The Key of G

March NUDI Night- Marine Life Portraits

2011-03-25T12:29:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, some diving friends of mine set up a group called NUDI, which stands for Network of Underwater Digital Imagers. Nudi is also short for nudibranch, a kind of sea slug which is a favorite subject of underwater photographers. The main regular activity of the group is NUDI night, a photo competition held every month. There's a theme per month, and for March, it was Marine Life Portraits. Basically this meant a photo of an animal which shows its face and highlights its expression. This was my entry, a blenny peeking out of a coral. I chose it because the fish looks like it's smiling. It won fourth place in the compact category.

Waiting for the supermoon at Punta Fuego

2011-03-19T07:31:00.000-07:00

I'm in Punta Fuego in Batangas for a planning session for work. Despite the long traveling time, I do like coming here. We arrived early this morning, around 5am, because we left Quezon City around 2am. When we got here, we saw this big fat moon when we registered at the reception area. It was a moonset, although it really looked more like a sunset. The moon looked particularly big because of March 19's supermoon, when the moon will be at its closest to the earth in 18 years.

Since we arrived here so late (or early), we started our session after lunch. After our afternoon workshop, we had our buffet dinner outdoors. The view from the dining area is very pretty, as you have a view of the sunset over the sea. There were a lot of visitors in Punta Fuego who also enjoyed the view with us, a lot of them foreigners. If they came from colder climes, Punta Fuego probably seemed like paradise.

Tonight the moon was even fuller, as it is the actual supermoon. It was a even more of a pleasure to dine outside because you had front row seats to the moon's splendor.

I always enjoy going to Punta Fuego, whether for business or for pleasure. I wish that I could afford to get a house here someday.

This blog is settling down!

2011-03-18T02:02:00.001-07:00

I've been importing and exporting this blog and I'm getting tired of all the moving, so (for now?) I'm going to stick to this address. This will continue to be my personal blog, to be updated when possible, and I will continue writing little things that I've heard about, that happened to me, that struck me as funny, or whatever else that strikes me to be worthy of putting pen to paper (or more accurately, fingers to keyboard).

One thing I hate about being Filipino...

2011-03-12T03:20:00.000-08:00

is the way people feel free to comment on your weight gain/loss (in my case, ALWAYS gain), and then look at you strangely when you show any sign that you were offended by what you were told. I'm so tired of people saying "ganyan talaga ang kultura ng Pinoy" (that's part of Filipino culture), and making that an excuse for their rudeness. So many people don't see how rude it is, and label you as onion-skinned or what not when you point this out.

Last Friday, I was at my parents' house for a visit before they left for an extended trip. My mom's manicurista was there, and she hadn't seen me in a few years. Expectedly, she said, "Tumaba ka!" (You gained weight!), then when my mother told her I didn't like being told that, she changed gears and said (as SOOOOOOOO many Filipinos do), "Bagay naman sa 'yo eh!" (It suits you!) GRRRRRRRR!!! I'm really so sick of hearing this. Again... and again... and again. I can never get used to it, (I certainly don't intend to!) and I continue to think it very ill-mannered, offensive and objectionable. My weight is my own business, and nobody else's. Keep those comments to yourself.

(And to those who think this behavior is acceptable, please don't tell me it's my fault for gaining weight. You wouldn't want me pointing out your faults and saying they suit you just fine, would you?)

Harry Potter vs. Twilight

2011-02-16T02:16:00.000-08:00

I discovered rather recently and belatedly that fantasy is my favorite genre, both for books and for movies. I think it's because it's more possible for me to have some suspension of disbelief when dealing with outright fantasy than I can with sappy love stories.

Today, I came across a quote (care of a facebook status update by my friend Jan) that's been attributed to one of my favorite authors, Stephen King. I think it's hilarious.

"Harry Potter is all about confronting fears, finding inner strength and doing what is right in the face of adversity… Twilight is about how important it is to have a boyfriend." -Stephen King

"I Survived", finalist in NY Festivals for the category Best Docudrama

2011-02-07T02:06:00.000-08:00

I was at the birthday dinner of my friend Yeng when I got a call from Cheryl from the station's news department. She asked me if it was true that "I Survived" was a finalist for the 2011 New York Festivals International Television and Film Awards. She wanted to feature the story in our late night newscast. I hadn't heard the news, and I was no longer at the office, so I couldn't confirm what she'd heard.

After an hour or so, I got a text from our host, Ces, telling me that our show did make it to the finals for the category "Best Docudrama". I was ecstatic from the news. Although our show had already been cancelled (we aired our final episode Dec. 8), it is still getting recognized.

I immediately called some of the people who worked for the show to share the great news. We were all so happy, and proud of the show as well. Our show got one out of only eight nominations for our entire network, and we were the only show produced by the Current Affairs Department that got a nod. I am so very proud of our team.

The awards night will be held in Las Vegas, on April 12th. Up for grabs are bronze, silver, and gold awards. Of course I am keeping my fingers crossed that we win any of them, but reaching the finals is exhilarating enough for me.

Finally, after years of procrastinating...

2010-06-25T10:15:00.000-07:00

I'm finally a dive instructor! I can't believe it. Well, actually, what I really can't believe is how emotionally draining the instructor exams turned out to be. It's one of those "you had to be there" experiences that you can't really imagine unless you went through it. It was totally nerve-wracking, and one reason why I don't want to spell out the details is that part of me wants to just forget the whole experience and instead just remember that I came out of it an instructor.

Well, I'm glad it's over, and now I can move on with the rest of my life. (It was kind of on hold while I focused on studying and preparing for the exam.)

The spirit of the chain letter

2010-04-15T01:59:00.000-07:00

When I was a child, I would occasionally receive chain mail from my classmates, usually written on cheap stationery. We all have received these, in one form or another, over the years. Email made it easier in the 90s, and recently, we receive these over text messages as well.

They bear the same message. "Pass this on, and something good will happen to you." The more dire ones say that something bad will happen to you if you don't pass on the letter/text message/email.

I got a text the other week from a friend, and I found it highly amusing. This is what the text said, verbatim.

"Sory ha, needed lng kc! Pass ds to 25 prsn: JESUS I LOVE YOU! F u ignor ds n nka-unli ka, u wl sufer 4 8 yrs. So jz do 8! after 5dys 30 mrcles wl come 2u!"

Translated, it basically says "I'm sorry to be sending this, I just needed the help. Pass this to 25 persons: JESUS I LOVE YOU! If you ignore this, and you are on an unlimited text plan, you will suffer for eight years. So just do it! After five days, 30 miracles will come to you!"

Now, I don't intend to belittle my friend's desire to have 30 miracles happen in five days. I don't know what she needed the miracles for, but I'm sure it was important to her. What I found funny was that apparently, you will be punished for having access to unlimited texting and not using it for chain text messaging.

Remind me to downgrade my cellphone plan.

Another lucky thresher sighting in Malapascua, Cebu

2010-04-07T04:43:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, my friends and I again went to look for thresher sharks in Malapascua in Cebu. We were unlucky for the first four dives in Monad shoal. No threshers, no mantas. Only then did I truly realize how lucky we were last year, when we saw either mantas or threshers in almost all our dives in Monad.

I was glad to find out though that we still had some luck left, because we were blessed by a close encounter with a thresher on our last dive.

Work excuse of the week (year?)

2010-02-22T03:33:00.000-08:00

I got this text message from one of my staff members this morning, and I'm writing it here verbatim. He was asking to be excused from our weekly meeting. I have to say, it's the most creative excuse I've heard so far in my career. So creative (and honest) that I just had to accept it as legitimate.

"maam, hindi po ako maka attend ng miting. ang pimples ko. hndi ako makalabas. i dnt look good. sorry po. please."

Translated from Tagalog and text-speak, it says, "Ma'am, I won't be able to attend the meeting. My pimples. I can't go out. I don't look good. I'm sorry. Please."

Monkey see, monkey do

2010-02-12T00:49:00.001-08:00

I recently had dinner with my climbing friend Angel, and she had this story to tell about her three-year old son, Tyke.

Angel's husband Mars was driving in horrible traffic, with Angel in front and Tyke at the back. Road rage was building up in Mars, and he honked his horn at a particularly rude driver. He said something equivalent to "Get out of the way!"

Tyke: Papa, you forget to say something.
Mars: What's that, Tyke?
Tyke: Ashul.

Angel has since decided to be a tad more careful with what she says around her kid.

The Chowchow from China

2010-01-25T01:05:00.000-08:00

Note: After this blog entry, I researched on this story for a few months, and have concluded that it's some kind of new urban legend, as I've heard it from so many people, featuring slightly different details. Unless someone can give me the actual name of the person who supposedly bought the "chowchow", I am sad to say it will have to be filed as "fiction" in my book. I still think it's a good story, though.

My friend Zara told me a true story that's got me cracking up each time I think of it. I think this story is worth sharing with many people, and I've in fact told and re-told it to many friends already.

Anyway, Zara heard this story from her friend Luanne. Luanne has an officemate, whom we shall call "O". "O" recently went to China, and while she was travelling, she came across a chowchow, which is a popular pet dog in Manila, for sale. She proceeded to buy the dog and planned to make it a pet back home.

On the way back to the Philippines, she had to go through quarantine with her newly-acquired pet, first in China. "O" encountered no problems with the airport officials, and she was able to fly home. She also had no problems clearing the dog when she arrived in Manila.

"O" excitedly brought her new pet back to her house. She went back to work, but her helper called, sounding quite panicked. "Ate!" she said. "Yung aso, sinapian! Naglalakad na parang tao, at sinusundan-sundan ako!" (The dog is possessed! It's walking like a human and is following me around!)

"O" rushed home to see what the matter was. She brought the dog to the veterinarian, and had it checked to see if anything was wrong with it. She thought that maybe the front paws were infected with something, which made the dog favor its back legs.

After a brief examination, the vet found out what the problem was. "Hindi ito chowchow. Bear ito." (This is not a chowchow. It's a bear.)

New Year's Resolutions

2010-01-19T02:44:00.000-08:00

So... more than half of January has already passed by, and I have yet to start working on my new year's resolutions. I've thought of another way to have a brand new start. Chinese new year is on February 14, so I've decided to implement my list of resolutions then.

No, in case you're asking; "stop procrastinating" is not on that list.

Welcome, 2010! You're going to be fabulous!

2010-01-04T00:45:00.000-08:00

Watching fireworks from the ABS-CBN helipad

For some inexplicable reason, I have a strong feeling that 2010 will be a great year. Maybe it's blind optimism born of the desire to believe that this year will somehow cancel out the bad things that happened to our country in '09. Maybe I've been reading too many astrology websites. Or maybe it's just a premonition of something that's going to come true.

Whatever it is, I'm going to try to maintain this highly positive state of mind that comes so rarely to me. I have my usual list of new year's resolutions that I will try to tick off. Oops, make that... resolutions that I WILL tick off. To paraphrase Yoda, there is no try, only do. There are so many things I want to achieve this year, and I am hopeful that they will be realized by year's end.

Bring it on, 2010!

A cliche for the times

2009-12-09T22:47:00.001-08:00

A friend of mine posted a funny line as her facebook status. I thought it was hilarious because it's put a new twist on an old "adage for life". The saying went like this.

"Dance like the photo's not tagged, love like you've never been unfriended, tweet like nobody's following."

As far as I'm concerned, it's much better than the original version. (Was it "Dance like nobody's watching, love like you've never been hurt..."? I forget the other part of it.)

My first dive with a WHALE SHARK!!!

2009-11-04T00:35:00.000-08:00

I went diving in Leyte over the All Saints’ Day weekend with my friends, expecting nothing much more than the novelty of diving in a place we’d never been to before. We were surprised by one of the biggest treats a diver could ever experience- seeing the biggest fish on earth, the whale shark or butanding, in the deep. Dindo banged his tank repeatedly to call everyone’s attention, then signaled everyone to stay back. All the divers tried to get closer to get a better look, and take pictures and videos. Fred couldn’t resist, and touched the butanding’s left fin. We all followed the slow-moving creature as it swam. I looked for someone to put in the frame with the shark, and as usual, lucky Berg was in the best position to be in the video. Then one of our DMs, it seemed, couldn’t help himself and pulled on the creature from below, causing the shark to swim away in surprise. (We all gave him a hard time about it afterward.)

“I Survived” wins its first award!

2009-09-09T00:43:00.000-07:00

I haven’t been blogging much, not because I’m so busy with work (hah!), but mostly because I’ve been diving a lot, and focusing on underwater photography. However, this entry is not about diving, but, unbelievably, about work. Since March this year, I’ve been working for the show “I Survived” which Ces Drilon hosts. Not even six months since its pilot, the show won its first award from the MTRCB. During the awards ceremony last Friday, Sept. 4, we won in an unexpected category, which is Best Reality Show, but of course, we’ll gladly take it. The show I used to work for a few years ago also won awards but it didn’t mean as much to me as this one, probably because I am the first EP of this show and saw it through its birthing pains. The production staff members comprise a lean team working on a limited budget, and I am proud of all of them for putting up an award-winning show. Congratulations to the team of “I Survived”!

