Cookie Love

I've never been a fan of the "American Idol" franchise the way some of my other friends and family have been (Raymond and my dad, in particular). And much as I love music, rock has never been my favorite genre. But in my case, idle minds turn to "Idol" minds, and I found myself tuning into this year's competition... and actually rooting for someone - and a rocker, to boot!

My bet, David Cook, is the winner of American Idol season 7!

I would have voted for him via text if I could... not that he needed it, with a 12 million vote margin against runner up, tweener favorite and crooner-wanna be David Archuleta.

I started watching AI this season just to pass the time - and also because I was curious about the Filipina finalist Ramiele Malubay. But the Cookie soon emerged as my runaway favorite, catching my ear with his now-famous Mariah cover and finally making me a believer with his version of Neil Diamond's "All I Really Need is You."



David Cook, hands down, beats the rest of the playing field in stage presence and being a total performer. Archuleta, the Cookie's closest rival, is strong vocally, but as a performer still needs a bit of growing up to do.

While the Cookie was the pundits' clear favorite, the judges were particularly scathing to him during finals night. Coupled with the Little David's strong performance, it seemed as if Big David's AI hopes were down the drain. In fact, my friends and fellow Cookie fans and I were already consoling ourselves that maybe not winning the AI title would even be a good thing for him - less pressure and more freedom.

There are some speculations that the anti-Cookie sentiments from the judges were just put-on to add to the drama of the win. Nonetheless, drama or no drama, I really think David Cook deserved the title.

Besides, the final song was perfect for him - and is, hopefully, a hit waiting to happen. If "All I Really Need is You" will be on the album, I'm definitely going to be one of the first people standing in line to buy it. But even without it, my non-rocker self will probably get a copy anyway.

I should have thought of betting money against my dad - who predicted with impunity that it was the Arch that would triumph (he thought Cook was too cocky for his own good). I could have put the money into my must-have-these fund!

Did any of you watch the AI season 7 finale? And if so, who were you betting on, the Cookie or the Arch?



Go, David Cook!
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The Great Beefcake Festival (a.k.a. Why Women should give "300" a Chance)

I happened to unearth my DVD copy of 300 last night, and, because I had nothing better to do, I decided to watch this hard-core guy movie again for the third time (or is it the fourth?).

Hard to believe, as I was the lone voice of dissent when two of my best girl friends picked this to be our detox movie of the week when it first came out last year. From the reviews I'd heard, I knew that with its requisite blood, gore, and body count - it was eons away from my usual fare of neuroses-inducing romantic comedies or intelligent thrillers. I was completely befuddled by my friends' vehemence to see it, but so outvoted, I let them usher me into the theater like a lamb to slaughter.

And actually found myself glad that I did. But not just for the reasons you might think.

300 is a film adaptation of a graphic novel of the same title by Frank Miller starring Gerard Butler as the warrior-king Leonidas. It is based loosely on the Battle of Thermopylae, where 300 Spartan soldiers held off the might of a much larger Persian army coming to conquer the Greek nations. The outcome of this lopsided battle is a foregone conclusion, but the Spartan warriors' valor in this battle takes the fight out of the Persians, who eventually give up their plans of conquest.

Fearing this would be another incarnation of Gladiator, I was pleasantly surprised to find the movie had a completely different feel. The surreal rendering, done to stay as true as possible to the imagery of the graphic novel, made the violent battle scenes less gory and more palatable. There wasn't much room for three dimensional character development but the movie never made that promise from the start.

Besides, who really needed character development when there is so much eye candy to go around?

And the man-candy is definitely one good reason for why any living, breathing female should watch this film. Which, I discovered during our post-movie powwow, was my movie buddies' ulterior motive to begin with. (But they insist to this day that the story was still the primary draw - yeah, right.)

It was a veritable feast for the eyes. The actors playing Spartan warriors were one and all flaunting six-packs and well-defined chests and legs - because for reasons I cannot begin to fathom, all their fighting uniform consists of is a helmet, a cape, sandals and shin guards, and a leather codpiece. Great way for medical students to study the anatomy of the musculoskeletal system, I must say. Hurray for minimalism!

Don't get me wrong, being a fairly intelligent person, I didn't miss the point - you know, the one about courage against overwhelming odds, never surrendering, and so on. In fact, I even enjoyed the storytelling. The beefcake parade was a nice bonus, that's all I'm saying.

I don't know if there is a guy in existence who hasn't seen this uber macho flick, but for them, it's the blood and gore and super battle scences that make it worth the cost of the DVD.

But for the women out there who scratched this movie off their list when it first came out, I highly recommend taking it for a spin. Because, as my friend V bluntly puts it, "Sa dami ng mainit pandesal, kulang na lang ang palaman." ("With all the hot buns available, all one needs is the butter.")

Okay, enough said. :)

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Rickrolling Down Memory Lane

It's a testimony to how much time I've been spending on-line these days that I've been a victim of the Rickroll too many times for me to keep track of.

Not that I've minded it too much.

While many perpetrators of the latest huge internet prank are probably too young to remember Rick Astley's heyday, the sight of the hiralious dance steps, the big hair, and the high-waisted pants evoke in me a feeling of nostalgia. (Admit it, people, you all used to wear your hair and your pants this way, too!)

