Labels

“Ownership. I hate being owned.”

– Count Laszlo de Almásy [when asked what he hates most], The English Patient movie

As much as I would like to stay away from anything labeled or tagged, I can’t. Everywhere I go or anywhere I look, there is always a tag or a name that describes a declaration of ownership. It makes me wonder at times why we really have to put our name on something, even on the obvious things that belong to us. How many times have we seen Panda ballpoint pens or Mongol pencils with the owner’s name on it? I also know some people who put a label on almost everything they own, even pirated DVDs. It’s practically stolen, why put your name on it?

I perceive labeling as a self-esteem generator. For the entire world to see, it would mean that this thing is his or hers and it’s better than theirs or yours. Labels invite judgment. It also signifies that we have lost trust on people and we have to make sure that no one would steal our precious properties. Talk about insecurities. It’s the highest form of ‘pambabakod’. But regardless of that, it still gets stolen anyway.

But when it comes to relationship labels (or statuses), the only tolerable thing would be the declaration of the Married status. It’s self-explanatory. We don’t want to mess with married people. But then again, there are people who let out this status as an advantage to getting what they want, like the I’m-Married-Take-It-Or-Leave-it statement. A disclaimer. If you cross the ‘bakod’ of morality, they think it’s not their fault but yours. So let’s not go there.

As for the Single status, it's even more complicated. There are no Single statuses anymore, it’s either you’re Single-Single or Single-In A Relationship (which is really more complicated). If one is technically single, why would that person put a limit on that status? Again, it’s another way of declaring ownership. This time the ‘property’ volunteers to tag himself/herself as that, for the benefit of the owner. Lucky owners. I envy them.

As for me, I have to live with all these labels. I cannot escape the tags and the statuses. I am even a walking label myself. I am Cat and I want to be your new owner.

© 2008 Cat Ramos

Big Fish

Big fish!

Nakatambay lang ako with my cousin Agnes sa tapat ng bahay namin kanina at around 8:30pm, kwentuhan, kulitan...when a group of men walked by. One was holding this huge fish. Being an opportunista like me, I asked if I could take a photo of him and that fish. And syempre kami rin pagkatapos. Hehe.

I asked where he bought the fish. He told us nahuli lang nila sa ilog malapit sa min. Wow!

It completed our weekend. =)

[story] Of Coke Light and Suicide

I almost committed suicide.

 

She broke up with me through a text message one night after a couple of weeks of silence that seemed a lifetime. How impersonal can she be? Very.

 

As soon as I got the message from my hand-me-down pathetic cellphone, the device that became the messenger of bad news on this lonely and rainy night, I went catatonic for 4 minutes more or less. Four has always been my favorite number, our anniversary day. We were supposed to celebrate our 4^th year this Saturday and it’s only Tuesday. Yet, I don’t think I will be able to endure another 4 minutes or so because of this stupid message. I read it again. I wished it was a forwarded message but it wasn’t because it had my name on it. It says, “Joey, it’s over. I’m moving on.” I hate text messages.

 

Moving on, moving on, my ass. My head was spinning and the stairway seemed twisted. Or was it my mind? The 2 weeks we were not together made me think about unthinkable things, that is, committing suicide or at least pretend that I tried. She would give me the attention, at least. I realized that this was the best time to do it.

 

The stairs was a good suicide weapon; I can jump from the second floor of my apartment to the in-between floor of the second and ground floor that I share with my kuya who is obviously not home from work yet and most probably still doing some overtime work at Obertaym (a beerhouse near his office). I call it the ‘half floor’. I thought of myself falling down the flight of stairs and landing in front of the altar which is situated on the half floor. Not a good idea. It was an altar with all the religious ornaments my mother gave us when my brother and I moved in here a year ago. My parents retired and had to sell the house because it was too big for us. They’re now in our hometown in Bulacan. My mom even decorated the makeshift altar with flickering electric candle that illuminated the whole of the half floor. No, I cannot bear the guilt of my mother crying over his dead son who committed suicide in front of her precious altar. Thinking about the cherubic face of the Sto. Niño was also too unbearable. So I scrapped the idea. Besides, I never pictured myself dead with broken bones or crushed skull because I am a Nido boy and I love milk. It’s always been my habit to drink milk before I go to bed at night. I am proud to say that my mom has nourished us well. So much for my years of drinking milk, my teeth and bones are healthy, so a fall from a flight of stairs will just simply fail my suicide attempt. Failure is an enemy of mine especially now.