Your real age

2009-07-01T00:46:00.000-07:00

I saw a quote in Google by Gertrude Stein – “We are always the same age inside.” I thought it was an interesting quote. Some people say they are “young at heart”, or some similar cliche, to indicate that they have some of the child left in them. Stein’s quote made me think that in the same vein, some people are “old at heart” Just like people who are young at heart have always been like that, “old at heart” people have probably been that way for most of their lives.

It’s probably possible to change the real age of your insides, but I’m sure it takes Herculean effort.

Say no to plastic

2009-04-23T00:51:00.000-07:00

My dear, dear friend Felicity and I had a chat over Google earlier today, and she sent me a link to a depressing story. I am pasting the story on here. Basically, it says that we are slowly killing the earth (specifically our seas) with plastic. The story was written almost two years ago. I wonder how much bigger it has grown since then.

Continent-size toxic stew of plastic trash fouling swath of Pacific Ocean

Justin Berton, Chronicle Staff Writer
Friday, October 19, 2007

At the start of the Academy Award-winning movie “American Beauty,” a character videotapes a plastic grocery bag as it drifts into the air, an event he casts as a symbol of life’s unpredictable currents, and declares the romantic moment as a “most beautiful thing.”

To the eyes of an oceanographer, the image is pure catastrophe.

In reality, the rogue bag would float into a sewer, follow the storm drain to the ocean, then make its way to the so-called Great Pacific Garbage Patch – a heap of debris floating in the Pacific that’s twice the size of Texas, according to marine biologists.

The enormous stew of trash – which consists of 80 percent plastics and weighs some 3.5 million tons, say oceanographers – floats where few people ever travel, in a no-man’s land between San Francisco and Hawaii.

Marcus Eriksen, director of research and education at the Algalita Marine Research Foundation in Long Beach, said his group has been monitoring the Garbage Patch for 10 years.

“With the winds blowing in and the currents in the gyre going circular, it’s the perfect environment for trapping,” Eriksen said. “There’s nothing we can do about it now, except do no more harm.”

The patch has been growing, along with ocean debris worldwide, tenfold every decade since the 1950s, said Chris Parry, public education program manager with the California Coastal Commission in San Francisco.

Ocean current patterns may keep the flotsam stashed in a part of the world few will ever see, but the majority of its content is generated onshore, according to a report from Greenpeace last year titled “Plastic Debris in the World’s Oceans.”

The report found that 80 percent of the oceans’ litter originated on land. While ships drop the occasional load of shoes or hockey gloves into the waters (sometimes on purpose and illegally), the vast majority of sea garbage begins its journey as onshore trash.

That’s what makes a potentially toxic swamp like the Garbage Patch entirely preventable, Parry said.

“At this point, cleaning it up isn’t an option,” Parry said. “It’s just going to get bigger as our reliance on plastics continues. … The long-term solution is to stop producing as much plastic products at home and change our consumption habits.”

Parry said using canvas bags to cart groceries instead of using plastic bags is a good first step; buying foods that aren’t wrapped in plastics is another.

After the San Francisco Board of Supervisors banned the use of plastic grocery bags earlier this year with the problem of ocean debris in mind, a slew of state bills were written to limit bag production, said Sarah Christie, a legislative director with the California Coastal Commission.

But many of the bills failed after meeting strong opposition from plastics industry lobbyists, she said.

Meanwhile, the stew in the ocean continues to grow.

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch is particularly dangerous for birds and marine life, said Warner Chabot, vice president of the Ocean Conservancy, an environmental group.

Sea turtles mistake clear plastic bags for jellyfish. Birds swoop down and swallow indigestible shards of plastic. The petroleum-based plastics take decades to break down, and as long as they float on the ocean’s surface, they can appear as feeding grounds.

“These animals die because the plastic eventually fills their stomachs,” Chabot said. “It doesn’t pass, and they literally starve to death.”

The Greenpeace report found that at least 267 marine species had suffered from some kind of ingestion or entanglement with marine debris.

Chabot said if environmentalists wanted to remove the ocean dump site, it would take a massive international effort that would cost billions.

But that is unlikely, he added, because no one country is likely to step forward and claim the issue as its own responsibility.

Instead, cleaning up the Great Pacific Garbage Patch is left to the landlubbers.

“What we can do is ban plastic fast food packaging,” Chabot said, “or require the substitution of biodegradable materials, increase recycling programs and improve enforcement of litter laws.

“Otherwise, this ever-growing floating continent of trash will be with us for the foreseeable future.”

How to help

You can help to limit the ever-growing patch of garbage floating in the Pacific Ocean. Here are some ways to help:

Limit your use of plastics when possible. Plastic doesn’t easily degrade and can kill sea life.

Use a reusable bag when shopping. Throwaway bags can easily blow into the ocean.

Take your trash with you when you leave the beach.

Make sure your trash bins are securely closed. Keep all trash in closed bags.

Dive addiction

2009-04-20T00:53:00.000-07:00

Our boat picks us up after a dive off Cabilao island

Over the holy week holiday, I flew to Bohol with my dive buddies Isabel, Bodie, and Zara to explore the waters in that area. I’d gone diving in Bohol before, but I never really got to see its other topside attractions. We had four days of diving, then had one day to get our nitrogen levels down prior to flying and do the typical touristy things you just have to do while you’re there. We took pictures of the tiny tarsiers, the chocolate hills, the clean and green Lobok river, and other tourist traps there.

I did enjoy the land tour, but on that last day, I was wishing that we were diving instead (though of course we could not because of said nitrogen levels). The seas of Bohol are beautiful, and I could not get enough of it. I’ve been looking at the underwater pictures stored in my camera repeatedly, so as to extend my vacation somewhat. I could look at photos of the schools of jacks in Balicasag and the napoleon wrasse in Cabilao all day.

I’ve been diving for more than ten years, but I haven’t felt the itch to dive this intensely in quite some time. Right now I feel like there wouldn’t be anything better than being able to dive whenever I wanted in my favorite divesites. Reality does not allow this for now, but I’m hoping that one day I’ll get that lifestyle that has recently been occupying my thoughts more and more.

Pursuing the best job in the world

2009-03-15T00:57:00.000-07:00

A couple of months ago, a news item caught the world by storm. Headlines trumpeted by almost every major news organization in the world included the phrase “the best job in the world”, and the stories outlined how Queensland in Australia was looking for a “caretaker” to watch over its islands on the Great Barrier Reef. The job would last for a few months, and would pay thousands of dollars to simply live on the islands, blog about it, go snorkelling or diving, lounge on the beach, and basically enjoy living in paradise.

Many of my friends urged me to apply for the job, and I promised I would, even though getting this one job would be very much akin to winning the lotto. After the story broke out, the site where one could apply for the job crashed. It was obviously a very attractive job, and it was open to the whole wide world, so there were bound to be thousands if not millions trying to get it.

I resolved to apply for it, since the process was not very complicated. All you had to do was make a one-minute (or less) video showing why you are the one who deserves to get the job, and submit it online. The deadline was Feb. 22nd, and I was determined to meet it. However, being the procrastinator that I am, I postponed making my video until (guess when) Feb. 22nd. I crammed making my video, which was just actually a slideshow of pictures, and submitted it online. I barely made the deadline, but I still beat it. I gave myself a pat on the back.

After I filled up the online form, I was sent an email saying that they would review my application and that they would email me again to tell me whether it was to be accepted.

A few days after my submission, I got the email, and horror of horrors, I was told that my application was rejected, because “it was JUST over a minute”. I felt terrible. I got rejected because of a technicality. I thought I had timed the video to last exactly a minute, and apparently, it was a few milliseconds longer than that. There went my chances to lounge on the beach and go scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef (while being paid at that).

Of course this disappointment stems from my procrastination. If I had submitted the video earlier, I would have had time to edit it and resubmit a shorter version. I didn’t really think I’d get the job. As I said, I had as much chances of getting it as much as winning the lotto. However, because I didn’t even get my application in, it was like hoping to win the lottery without buying a ticket. If my application had not been rejected, I could’ve dreamt of winning the job until July, which is when they will announce the winner.

Anyway, I’m putting my application here, since I didn’t even get the chance to have it voted for. (One component of this job application was the “wild card”, where they will consider an applicant whose video gets the most votes.) I didn’t get the panel and youtube addicts to view it, but at least my friends can.

25 Random Things About Me

2009-02-27T00:59:00.000-08:00

There’s been a popular chain mail of sorts that’s been going around facebook. Somebody (hopefully a friend you actually care for) tags you in a note entitled “25 random things about me”, which contains a list of said random things about that person. You’re supposed to write your own list, then send it to 25 other people. Seeing as how it took me so long to come up with this list in facebook, I decided to make the most of my efforts and post it here as well. I called it…
My 25+1

.You know the drill. Send your 25 things to other people, including me.

1. I wanted to be a detective when I was a child, mostly as a result of reading too many Hardy Boys books. I only read one Nancy Drew book, where I discovered that her adventures were quite lame compared to those of the Hardys.

2. I am obsessive about spelling. Seeing typos bothers me no end. I sometimes think I would be perfectly happy working as a proof reader.

3. I haven’t eaten birds or mammals (or reptiles, for that matter) for more than ten years. I’m pescetarian partly because of traumatic experiences involving pig and cow slaughter when I was a child. In grade school, on a field trip to a meat factory, I somehow wandered into the room where pigs were put on conveyor belts, electrocuted, and dropped into giant vats. After seeing those poor pigs, I simply couldn’t look another lechon in the eye. The cow slaughter story is too long to relate here.

4. Aside from my friends, I don’t really like dealing with people that much.

5. I have no patience with narrow minds. There are obviously many ways of looking at things yet it’s amazing how much flak you get if your views or conduct deviate from the norm.

6. I work in a TV station, but I don’t own a TV.

7. I can go for days without talking to a single soul.

8. In school, I sometimes cried when asked to recite in class due to stage fright, even in college.

9. I haven’t worn a watch in over fifteen years. When I was younger, I used to say it was because I didn’t want to be bound by time. Then I realized it was just probably an excuse for being late.

10. I’m very good at keeping secrets.

11. I had a great childhood playing street games. I enjoyed patintero, skip rope, garter, siato, piko, and similar games that PS3 simply cannot compete with. Although I give the Wii a fighting chance.

12. I hate confrontations. Instead I have scenarios I play in my head involving flawlessly delivered, scathing put-downs. Very satisfying, and I never lack for a comeback.

13. I laugh easily and very loudly. An ex-boyfriend of mine once refused to sit beside me during a movie because my laughter drowned out the dialogue.

14. I distrust women with no girlfriends.

15. I used to be good at math, and was president of the math club in high school. Now, the simple arithmetic involved in figuring out how much my share of the check is when I eat out with friends gives me a headache.

16. The first time I described myself as “cynical” was fifth grade. I wonder if I even knew what the word meant then.

17. I have an irrational fear of security guards and traffic police. A few encounters with them have reduced me to tears.

18. My favorite movies are cartoons. I think “The Incredibles” is brilliant. Don’t even get me started on “Family Guy, the Movie”.

19. I moved out of my parents’ home soon after college. My first apartment was poorly ventilated and rat-infested (I saw a big one give birth to twelve baby rodents right outside our doorstep.). My roommate Yvette and I survived on noodles and alcohol. Those were great times. (This is not meant to be sarcastic.)

20. I am willing to try anything once.

21. A car once backed into me and pinned me to another car. The experience left me totally unscathed.

22. This is something I did not expect, but I am more comfortable with myself now than I was ten years ago. I guess the years do bring with them some wisdom.

23. I am unhealthily fond of sugar. When I was much younger, having no candy around made me panic. So, I used to melt brown sugar in butter, let it harden, then eat it as a snack. The sweetness made my teeth ache.

24. I am injury prone and have had countless sprains. I sprain myself during sports, which is understandable, but I’ve also sprained myself walking along a perfectly flat and harmless corridor. My orthopedic doctor asks, “What did you do THIS time?” each time I walk (or hobble, as the case may be) into his clinic.

25. My body is growing older, but I don’t think I ever will.

26. I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.

Honesty: Sometimes NOT the best policy

2008-11-06T01:01:00.000-08:00

Since I’ve gotten started on the topic of indelicacies, here are a couple of examples where employees provided too much information (more popularly known as TMI). These are two separate incidents involving two separate people.

The employees were telling me their respective reasons as to why they couldn’t report for work that day. Again, I am translating their words, which were spoken in Filipino. This rather detracts from their funny-ness, but you’ll get the point.

Incident #1

My office phone rings.

Employee: (sounding very disturbed) Ma’am! I won’t be able to go to work today! I had an accident in the bathroom!

Me: (worried by her tone and imagining her slipping and hitting her head on the toilet) What happened??? Are you all right?

Employee: Yes, yes, the bleeding has stopped.

Me: Oh my God! (then, rather repetitively) What happened???

Employee: Well, I was picking my nose…

Me: (wishing she wouldn’t go on) Oh.

Employee: Then I dug in too deep…

Me: Hmmm. (thinking of hanging up and pretending the line was cut by some strange electric force)

Employee: So it bled and bled and bled. Thankfully, it stopped bleeding already.

Me: (rather hurriedly) Okay, take the day off. Bye! (slams the phone down)

Me: (aloud in the office, to no one in particular) Why couldn’t she just say she had a headache?

Incident #2

My mobile phone rings.

Me: Hello?

