Journalistic Tendencies
I have this ritual that I've been doing for the last few years now. Every January (or in this case, March) I go into a book store and search for the perfect notebook-slash-organizer that will be my planner/journal/sketchbook for the rest of the year. In this era of Blackberries and PDAs and considering the fact that I'm such a gadget whore I am still remarkably reliant on good old pen and paper.
choices, choices...
In a sense I’m really picky when it comes to planners, so much that I’ve even developed a set of prerequisites:
a) It has to have thick paper because I dont like it when ink seeps to the other side thus rendering the page useless.
b) It can't be too intrically designed or fancy. I’ve been given heaps of journals with shells and glass beads and soft sheepskin leatherbound covers and for some reason I could never write anything on them. Maybe it’s because they were so pretty I wanted to cuddle in bed with them instead. My best journals have been 15-peso Cattleya notebook fillers. Those I gladly impale with my perverted thoughts…
c) Pages have to be blank and without any self-help inspirational quotes printed in between random pages. These annoy me, maybe because I feel like some unseen being is preaching and telling me how to lead my life. I can smile and be kind to others without anyone telling me to.
d) Most importantly, it has to have a monthly calendar. I’ve tried my best to really work with a daily calendar but I get lost somehow. Seeing my entire month laid out in one page allows me to see just how many more days I can procrastinate.
Once I’ve found what I want, then comes the tedious task of transferring all my data, business numbers, appointments, ideas, and other things that need to be carried over from my old planner (which at this point has gone from sheer black leather to something that resembles a mangled tongue) to my new one.
So what’s in my planner?
-To Do Lists. Somehow I think that if I make a list of things I need to do for the week I will achieve them faster. Which of course never works. To this day items like "Fix Working Visa" and "Make One Million Dollars" remain unchecked.
-I love drawing but unfortunately, drawing doesn’t love me. So my journal is full of stick figure people, dodgy storyboards of the short films and videos I did for the year, and really really pathetic attempts at calligraphy.
(If I had a wish right now it would be to draw well. Like this bastard. I really believe drawing is one of the most underrated talents.)
-Cool Movie Titles. I have this growing checklist of titles which I would love to use in my films someday. They’re not attached to any plots or stories just yet, but I just think they sound cool. Like “Sushi For Cowards.”
-I write down observations of people. This usually happens when I’m waiting for the train or bus to come. I love it when people pick their nose and they think no one sees them. I like it when I see really old couples help each other up the bus. And it never fails to cheer me up when Pinoys sit next to me and start talking to each other in Tagalog. There’s something immensely soothing about hearing your native language in a foreign land, even if the topic of discussion is something about the Starstruck Finalists coming to Sydney and performing in Town Hall.
-Really bad poetry. So bad that if you were to read it, you’d vomit and laugh at the same time. Think about how painful that would be.
-I have little lightbulb icons drawn on some pages and next to that are little ideas that spring to mind- film ideas, cool character names, and short stories.
Writing this entry suddenly made me think about how our planners and journals have evolved in such a short span of time. Like, does anyone still use a filofax? I remember how everyone used to carry one around bought from Fino (sosyal) or Tickles (uhm, cute) and they'd have little plastic ziplock pages which contained graduation pictures of friends and during breaks at Mcdo in La Salle small talk between classmates would be: “Patingin ng filo…” and the reply would be “Sure, basta, sulat ka ng dedication ha?” while pointing to the back section where people would write stuff like “Hey I’m so glad you’re my blockmate" followed by senti song lyrics from the ex-singer of Journey and Rick Price. Yes, kids, this was how life was before Friendster.
And don't get me started on those Trapper Keepers.
Today we have blogs of course. I used to think people with blogs were insecure losers silently clamoring for attention. Then I got one and now I think all bloggers are edgy artists speaking their minds. Haha.
As much as I enjoy blogging for all its quasi therapeutic benefits, in a way it’s also kind of embarrasing. Sometimes I bump into old acquaintances who are like “Dude! I read your blog!” followed by a wide undecipherable grin and I suddenly feel sheepish. At the same time I read other people’s blogs and then I see them out at some bar and I think “Shit, I know how depressed she was last week because her and her boyfriend fought because he told his friends that he found her best friend hot...”
So why do we do it? Why have we allowed our thoughts to trickle on to the world wide web for people to read, judge, and possibly mock? I really don’t know. Maybe it’s because deep down we are all kulang sa pansin and we think that by posting our opinions on a public space we are all making some sort of contribution to society and gaining some measure of immortality. And getting judged and mocked in the process.
So I compromise. I write stuff online, but I still write stuff for me and me alone. I keep them in my head because there are just some things that are better left unwritten. So next time you bump into me and say “Dude, nice blog” , realize that you don’t know me completely, just an edited, watered-down version. However, if you sit with me, buy me my favorite Aussie beer, and talk to me, I may just tell you my secrets. Because nothing still beats a really good conversation.
..........
MOOD: In dire need of a VB
MUSIC: Joy Division, 'Love Will Tear Us Apart'
MOVIE: Napoleon Dynamite. Can't wait for Nacho Libre...
