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First, proof that I was at iBlog 4‘s after-party last Saturday. Because, my friends, the law of the internet is: PICS OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN!!! (or PICS OR NOT TRUE!!!):

THERE’S A NORMAL LOOKING PENNY, HELGA, AND ANNE.
AND THEN THERE’S MIKEY.

I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT LUIS DID TO BIM, BUT IT CAN’T BE GOOD.

Highlight of the evening was watching Ade and Lauren‘s band, Lose Your Beer Belly, play.

Now that that’s out of the way.

In today’s episode, we tackle pressing matters such as your newfound internet fame, how not to come across as an attention whore when you’re, well, pretending to NOT be one (and obviously failing at it), missing doctypes, swearing off dating bloggers (but there is an exception, apparently), why screaming Japanese gibberish in a really high-pitched voice at 3 in the morning can be annoying to some people, and how to properly respond to stalker-ish blog entry mentions about you.

Day 2 of Dreamweaver class and this is what we’re doing:

Tables.

Now I have nothing against tables. In fact, I love tables. They’re nice to put things on and though it’s been proven that they’re not needed to properly eat a meal (because under certain circumstances— say, when you find yourself in a remote island with no electricity, no running water, and no cellular reception— your lap, one of your hands or any steady surface would do), they still make things a hell lot easier.

But seriously, who still uses tables in webdesign? And why does this goddamn school feel the need to devote four precious hours to this outdated bullshit? When we could be spending our time learning something relevant, like, I don’t know, Flash pre-loaders? CSS sprites? CSS-based navigations? Global warming? The plight of drunken elephants in India??? ANYTHING but goddamn tables!

I’ve just been PWOT-ed. I half-expected our instructor to tell us to incorporate glitter graphics and animated butterfly gifs into the site we made today.

You know what I need to do? Buy memory for my laptop.

I can’t believe that I just spent two days and one night in a place devoid of any necessities (and what more, conveniences) offered by the modern world. And damn, I do declare: Anawangin Cove was LOVELY. Sure, we had our “I wanna go back home, OMG OMG OMG I miss my bed, I miss my boyfriend, I want a massage, I want flushing toilets and a proper shower, I want fried chicken, I want a chocolate milkshake, I want to go back home and blog, I wish I never came here, I miss Twitter” moments, but all in all, we fared pretty well.

No, that’s an understatement. If there’s anything we learned about ourselves this weekend, it’s that surviving in the wilderness on a remote island (with no electricity, no running water, no cellular reception, no cold drinks, and no fresh-off-the-deep-fryer KFC chicken) skills? WE HAZ ‘EM. And I shit you not when I say we had to gather wood for fire (because the dude with the stove was caught up in them mountains). As Anne said, while we were dragging the firewood from the beach back to our tents: How primitive. I shit you not, too, when I say that it took ten people to cook a pot of rice. We blame it on our sheltered middle class upbringing.

Anawangin Cove is, hands down, one of the most beautiful beaches I’ve ever been to. The landscape is amazing and something I’ve never seen before (probably because I don’t travel much and tend to stick to tried-and-tested vacation destinations): mountains, a gorgeous beach, pine trees, a river, a lake, foliage, chickens (srsly, chickens at a beach???), and the clearest moonlit night sky. It all sounds cheesy until you get there, so shut up, asshole.

Unfortunately, everyone had the brilliant idea of going there the same weekend as us. The place was substantially peopled, much to our annoyance (because we’re greedy and we don’t particularly like showering in front of an ogling male crowd or sharing two toilets with a hundred strangers), but it was an all right crowd. I guess. It’s not like we had a choice.

It is also worth saying that although we had with us several bottles of alcohol, none of us got drunk or attempted to get drunk. This camping trip earns the Most Sober Fun I’ve Ever Had My Whole Life award.

I love the Philippines =)

Pictures! Lots of them! Here and here and here and under the cut!

After a year of being postponed, my good friend Klassy finally left for the US last Monday.

It’s sad and what’s sadder is that I wasn’t able to see her off. Klassy and I go way way way back, to a time when she was known as ‘bursting at the seams’ and I, ‘sicfairy’. Ours is a friendship founded on Hanson (yes, the band) but based on so much more. It’s a nice big bundle of crazy, of fangirl-isms, of scream-singing in cars, of drunken nights, of themed parties, of Fun Times At 20 Avelino Street, of ugly green and white uniforms, of catholic schoolgirl angst, of Katipunan Avenue meanderings, of LJ-ing, of “rabid like burning chlamydia”, of emo porch moments, of hookah!, of purple clay penises!, of lezzie love, of love, of being there for each other, and… it’s cheesy and sappy, but it’s actually harder to write about her than I thought it’d be.

It’s odd knowing that she’s not within texting distance nowadays. Like, “K, wanna have coffee, let’s” kind of distance. Like, “K, it’s Tiesto tomorrow, wanna watch, let’s” kind of distance. Like “K, gather the kids, let’s do something” kind of distance.

Now it’s an “I’ll see you, I’ll come visit you. Not soon, but I will!” kind of distance. And it’s sad.

So I’ll leave it at that, although Klassy deserves more than a blog entry (and definitely a BETTER blog entry than this) from me.

TWO OF MY FAVORITE THINGS IN THE WORLD: KLASSY AND KUPCAKES.
O-HO! DID YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE!

Two more geeky things after the cut.

Helga: Im a kitty!
Helga: http://www.flickr.com/photos/helga/
Roel: :))
Roel: boardedd?
Helga: I took pictures for Lover lol
Helga: Its how we keep the relationship alive
Helga: I pretend to be a cat
Helga: He pretends his girlfriend is normal

What I did today, instead of working on the five design plates due for my crash course on creative conceptualization tomorrow:

I don’t eat fishies or Whiskas, though. Meow.

(Yes yes, I know it looks like somebody came all over me. Dirty mirror shots = fail.)

Currently looking at Swatch watches.