Employee: Ma’am! I won’t be able to go to work today! I’ve got loose bowels. I’ve been going to the bathroom to relieve myself since last night. It’s so bad that my stools are like water! I think…

Me: (quickly interrupting) Okaytakethedayoffbye!

Honestly! Whatever happened to the good old headache excuse?

Overheard at a public washroom

2008-11-03T01:03:00.000-08:00

I was at a public washroom and overheard a very strange conversation. This exchange made me realize (again) that some people simply do not have personal boundaries. Woman number one was standing, washing her hands, while woman number two was inside a cubicle (so I could not ascertain her exact position). I translated their words into English, but believe me, it was way funnier the way they said it in Filipino. They conducted this conversation without moving from their respective places.

(WARNING: If you are easily offended by talk of bodily functions, read no further.)

Woman #2: There’s something wrong with my tummy.

Woman #1: (Sounding concerned) Really? Does it hurt?

Woman #2: Not really, I just can’t stop farting.

Woman #1: Well, maybe you have a bum stomach.

Woman #2: Well, if that’s the case, why don’t I feel like taking a crap?

(Short pause. Then loud fart.)

Woman #2: See? It’s all air! Nothing else is coming out.

At this point, I just had to leave the washroom. Not only because of the smell, but also because I couldn’t hold in my laughter anymore. (And we all know what happens if we hold in our laughter for too long.)

Life lessons

2008-10-15T01:06:00.000-07:00

A very good friend of mine recently pointed out to me two simple life lessons that are worth learning and remembering.

Lesson #1: Do not mock another person’s pain (especially if you had a hand in causing it). Unless, of course, you want to receive the same treatment when it is your turn to be mired in misery.

Lesson#2: Do not gloat when victorious, particularly if you achieved your victory through deceit, betrayal, or some other unscrupulous means. Aside from being… well.. just wrong… this also reveals your lack of breeding, and your total absence of class. (Class after all, demands magnanimity.)

Too true, my dear friend, too true.

Celebrating my birthday in Sipadan, Malaysia

2008-09-05T01:07:00.000-07:00

School of yellow snappers we saw at the Kapalai house reef

Another long spell of non-blogging for me. First of all, I STILL don’t have Internet at home. That’s factor number one. Secondly, I’ve been doing a lot more writing for work recently. This sometimes has the effect of making me feel like writing IS work; thus, I associate blogging with something not so pleasant. (As you can see, I am not crazy about my job.)

At any rate, I realized I hadn’t been blogging in a while after my new-found friend Caren messaged me with the observation “You don’t blog anymore, do you?” It made me realize that I hadn’t written here for more than a month, and again, a lot has happened since my last post.

First of all, a big THANKS to everyone who greeted me on my birthday (August 19, for those who forgot!). I had a really fabulous time. One of my best celebrations, I have to say. That’s because I spent it scuba diving in Sipadan, Malaysia, with one of my best friends, Anjou.

We stayed in an oil rig, and it had an elevator that brought you right into the water. It was a pretty interesting place to live for a few days. Even if the accommodations and facilities were less than stellar, it scored bonus points for its coolness factor. I mean, how many chances do you get to live in a fixed structure in the middle of the sea?

Also, the food was just amazing. Apparently, the cook in the rig had already been featured in four different food magazines in Malaysia. Every meal was delightful. Lunch and dinner were something to look forward to. (Breakfast was too early for me to appreciate.)

We had fantastic dives, and saw practically everything one could hope to see. Lots of giant turtles, big cuttlefish, sharks, and other interesting-looking creatures that one only sees in books or magazines.

I have a few more underwater pictures on my multiply site- you can look at it here.

It was a bit depressing, though, in the sense that I knew that the Philippines once had all that bounty in the sea, probably even more. However, over-fishing and lack of concern for marine life have resulted in a damaged underwater environment in our country. If only more people could appreciate the beauty of our own seas and realize that we are killing it slowly but surely. (Insert big, deep sigh.)

Aside from this trip, though, not much has happened. It was pretty much the highlight of the past month. I haven’t spent my birthday in the Philippines for the past four years. On the minus side, I don’t get to spend it with a lot of my friends and family. On the plus side, I manage to escape the mandatory birthday treat that everyone (including every Tom, Dick, and Harry in the office) seems to expect.

“Sex and the City” on the big screen (in my case, almost tiny)

2008-07-27T01:17:00.000-07:00

One thing that’s hard about being single in coupled Manila is that it’s sometimes difficult to find a movie buddy. And when you want to watch a movie you’ve been waiting for with almost breathless anticipation, one that you particularly have to watch with girlfriends like “Sex and the City”, it gets that much more frustrating. It seems you just have to wait until the pirated DVD comes along to be able to watch it.

Several of my girlfriends texted me, called me, or talked to me after having seen the movie. “Have you seen it?” they asked. “I thought of you,” they added.

At first, I felt a sort of resentment. Well, it’s very sweet of them to say, I thought, but not one of them asked me to go with them to watch it!

I wanted to go and watch “Sex and the City” in the theater, but it seemed my girlfriends had already seen it. Most, if not all of them, with their significant others. Which is totally understandable and expected. (Now you see the point of what I wrote about being in coupled Manila.)

I then thought of going by myself just to see the four girls and their fabulousness across the big screen. I thought, though, that for this particular movie, that might be a tad depressing.

So tonight, I went and bought a P40 not-very-clear copy of the movie and rushed home to watch it. I just finished watching it on my laptop, and I am still sniffling from the rush of feelings that it brought.

Most women can probably relate to one or more of the characters in varying degrees (though I would probably have to say that there is almost nothing I have in common with Charlotte). But it’s not so much who among my friends reminded me of whom, or who is the most like which character.

Watching the movie reminded me of many situations I’ve found myself in with my girlfriends. The ones I’ve bought shoes and purses with, the ones I ate with, laughed with, been catty with, drank with, and bawled my eyes out with. Even the ones I’ve fought with.

I am so very fortunate to have so many Carries, Samanthas, Mirandas, and, ok, even Charlottes in my life. I am largely who I am because of them. Just like Carrie to Miranda on that cold New Year’s Eve, they’ve often said to me that I’m not alone, and they have many times made me feel so.

And though I did watch the movie all by my lonesome on a Friday night, I felt that my friends were there with me, right there on my tiny computer screen. Not all of them dressed as fabulously, but as great at being friends as those fictional characters ever were.

The happy-ever-after of Carrie and Mr. Big moved me not at all. But the enduring friendship of those four women? Now that’s a happy ending.

So… I raise my glass in a toast. To all my girlfriends… Female, and fabulous.

It’s been a while…

2008-07-16T01:21:00.000-07:00

since I wrote here, and a lot has happened since my last post. One of the biggest developments is that I have FINALLY moved into a better place (this is literal, not figurative), one without cults, religious figures in the hall, queues of people outside my door waiting for a miracle cure, more lines outside my window forming for a shot at being part of the audience of a game show, and one-eyed people grabbing my arm as I leave my condo (hopefully I will be able to write about this in a future entry).

My new place is still walking distance from my office, though a few meters farther from my other condo. Small price to pay for finally feeling that my home is a haven, and not hell.

The bad news is that I have no Internet in my new place, because of red tape and all that. Thus, I am now accessing the worldwide Web in a coffee shop at the ground floor of my new place of residence. I am still working on getting Internet at home, but it’s a long tedious process. Argh.

Summer’s (come and) gone

2008-05-23T01:23:00.000-07:00

In my last entry, I said that I’d been pretty busy. Well, I really felt this statement to be true when the rainshowers began, signalling the end of summer. I wasn’t even aware that summer had already come and gone. I can’t believe I’d been too busy to spend some serious time at the beach.

Sure, I went diving, but because I’d been doing it as part of my training to become a dive master, those weekends spent at Batangas didn’t really qualify as summer trips- they felt more like work. I didn’t get to lounge by the beach, lay on the sand and soak up the sun as one should when summer rolls around. And now it looks like I won’t get a chance to do so.

I always mourn the passing of this season. Sure, I am relieved that temperatures have now gone down, that my skin is no longer baked whenever I walk to work, and that the humidity is not quite as oppressive. But those are small inconveniences to suffer in exchange for the constant feel of the sun on your face and the sense of freedom that the season seems to bring… the feeling that school’s out, that it’s time to go on a road trip, and that work is a world away.

Busy, busy, busy

2008-05-05T01:29:00.000-07:00

As you can guess from the title of this post, I’m about to tell you just how busy I have been. It’s been a rather hectic schedule which began on the last day of March. My brother Jerick, his wife Liz, and their son Aidan came over for a (too-short) two-week visit then. Since they were here for such a short time, we had to cram in as much hanging out, chatting, and eating together as we could during that period.

After they left, I began assisting dives as part of the course to become a dive master. My weekends have been occupied with that since then, so I have been rather tired. Apart from many things, it’s a physically demanding job. I am learning many things in this course, but it is taking a lot out of me.

I’ve also been trying to get back to playing badminton regularly. My sister-in-law Tintin is now back in fighting form after giving birth to Raffy in November, so I now have someone to go and play with. I have a running joke with my badminton-mates, that I only play badminton quarterly. Well, I hope to up that frequency, though with work and all, it’s still been a struggle to do so.

Hopefully, my time management skills will kick in even just a little bit so I will be able to do what I want to do, what I have to do, and even what I don’t want to do (but have to, anyway.)

New Year’s Resolutions Progress Report

2008-02-25T01:34:00.000-08:00

I have a bazillion little resolutions that I haven’t started on, but as far as those resolutions that I wrote on this blog are concerned, I have, at the very least, taken initial (baby) steps toward fulfilling them. There were three major (major to me, that is) things I wanted to accomplish this year, and two of them were related to diving. As I wrote in an earlier entry, before the year ends, I hope to be both a technical diver and a dive instructor.

Before my non-diver friends get bored, a little explanation may be in order. A technical diver is one who is able to go deeper and stay underwater longer than recreational divers. A dive instructor (though you can probably figure this out for yourself) is a dive professional who teaches people to become licensed scuba divers.

Earlier this month, I finally started to take lessons to become a dive master (DM). The DM course is the first stage in becoming a dive professional. A DM can lead recreational dives and assist instructors in teaching courses. This course is rather rigorous, and includes written exams, practical training, and swim tests. Among all the requirements that I need to fulfill, the one that I am worried about most is the swim tests. I have to swim 400 meters in eight minutes, and in my current fitness state, that is just plain impossible to do. I will have to train and become more fit to be able to pass this phase of the training without passing out. At the rate I’m going, it will still take a few months to check off everything on the list of requirements before I become a licensed dive pro. But it’s still early in the year so I am hopeful.

As far as technical diving is concerned, the biggest barrier to learning how to do it is the cost While saving up enough money to enroll for the course, I took another class that is a prerequisite for the tech diving course, which is diving with enriched air or nitrox (a mix of nitrogen and oxygen). Diving with nitrox allows you to have less nitrogen in your body after a dive, so you feel less tired. It also allows you to stay longer underwater without getting sick from having nitrogen in your body.

So, despite my failure to start on a fitness program, lose any weight, be a better person, chuva chuva chuva, I am happy to report that I’ve started to work on two of my other resolutions for this year. Wish me luck on passing the swim test and saving up for the tech course (At this point both seem equally difficult).

Life in the Third World

2008-02-19T23:56:00.000-08:00

The main reason why I chose to live in the shoebox despite its too-small living space, traffic noise, the masses of people lining up outside for a game show, proximity to a cult, etc.- is that it is very close to the TV station where I work. Because gas prices zoomed up while I was away, I didn't want to have to shell out a lot of money just to gas up to go to work (I don't mind it as much if I have to pay for gas for out-of-town trips). Because I live so close by, I just walk to the office and hardly need to use my car (which I call Zak).

However, this morning I discovered YET another reason to be stressed about my living arrangements. When I was about to leave my building for work, the guard approached me and tried to tell me something in a very soft voice. "Blah blah blah blah blah blah", is pretty much what registered, since he was speaking in unusually hushed tones. I asked him to speak up, since I was already late for a meeting. He spoke a bit louder, and he said "Ma'am, nawala po ang sideview mirrors niyo." (Ma'am, your sideview mirrors have been stolen.) No wonder he was speaking so softly! It was his job to guard the (very small) parking lot in front of our building!

I rushed to Zak, and saw for myself that yet another car of mine was stripped of its sideview mirrors. This is the third time this has happened to me. My two previous cars had been victimized in the same manner. As in the past two incidents, I just felt helpless and frustrated. There was no way I was going to get those mirrors back. I just have to suck it up, go to Banawe to buy cheap and probably stolen replacements. As the joke goes, I might just be buying my own mirrors back.

These are the moments when I really hate living in Manila. When your car is violated right outside your home, and when you realize there's pretty much NOTHING you can do about it.

The Wonder-Vitamins and My Landlord

2008-01-20T01:42:00.000-08:00

I think I know why my landlord has not gotten in touch with me yet after I complained about having many people in the condo’s hall.

Let me backtrack a little bit. As I said in my last post, there have been many people outside my door, lining up to buy vitamins from the office next door. Things have gotten a bit worse since then. They have put benches along the hallway, where people wait their turn to buy these confounded vitamins. So now, there are people sitting on both sides of the hall whenever I leave or arrive home, and I have to undergo their scrutiny and have their eyes follow me as I enter/exit my room.