 

Maxine, the girl who brutally broke up with me thru text has been my girlfriend for 4 years and live-in partner for 2 months (during the first 2 years of our ‘mature’ relationship) suddenly went cold on me a month ago. No more sweet mushy text messages in the morning, no more after office meet-ups, and most of all, no sex. Or anything that resembles it. It just went dead. So I investigated, made friends with her friends. I hate half of them because they make fun of my ever procrastination on taking the bar exam, which I have a good reason why I had to pend it twice. First, I was admitted to a multinational company that pays big bucks (to my own standards) because they made me the head of a department there, to my surprise. Maybe because I was a rookie and higher salary expectations was not my priority at that time but just experience. Or perhaps the seniors quit a month before due to early retirement or should I say retrenchment that’s why they hired me. I was lucky. Besides, attending meetings and brainstormings sounded so executive and would definitely look good on my CV. I was a manager at age 24. Second, I wanted to focus on my new found relationship at that time which was more important to me then than taking the bar. Like a good career flourishing and love budding, one of these so-called priorities for a bachelor like me was bound to take a backseat. I was promoted a month ago with the prestigious title, Assistant Vice President. And as for my relationship, go figure. But I still made friends with her friends anyway.

 

Clutching my cellphone while going downstairs, there was flashback on why the relationship went down the drain. She was already seeing someone who works near her office building. I was too busy to notice at that time. Young executives are busy, aren’t they? It was a new guy according to one of her not-so-loyal girl friends who spilled it all out after 2 cups of Starbucks frappuccino. She sold her soul to the devil. The new boy was a college preppy boy, from a new breed of graduates who would rather work in the call center business because of the easy money and they get to practice their English hoping to correct their coño twang. The guy worked there. Which brings me to remember why she suddenly had to always stay in the office until 12 midnight because she had to take care of everything in the office (or beside the office building she’s working, I know that now). The boy was clearly someone who’s into older girls like Maxine, 4 years senior than him. He liked her because she can take care of him. I bet the guy had a pretty rough childhood, maybe lost a parent or two given his preference over older women like my Maxine. Maxine loves taking care of everything, our MRT cards, stray animals such as cats, and even plants. She’s pretty much like my mother or Mother Theresa. If she wanted to feel maternal, she should’ve gotten herself a dog. Let me rephrase that. If she wanted to feel maternal, she should’ve asked me to marry her and we’ll help each other in pro-creating our mini-mes. I don’t know what’s wrong with this statement. But I do not want to dwell on that right now because I am too busy (again, busy) about thinking of the best way to leave this cruel world.

 

So there I was, on the ground floor, barefooted. I did not bother turning the light on because it would be useless, I would be dead in a few minutes anyway. It would be nice if my brother comes home drunk and hurries to switch on the light and finds me on the floor, lying dead. It’s way better than a birthday surprise party. Surprise! I wish I would be able to see his reaction when he finds me but that would be defeating the purpose. Death is a dead-end street. That’s why there’s ‘dead’ in dead-end. And ‘end’ as well. Excuse my over analysis but if you’re planning to die, everything is magnified.

 

I thought of going to the kitchen and look for anything pointed, err, like knife. Fork doesn’t do enough damage, or chopsticks. So knife was the best option. I saw a couple of them near the sink, just hanging above. It was 4 or 5 knife pieces (if you count the potato peeler) and it all came in different shapes and sizes. I picked out the Sumo knife. I remember this knife being advertised on the home shopping network. My brother bought it there. Other people call this a butcher knife which brings me to not liking this anymore. I am not a cow. Or a bull. Or a pig. Or a chicken. I want to have some pride when I die. So I picked out another option. The bread knife. It’s small with little teeth on the edges. If I slice this on my wrist, surely it would result to uneven scars. I don’t like uneven scars on my body parts. It would seem I struggled and that is not the way to die with dignity. It should be peaceful and calm. Knives are out of my options right now. Besides, I never liked blood that’s why I went to law school instead of medical school.

 

It was getting late at 9 pm for me. I had the urge to text her back and tell her to reconsider. But I have been like that in the past and she would always give in. I think the chances of her doing the same thing again for me is nil. It would be different from now on. So I did not bother. I turned off my cellphone instead.