TV SHOW: Amazing Race. I could so win this.
choices, choices...
In a sense I’m really picky when it comes to planners, so much that I’ve even developed a set of prerequisites:
a) It has to have thick paper because I dont like it when ink seeps to the other side thus rendering the page useless.
b) It can't be too intrically designed or fancy. I’ve been given heaps of journals with shells and glass beads and soft sheepskin leatherbound covers and for some reason I could never write anything on them. Maybe it’s because they were so pretty I wanted to cuddle in bed with them instead. My best journals have been 15-peso Cattleya notebook fillers. Those I gladly impale with my perverted thoughts…
c) Pages have to be blank and without any self-help inspirational quotes printed in between random pages. These annoy me, maybe because I feel like some unseen being is preaching and telling me how to lead my life. I can smile and be kind to others without anyone telling me to.
d) Most importantly, it has to have a monthly calendar. I’ve tried my best to really work with a daily calendar but I get lost somehow. Seeing my entire month laid out in one page allows me to see just how many more days I can procrastinate.
Once I’ve found what I want, then comes the tedious task of transferring all my data, business numbers, appointments, ideas, and other things that need to be carried over from my old planner (which at this point has gone from sheer black leather to something that resembles a mangled tongue) to my new one.
So what’s in my planner?
-To Do Lists. Somehow I think that if I make a list of things I need to do for the week I will achieve them faster. Which of course never works. To this day items like "Fix Working Visa" and "Make One Million Dollars" remain unchecked.
-I love drawing but unfortunately, drawing doesn’t love me. So my journal is full of stick figure people, dodgy storyboards of the short films and videos I did for the year, and really really pathetic attempts at calligraphy.
(If I had a wish right now it would be to draw well. Like this bastard. I really believe drawing is one of the most underrated talents.)
-Cool Movie Titles. I have this growing checklist of titles which I would love to use in my films someday. They’re not attached to any plots or stories just yet, but I just think they sound cool. Like “Sushi For Cowards.”
-I write down observations of people. This usually happens when I’m waiting for the train or bus to come. I love it when people pick their nose and they think no one sees them. I like it when I see really old couples help each other up the bus. And it never fails to cheer me up when Pinoys sit next to me and start talking to each other in Tagalog. There’s something immensely soothing about hearing your native language in a foreign land, even if the topic of discussion is something about the Starstruck Finalists coming to Sydney and performing in Town Hall.
-Really bad poetry. So bad that if you were to read it, you’d vomit and laugh at the same time. Think about how painful that would be.
-I have little lightbulb icons drawn on some pages and next to that are little ideas that spring to mind- film ideas, cool character names, and short stories.
Writing this entry suddenly made me think about how our planners and journals have evolved in such a short span of time. Like, does anyone still use a filofax? I remember how everyone used to carry one around bought from Fino (sosyal) or Tickles (uhm, cute) and they'd have little plastic ziplock pages which contained graduation pictures of friends and during breaks at Mcdo in La Salle small talk between classmates would be: “Patingin ng filo…” and the reply would be “Sure, basta, sulat ka ng dedication ha?” while pointing to the back section where people would write stuff like “Hey I’m so glad you’re my blockmate" followed by senti song lyrics from the ex-singer of Journey and Rick Price. Yes, kids, this was how life was before Friendster.
And don't get me started on those Trapper Keepers.
Today we have blogs of course. I used to think people with blogs were insecure losers silently clamoring for attention. Then I got one and now I think all bloggers are edgy artists speaking their minds. Haha.
As much as I enjoy blogging for all its quasi therapeutic benefits, in a way it’s also kind of embarrasing. Sometimes I bump into old acquaintances who are like “Dude! I read your blog!” followed by a wide undecipherable grin and I suddenly feel sheepish. At the same time I read other people’s blogs and then I see them out at some bar and I think “Shit, I know how depressed she was last week because her and her boyfriend fought because he told his friends that he found her best friend hot...”
So why do we do it? Why have we allowed our thoughts to trickle on to the world wide web for people to read, judge, and possibly mock? I really don’t know. Maybe it’s because deep down we are all kulang sa pansin and we think that by posting our opinions on a public space we are all making some sort of contribution to society and gaining some measure of immortality. And getting judged and mocked in the process.
So I compromise. I write stuff online, but I still write stuff for me and me alone. I keep them in my head because there are just some things that are better left unwritten. So next time you bump into me and say “Dude, nice blog” , realize that you don’t know me completely, just an edited, watered-down version. However, if you sit with me, buy me my favorite Aussie beer, and talk to me, I may just tell you my secrets. Because nothing still beats a really good conversation.
..........
MOOD: In dire need of a VB
MUSIC: Joy Division, 'Love Will Tear Us Apart'
MOVIE: Napoleon Dynamite. Can't wait for Nacho Libre...
TV SHOW: Amazing Race. I could so win this.
posted by Carlo Ledesma at 10:12 PM
|