They are also very noisy. I hear these people talking loudly, and sometimes they bring along their children who run up and down the hallway, banging on the walls as they go.

Because of this turn of events, I have had to make a few household purchases. First, I bought a divider that I set up by my door, so as to limit what the people outside can see of my room. Two, I bought and installed extra locks and a peephole on my door. Since my landlord was not doing anything to improve the situation, I figured I should do what I could to protect my privacy and enhance my security.

Now, one of the voices I often hear outside my door is that of a man, who seems to be the head salesperson of the vitamins that they are peddling. One day, I heard him give his sales spiel to an old woman. “Lola, sa tulong ng vitamins na ito, gagaling ang almoranas ninyo. (Grandma, with the help of these vitamins, your hemorrhoids will be cured.)” This was a very intriguing claim, so I listened on.

“Maraming sumusuporta sa produktong ito (Many people support this product),” he explained. “Yung isa sa mga sponsor nito ay si Judge ——–, lolo ni —- ——– (One of the sponsors of this product is Judge ——–, grandfather of —- ——– [a popular actress]).”

That’s how I discovered the reason behind the non-action of my landlord after my complaint. Judge ——–, aside from being one of the vitamins’ backers, is also my landlord.

My New (and Very Annoying) Neighbors

2008-01-16T01:46:00.000-08:00

I hadn’t had neighbors to the right of my unit since I moved into my little shoebox in August. There are only two doors to the right of mine, one across and slightly to the right of me, and one beside me. After those doors is the end of the hall. A few weeks ago, I noticed that there were people coming from and going into those two doors. I heard a lot of banging and shifting sounds that usually mean that someone is moving in.It turns out that the units to my right were going to be offices. They would be selling some sort of vitamins, which, according to a big sign posted outside their doors, would cure pretty much anything. I didn’t pay much attention to my new neighbors. I had no idea how many people were working in these offices, and I didn’t see or bump into its occupants.

Last week, as I opened the door for a delivery boy to get the pizza that I had ordered, I was surprised to see about three men standing right across my unit. They were just… standing there. I wondered what they were doing there, and I wanted to ask them what they wanted, since looked like they were waiting for something outside my door. I felt a little (okay, a lot) uncomfortable, since my shoebox is just one room, and you can see everything inside my home from right outside my door. This includes my bed, my mess, dirty clothes I may have tossed onto the backs of my two chairs, and pretty much my whole private space. It’s hard enough to open my door to delivery boys who could pass judgment on how I may or may not be cleaning my room. It’s worse when strangers on whom you are not dependent for food delivery can see into the heart of your home without your invitation.

Anyway, they just looked at me as I was getting my pizza and didn’t say anything, so I dismissed the incident and figured those men were just waiting for their friends who might have been in the offices. However, it was apparently just a preview of things to come. A few days after I saw those three men waiting outside my door, I started seeing lines forming outside the doors of the vitamin offices. The lines weren’t even very straight, so the hallway outside my door was filled with people milling about and waiting to get into these offices. This started happening on a regular basis. Like, everyday, for the WHOLE day.

I decided to send a text message to the building administrator to complain about the situation. After all, when I moved into my unit, I thought it was a residential area. It was bad enough that I’ve had to contend with the noise outside my window when lines are formed for the game show. The lines forming for this vitamin beside my unit though are causing me even more stress. Not only do the people make a lot of noise, it’s also making me extremely uncomfortable that dozens of strangers can see into my room and see where I sleep whenever I have to open my door.

I haven’t heard back from the building administrator yet. Maybe I should just make the most of a bad situation and start charging the people in the hallway a minimal voyeur’s fee for a view of my room.

2008-01-01T10:01:00.000-08:00

New Year, Old Resolutions

New Year's Eve is one of my favorite times of the year. First of all, it signals that the end of the Christmas season is near (I intensely dislike that holiday). Mostly though, I like it because it's a good time to rehash resolutions that I failed to fulfill in the past year. I stubbornly hold on to the irrational belief that I will achieve what I simply have not managed to, year after year after year.

For 2008, the usual things that I haven't crossed off my list will remain. You know, mundane stuff like losing weight, exercising more and the like. I have also included some relatively more interesting things on my list for this year. A lot of it involves being a student of sorts once again.

Here is a partial list of things I resolve to accomplish within the next twelve months.

1. Become a technical diver.
2. Learn to surf.
3. Study to become a dive instructor.

That's only three of a seemingly endless, rather ambitious, (and maybe a tad unrealistic) list, but those are the ones that I will focus my energies on. I hope they will be crossed off by the time '09 rolls around.

2007-12-04T22:35:00.000-08:00

An Abso-freaking-lutely Fabulous Dive Trip in Cebu

Last Friday, November 30, was a national holiday, so the past weekend was another long one for Filipinos. Rocio had informed Gines and I months ago that there was a dive trip to Cebu scheduled for this period, so we signed up quickly. We decided that come hell or high water, we were going.

As it turned out, the trip started out with a lot of stress. A last-minute curfew imposed by President Arroyo because of a failed coup attempt threw a monkey wrench into our plans. We ended up having to go to the airport much earlier, and we waited hours for our flight sitting or lying on the cold and rather dirty airport floor.

Anyway, all those negative vibes were shoved aside when we got to Cebu. The weather was perfect, the resort was comfortable (though they had atrociously expensive food), and the company was excellent.

It was a different diving experience for me. I had so much fun going deep at Cabilao Island, where we saw a school of barracudas. The walls of coral were simply majestic. It was very quiet and peaceful at those depths as well, and I felt then more than ever, how diving can be an experience bordering on the spiritual.

Me gaping in awe at the school of barracudas

On the boat ride back to the resort, we had a brief stopover at a sandbar which we christened "Happy Island". It was a really small place, but the white sand and clear waters had us all jumping about and gamboling like children.

Rocio, Gines, and I on Happy Island

Best attempt at doing a group jump on Happy Island

I seem to be at a loss for words in trying to describe what made that trip so special to me. I do have snapshots in my head of what happened there, a slideshow that I play when I try to remember what happened in Cebu. Tom leading our four-minute descent into the deep, Gines downing four tequila shots at a time, Rocio doing jumping poses on Happy Island, Greg digging into the bottomless "talaba", Travis striding into the water with twin tanks, the wall that seemed to stretch endlessly into the bottom of the sea.

I flew home to Manila more exhausted than I'd been in recent memory. I hardly had any sleep in those four days. But I realized there would be time to sleep and rest in Manila, so I lived those four days to the fullest. I stayed in the water for as long as I was allowed, I stayed awake as long as my body could endure, and I spent as much time with my friends as I possibly could.

Last weekend will undoubtedly be top-ranked among my happy thoughts.

2007-11-24T20:18:00.000-08:00

Beautiful Baby Raffy

On November 12, Tintin and John (but mostly Tintin) gave birth to a gray-eyed, brown-haired boy, whom they named Raffy, short for Raphael Ignacio. I visited the proud parents and the brand-spanking-new baby while they were at St. Luke's, but I couldn't take a good look at Raffy because he was behind the glass at the nursery. I couldn't wait to take a closer look at him when he'd adjusted to living outside the comforting confines of Tintin's tummy. I can only imagine how stressful it was for him to deal with the world of noise, bright lights, and smells that he was jolted into.

Mama's birthday was on the 17th, so we celebrated it at Tintin and John's home since the new mother was still recovering from what I could only believe to be a highly traumatic experience (the childbirth, that is). Raffy was only five days old, and I realized I hadn't really been exposed to babies who are that young. Usually, I just visit new mothers at the hospital and view the infants at the nursery. Then, I would only get a chance to see the baby again when it was a few months old and deemed ready and old enough to be exposed to the rest of the world. It was an unusual and fascinating experience to see up close a baby who was practically fresh from his mother's womb.

I was entranced by Raffy. Ten tiny little fingers, ten dainty little toes. (The perfectly-formed finger and toenails were actually what really mesmerized me.) He still had the fine downy facial hair that babies are supposed to have when they're newborn. I wondered what he was thinking. Was he missing the silence of the uterus? Did having so many faces peering at him freak him out? Well, freaked out or not, I pointed my camera at him at clicked away. He probably thought I was a nuisance who was disturbing his nap, but he's too tiny to complain. Besides, he better get used to having paparazzi around. The new parents are bound to record every little thing he does, which of course, could only be magic.

2007-10-25T08:33:00.000-07:00

New Friends, New Diving Memories

My friend Gines got certified as an open water diver in May, and he excitedly messaged me on Friendster to share the happy news. I was also very happy to have someone new to dive with, so we vowed to go diving when I got back to the Philippines.

This month, I spent two weekends with him at Outrigger Resort in Anilao. We went with the Divers' Network, which is a group of pretty cool people. I bumped into this group quite by accident. Chi and I went to a dive shop in Tomas Morato to have our equipment serviced, and we met the owner of the shop, Rocio Morato. I remembered Rocio's name from one of Gines' stories from the past. He had mentioned her as a friend of his who was also a diver. I told her that Gines was a friend of mine, and so a friendship was forged in an instant, through our common bond with him.

We immediately made and carried out dive plans. Both weekends were a lot of fun. Diving in itself has always been a very good experience for me. Hovering in the water, looking at schools of fish and gardens of coral; always feeling in awe of what I see and being thankful for the privilege of experiencing a totally different, almost alien world. Last Sunday, on the trip back to the resort after a dive, six or so dolphins passed right in front of our boat. We stopped and looked at them jump for air three more times. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face after that. It just seemed like magic to me.

My new friends are a happy bunch and really a joy to be around. They are the perfect company to have if you just want to kick back, talk about nothing in particular, eat, and most of all, LAUGH (maniacally, at times). I am so glad to have met Rocio, her sister Melissa and Meling's husband Travis, Ronette, Greg, and Aris. I can sense that these are people to form lasting ties with.

It has been also been great to meet new people to dive with; people who share my appreciation for marine life, for the high that comes from being underwater. I had long associated diving with Caye, since I met him on my first open water dive, and he had been my dive buddy until I left for the US. Meeting new friends and having new dive buddies have been immensely therapeutic for me. My new friends remind me that there are so many more new memories to be made, and with each dive that I make with them, the past becomes just a little more distant, loses a little of its mystique, and becomes simply that... my past.

2007-10-17T21:50:00.000-07:00

Facebook hits Manila

I have been unable to log on to facebook for the past couple of hours, and I suspect that it's because Filipinos have been using it like crazy and caused facebook's server to crash.

Facebook used to be available only to students with .edu email addresses, but late last year, it opened up so that anyone with any email address could join. I remember how facebook groups cropped up, demanding that it continue to be available only to students. There was no stopping facebook though, and facebook vowed to take over the world. I don't know about that part, but it sure has sucked Manila into its vortex.

During the past three months, I noticed that the facebook craze has caught on among many of my friends. It has caused massive addiction, much more than that caused by Friendster when that became popular about four years ago. Its applications and interactivity have caused my friend Yvette to state her facebook status as "Yvette is the latest resident of the facebook rehab center". Many other friends are throwing sheep at each other, giving out mardi gras beads, leis, and oktoberfest beers to people on their list of friends.

Facebook is really addicting, and I myself have spent many hours poking people, writing on their walls, winking at, sending drinks to, or hugging them online. The stalker in me (and I'm sure in other people) is given free rein in this social networking site. I have various accounts in other networks, but I do like facebook best. I think it's been a hit with Filipinos because we are such social creatures, and it gives us a chance to do online (in various creative ways), what we sometimes do not have time to do offline. Touch base with our friends, give them drinks, and spend office hours interacting with them.

Now, if only the server were up again...

2007-10-16T08:32:00.000-07:00

The Secret to Happiness

I was visiting my very pregnant sister-in-law Tintin this afternoon, and I was feeling a little blue. So I told her I was going to the friendly neighborhood store to buy some chips and diet coke in hopes of improving my mood. She said she was feeling down as well, and asked me if I wanted to have some pizza instead. I thought that the combined effects of chips, diet coke, and pizza might be enough to make us feel better, so I still went off to the store, while she ordered garlic and cheese pizza from Shakey's (our favorite) for delivery.

We attacked the chips as soon as I got back, and chatted about our respective reasons for having the blues. After a while (meaning three bags of chips later), we noticed that the pizza had still not been delivered. Shakey's has a 45-minute delivery guarantee, and it had already been 47 minutes since Tintin ordered, according to her watch. After a few more minutes, the pizza guy arrived. Tintin pointed out that 50 minutes had passed since she called in the order, and so the guy said the pizza was free. Our disposition immediately improved, due to the MSG from the chips, the caffeine and artificial sweetener from the coke, and most importantly, the FREE PIZZA from Shakey's.

The secret to happiness is no big mystery after all.

2007-10-08T18:03:00.000-07:00

Desperate Overkill

As I mentioned in my previous entry, Pinoys have gotten very agitated about a certain scene in Desperate Housewives. Apparently though, some of the reactions are now well in the realm of the ridiculous. I heard about the demands that some Filipinos are putting forth to ABC, and I agree that they are somewhat (and I say that ironically) of an overreaction. I mean, boycotting Disneyworld? There's also a demand to issue an apology in the next three episodes. I think sobriety is called for here. While it was important to make ABC realize that what they did was wrong, it would also be unfortunate if the whole issue ends up becoming trivialized because of the ridiculousness of our reactions as Filipinos.