 

I paced the kitchen back and forth, not knowing what to do next. I got thirsty so I decided to look for something refreshing inside the refrigerator. I wanted a Coke Light, which was almost phased out in the market. Coke Zero was available on the ref. I ignored it. I have always preferred Light over Zero because of packaging. It may sound shallow but Coke Light looks and tastes heavenly to me while Coke Zero looks evil with all its black and red packaging. If I plan to die tonight, I might as well turn away from anything evil. That would give me sort of an immunity to go straight to heaven. San Pedro would be happy at least that I chose the heavenly-packaged soda in white can over the dark tempting one.

 

With no Coke Light in sight, I decided to eat just an apple which I found on the dinner table. Again, that would be evil. Adam, Eve. I don’t want to be another Adam again. I read somewhere that a certain amount of apple seeds are poisonous if you grind the seeds, take out its juice, and consume it within a period of seconds or minutes. The result would be lethal. I only have one apple on hand and doing grocery at this time is a bad idea plus we don’t even have a juicer. So, apple seeds are out of the question. Besides, why should dying be that hard? And why would falling out of love be that hard too?

 

I am now in confusion if suicide is really for me. I never thought that self-inflicted death would cure this feeling of emptiness and lonesomeness. I know I’ve made some lapses in the past during my times with her. I loved my work, I wanted to be successful, I wanted to impress her. I had to sacrifice a lot of supposed quality times with her but work came first or was simultaneously hand-in-hand with my relationship with her. I was unable to handle it or it’s just that someone came along to be with her during my absence. Maybe she wanted spontaneity from our routine. He was that intermission number or advertisement from our unending soap opera. I didn’t want to end it this soon but I know at the back of my mind (and heart) that our time together is over. I kept on delaying the closure that was supposed to come from a broken relationship. And the text message she just sent me was it. I cannot argue about it anymore.

 

And as I compromise with my suicide plan, I thought of the antibacterial cleaning agent inside the bathroom. A Lysol. I went inside and found the bottle, it was half-empty (or half-full?). I think it was enough for me to do what I had to do. Through this liquid, I would be cleansed with all my sorrows once I consume it. It may not be as strong as a Baygon pesticide or not as gory as slashing my wrist with a knife but this was the ultimate weapon for me. It’s fuss-free and uncomplicated. Consume and assume you’re dead right after.

 

So I sat on the bathroom floor and reached out for the bottle. I sniffed it and it smelled floral. It calmed me. I checked the faucet if it has running water and just in case I wouldn’t be able to take the taste of the Lysol, I could spit it out on the sink and drink water from there. I wanted to make sure that I have a back-up. The moment came and I was determined to drink it down. Whatever happens to me, whether I become successful with my suicide or not, it depends on this Lysol. Lysol would give me the answer. I will just worry about the outcome later.

 

I turned on my cellphone again and composed a text message for her.

 

“I know it’s over. Goodbye.”

 

I gulped down the liquid from its bottle. I felt dizzy right away. Darkness and silence.

 

Darkness.

 

Silence.

 

Still more darkness and silence.

 

I think I’m dead. I said to myself. I began to smile.

 

“He’s awake! Nurse!”

 

That’s my mother.

 

Oh no.

 

--the end--

 

© 2008 Cat Ramos

“21”

I am back with my old self. It just scares me but I'm glad at the same time.

After my Rule of 21 discipline over a week ago, I realized I just stopped caring. I stopped overanalyzing. I no longer dwell on things from the past. My mind shifts to blank whenever I think about the could’ve beens and should’ve beens. I think I’ve just hypnotized myself to not give a damn on anything that can harm my living in the present mode. I’ve brainwashed myself. 

The Rule of 21 was mentioned in a book called “The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari” by Robin Sharma. But basically, that was just a reference. It’s a philosophy that can be applied on anything you want to achieve or get rid of. A conversation with a friend mentioned this rule one night when I asked him for an advice about something I cannot directly disclose here.

Me: I just contacted ___ again.

Him: Why is that?

Me: I don’t know. I just did. It was spontaneous.

Him: You’re pathetic.

Me: And you’re not?

Him: At least I don’t act it out.

Me: At least I don’t repress my feelings.

Him: Just stop.

Me: I can’t go on living each day bothered that there are people who doesn’t like me anymore or maybe has a grudge on me. 

Him: You’re not Miss Congeniality.

Me: That’s a relief. I can be Miss Photogenic then.

