The next American Idol will be declared in a few hours, and although Patty Lazatin may not speak to me again after she reads this, Jordin was always my bet. Now, this is particularly important for me because this is the first time since I started watching Idol that my bet has actually reached the finals! Of course, it would have been entirely different if it were three years ago when I was a nearly rabid fan of Camile, but I am nevertheless excited. It's strange though because I'm a Jordin fan, but I really wanted Melinda to win, if only out of respect to her immense talent. Melinda's skill--what I feel is a combination of the right genetic makeup and formal education (She had voice lessons and majored in music from Belmont University, which I think is known for its music program.)--placed her in a league of her own, and I kind of felt that it was an insult to her that she did not even get into the finale.
Anyway, what's done is done, and what I'm writing about isn't quite relevant at the moment. Jordin did really well tonight, though Blake charmed the audience enough, so while Jordin seems to have the edge...
...you never know.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Friday, May 04, 2007
Licensed to Wheel
I would like to take this opportunity to announce to you all that I, Ana Alcala of Quezon City, am now a licensed non-professional driver.
I must admit that I barely passed the exam, but I made it and even have one of those little green plastic thingies where one inserts his/her license and receipt to protect them from the elements. The practical exam was not smooth at all. The engine died twice, and the person conducting the exam jokingly warned me that I might end up having to take a retest if I don't redeem myself. To compound the situation, after successfully getting off the vehicle without injuring anyone, I had to take this "walk of shame" from the driving area to the waiting area where onlookers who have been observing me fumble with the clutch and shifting were free to watch me salvage whatever was left of my dignity. Of course, that could all have been part of my imagination.
One of the reasons why I find it important to have a license at my age (I'm turning twenty) is because I often imagine myself in Bruce Willis' situation in The Kid. I can now tell my 8 yr.-old self that I already have a license as planned. Of course, she would be disappointed to know that I am not yet a registered voter and nor have I grown any inch above 5 feet, but I can at least brandish my driver's license to her.
My father accompanied me to the LTO office and proudly told me that now that I have my driver's license, all I need is this tax number thing. I am of legal age, but I hardly qualify as such in my 7 yr.-old sister's eyes, so this license may serve as some proof to her that I really am 19 and not kidding about it. Oh, and there is also this head ache that I've been having for the past few days. Maybe that's a grown-up thing, too.
I must admit that I barely passed the exam, but I made it and even have one of those little green plastic thingies where one inserts his/her license and receipt to protect them from the elements. The practical exam was not smooth at all. The engine died twice, and the person conducting the exam jokingly warned me that I might end up having to take a retest if I don't redeem myself. To compound the situation, after successfully getting off the vehicle without injuring anyone, I had to take this "walk of shame" from the driving area to the waiting area where onlookers who have been observing me fumble with the clutch and shifting were free to watch me salvage whatever was left of my dignity. Of course, that could all have been part of my imagination.
One of the reasons why I find it important to have a license at my age (I'm turning twenty) is because I often imagine myself in Bruce Willis' situation in The Kid. I can now tell my 8 yr.-old self that I already have a license as planned. Of course, she would be disappointed to know that I am not yet a registered voter and nor have I grown any inch above 5 feet, but I can at least brandish my driver's license to her.
My father accompanied me to the LTO office and proudly told me that now that I have my driver's license, all I need is this tax number thing. I am of legal age, but I hardly qualify as such in my 7 yr.-old sister's eyes, so this license may serve as some proof to her that I really am 19 and not kidding about it. Oh, and there is also this head ache that I've been having for the past few days. Maybe that's a grown-up thing, too.
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