Holy crap: Taylor Swift beat George Strait.

Not that I'm agreeing, but she sure is cute (and tall!).



In yo' face Kanye.

Hipsteria: The Mohawk

But here is where Too Short left with female co-eds and tequila bottle in hand. Here is where Michael Stipe (REM) supposedly puked his guts out.


“[Stipe] needed to go to the bathroom,” Moody said. “He was on the roof deck and it was jam packed with people so I asked an employee, an ex-Marine, to help Stipe. Not knowing that Stipe is a frail, nervous guy—grabs him and says ‘Come with me dude.’ He puts [him] in a headlock and starts yelling: ‘He’s gonna puke! He’s gonna puke!’ The crowd cleared out and Stipe got to the bathroom. For the longest time, the rumor was that Michael Stipe puked in the Green Room at the Mohawk.”

Jump to the Deli Magazine Austin for the full scoop.






(It's not my best work but I'm going to pull the over-worked teacher card now and I'm sure it won't be my last).

"New Moon" Soundtrack

I will probably see the movie but I will definitely buy the soundtrack.

Bon Iver & St. Vincent? Thom Yorke? Are you fucking kidding me? Yes please.

I'm alive.

I moved to America when I was eight years-old. Unlike my American counterparts, I didn't know how to swim. Even though the Philippines is made up of 7,100 islands, I had never seen the beach or a swimming pool.

It was May when I landed in Dallas, TX, so learning how to swim was top priority. Everyday, my family took me to the apartment pool where I learned to swim underwater and doggy paddle--basically enough to enroll me in lessons at the YMCA.

My teacher there taught us basic strokes--freestyle, back stroke, and side stroke. I was good at side stroke, decent at back (though I swam into other lanes), but terrible, just awful at freestyle. Tilting, breathing, kicking, and stroking--all while trying to breathe in water--was too much for me.

In order to pass the class, we all had to jump into the deep end and freestyle down the length of the pool. We had to do this alone, one at a time, in front of the class. I passed, but just barely and it took me forever. It is, by far, the hardest exam I've ever taken.




Being a first-year teacher makes me feel like that eight year-old kid who is trying to catch her breath before going under again.

My favorite soldier

We are very proud of him.

On writing (and underwear)

My favorite days are those spent in my underwear. Of course, most of the time, panties are paired with a tank and an oversized sweater I’ve stolen from someone I’m close to, like my mom, who is the usual victim. My favorite sweater is a cream, loose-knit pullover I rescued from the Goodwill bag in her room. The look is completed with a pair of glasses.

I wear this particular getup when I have nothing to do but sit at my dining room table with a cup of lukewarm coffee and write. I do my best thinking when I’m outfitted in such a way. My thoughts, like my legs, are free, and bare. The exhibitionism is exhilarating.

500 Days of Summer

Some thoughts...

1. Joseph Gordon-Levitt
2. Summer Finn's trademark blue ribbon (it brings our her eyes).
3. The jumbled time line. (I didn't like it at first but all the jumps came together in the end)
4. Joseph Gordon-Levitt and his dance to You Make My Dreams (Hall & Oates) the morning after.
5. How Amber and I were surrounded by couples. 500 Days is the perfect date movie...hopeful yet realistic. Some parts are cheesy and a little too earnest but Gordon-Levitt and Deschanel are good at being cheesy and earnest so it works.
6. The soundtrack. Because of Ben Gibbard's liaison with Deschanel, I expected Postal Service or Death Cab to contribute. However, I wasn't disappointed by the roster. (She & Him, Temper Trap, The Smiths, Regina Spektor, Hall & Oates, Carla Bruni, etc.)