Punk Eye  

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Honey you can wash my windows any day.
It is often said that a person's eyes are the windows to the soul. If that's true, then my soul needs some serious heavy duty window washing right now.

For two straight days I have been "down with the sickness" (say that with a growl). Those who I've told about my uncanny ability to get sick at some of the most opportune and convenient times will be able to appreciate the irony of my current situation: I honestly want to go to work but I can't because I happen to have conjunctivitis. Acting has never really been my strong suit but I sometimes do get away with it.

No, seriously, this one's real. I went to work the other night and they sent me home less than an hour later because apparently, I posed the risk of infecting everybody in the office with pinkeye. Now I am quarantined at a safe house, whose location is highly classified. In other words, I'm stuck at home again.

I honestly had no intentions of posting today, but since I was so abso-fucking-lutely bored I decided to go ahead and write anyway. After all, what's a blog without rants, right? So forgive me if this post seems less interesting than a Jinggoy Estrada movie. My red, swollen, pus-encrusted eyes are tired of staring at the screen all day. 

Boy do I need a life.

Harry Potter and the Magic Tofu  

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So believe me when I say that this is a compliment - Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows wasn't as big a disappointment as I thought it would be. 

I got out of work this morning and was pleasantly surprised when my friend and colleague Jie told me that one of our other co-workers, Elmer, was asking if we wanted to go see the latest installment of the Harry Potter movie series. So we went, and were part of the crowd that gathered early at the cinemas waiting to see the much anticipated movie. I have to say, apart from the usual bad casting of characters and the expected departure from the storyline, this movie didn't do so bad. 

Not the scene I was talking about.
There was this scene though that really bothered the behjeezus out of me. Ron had just left the group after a heated and horcrux-infused verbal tussle with Harry, and Hermione was obviously distraught. In an effort to cheer her up, Harry took her by the hand, led her up and danced with her inside their tent. I seriously don't remember reading this part of the book, where Harry danced like a faggot at a fricking gay pride parade. Once that scene hits Youtube I'll post it on my Facebook, just to make you guys laugh out loud. I've got nothing against the gay population, by the way. So please do not misquote me. 

I sincerely liked that scene though, where Hermione obliviated her folks to make them forget that they even had a daughter. It was very touching. 

Speaking of touching, Emma Watson looked oh so stunning. That scene where the horcrux-locket went berserk and showed Ron its corrupted version of Harry and Hermione kissing made me think about whether they did that scene entirely with computer animation or if they actually shot a scene with Emma Watson and Daniel Radcliffe and just edited it. Either way, evil Hermione was h-o-t.

And the trend of badly miscasted characters continued. If you thought Professor Slughorn didn't look the part in the last embarrassment of a movie, wait until you see the actors that played Rufus Scrimgeour and Pius Thicknesse. If you've read the book more than seven times like me you'll know what I mean.

Thankfully, Dobby's death was just as I imagined it would be. Rest in peace dear Dobby, a free house-elf. Just between you and me Jie, I did cry. Don't tell anyone. 

So after the movie we ate, and this plate of tofu magically appeared at our table. As if some wizard conjured it up from nothing, which incidentally violates one of the basic wizarding laws. 

Tofu, anyone? Anyone?
I can't wait to see how well they'll do the Battle of Hogwarts. Epic or bust. Here's to waiting out another few months for the completion of the Harry Potter film series. Wingardium Leviosa!

Counting Trains  

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I'm posting this now, before all my braincells stop working. I just feel too tired to write right now. Say it again, "write right". Boohoo. 

Yesterday, a friend of mine celebrated her birthday. It was fun, for the most part, and it became sort of a mini-reunion for me and one my fallen colleagues. The place was near a train station, and all the revelry was held just a few feet from the tracks. No kidding, anybody who's seen Final Destination would have thought twice about sitting with us that afternoon. Every now and then, a commuter train would zip past us with horns blaring and we wouldn't have a care in the world. It was a peculiar sight, now that I think about it, to see a table full of party-goers at such an odd and potentially dangerous location. Maybe I really do love living on the edge. 

Not the actual location, but close enough.
Train after train passed by, and the heavy shower that drenched us hardly dampened our festive spirits. I watched as passengers and onlookers stared quizzically at us while we were throwing back glass after glass of ice-cold beer. I seriously would've stayed longer if not for the fact that I had to go to work later that night. 

Yes folks, you heard right. I - the beer-guzzling gorilla from China - walked away from a party because I had to go to work. Can you believe it? 

Can you spell "self discipline"

The Binchee, The Captain, and The Love.

Click START  

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And so the ride on this wonderful happy train continues, although somehow the journey does not feel like an entirely joyous one.

Next week marks the start of me taking on new responsibilities at work, and while I humbly appreciate the trust and confidence that the powers that be have on me, I could not help but feel that this happy bullet came with a rather bitter pill to swallow. 

As much as I would like to celebrate and write my name in the sky with fireworks, I can't. This blog may be fueled by witty sarcasm and powered by pure, unadulterated euphemisms, but I am completely and totally sincere about how I feel towards my friends. You see, while this faithful soldier was promoted to lieutenant, others were relegated to the sidelines. Others still, face an unknown fate. What I'm trying to say is that a personal victory feels so empty when your colleagues are unable to share in your triumph. 

It's like LeBron James winning the MVP award, while he and the rest of the Cavs watch the Lakers win the championship. 

I know I sound awfully selfish in this post, so please forgive me folks. I just had to let this out or else, I would've absolutely gone nuts trying to scream inwardly. For those who are reading this (thank you!) but are not part of, or are not aware of the holocaust that I am implicitly trying to refer to in this piece of trash (thank you still!), I also ask for your forgiveness. There has simply been too many personal issues in my life right now that I felt the urgent need to pull my wand out, take these memories from my head, and dump them all into my digital pensieve. 

The seventh Harry Potter movie's coming out this month. Like, I know, right?

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Stories from the Simian Crease by Binchee is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Philippines License.
Based on a work at binchee.blogspot.com