2007-10-03T05:04:00.000-07:00

"Desperate Housewives" gets Filipinos really angry

It's been just a short while since Desperate Housewives aired their season premiere (just a little over 24 hours ago, if I got my facts straight), but already, thousands of Filipinos are up in arms against the show; Teri Hatcher in particular. Her character, Susan, is at the hospital, and she was told by her gynecologist that she might be hitting menopause. To this, she replied "Can I check your diplomas? I just want to make sure they're not from some med school in the Philippines."

There is a petition to express concern, disgust, or disappointment to ABC, the station that airs this show, at http://www.petitiononline.com/FilABC
People are also encouraged to email them directly at abc7@abc.com. I've already done both. It's no sweat off my back, and really, that line was quite insulting. Everyone involved in the show (particularly the Executive Producer) should answer for their actions.

Here's the clip that has offended so many. Bring out your inner activist and get involved in the cause. Some might find it petty, but frankly, I like anything that gets the goat of Pinoys and encourages some form of mass action from normally apathetic people (Like that Malu Fernandez controversy a few months ago).

2007-09-29T22:09:00.000-07:00

The Not-so-Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe(box)

I've been in the (two-month-long) process of moving to a new condo. It's been taking me so long to actually move into the unit, not just because I've been reluctant to cut the umbilical cord that apparently attaches me to my brother John (despite us not having a parent-child relationship), but also because the place is so tiny; microscopic even. That means I've been having trouble fitting all my stuff in it. I'd thought it would be easier because I've purged a lot of my things. I sold off and gave away a lot of things when I left the Philippines two years ago, then I sold off and gave away even more stuff when I left Columbia. However, it seems that "stuff" just multiplies when you are not looking. Kind of like partner-less socks in your drawer. Or fat cells on your inner thighs.

Anyway, the place seems to be the smallest place I've ever lived in (and I've stayed in pretty tiny condos). But aside from its lack of floor space, there are a couple of things that I've found that are hampering the enjoyment I usually experience when I move into a new place (lack of size notwithstanding). First, since I do not have an airconditioner yet, there is a gaping hole in my wall that leaves me vulnerable to the elements, both natural and criminal. Second, I have discovered first-hand the process of choosing the audience for the game show Wowowee. You see, I live right across ABS-CBN, which would not have been so bad in itself. What IS quite alarming is that the people who want a chance to be a part of the audience of this show line up the evening before outside the station, RIGHT ACROSS my condo. In fact, I came across some of them camping out and sleeping one night on the parking space I had hoped to get for myself.

Going back to the process of audience-choosing... Around seven in the morning, someone using a very powerful loudspeaker announces the names of the lucky people chosen to be audience members. Now, the voice of the announcer would have penetrated any wall of the average Filipino home. However, there is that matter of the gaping hole in my wall, which lets in pretty much all the sounds from outside (including occasional drunken conversations of the cigarette vendor downstairs having drinks with his cohorts). When the announcer reads out the names and cracks jokes to break the monotony, his voice is so loud it feels like I'm standing in line down there with everyone else. Also, this all happens too early in the morning, when it is particularly unpleasant and jarring to be shouted at by someone.

So right now, I am kept busy trying to improve my condo situation. I'm still trying to get rid of some things so I can fit all my worldly possessions into my two-square-meter condo, and I'm on the lookout for an airconditioner that can fit into said gaping hole and solve a multitude of problems. It will stop the rain from getting inside, deter criminals from getting a hold of my worldly possessions, and muffle the announcer's attempts at comedy as he calls out the names of people who spend a whole night on the sidewalk for a chance at watching a gameshow hosted by the biggest buffoon ever to grace Philippine television.

2007-08-18T06:32:00.000-07:00

Priscilla, the Musical

When I arrived in Sydney, Gigi had already lined up lots of things to fill up my itinerary. One of the things on her list was watching a musical, and she gave me two choices, Billy Elliot or Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. Billy Elliot has received rave reviews (both for the movie and the musical), but it was no contest for me- I definitely wanted to watch Priscilla live. I loved the movie, and I remember buying the CD of the soundtrack as soon as I got out of the theater. That CD became well-worn, since there were just too many drag queen karaoke favorites in it that I could sing along to. Priscilla, Queen of the Desert also marked my early days as a fag hag.

Gigi had a hard time getting tickets, as a lot of the shows were sold out. After a lot of conscientiousness on her part, she finally bagged us two tickets for the eve of my birthday. I was really pumped to see the musical (and sing along to the music, of course!) So I started to sing the songs from the soundtrack any time I got a chance, to get into the mood. (While walking along the street, in the shower, while strolling in the mall etc.)

On the night itself, we had a typical late start from the apartment, and got to Lyric Theater a mere five minutes before the show was to begin. Well, we made it, and that's all that mattered. The show was everything I expected it to be, and I was amazed by how effectively they were able to translate the film onto the stage. (A quick summary for those who have not seen the movie- three drag queens from Sydney travel across the Australian outback in a bus nicknamed "Priscilla" to perform at a casino in a remote town. It is revealed later on that the drag queen who planned the gig actually agreed to perform as a favor to his wife, who owns the casino. He is also revealed to have a son.) They were able to communicate the vastness of the landscape with the use of a revolving stage.

The music was great, the performances funny, and the costumes, just FABULOUS. They hired the same costume designer as the one hired for the movie (the costumes in the movie merited an Oscar in 1994), and the costumes just added to the visuality of the whole performance (Cupcakes as skirts, and candles as headdresses!). And how could they go wrong with the songs? "I Will Survive", "I Love The Nightlife", "I've Never Been To Me". Gigi gave me the CD of the soundtrack as my birthday gift. It had more songs than the film version, for some reason. I had a wonderful time during the show, and I was singing the songs in it for days after. "I don't think that I can take it, 'cause it took so long to bake it, and I'll never have that recipe againnnnn......."

2007-08-17T21:40:00.000-07:00

Birthday Celebration Kickoff

Blowing out my birthday candle

It's my birthday weekend, and Gigi helped me make plans to make sure that I celebrate it in style. First on the list, a visit to Rockpool, consistently ranked as one of the best restaurants in the world. I wanted to have my actual birthday dinner there, but they're not open on Sundays. I tried to get reservations for Saturday, to make it the eve of, but still no go, since it was fully booked that evening. They had an open slot for Friday, so Friday it had to be. I was psyched to try their twelve-course tasting menu.

So tonight, after much primping and preening, Gigi and I set off for the Rocks, which is (obviously) where the restaurant is. We got there a few minutes late because of traffic on the Harbour Bridge, but thankfully we didn't lose our table. There's really not much else to tell about the dinner, except that it lasted for four hours, the food was excellent (especially the desserts), they gave me a beautiful birthday cake (the picture doesn't do it justice- it's chocolate cake in a nest of spun golden sugar), and that Gigi and I went home with distended stomachs. Pigging out is a must when celebrating one's birthday, after all.

Tomorrow evening, we're watching Priscilla, Queen of the Desert- the Musical, and on Sunday, we're off to Hunter Valley for some wine tasting. Food, wine, and drag queens. No better way to celebrate getting older.

2007-08-13T07:34:00.000-07:00

More Good News/Bad News

So, the good news is that someone from CNN emailed to inform me that they are offering me a post as a video journalist at their head office in Atlanta. The bad news (OBVI, as some would say) is that I can't take the job. I emailed her back to say that I have to serve a two-year sentence in my home country before I could even think of working in the US. Again, I felt pretty bad that I had to say no to an opportunity like that.

I was expecting her to email back to say "that's too bad, have a nice day" and the like. Well, I was very happy that, instead, she wrote:

"Please hold on to my contact information. As CNN continues to grow, we are always looking for top talent! While you may be unavailable to discuss opportunities at this time, we no doubt will have opportunities in 22 months when you return. I would be more than happy to discuss at that time what opportunities are a match for you."

That made me feel much, much better :)

2007-08-06T01:18:00.000-07:00

Last Hurrah in Sydney, Australia

I'm on the last leg of my 2-year break from work, and I'm spending it in Sydney with Gigi. I flew here the day after James' despedida (with a slight hangover), and I've been having an awesome time so far. I'll be staying here until the 22nd, so I'll be celebrating my birthday here as well. Sydney is great- the food is excellent, and you get a glimpse of the sea from many points in the city. I hadn't known that the food here would be outstanding; apparently, this city is heaven for a foodie.

At Hyde Park

Gigi in front of the Opera House

Gigi's been a great host, showing me the sights, bringing me whale-watching, and taking me to her favorite eating places. Gigi has a special role among my friends, in that she is my eating partner. Of course, I eat with ALL of my friends (it's kind of a requirement), but she feels as strongly about food as I do. We talk about food for hours, and even better, she is a great cook. So she gives me a lot of recipes (her going-away present when I went to Columbia was a cookbook of her own concoctions), and while I'm here in Sydney, has been cooking for me.

So whether we're eating out or in, the food's been great. One thing about Sydney, though, EVERYthing is so expensive, as the city has a very high cost of living. Even stuff from the grocery costs so much more compared to the US. When it's time for me to go home, I'll be heavier from all the eating, and poorer from all the spending. Well, that's what holidays are all about.

2007-07-31T21:20:00.000-07:00

Never-ending Goodbyes

The prospect of going back to work at ABS does not seem so depressing, when I think about spending time with my friends who also work there. However, a lot of my friends are no longer there. Gigi is now working in Australia, Anne is in New York, Daphne is with QTV, Patrick is with Channel 5. Then, another one of my good friends from the network, James Ong, is leaving to work for the lifestyle section of a website in Singapore.

Luckily, I did get to spend some time with him before he left. We had dinner a couple of times, then on the night before he left, I got to attend his despedida. He and his friends were at Chili's and he invited me to join them for a couple of drinks. After Chili's closed, we moved to Butterfly, which is a small gay bar off Morato. We danced (to 80's music!) and drank until three in the morning. I had a lot of fun, and I will really miss James when he goes.

2007-07-20T21:56:00.000-07:00

Finally DIVING again!

One thing I’d been sort of dreading to do since I got back home is go diving, which is strange because it's something I’ve always enjoyed doing. I was dreading it, first, because I had not done it in two years and so needed to adjust to being in the water again; and second, diving has a lot of emotional connotations for me. Diving had always been my special thing with Caye. After all, I did meet him during my first ever open water dive. Caye had always been my dive buddy, and except for the time he lived in Bacolod, he was usually around to look out for me underwater. I used to tell some friends that I often felt closest to him when we went diving.

So, my friend and climbing partner Angel told me that her brother Jan, a dive instructor, is now working for Oceana, a resort in Puerto Galera. She said he was inviting us to try the place and also resume our diving career. After some major coordination, we finalized plans for the trip. The cast of characters- Angel, Mars, and their baby Tykey, Anjou and Anton, Jan and his new (at least new to me) girlfriend Jules, and me. I felt like the seventh wheel, unless I could consider Tykey my date.

Jan, Jules, Anjou, Anton and I left for Galera on a Friday afternoon. Apparently there was a storm of some sort, so the boat trip from Batangas pier to Galera was pretty rough (there were ten-foot waves). We finally got there in the evening, and we tried to call it an early night (after a few Margaritas) so we could dive early.

The next morning, Angel, Mars, and Tykey arrived, and after a huge breakfast, we all set out to dive (except for the baby, of course. Tykey's only one year old). After another rocky boat ride, we arrived at the dive site. As the group started to descend into the water, I panicked because my mask started to flood. I went back up to the surface to try to fix the problem, but because the waves were so strong, I just couldn't calm myself down. Also, I started to have doubts about my equipment because I did not have it serviced before the dive. To top that all off I started to get pissed off at Caye because I was thinking that he should've returned my dive gear when I asked for it back in February and not just when he sensed that I was back in the country (but that's another looong story).

Anyway, with all those things happening while I was being thrown about by the waves, I told Jan to proceed with the dive without me. But, being the good dive master that he is, he told me to go down with them to fifteen feet first, then if I still felt uneasy, I could just come back up. I agreed, and sure enough, being in the water calmed me down. I continued and finished the dive without mishap, and I felt comfortable in the water again.

I went on four more dives after that, and I really had a lot of fun in and out of the water during that entire weekend. The resort was nice, diving in Galera was great, and I enjoyed all the eating that I did. Being near the sea, and spending time with my friends doing things I love doing, were all reminders of what I like about being in the Philippines. Diving does hold a lot of memories for me, but it's time to move on and make new ones.

2007-07-03T02:52:00.000-07:00

Finally Driving Again

During my whole stay in the US, I didn't drive; not ONCE. I just walked everywhere, or hitched rides from friends. I didn't really feel deprived. Columbia is a small town where a lot of the happening places are within walking distance from my apartment. I did feel weird having to ask people for rides, but since that didn't happen too often, it was all good.

When I got back to Manila, I didn't get my car back from Yeng, as I have mentioned. At first I thought it was just so I would be spared the expense of both the car payments and the gas. I've just been taking the MRT and cabs, or my friends would gamely pick me up and bring me home.