I was ten years old when Rick Astley's big voice first hit the Manila airwaves. At the time, I was just beginning to discover the joys of having my own set of cassette tapes to play on my own Walkman. Unfortunately, it was the late 80's - hardly a dignified era for the pop music scene.

While I did experience the tail-end of the New Wave music era, 80's pop music got its hooks into me pretty well. My preferences at the time ran to the ever-present Madonna, Debbie Gibson (whose songs I used to sing to with a hairbrush in front of our full-length mirror), Bananarama, Kylie Minogue, the Jets, and New Kids on the Block (I dare my elementary and high school classmates to deny their devotion to these guys!).

And, of course, there was good ol' Rick, whose songs I still - to my shame - know the lyrics to to this day.

Most music junkies have memories associated with the songs they grew up to, and for me Rick Astley's songs are no exception.

Those familiar big band vocals and distinctive Stock, Aitken, and Waterman beat brings to mind my first-ever trip to Baguio (My "Hold Me in Your Arms" cassette was among the few we took on the trip, and we played it whenever our car radio could not pick up broadcasts from any station); the silly dance-aerobics presentation we had for our fifth grade PE class (for which we used one of his songs), and, yes, watching quintessential Rick-Astley-wannabe Roderick Paulate singing and dancing to "Together Forever" on TV with my mom at home.

My musical tastes have broadened, matured, and hopefully improved over the past 20 years. But I confess there's a secret place in my present-day iPod for Rick Astley's greatest hits - as well as many of those old 80's pop ditties I grew up to but should have sent to some forgotten place to die. And, yes, believe it or not, there are days when this playlist still gets exclusive playtime while I am negotiating exasperating Manila traffic. Yes, singing and bopping to kitschy 80's pop music makes me less inclined to shoot the other traffic-causing idiots on the road.

I second this motion: given the influx of 80's acts into the Manila concert scene and the huge exposure he's getting from the Rickrolling phenomenon, it's high time someone brought Rick Astley to Manila. If I'm here, I just might splurge on a ticket and watch him do a live Rickroll - no tricks required. What can I say? I'm a fan, albeit a closet one (but not anymore! *LOL*).

To convince the skeptics and as a treat to the closet fans who are just dying to admit it, I'll leave you with the internet video sensation that has caught the world by storm - Rick Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up." That is, if you haven't been a victim and seen it for yourself! Won't this be awesome seen live?



On the other hand, if you're not up for a dose of Rickrolling fun - you should check out this great Muppets video instead.

Enjoy!

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A Good Year

In medical school, we are tyrannized by our surnames. Our names dictate who we work with, who we grow with, who we learn with for the duration of our stay there.

Just like family, medical students cannot choose their groupmates or their blockmates. We are forced to get along despite the crazy mix of personalities often thrown together haphazardly in order to survive the challenges of becoming a doctor. And, just like in any family, while we grow to love these people, we don't always necessarily have to like them.

Sometimes, though, some people hit the jackpot - and they find themselves with a group of people they couldn't have chosen better themselves.

We were among the lucky ones.

It's been three years since we've gone our separate ways. We've kept in touch sporadically at best and have been scattered across two continents, immersed in lives that are very different from one another. But we always look back on our last year as medical students with fondness because of what we brought to each other.

It was, without a doubt, a great year.

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Six

That's the number of times I have graduated in my lifetime.

Considering that I'm batting at twice the average rate, it's logical to assume I would view this occasion with a lot less sentimentality.

You would be wrong.

Graduations always evoke mixed feelings - a sense of accomplishment that you've completed another chapter, a sense of sadness that you will once more be leaving something behind that has become a big part of your life. There's a complicated cocktail of excitement and apprehension at the thought of an unknown future ahead. There are the inevitable goodbyes as you and the friends you've made reach another fork in the road.

Gratitude is one staple sentiment in every graduation. Occasions like these bring to mind the people who have helped you get to where you are today. It makes you realize that while you may have been the one to offer the proverbial "blood, sweat, and tears" that is the prerequisite to conquering any challenge, you still would not have made it this far without the support and understanding of the people you love.

In the Philippines, it is often said that becoming a doctor is a family project. A wanna-be-doctor goes to medical school at an age when he should already be helping pay the bills around the house. If he wants to train further (in the country), he will be going into a residency program that will pay him a sum that will barely cover his living expenses.

Life goes on for these doctors-in-training - and some will get married and have children at this point in their lives. Despite the growing financial demands of adult life, there really isn't much they can do to catch up.

So it's the families - the mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, (non-medical) wives and husbands - who willingly and lovingly take up the slack. They make up not just for our financial shortcomings but also for the emotional void we leave behind while we are working our asses off in the hospital, spending more time with our patients and our colleagues than those we love the most.

So tomorrow, graduation number six (number seven for the medical fellows!), we're going to take the time to say thank you to the people who have helped us, believed in us, and pushed us this far. We do not say it often enough - but thankfully, their kind of love understands without words.

(The following video is the reason why I haven't been able to blog regularly. :))



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Nostalgic

I just wanted to share this slide show I made for my batch on Windows Movie Maker (before I discovered the wonders of ULead).


Camera hams that we are, I think we've managed to document these past 3 years (the fun parts of it) in more than 5 GB of digital photos. I've assigned myself as chief compiler.

I hate goodbyes.

I'm really going to miss these guys.

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