Monday, May 26, 2008

teenage goddess























I intended to post about this movie after I marched through the wet, windy chill to the Loews of The Avenue at White Marsh in my McGuffian homage of hoodie, stripes and Chucks but after the age of sixteen and specially after a harsh introduction to winter, I had always been in some kind of funk during Decembers.

Oh well, I have the DVD now, naturally, for I love indies. I always somehow associate them with a contented state of unemployment which have, once upon a time, existed for me-- living at home, taking trips to Bacolod to buy my Lola's insulin then rent 3 free 1 laser discs at Quadtech.  

I was never this succinct of mind, words and spirit as Juno. I struggled with self-expression and my only decisiveness was not go without umbilical approval from my Nanay & Tatay. I had the pretty, developed teen-queen BFFs but had to ape as their personable but weird token friend whose behavior had to be explained by the cuter members of the clique to win the senatorial elections by a hair. I owed my popularity by being one of the few who gets driven to school. I may have been part of the in crowd because of family Volkswagen Brasilia, but I wish I was this cool enough not to give a fuck what people said. In college, oh boy, I was an amoeba not even known enough to be a reject. The only thing I could be proud of was how resolute I was to not become a cliche. Specially in the LaSalle School of Nursing.

My Torontonite sister tells me her curmudgeon co-worker and fellow Flip remarked, "Sana inangkin nya na lang yung bata tutal sila naman pala yung nagkatuluyan (She should have held on to the baby since she ended up with the father, anyway)," pertaining to the Ellen Page and Michael Cera characters. Pregnancy and marriage have never been options for me back in my Third World hometown let alone solutions. Books, films, music, education and Marc Jacob Sgt. Pepper jackets are and still is. 

By the way, this Penny Saver scene I swear seems like it's totally been shot at the park behind my sister's apartment in Vaughan Road even though the film was shot in BC. I also could definitely tell the film wasn't shot on US soil. The whole environment was too.. too.. well-adjusted to be American. Sorry, Jason Reitman.

So is living like a snarky sixteen-year-old Stooges and Patty Smith fan hiding from life? Should one feel less alive for not-so popular choices? Don't ask me. I'm still figuring it out. All I know is that it takes a certain amount of spine to stand by my shenanigans (just had to sneak the word in, hehehe). Honest to blog.


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