Today, I had a meeting near the station, and I decided to drive a grand total of 3.4 kilometers (just over two miles) both ways, so I could start getting to used to driving on the streets of Manila again. I borrowed my brother John's car for my little adventure. On the very brief drive home, I realized that I have been avoiding getting back my car not just because it would cost more, or because I would have to deal with crazy drivers on the street again.

I have been reluctant to drive because doing so would mean that I have really returned to my life in Manila, where I drive myself everywhere, where traffic lights are mere suggestions, and where chaos rules the road. And if I can accept that, I guess I'll have to really accept that I am indeed home, and everything else this fact entails.

2007-06-29T20:03:00.000-07:00

The Surprisingly High Cost of Living

I've been in Manila for going on three weeks now, and one of the biggest changes I've noticed since coming home is how expensive everything has become. I was only gone two years, but the way prices have gone up, it feels like I was away for much longer. My friends are already sick of me bitching about this, but really, the cost of everything is just a little too steep. One small but concrete example is the price of coffee in Figaro. I used to hang out there a lot, since it's very near the station. A cup of basic brewed was P49 when I left, and it's now P75. That's a 35% increase in a little less than two years!

I haven't gotten my car back from Yeng yet (she took care of it while I was away), and one reason I've hesitated to do this is the high price of gas (that and my newly discovered fear of driving on city streets). Apparently, new taxes and high inflation rates have resulted in these seemingly atrocious prices (at least, they're atrocious to as-yet-unemployed me). Maybe I'll feel better when I start getting a paycheck again.

2007-06-20T20:21:00.000-07:00

Some Things DO Change

I went to the Land Transportation Office (LTO) yesterday to renew my license, prepared for the usual hours-long wait involved in having to line up for around a dozen counter windows. That's because there's a counter for every move you make in this government agency, much like others. One window to pay the fees, another window to get your receipt, etc. etc. (or as Felicity has learned to say, chuva chuva chuva). Not to mention having to line up for the medical exam and the drug test.

I was pleasantly surprised though that the whole experience took me way less than an hour- from the time I had to pee in a cup for the drug test, to having my eyesight tested, to when I got the license itself (not just the receipt, but the actual card). Going to the LTO in the past had always been such a time-consuming and stressful experience, but yesterday it was much less so. Maybe it was just luck, but I'm hoping it was a sign that the tangle that is Philippine bureaucracy is somehow figuring itself out (or at least, at the LTO).

2007-06-16T01:50:00.000-07:00

It's not over

I'm back in the Philippines, and I discovered a very interesting thing. I've found proof that you do not go through the stages of grief in a linear manner, because I am back in ANGER. Take note, that's ANGER in all-caps. As I've said, I'm not a very angry person, but right now, I am. The rage in me is now boiling, roiling, white-hot, and painful to the touch. I am once more shaking to the core because I am fuming mad. The desire to strike out and cause physical pain to someone is intense, and it is taking all my sense of dignity and self-control not to give in to it.

I am embracing my rage because I did not have a chance to fully experience it while I was in the US. Sure, after Caye broke up with me, I had my moments of anger, but I always felt it was impotent simply because I was far removed from the situation where I once shared a life with him. I couldn't give in to it because I had school requirements and my desire to graduate to occupy me. I didn't want to deal with it because I thought that acknowledging the anger would be tantamount to feeling the pain.

But now, I am back, and so is my anger. And it has come back with a vengeance, demanding to be acknowledged, insisting on being wielded, commanding me to act on it. The anger began when I arrived at the airport. I thought to myself, "Caye was supposed to welcome me home and pick me up from the airport, as he has for so many years". Then as I lay in bed thinking about how it feels very surreal to be back home and how difficult it will be to be re-assimilated into life in Manila, I thought "Caye was supposed to hold my hand and help me through this stressful transition period". These thoughts began to make me angry, and then I remembered all the hurt that Caye and Corinne inflicted on me.

I remembered how eight and a half years of a life together were thrown away just like that, and how Caye and Corinne are off gallivanting and acting like they didn't betray me, hurt me, or rip my heart out oh-so-casually with their bare hands. I saw on my cellphone as I reactivated it an old text of Caye saying "I will make it my life mission to make you the happiest woman in the world", and I think how nonchalantly he broke his promises. I think of how the man I had thought of as my life partner discarded his commitment to me with no compunction, and with no effort to honor it.

These thoughts and many more have revived my anger, and breathed life into it. I am livid, seething, and I have yet to determine how, if, or when I will give in to my wrath.

2007-05-31T23:45:00.000-07:00

Why little boys should stay little

I've been hanging out with my 4-year-old nephew Aidan a lot, and it's been a joy because he's at a good age- basically, the age where he still thinks spending time with family is great. He's been more affectionate of late, and always looks for "Tita Nis" (his nickname for me) whenever he gets home from school. Earlier this evening, he said "I love you, Tita Nis." So, I said, "I love you, Aidan." Then he said, "I'll tell you how much," as he pulled my head to whisper in my ear. "I love you forever."

I wish I could record such moments so that in the future, when he doesn't think I'm so cool anymore and refuses to hang out with me, I can hold him to what he said. (Like I actually could, right?)

2007-05-30T12:34:00.000-07:00

The Long Way Home

I only have a few more days left here in the US, and I am feeling somewhat apprehensive about going home. There are so many adjustments to make, and I am not sure how the re-assimilation process will be. The biggest change I am dreading is having to go back to work again at ABS. My life here has been almost like a two-year vacation- no bosses, no co-workers, no office intrigue. Life as a student has been awesome and almost idyllic. Despite my bitching about papers and projects, I would take that life any day over the daily grind of work. (But only if I still received an allowance.)

2007-05-22T15:45:00.000-07:00

The Inexplicable Allure of the Bad Boy

I've always had a weakness for bad boys. A cursory look at my dating history will show this. A long, long time ago, I dated a long-haired photographer who was into shabu (though he said he was over it at the time we were going out), got into bar brawls, and got into a major car accident which resulted in him staying at the ICU for over a month. I remember that he got into another bar brawl complete with chair-flinging AFTER his accident while he was still recovering from his wounds. He's fine now, though he bears a lot of scars from this accident.

I dated another heavy drug user after him, and this one would describe to me the effects of different kinds of drugs, from mushrooms to coke to acid and some other substances I'd never even heard of. If I remember correctly, he eventually checked into rehab. I find bad boys very intriguing, and like a lot of women, I feel myself irresistibly drawn to them.

I recently met a guy who seems, so far, to be the baddest of them all. He has big scars running down the back of his head, because he was shot there. In fact, the bullet is still actually lodged inside his head, since the doctors said it was too tricky to remove it. He was heavily into meth (aka shabu) in high school. Missouri is the meth capital of the US, and apparently, living in a small town (he's from the middle of Nowhere, Missouri) makes you so bored that you're almost obliged to contribute to the state's number one product.

Anyway, I've kept in touch with this guy since I met him at a party. Recently however, he's been harder to get a hold of, because he got arrested for a DWI (driving while intoxicated) and has to serve jail time for five weekends. He also has to render community service on top of this. He chose to do time because in that way he can get his license back more quickly. If he had not agreed to, he would have had his license suspended for a whole year. In a place like Missouri where public transport is practically non-existent, that would have meant his virtual immobility.

It's been very interesting to know someone like him. His world seems to be far removed from mine, and asking him about his life is like experiencing his bad boy existence vicariously. He has become a friend of sorts (he seems to not have any real friends), and strangely enough, I will actually miss him and his rather uncouth ways when I leave the US.

Getting to know him has revealed much to me about a slice of American life that I otherwise would not have been exposed to. I've learned a lot about middle America and how young people navigate their way through it. It also doesn't hurt that he carries with him at all times the programmed-in-the-DNA air of the bad boy. And this is something he doesn't relinquish at all, not even for a minute. Which makes him all the more attractive, of course.

2007-05-21T15:08:00.000-07:00

A very brief entry on the awesomeness of JT

I'm talking about the new-improved Justin Timberlake, of course. Not the Britney-Spears-dating, all-denim-wearing, long-curly-hair-sporting version. Actually, I just like one of the songs from his album "FutureSex/LoveSounds", which I have been listening to repeatedly. "What goes around, goes around, goes around, comes all the way back around..." This former Mouseketeer certainly has a great way of rehashing and imparting Hindu/Buddhist/barbershop wisdom. Even he believes in karma.

2007-05-10T07:27:00.000-07:00

Grades, grades, grades

When I started going to school as a kindergartener, I didn't care about grades. Who did at that age? All we cared about was playing, making new friends, and maybe getting a stamp of a star on our hand to show to our parents when we got home. Then came prep, grade school, high school, and college. All those years, I still didn't care much for them either much to the chagrin of my parents (Maybe if they still gave out star stamps, it would have been a different story).

Decades later, though, this changed. Don't get me wrong, I didn't necessarily change my poor study habits practiced over a lifetime (Cramming has become hardwired into my system). I just CARED more about grades. Maybe it's because I'm in a different country, and so had some desire to prove that Filipinos can hold their own in the first world.

Well, I am very happy to report that I got invited to join the Kappa Tau Alpha journalism honor society. They only invite people with a GPA of 4.0, so I was glad that recent upheavals in my life did not adversely affect my academics as might have been expected. Pasensiya na sa pagyayabang. I know my friends and family will be very happy for me. I was just very excited about this, and it's the first academic goal that I've really been wanting to achieve.

2007-04-24T18:07:00.000-07:00

Romance is Dead

A friend of mine told me a rather interesting story. His best friend, a very successful and intelligent man, has just told him that he's now engaged. What's interesting about this piece of news is that his friend had just met his now-fiancee over the last weekend. JUST this past weekend. So, they met, fell in love, and decided to spend the rest of their lives together within double-digit hours. If I got the story right, they met at a bar where the woman works as a waitress. So, in spite of their disparate backgrounds, and the brevity of their acquaintance, they have decided to tie the knot.

Now, I know a lot of romantics out there will ooh and ahh over how love at first sight is once again proven to exist, and how love really conquers all. And what do I say to these developments? "Bah, humbug!" I can't even begin to imagine how someone sane could do something like that. Maybe I am too cynical (I actually prefer to call myself a "realist") to see how thrilling whirlwind romances can be. All I could think of is, "another divorce statistic waiting to happen".

Is there something wrong with my way of thinking? I honestly don't think so. Love is such a difficult thing to deal with. I believe that using your head along with your heart (or other parts of your anatomy) is simply the best way to go. Relying on your smarts obviously does not automatically ensure the success of your relationship. I just think that the odds are already naturally stacked against relationships working, because the chances that two people will mate (happily) for life are very slim to begin with. Thinking your way through it, I believe, just increases the probability that things will work out.

2007-04-23T17:19:00.000-07:00

I'm a Master!

So... I just want to share the happy news that I successfully defended my project before my committee. I was so nervous before going to the room to meet them. I had rehearsed my presentation while I was still at home (actually, in the shower), but I felt I was losing my nerve as the time to meet them got closer. The defense lasted about an hour, during which they asked me questions about my paper and about my work for the past semester. After the Q&A, they sent me out of the room as they discussed my fate. Then one of them, Prof. Stephanie Craft, went out to look for me. She said "Congratulations!", and with a sigh of relief, I knew they had all signed the document that committee members needed to sign before I could graduate.

I was so happy as they shook my hand to congratulate me. I actually felt like crying, but thankfully didn't. So, even though I still need to log in a few more weeks working on the website of Global Journalist, I am assured of getting my diploma, and after all these years... a Master's degree.

2007-04-22T17:35:00.000-07:00

A bundle of nerves

This weekend, after recovering from the excesses of Friday night, I didn't really do much. I stayed home, and the only time I left my apartment was to have dinner tonight at Taco Bell, which is just a short walk away. They have a new item on the menu- the 7-layer crunch wrap- and I was eager to try it since I only eat two things there; the cheesy bean and rice burrito, and the 7-layer burrito. Pretty much everything else has meat in it.

But the thought of food makes me digress. Back to the unproductivity of the weekend... The reason why I have been feeling antsy and unable to do anything of importance (aside from the fact that I can't overcome my natural sloth), is that I am going to defend my project (the 70-page paper mentioned in an earlier post) before my committee tomorrow. I have four committee members, and they are all very, very nice. However, collectively, they strike terror into my heart because they have the power to decide whether I graduate.

I've been told that the defense process goes like this- you give them a short roundup of what your paper is about (though I had given them the paper last week, there is always that chance that one of them has not read it), then they ask you questions about it. When they're done with their questions, they ask you to leave the room as they decide whether you pass or fail, and therefore also whether you graduate or not. Then they call you back in to tell you your fate.

That is what I'll be going through tomorrow, and it is really making me nervous. My friends have been telling me that I'll be fine. But I guess it's very hard for anyone to relax when you're about to face a group of people who will decide whether you make the grade.

2007-04-21T17:08:00.000-07:00

One Sign of Age

Yesterday, Felicity successfully defended her thesis before her committee for almost two hours. She said it was a nerve-wracking experience, but she passed and so is now a Master. To celebrate, she and Blaine (the boy she's going out with) came over to my house with a bottle of champagne, which we polished off quickly enough. After that, we went to Forge & Vine, a restaurant/bar to meet some other people from the journalism school. We had a few drinks, and because it's a Friday night, the J-School people then headed to Alley Bar.