Him: You’re changing the topic.

Me: Ok, so I did contact ____ today. But zero response.

Him: See…

Me: And I feel terrible.

Him: Just stop.

Me: I can’t. At least I tried. I don’t want to sleep at night with hanging questions in my head. So what should I do?

Him: Rule of 21.

Me: What’s that? No, I don’t gamble. I don’t play cards well.

Him: (annoyed) It’s not a card game.

Me: So it means I’ll do the first 20 rules? You know I don’t follow rules that well.

Him: (surprised) You really don’t know the Rule of 21?

Me: Obviously. Just tell me.

Him: I thought you’re smart.

Me: Please stop the side comments and get straight to the point. Grrr.

Him: I was just kidding, I’m surprised that you don’t know about it.

Me: Di na ko magkwento sayo.

Him: Ok. For 21 days, avoid ___ at all cost. If ___ contacts you, ignore. If ___ emails you, throw it directly into the trash. Create a rule in your inbox that would automatically identify it as junk. If ___ texts you, delete it without reading.

Me: ____’s not even talking to me. So why would ___ contact me.

Him: You’ll see. ___ will contact you. And when that happens, you won’t even care. I assure you.

Me: What else?

Him: That’s it.

Me: That sounds stupid. Why would I do this anyway?

Him: To let go of unimportant things.

Me: You’re right. I’m just stubborn. I just want to make up for some things I should’ve done then.

Him: After 21 days, you’ll feel better. I promise.

Me: I‘m not convinced. You’re just making it up.

Him: Google it.

Me: (I did google it and found matches) So it’s true. Hehe.

Him: Hay.

Me: Ok I’ll do it then. When can I start?

Him: Tomorrow as Day 1.

Me: Until August ____?

Him: No, the day after.

Me: Oh.

--end of conversation—

So I did do it. And my friend predicted it perfectly. The subject contacted me within the 21 days and it was tempting for me to answer back as if I cared a lot. However, I didn’t follow my friend’s advice to ignore this person completely because I didn’t want to be rude. So I just compromised with being civil when I answered back.

I don't care about anyone that much anymore. I live my day for today unlike before that I live with the past, the memories, and the thought of making it better by doing it differently. I focus on myself more this time around and am indifferent with people who don’t give a damn about me. It feels good. Mahirap kasing mabilanggo sa mga bagay o tao na akala natin ay may importansya sa mga ginagawa natin, yun pala wala naman. Marami talagang namamatay sa maling akala.

I know I may have hurt some feelings last time, I felt guilty about some actions I’ve made and words I’ve said to people who cared for me at one point. But now, I just have to let it go and not be trapped with the thought of undoing things just to make them feel better. I know they have moved on with their lives already so I’m doing just the same. We should be happy even if we cannot share that happiness together.

My Rule of 21 has ended but I’m living it everyday. Beyond Day 21.

© 2008 Cat Ramos

The Mob Gives Me Comfort and Why

“As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster.” – Henry Hill, Goodfellas

As far back as I can remember, I am amused with anything mobster. Most especially with mobster movies. With my profile as a single young woman living and working in the city, it’s easy for anyone to stereotype me as someone who’s more into Julia Roberts-romantic-comedy-kind-of-movies.   Not that I am against it, it just doesn’t fit me. I can never be at My Bestfriend’s Wedding but rather at Don Vito Corleone’s daughter’s wedding.

That’s just how it is.

Thanks to Coppola and Scorsese (to name a few), I am brainwashed with memorable scenarios and lines from their movies, which gives me insight to my dilemma at times. My dad should be given credit for this too. He used to rent this kind of movies in Betamax / VHS tapes way back. Now we have all the DVD versions of these films, which can only mean one thing, I can watch it over and over again. So much for my mom screaming at me because of our rising electrical bill. But that’s not our topic.

Right now, I'm running down some of the best lines from my all-time favorite mobster movie, The Godfather. It’s practically my bible whenever I want to have clarity on something. It may be weird to you, but if you’re down and confused, The Godfather can never refuse.

Not in particular order. Ok, ok, I jumbled it a little bit based on experience. Yeah. 

Rejection

“Mr. Corleone never asks a second favor once he's refused the first, understood?” – Tom Hagen, The Godfather

One of the main reasons why I’ve never been blunt about asking for favors because I’m uneasy about being rejected. It is true for most of my relationships, be it long-term or short-term. It’s simply like this, “Kung ayaw mo, wag mo. (Pero humanda ka rin pagkatapos. Hehe.)”  Mismo.

