35 Movies That Instantly Make Your Day Better

Disagreed with some of the choices here, but what the hell. Will be going through this list when September comes. To quote my friend:
“YEEAAAAAAAAAAH!” (with matching jerky dance move)

Thought Catalog

1. High Fidelity

For me, any path to cinematic healing begins with Cameron Crowe. Unless you’re watching Elizabethtown, there’s almost no way to go wrong. I suggest you start with Almost Famous, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Singles or High Fidelity, the best movie he never made . If you watch this movie and don’t want to go out and be a better person, then I think your heart may have died.

2. Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion

Whether it’s Mean Girls, Clueless or Heathers, movies about high school always make you feel better about your own high school experience, because at least your boyfriend wasn’t poisoning all your friends. Romy and Michele is even better, because it’s about looking back and realizing you weren’t cool but you’re still awesome. It’s about having fun by doing your own thing.

3 – 4. Anchorman/Zoolander

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Stop Being So Afraid Of Loving Someone

Okay, now my TC reblogs are running the same theme. Already pointed this out before, but TC is rubbing salt to wounds that are not even supposed to be there. These articles make me cynical.

Thought Catalog

If the only things you knew about love were what you learned in romantic comedies, you would think that everyone was just waiting around to be in a burgeoning long-term relationship that you never actually see depicted onscreen.

In the movies, everyone is in love or falling in love or about to be in love, as soon as they drop that box of randomly assorted goods that a sex-haired guy with a cleft chin and hot guy cheeks is magically there to help them pick up. Neither of them will be ready for love until 90 minutes later, when they are finally ready and they can have a PG-13 kiss, the kind that will make the old women in the audience feel something in their wiggly bits without offending them. This isn’t Skins now.

I grew up on these movies and I thought that when I grew up, everyone would…

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51 Books You Should Read Before The Summer Is Over

Oh gosh. My already over-the-top reading list just got extended by a ton. It’s comforting to know that I’ll never run out of things to read when September comes.

Thought Catalog

Now that it’s August, we’ve reached the inevitable dog days of summer and that four-week decline before school and college starts and our regularly scheduled lives begin again. Whether you’re an undergrad or a 9 to 5er, the next month is do or die when it comes to your summer reading list — the last time to get caught up on the books you’ve been putting off (because your relationship with Netflix is very demanding).

Here’s 51 books you should cross off that reading list before the Summer ends and why you should read them. You won’t get to every single one, but surely you can fit in a couple. Orange is the New Black can’t take up that much of your time, can it? And if not, there’s always your Fall Reading List. That’s a thing, right?

1. Gone Girl by Gillian Flynngone-girl-book-cover

Because you want to have an…

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Of Intellectually Stimulating Talks and Lost Cause for Nationalism

A few days ago, I attended a talk titled Intellectual Property Management and Commercialization by Dr. Richard Cahoon, a big-shot IP person and former technology transfer officer from Cornell university (if I have my facts straight). It sounds snobbish and intelligent of me to express interest over, but in all honesty I just wanted to go because it was sponsored made possible by channeled through an org I joined (Intellectual Property Advocates – hypocritical of me, but that’s another story), and because a friend coaxed me into helping and attending. Oh, there’s also my resume, which upon closer inspection is marketing-oriented – I’ve been a publicity officer and currently a marketing one. This in itself is perfectly fine, if not for the fact that I’m a business management undergrad. But I digress. Again.

I get called in 30 minutes earlier than the allotted time (probably to help with participants’ registration) but I dawdle and get up 10 minutes later. I get there, and my friend tells me that I’ll sing the freaking Philippine National Anthem after the opening prayer. I honestly thought she was just pulling my leg – why would she put me on the spot like that?! But as it turns out, the original singer backed out the last minute and so she was hard-pressed into finding a replacement. Coincidentally, I was dressed up that day because I’d be participating in a panel discussion for one of my classes that day. I mentioned this to her the previous night, which I think added to her confidence in me being able to pull it off. Later on she admitted that she purposefully waited before telling me so I have no chances of backing out. Her methods were effective, if I may say so myself.

After getting over the initial shock, I tried practicing by humming the song and what not. In between I was still incredulous (I just came there to LISTEN, what the hell did she got me mixed up into), asking if perhaps she was jut messing with me. Somewhere in the last verse I realized I forgot the lyrics, which was mortifying, considering that I sang the same song for over a decade back in grade/high school. I was panicking already because I knew there were only a few minutes left before it’s my turn on the podium. I asked the other people there what the missing lyrics in my head were, but they were as clueless as me. The pressure built up because my college’s former vice dean approached me before the program and coordinated with what to do. After which, a professor (which I’d like to call in my head as ex-vice dean’s sidekick) pulled me aside and ran through what I’m supposed to do As a last-ditch effort, one of my friends made me approach a professor with a doctorate degree in Filipino (or something like that) while the opening prayer commences. Blame it on being asked out of the blue, on being caught off guard, or anything else – but he blanked out on me. I was singing to him repeatedly up to what point of the song I recall, waiting for him to fill me in on the lost lyrics, but he told me he couldn’t remember. The prayer was coming to a close, and I hear him hurriedly telling me what the lyrics were to the part we both forgot. And then I hear my name being called out.

I was still panicky, in fear of embarrassing myself to both students and faculty (and Mr. high and mighty international speaker), but there was nothing else to do rather than go up in front. I thought and hoped that there’d be accompaniment so my future blunder can be masked, but I ended up singing a cappella. I did well in singing the song, though when I recalled it later on I did commit some glitches (which I’d forever blame to nervousness). And then the dreaded last verse came; I was very thankful that I encouraged the audience to sing with me at the start, so by the end I ended up following their lead in those two lines that I could not for the life of me recall. I sounded as if I momentarily faltered and then picked up again in the last two lines of the song. Awkward transitioning to the ex-vice dean presenter (which involved him waving me off, and me taking it as a signal not to go on introducing him, but I’ve already started so I just continue), but that was expected (at least for me) when you find out about what is expected of you only a few minutes before you actually have to do stuff. All in all I ended up fine, but the situation wasn’t.

I was not okay with forgetting the lyrics to the Philippine National Anthem. Some might take it as a trivial issue, but it means more to me than just that. It left me a sinking feeling, that I pride myself as a Filipino yet I can’t even properly sing a historically significant song that should have been drummed in my skull already since kindergarten. The feeling worsened when the professor was unable to answer me; granted, he wasn’t a history expert, but with someone who made it his business to learn as much as he can about the Philippine language and culture, he should have known. Not that I was any better. Granted, he did redeem himself later on by “supporting” me – I was told that the professor sang rather loudly, probably trying to help me with my dilemma.

It’s easy to say that I love my country, and I’ve deluded myself into thinking that I do. But really, my actions speak for myself. Overall, I guess I was just disappointed with myself. Fitting to mention since this month is buwan ng wika (Filipino-language month).