(A brief background- Alley Bar is a tiny hole in the wall dance club which doesn't really have a name. It's just found in an alley off Ninth Street, and the door is between two dumpsters. Journalism people seem to gravitate to that place every Friday night.)

Alley Bar plays a lot of 80s songs, and all the J-School people sing along to some of them each time I've been there, including Don't Stop Believin' by Journey. Anyway, Felicity, Blaine, and I continued to drink while we danced.

Since all the bars close at 1:30 am in Columbia, we headed to the Hubbell House when we were shooed out of Alley Bar (over here, people actually shout at you if you don't leave their bar at 1:30 on the dot). The Hubbell House is a popular venue for J-School parties (four journalism students live there). It's also a place where a lot of hookups happen, a phenomenon I call the triple H or the Hubbell House Hookup. I didn't drink there anymore, mostly because there was no place to buy alcohol at that time (stores stop selling liquor at 1:30 am as well).

Around 2:30, we left the party, and Felicity and Blaine dropped me off at my apartment. At this point, my head was already reeling from the alcohol that I'd consumed. I drank a lot of water to try and counter its effects (too little, too late), then went to sleep.

I woke up at eight in the morning, drank some more water and some migraine medicine, then went back to bad. By the time I woke up again, it was 3 pm! I couldn't believe that I'd slept so long. That's when I was reminded that even though I hung out with very young people, I myself am not that young. When I was in college, alcohol didn't affect me very much- I was never hungover, and I didn't have to sleep the whole day for my body to recover from a night of boozing. I have to get in better drinking shape though, because there'll be a lot of post-school parties in my last few weeks here. My days as a carefree student are now numbered, and I fully intend to make the best use out of them.

2007-04-17T16:10:00.000-07:00

Consummatum est!

No, no, I have not developed a Messianic complex. I am just joyfully saying "it is finished!" and by "it" I mean my 70-page paper that I needed to submit so I can graduate. All I need to do now is defend it before my committee next week. (Now that's a whole new stresspoint.) They have to approve it before I become a "Master" (of what exactly, I'm not quite sure).

That's all I can write for now, my brain is practically dead as I have been cramming all last night and all day today. (Old habits don't die hard for me. They just cling on for dear life.) It was not the best work that I've ever done, but at least it's DONE.

2007-04-05T17:04:00.000-07:00

The Homestretch

I've been in denial about the amount of work that needs to be done before I can graduate, but I think this time, reality has finally bitten. I just realized that I have only two weeks left to finish my mini-thesis/research paper before I have to send it off to my committee, before whom I will defend the paper and my activities for the whole semester. I've looked at some examples of such research papers done by students from previous semesters, and some of them looked encyclopedic. Meaning, their papers ended up very, VERY thick, much thicker than my paper can ever aspire to be.

Also, because I was foolish enough to enroll for two other classes other than my professional project (which is equivalent to three classes), I am also cramming to finish the requirements for them. As I write this entry, I realize that I probably sound saner than I feel. Sometimes I find myself sitting at home laughing hysterically at the thought of all I have to do just to finish my degree. I know I'll pull through. After a lifetime of cramming, I just know I will. It's just that I also know that at this point, it will take a minor miracle for me to do so.

And after weeks of being unable to sleep, I now find myself getting suspiciously sleepy early in the evening. Suddenly all I want to do is tuck myself in at 7pm. My body seems to know that I have tons of work to do, and is shutting down as a form of protest. My appetite has also made a comeback, in the form commonly known as stress-eating. Eating, after all, has always been one of the best ways to procrastinate.

Hopefully I will get my act together very soon. In the meantime, I think it's time for a nap.

2007-04-01T21:08:00.000-07:00

A Portent of Things to Come

I've been checking my email on my ABS-CBN account, just to make sure I don't miss any important announcements at the office. I don't really like doing this, as this reminds me of the reality that I have to face when I get home. The past year or so, though, there were no earth-shattering memos, so I got complacent and started checking my email expecting only announcements regarding First Friday masses, holiday hours, badminton club schedules, and the like.

My bad. Just this week, two rather disturbing emails arrived at my inbox. The first was about how I owed x-amount of money for the insurance on my car, which I got through the company. The amount was totaled from December 2004 till the present. Weird how they decided to charge me for this NOW. Then, today, I saw an email regarding my accountability for video tapes issued to "F", the now-defunct show where I worked before leaving for the US. This one was even less amusing, since the total amount was nearly P300,000. How I'm going to return those tapes, or pay that amount for that matter, is a real mystery to me.

It's really strange how these matters have come up just now when they've apparently been an issue for a few years. This leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Just as I've adjusted to the thought of coming home, I now have to also adjust to the idea of a rather (financially) unpleasant homecoming.

2007-03-25T07:03:00.000-07:00

Yvette, an Inspiration

I have been chatting with one of my best friends Yvette, who is currently working as a UN volunteer in Sudan. She was my first housemate when I first moved out, and we had some very good times living in the poorly ventilated, rat-infested "chalet" in Quezon City. We spent many nights talking till the wee hours of the morning, staying up till we could no longer wipe the sleep from our eyes. (She actually fell asleep once in the middle of telling her OWN story.)

Yvette has been a source of inspiration for me. She recently went through VERY trying times, been through hell and back, yet she has picked herself up. Not unscathed exactly; burned, definitely; but infinitely stronger and more self-aware. She has finally realized what a fabulous woman she is, and that she deserves to be surrounded only by people who know this as well.

I've been thinking that whatever troubles I may have, Yvette will always be there to support me, to unconditionally take my side, to give solid advice. She also serves as a constant reminder that I can handle whatever life throws at me- the sticks and stones, the heartbreak, the sadness, as well as the blessings. And she inspires to me to handle both the good and the bad with grace, humor, music, and, of course, lots of food.

2007-03-24T18:36:00.000-07:00

Good News/Bad News

I've recently had the rather upsetting experience of getting VERY happy (for a few hours), then getting VERY disappointed. Here's what happened.

A few months ago, I emailed Fulbright-US to ask if I could apply for Academic Training after I graduate. This is the official term for getting a job in the US after graduation when you're on a J-1 visa (those issued to what they call exchange visitors/scholars). My friend Alejandra, a Fulbrighter from Costa Rica, had been allowed to stay to work for up to 18 months after graduating. Your academic training has to be a job that is related to your field. (That means a graduate of the J-School can't apply to be a manager at McDonald's.) So, I emailed Fulbright to find out if I could do the same as Ale did.

I hadn't received any reply, but I applied to some media companies anyway. I thought that if they allowed Ale (and Felicity too) to apply for Academic Training, there was no reason I wouldn't be. Anyway, last week while I was in school, my cell phone rang, and the area code of the number being shown was that of New York. I normally don't answer the phone if I don't know the caller, but the area code got me excited. It turns out that it was InStyle magazine calling to tell me they wanted me to join their editorial team. As you could imagine, I jumped up and down for joy when I got the news. The woman who called me said the details of the offer were in an email that they had sent me. So, I rushed home, then excitedly logged on to read about the offer. Aside from a salary, they were going to provide housing, which was a big thing for me considering the job was in very expensive New York. That night, I couldn't sleep from excitement. I was already planning what to do when I got to the Big Apple.

The very next morning, I finally got a response from Fulbright-US. The email said that Fulbright-Philippines does NOT allow their scholars to take Academic Training. I was crushed. I emailed Fulbright-Philippines immediately, but their response just confirmed what had been said earlier. They don't allow it as a rule, and only TWO people had been allowed to take Academic Training since 1948. I was informed of the appeal process, but I didn't try it anymore. InStyle needed an answer in a few days, and it was unrealistic to think that my case would be decided in that span of time.

I had also applied for another New York job at "Wide Angle", an international investigative program aired on PBS (Public Broadcasting Service). And though they also expressed their interest in hiring me, I could no longer be excited since I knew I couldn't work there anyway.

Talk about good news and bad news. The good news got me all excited, but this happiness made the bad news even more of a downer. I have come to terms with my frustration, though. I've adjusted to the idea that I will come home in June. I guess I should take comfort in the thought that I could be hired by other US media companies in the future.

2007-03-22T15:03:00.000-07:00

Baby Steps

This has been a very stressful time for me, primarily because I have less than two months of school left and I haven't even finished half of the work that I'm supposed to be doing if I intend to graduate. There is a strong tendency for me to be overwhelmed by my situation, including finishing my mini-thesis, worrying about packing all my stuff and moving again (to another country!), having to go back to work at ABS-CBN, leaving the friends that I've made here, and all the other things involved when one phase of your life is set to end.

I do have a penchant for worrying about things all at once, since I figure if I'm stressing out about one thing, I might as well stress out about everything else at the same time. Kind of like getting the most mileage out of the emotional low. However, I am trying not to be so negative because I don't want to waste the little time that I have left here in Columbia, so I revel in little things that make me happy within a day.

One little thing that made me happy yesterday is that I finished a project that I had been working on for school. I made an interactive map for the website of Global Journalist, the magazine that I'm working for as part of my professional project for my final semester (I have the very fancy and rather undeserved title of "Online Director" at the magazine). Click here to see the map that I made. I guess finishing that map made me remember that I came here primarily to learn a lot of stuff, and this was proof that I actually did.

2007-03-12T18:11:00.000-07:00

Seeing a Therapist

Part of the student fee that I pay, or rather, Fulbright pays for, includes health care. This covers a lot of services (like earwax removal, wart removal, and other fun stuff), including free sessions with a psychotherapist or a psychiatrist. So I thought, since I'd never used these freebies before, now is as good a time as any to make use of them. In the Philippines, seeing a therapist is not very common. Usually, when I hear of people talking to a professional about their problems, it would be a marriage counselor or some such person. I rarely hear of people going to a therapist for problems as an individual. It takes a lot for a Filipino to admit that she or he needs professional help. Maybe it's because we have a lot of support systems like family and friends, who are expected to help us through all our problems. (We're probably also worried that people will talk behind our backs and call us crazy.)

I tried to book a session last week, but the first session that was available was an hour this afternoon. Apparently, Mizzou students have no problem with seeking professional help. I went to the Student Health Center for my appointment, met my therapist (wow, how American) Dr. Susan, and though there was no couch in her room, there was a very comfortable lounging chair to sit on. We just chatted for an hour about what I'd been thinking about, and Susan was very easy to talk to. The time flew by, and they have a clock right in front of you as a reminder of how much of your hour you have left. (Americans, if anything, are efficient.)

It was a pleasant experience, mostly because a person is forced to listen to you for an hour and they CAN'T complain. I mean, it's great to have friends who are willing to listen to you for hours on end, and in fairness, none of mine have complained one iota about lending an ear. But I can't help but sometimes feel guilty about talking ad nauseam about my problems to them, even if the circumstances justify it. Now, If someone is actually paid to listen to you, they have no choice but to do just that. And they can't really tune you out, pretend to listen, and just nod at appropriate moments, because they have to give you some input at the end of the session to prove that they'd been listening to you all that time.

Now, I understand why a lot of Americans are hooked on therapy. I'm going again next week.

2007-03-08T06:57:00.000-08:00

Off-topic

I'm taking a breather from my personal affairs to talk about another person's more interesting life. Tomorrow night, there will be a farewell party for one of the J-School's students, a photojournalism major named Leah Gallo. She's leaving us in the middle of the semester for London because she's been asked by Tim Burton (director of Batman, Edward Scissorhands, Big Fish, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, etc, etc...) to shoot photos on the set of Sweeney Todd. Apparently, Mr. Burton has this tradition of having photos taken to document the filming process, and then compiling them into a book which he then gives as a gift to members of his crew. Leah is the lucky one chosen to shoot the photos for this book.

This is great news for Leah, who's both talented and beautiful. Felicity and I are jealous not just because this is such a wonderful career opportunity for her, but mostly because Sweeney Todd is played by Johnny Depp, whom we both believe to be one of the hottest men (if not THE hottest man) on planet Earth. I mean, it's one thing to be working on the set of a movie starring, let's say... Jack Nicholson; it's totally unbelievable that she'll be seeing Johnny Depp every day for a couple of months!

Haha, so this entry is a good indicator that I'm in much better spirits. If I can be shallow enough to rave about a Hollywood actor (although Johnny Depp is not just any old actor), then you can bet I'm nowhere near being depressed, nor am I in danger of becoming an alcoholic. (Though Fil and I might have a drink or two to drown our envy during the party.)

I'll be fine.

2007-03-05T18:43:00.000-08:00

A Few Good Men

I've had a long day at school, so I don't have much energy for the entry I so wanted to write today. Instead, I will paste here a note from one of my guy friends that I received PBU (post-breakup). I have very few male friends, so it's always interesting to see what they have to say, especially about matters of the heart. I mean, my girl friends are very attuned to what I feel because of how close I am to them, so they are bound to instinctively say what I need to hear (bless their hearts). They only tell me the blunt truth when I ask for it, and they sugarcoat it even then. My male friends, on the other hand, just tend to say whatever's on their mind. Here is what this friend of mine wrote when I told him about the breakup news.

"Wow. I'm both sad and happy for you.
On one hand, regardless of the civil status, you were, in effect committed to the guy.
On the other, he should've moved heaven and earth to keep you, and now he won't have that chance. Idiot.
In any case, that privilege will be bestowed upon someone else."