Hope

"I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse." – Don Vito Corleone, The Godfather

Minus the gun pointing on one’s head, this line translates to me that anything in this world is possible. Better yet, if a woman tells this to her object of affection, we know what that means. But I don’t use this a lot although this may come in handy someday.

Revenge

"It's a Sicilian message. It means Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes." –Clemenza, The Godfather

I am actually consoled by this particular scene in the said movie where raw fishes are wrapped in paper and sent to the Corleones. It gives me an idea that I can even send a subtle message to the guys (who rejected me in their own little way, thankyouverymuch) without me being so straightforward. At least I have options.

Note: Yeah, I get rejected too.

Moving On

"Leave the gun. Take the cannoli." – Clemenza, The Godfather

This is probably one of the best lines from the film because it can translate into any given situation. I remember this line too from "You've Got Mail" movie where Tom Hanks cited this to Meg Ryan over the phone (or through chat?). With my current state of mind (and emotions), I'm interpreting this as moving on with what's ahead in the future instead of dwelling on the past, the bad past. Besides, who doesn't like anything sweet? That's why I’m taking the cannoli instead.

We all have different ways of coping whenever an emotional conflict gets on our way. Some people resort to friends over a cup of coffee and let it all out. Others write (I do, obviously) or do anything creative to take the mind off the confusion even for awhile. As for me, I do some marathons. Mobster movie marathons. It’s practically fool-proof for me, I always get better. After all these years, with happy moments and heartbreaks switching in between, I found my own little friend through these movies.

Besides, you will never sob, when you love the mob.

© 2008 Cat Ramos

Nothingness and More

And now on the topic of nothing to write about.

My life seems to be in a happy, jolly state right now so I think I’ve reached the dead end of writing something interesting. No confusion, no dilemma, no emotional tug-of-war that seems to be occupying my whole being in the first and almost second quarter of this year. I’m acknowledging that I’ve turned into a boring person lately but it’s not a problem really so I’m moving on to this subject regardless of its triviality.

With nothing to blog, to write, to ponder, to whine, to care (oh really) about, I’ve decided to alter my day-to-day rituals into other variations. This is sort of like a New Year’s resolution but it’s accomplished already or still in the process of doing it. Plus June is fast approaching; a half-year status report on my life’s progress would be a good topic to work on. Bear with me. If you’ve read this far, then proceed to the succeeding paragraphs. Otherwise, abandon this now because this is getting boring, even I can feel it. My writing sucks today. Just a few of my nothingness list begins here:

1. My favorite FX shuttle terminal near Shangri-La Makati has been relocated so I had to find an alternative ride after work. I now take the jeepney these days. I like it better since I love long trips and sight-seeing. Ok, I’m exaggerating this part. Financially speaking, it’s better by a few pesos.
2. Prior to my FX shuttle commute days, I ride a regular-metered taxi on my way home. Not anymore. I offset my cab fare to my snack break expenses. My snack break usually consists of a Chocquick hot chocolate drink and V-Cut Potato Chips bought from your friendly neighborhood Mini Stop Convenience Store which I think will topple Jollibee or Starbucks in terms of number of branches (yes, Starbucks, ang dami na eh). I rarely take snack breaks before, now I do.
3. I seldom watch movies in theater now. Not to mention the scarcity of a movie buddy that digs my kind of movies, my theater houses of choice have been cruel to my 150-peso budget. They are now charging an average of 170 bucks per movie. Rockwell and Greenbelt 3, I hate you…for now. But babawian ko kayo pag naging Makati Senior Citizen na ko, aaraw-arawin ko kayo dahil it’s gonna be free in Makati. Oh yeah!
4. I wear a black eyeliner lately. Nothing really, I just had to write it down. Maybe because I’m a punk princess.
5. I stopped watching TV all together for the past 3-4 weeks now. I hardly ever read the papers nowadays. With me being a visual person and always affected with what’s going on in the world, disasters here and there, I really don't know how to take bad news that well. It stresses me out and it makes me sleepless at times. I’m abandoning it for the meantime until more good news comes along. I’m not sure when.
6. I’ve stopped communicating with a friend whom I used to consider as a worth-keeping friend in the past year. I’ve decided to disconnect any tie that binds us together just a couple of weeks back. My reason? I have no “fair-weather friend” criteria in my circle of friends. Therefore, there is no room for this person.
7. I’ve been watching too much Ghost Hunters on YouTube that it makes me so wary about possible ghostly encounters in our home. Our TV turned on and off for no apparent reason one time and it’s actually one of my reasons why I also stopped watching TV (as written in my no. 5 entry here). Haha.

