'ry beams;
Unfortunately, I woke up,
And it was all a dream.
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