Oh anyway, this is really getting long and boring already. My mind suddenly went blank or maybe I was just hurrying up to finish this piece because it's getting late and the topic of ghosts is brought up, unintentionally.

Or maybe this piece is just boring.

Yawn! Zzzzzzz.

© 2008 Cat Ramos

Lomomanila together with Bonifacio Global City presents LOMOVISIONS

On Display at Bonifacio High Street

May 9-31, 2008

Participating members :

Jolo Santos, Kitkat Rodrigo, Liane Ng, Jennie Castillo, Faye Marcos, Sherwin Tolentino, Maico Gravidez, Jim Abao, Patricia Faytaren, Gabby Cantero, JC Gepte, Ginomatic Arcinas, Angelo Gian De Mesa, Burton Raya, Chino San Diego, Christian Carolino, Guiki Espina, Ian Calalang, Lorenz Visco, Rossy Yabut, Tin Ang, Glai Jacinto, Bryan james mandario, Renel Macapagal, Ron Cruz, Rollie Valenzuela, Zel Zalamea, Kharen Santia, Romer Aguirre, Corn Agudera, Jonas Asistio, Jed Quiambao, Bibay Cordero, Oliever Talusan, Olive David, Honey Marcos, Eric Belbis, Valerie Tenorio, Joven dela Cruz, Francis Inton, Thea Napa, Tara Almario, Edgar Allan Yap, Chris Yambing, Alex Ezequiel, Mariel Sunit, Michelle Dellota, Che Evangelista, Eugene Fabian, Marge Francia, Jimmy Hilario, Bam Cocjin, Dennis Pagulayan, Jun Marcelino, Lawrence Bersales, Mark Domingo, Lianne Bacorro, Charissa Dumaraos, Mon Guinto, Bong Rojales, Ian Roxas, Risa Halaguena, Fozzy Castro, Chips Dayrit, Cat Ramos, Jill Lejano, Gab Cheekee, Pam Pastor, Jason Magbanua, Giff Ricarte, Ruby De Vera, Chrissie Capicoy, Felice Capicoy, Francis Gaerlan, Ian Ysip, Caloy Soliongco & Richard Remulla

* digital photo by rossy yabut
* text by bong rojales

Here are my 3 photos that got included in the lomowall:


Visit na sa Serendra! =)

Of Cars and Dreams

I just bought a new Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution X more than a week ago. It’s red and shiny. And it’s now parked on top of my favorite shelf at home.

I still do not have a car (that is bought with my own money) but I have a car collection. I may have given you the wrong idea about this but when I say ‘car’, it’s a diecast car, a smaller version of the real thing. First, I need to give you a background about this passion of mine.

The movie “The Fast and the Furious” and its succeeding sequels provided me interest on cars but it never really provoked my desire to collect then. Maybe because it was overshadowed by my love for Vin Diesel and Paul Walker (who played their roles like true racewar drivers) at that time. I started collecting seriously when I had finally completed watching the Initial D anime series sometime last year on DVD. I did not want it to end that soon so I needed more. I realized I couldn’t watch it over and over again. Otherwise, my social life would be dead. With the Internet being a best friend of mine, I became engrossed in researching anything about it and if I could buy something with Initial D on it, it could probably cure my Initial D complex. I was wrong. I started googling for any memorabilia I could find and voila! There are diecast versions of the cars from the series. And so the hunting began.

Toy Kingdom and other toy stores have been my sanctuary during the first few months of my buying frenzy. The cars were hard to find way back. I was a late bloomer when it came to that, I admit. The car I wanted to get hold of the most was the series character Ryosuke Takahashi’s Mazda RX-7 FC3S. I accidentally found the last stock at SM Toy Kingdom in Makati during my first 2 weeks of hunting; it was a diecast with a scale of 1:64 (a little bit larger than a Matchbox or a Tomica). No more other Initial D cars left because the Initial D phase has passed. They say I got lucky maybe because I was a newbie collector. Buena mano. My first few collections were in bigger scales of 1:24 (size is a little smaller than an average landline phone unit, to give you an idea) and I completed the four cars that were featured in the anime series in a month’s time because the stocks for this scale were still available at most department toy stores. These cars were: Toyota AE86 Trueno, Mazda RX-7 FD3S & FC3S, and Nissan Skyline GT-R32. I was happy and unable to stop looking for more. I got hooked.

The web was a nice place to shop (at first) and it was a good thing that there was Ebay Philippines already. I had a chance to buy a yellow Toyota Trueno (not from the series) through ebay.ph from a fellow diecast collector who also introduced me to a diecast collection association here in the country, I did not know that we had one here. I joined Diecast Car Collectors of the Philippines (DCPh) last July 2007 and I’ve learned a lot from the group by browsing or transacting through the group’s online forum and attending the quarterly swapmeet (which I consider as a haven for diecast, by the way) whenever I have the chance. Through this group, I’ve made a lot of collector friends and acquaintances, also my growing number of collections do not evolve around Initial D alone anymore but on other Japanese cars as well because I’ve completed the main six cars featured in the series in scale 1:64. This group also helped me expand my items. However, there are still remaining ‘holy grails’ that I have to find and the excitement of hunting is a motivation for me to continue collecting.

As of this date, I have approximately 100+ car items on my shelf and storage boxes. I collect Japanese cars that are tuned or used for drifting, similar to the cars featured in “Tokyo Drift” and yes, Initial D. Mostly bought, some given in RAOK (Random Act of Kindness) by my fellow group members and friends. At first it was a bit intimidating to meet other collectors who have vast collections. Being a newbie like me, it cannot be helped to feel insecure with my small collection and limited knowledge on cars. Being a female is also one thing because like some cars, female diecast collectors are rare. But the collectors have been supportive to me and I'm grateful for the encouragement.

Most people do not really understand this hobby of mine. If it were dolls, I bet they would appreciate it more. But with cars? Well, it takes a lot passion to be involved in this kind of hobby. They say it’s a waste of money and does not really fit my profile because I’m already an adult and do not have kids to share it with yet. But I do not really mind because it brings me unexplainable joy whenever I buy something uncommon or new, not to mention I’m forever a kid at heart. It just gives me something to look forward to in the future and who knows, this dream may even result to the real thing. So I never stop collecting.

Got my drift?

© 2008 Cat Ramos

My Lomo Photos @ Digital Photographer Philippines Magazine

A few of my lomographics have been included in the latest issue (Issue 19) of Digital Photographer Philippines (DPP) magazine. The issue features "The Art of the Plastic Fantastic - Lomography". I just had to document it here on my blog since I am guilty of stacking reading materials (magazines included) and forgetting about it when a new one arrives. Good thing I know how to operate a flatbed scanner, I can make electronic copies of it.

With me being a lazy lomographer and switching from film-digital-film-whatever, the results of some of the shots, well, I consider as chamba-wamba. I am flattered that some of my photos have been included in the DPP mag, a publication I consider almost like an "in-flight" magazine for photographers and photo enthusiasts. It's quite intimidating for a photo hobbyist like me but I learn a lot from the magazine.

The 2 images on the left were featured in the Reader's Gallery. The photo with lights was taken at EDSA sometime October 2007 at around 2:00 am. While the photo with STOP was taken near my office in Makati, lunch time, on my way to buy food at one of those jollijeep stalls. Wala lang talaga ako magawa minsan.

There's also a short description on the person who took the photos (I wrote the photographer's profile, actually. Hahaha! But of course they edited some lines), it reads:

Photographer: Cat Ramos
Cat Ramos is a self-proclaimed lomographer. She admires lomography because she finds the images similar to the look and feel of her favorite Wong Kar Wai movies - improvised, nostalgic, and spontaneous. Her day job as a specialist in the field of systems, methods and procedures doesn't stop her now from shooting with her LC-A lomo camera.

Another photo of mine (the one with geometric patterns below) was also included in the lomo love article of the magazine. It's the roof of the underpass in Makati Ave. and Allied Bank.

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You may view the images in their original files here:

• EDSA 2:00 am
• STOP
• Underpass Roof

Thanks for looking!

DPP Mag cover photo by: Burton Jay Raya

PS. Thanks to Bong Rojales, Aly Reyes, and Jay Jallorina for the encouragement (lomos and DPP) Cheers!