I was particularly touched by his note, because my friendship with him is at a rather cerebral level, even as we would speak about personal matters. I highly respect this friend of mine for both his intelligence and his character, and he's actually one of the few remaining men I consider truly decent. He's one reason why despite my recent debacle, I still believe that good men do exist. Which is a good sign, indicating that although I've become even more cynical, I've not become embittered for life. Not just yet.

2007-03-04T08:53:00.000-08:00

Panic Attack

As the title of my entry implies, I am undergoing a panic attack. The past few weeks have left me unable to concentrate on my studies, and I feel like the work has just piled up. I'm facing yet another Monday unprepared for what is to be done, with papers that have yet to be written, pictures that have yet to be taken, computer programs yet to be learned. Suddenly, my previously important goal of trying to maintain a 4.0 grade point average is the least of my worries; simply keeping myself afloat seems such an insurmountable task at this point. I know I have to keep myself busy and try to distract myself with what needs to be done, but I haven't recovered enough, emotionally, to do this. Grades just don't seem all that important to me now.

I have learned from past failures (failed relationships, to be precise) that no matter how bleak things seem to be, I will be fine eventually. Right now though, I'm just trying to take things one day at a time. Each day, trying to get some sleep that lasts for more than a couple of hours; forcing myself to get out of bed at below freezing temperatures to go to class; trying to hold back tears in public places; gauging how much anger and how many tears I have left in me. I can't say each day is always better than the one before; some days are simply worse than others. Recovery from these things after all is not linear. I'm trying not to rush myself through this, although I am really getting impatient. I want to feel better RIGHT NOW, get the drama over and done with RIGHT NOW. But, of course that's impossible. As Alanis sang, the only way out is through.

On the plus side, I still have not recovered my appetite. At the very least, this experience, just as similar ones in the past, have the side effect of weight loss. I have been working on losing my holiday weight gain, but I do wish the solution hadn't come at such a cost.

2007-03-03T00:53:00.000-08:00

A Few Helpful Suggestions

As I have mentioned in an earlier post, I have been getting a lot of emails, messages, IMs, and whatnot, from friends, all giving their words of support. An interesting aspect of these messages from my friends is the range of suggestions they had in terms of things that I could do to make myself feel better. They range from baby steps that I could take to get through each day, to rather drastic measures that they thought would make me feel... let's just say... instantly gratified. Here are a few examples of these ideas.

Open a Word document and just type and type whatever comes to mind, while having a glass of wine.
Lift problems to God.
Get a fabulous haircut.
Ipapatay ang mga salarin.
Find a new man.
Think of how miserable their life together will be.
Immerse self in studies.
Put on Beyonce's "Irreplaceable" and play in apartment full-blast.
Learn to forgive.
Ipakulam ang mga salarin.
Believe that karma will bite them in the butt.
Talk to a psychotherapist.
Have random sex with strangers.
Remember that you are better off without him.
Spit on offending parties when spotted.
Go to the gym frequently to release happy hormones.
Become an alcoholic (but only until emotional turmoil has ceased).
Binge on as much chocolate as desired.
Take sleeping pills and mind-altering drugs as needed.

Some of these suggestions are more attractive to me than others, so I have yet to decide exactly which ones I'll take. Obviously, I can't do all of the above, though I'll definitely try some of them. The rest will have to remain fantasies to indulge in. I am still very open to other suggestions, though; so shoot me a note if there's anything else that's been missed out.

2007-03-01T06:09:00.000-08:00

The Five Stages of Grief

Another one bites the dust. So, step right up to another round of... "The Five Stages of Grief".

I'm out of Denial, and I'm definitely over Bargaining. I'm at the part that is supposed to be the most fun- Anger. However, I was never really good at Anger. Having suppressed it for most of my life, I don't know exactly how to express it properly. Usually, when I'm really mad, I just end up crying/bawling in frustration, and raising my voice as I tell a friend the story behind my rage. The only thing that instantly gave me release back home was the Primal Scream which results in a sore throat (pleasantly accompanied by a lighter feeling). But since I have no car around here to do that in privacy, any attempt at doing this in my apartment could result in a frantic 911 call from a neighbor and my subsequent deportation.

I wish I could throw things around, bash plates on the ground, punch a hole in the the wall, or do something destructive and physical that would immediately release some of the negative energy pervading me. But, I'm too practical for that. I would think too much of the literal cost of the damage ("But this is Corelle and I won't be able to afford another set on my student allowance.").

I also wish I could go up to people who had hurt me, say every word in my dictionary of foul language (which is rather comprehensive and I have to say, pretty impressive), and try to hurt them with words. But that's rather coarse, and causes enduring damage as well. Not my cup of tea.

Then there's the sticks-and-stones approach. In my fantasies, I accidentally see the people who had hurt me, and proceed to give them a stiff uppercut, preferably resulting in a couple of lost teeth. BUT... Although I am physically strong enough to do this, I am not violent enough for it. If violence prevents me from eating meat, it will certainly stop me from hitting people.

So, there seems to be very little recourse for me.

There is an obscure story about me that I will disclose, although it is REALLY embarrassing. REALLY. It will give you an idea of just how badly I deal with anger. Years and a lifetime ago, I had a fight with my then-boyfriend Gambie during a student conference in Japan, because he kept hanging out with this six-foot German girl despite my protestations. I told him that the time they spent together was bothering me (hmmmm... deja vu?), and he refused to cut their time together. After a heated exchange, I burst out in tears (as usual) and went out of the cottage where we had our little tiff.

I was furious at him and his refusal to listen to me. So... what did I do? I was so mad that I went deep into the woods behind the cottage for some privacy, and... DANCED (while crying!!!) to the tune of Madonna's "Express Yourself", music provided by moi. And I was serious about it. I sang "Don't go for second best baby, PUT YOUR LOVE TO THE TEST!" at the top of my lungs. "Second best is never enough, you'll do much better baby ON YOUR OWN!", I sang as I sobbed. And if I remember correctly, I was dancing a mutant form of the running man. (Well, I was obviously temporarily insane and not to be held accountable for this.)

The point is, many years have passed since then and I still have not found a good way to release my anger. In my younger years, Madonna and a few bad moves helped me do it. Even that, although really humiliating, was far more effective than anything else I've tried in recent history. All I've done in the immediate past is recount what I went through to a friend, and then another one, and another one, until they get sick of hearing about what made me so mad.

Maybe I just can't do Anger right. Or at least I can't do it at will. Don't get me wrong, Anger does strike me, very strongly at that... as I tell my story to a friend and my body involuntarily starts to shake; or as I lie in bed and a wave of impotent rage comes over me and brings hot, angry tears to my eyes.

So for now, I deal with Anger in a protracted manner; by making it dissipate each time I bore yet another person with the details of my personal drama, by organizing my thoughts into this blog. Anger is just too tiring. I do wish I could get rid of it in one dramatic burst, instead of having to be surprised by it little by little at the most inopportune of moments.

Come on, Anger, go away. I can't wait to get into Depression.

2007-02-28T11:15:00.000-08:00

The Myth of the "Good Guy"

During my first semester in the U.S. and I was just beginning to be friends with Felicity, she asked me why I didn't date. (She herself had an active dating life here in Columbia.) I told her, "I have a boyfriend back home". She began to ask me what Caye was like, and what I liked about Caye. "He's nice," I said. "And don't think that's a lame answer. That is in fact, the highest of praises," I added. To clarify, I told her that in my experience, nice guys are so very hard to find. It's easy enough to find men who are good looking or rich; but nice guys? They're the holy grail of relationships, as far as I was concerned. I elaborated further. "He's a good person. Most of all, he's kind."

Caye had always been Mr. Nice Guy; he even looked the part. Boyish good looks, a clean-shaven face, dimples, and a smile that would make any mother wish him on her daughter. Because he looked like such a good guy, people would always assume that when we had a fight, it was because of something I had done. If I told a friend that he and I had fought, she would say, "What did you do to Caye?" I remember telling Donna, my makeup artist at ABS-CBN, that Caye and I had had an argument. I shared this information with her after she asked me why my eyes looked like I had been crying. Her response to what I said... "Bakit mo naman inaway si Caye?"

Recent developments have shown that Caye is not the good guy that everyone (including Caye himself) thought he was. And I think this is why so many of my girl friends reacted with such disappointment and anger at how we broke up. Caye made many of us believe that there are nice guys out there that treat women well. Men who are decent; men who are good. I doubt that my friends would have reacted as strongly as they did if they had perceived Caye as a jerk. My friends were therefore not just disappointed for me, per se; they were also disappointed for THEMSELVES. Caye not just broke my heart, he also shattered THEIR belief in good guys. This was a recurring theme in some of my friends' responses to the situation. "He's not a nice guy after all. He fooled all of us." "I've lost some faith in good guys." "I really thought he was a nice guy."

This whole experience has left me and probably some of my friends just a tad more jaded. Maila's P.S. in her email summed up this cynicism in five words... "wala nga atang "good boy".

2007-02-27T11:12:00.000-08:00

The Fallacy of the Platonic Friendship

For those of you who haven't as yet heard the gory details, here is a summary of events that led to our breakup.

Everything between Caye and I had been okay, despite my leaving in August 2005 to study here in Missouri. We managed to communicate and maintain our relationship with the use of webcams and email.

Before Christmas 2006, his best friend Corinne broke up with her boyfriend Richard. I remember during one of my video chats with Caye that she was there in his house with Popie (they are quite the triumvirate), and I remember feeling bad for her. (I have a soft spot for breakup survivors.) So during the holidays, they spent an inordinate amount of time together; Caye and Corinne, that is. Supposedly to comfort each other- Caye comforted Corinne about her breakup, she comforted him during a Gidget-less Christmas. They wrote about each other (praises, praises, praises!) on their blogs, they drew up a list of "100 things to do before I die" with each other, they ticked off said items together (Corinne wanted to go ice skating and learn to change a tire, and Caye obliged; she taught him to cook, which was on his list), they did yoga together, they drank almost every night together, they listened to "Postal Service" together.

Since I, unlike them, was not in denial and was seeing through all this all too clearly and the danger that their behavior posed, I emailed Caye about how worried I was about the time they were spending together, how they were discussing their hopes and dreams, and how they seemed to be getting too emotionally intimate. I made it clear to Caye that I saw exactly what was happening. He tried to reassure me by saying "Get that out of your head. It's unthinkable. Corinne is like a little sister to me." (Apparently, they later on decided that incest is best, but I digress.)

After emailing my concerns, Caye's behavior toward me deteriorated. He continued to see Corinne very often, and hardly logged on to chat with me. I again emailed him about how I was feeling neglected, and how I was getting very jealous of Corinne. The week before the breakup, I texted him, but he simply did not respond. For a week. He made no effort to contact me through the many ways available to him. That week was hell for me. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't focus on my studies. I didn't know if he was still alive, if he was in the hospital, but deep inside, I knew something bad was going on.

I asked Tintin to text Caye just to find out if was still alive. Since he did respond to her, and he didn't sound like he was in the ICU, I decided to give in to my rage, my sheer unadulterated anger for being totally ignored. After all, I was his girlfriend of almost nine years. I deserved to know what was going on, no matter how painful it would be. I didn't deserve to be shoved to the side while he threshed out his issues. At the very least, he should have informed me that he was thinking some things through.

Last Sunday, I decided I had had enough. I called his cell, and when he answered, he said he was in a movie and would call me later. I said I wanted to talk right then, but because of technical difficulties or his refusal to talk to me then, I waited until he got home so we could video chat.

He messaged me that he emailed me something, and that we should chat only after I had read it. So, there it was... the horrible words... "over the past couple of months I have developed feelings for Corinne...". What really made me furious was the phrase "she is one of my closest friends and the last person i thought i would have feelings for. But that is what happened." What did he mean this is "WHAT HAPPENED"? These things DON'T just happen, unless you're 15 years old and don't know better. Love is a decision. Emotional intimacy does not "just happen". You don't spend all your waking hours outside of work with a person and not expect feelings to develop!

Besides, if I could see it happening as early as Christmas, they sure as hell knew exactly what was going on. And they both allowed it. That's why I hold them both accountable; after all, it takes two to tango. They got in deep, and there is always a point where you can tell yourself "This is wrong. This has got to stop." But they both chose to cross that point, also known as the point of no return.

So that is "WHAT HAPPENED". Caye chose not to honor his commitment to me, and Corinne was his willing accomplice. They are not star-crossed innocent lovers who were suddenly struck by a lightning bolt of love. They are both guilty of causing all this heartbreak. As Gigi said in her last email, "Falling in love with someone doesn't JUST HAPPEN. This isn't the movies."

2007-02-26T21:39:00.000-08:00

The Benefits of Technology (and having true friends)

As it turns out, technology has been very useful to me. Aside from Felicity, no one else is physically here to be a shoulder to cry on after my breakup. But after I emailed my friends and family about the news, everyone responded immediately. They emailed, they texted, they logged on to Yahoo! messenger and iChat, they called. I am so grateful to have such great friends, who are there for me even if they are miles and miles away. Yvette called from Africa, Gigi chatted with me from Australia, Anne texted and called me from New York, Chi, James and Kennie called from the Philippines, Anjou texted from Hong Kong, Karmina messaged me on Friendster from Philadelphia, Kuya Bong left a comment on my blog from Cambodia. Biljana emailed me from Serbia, Kuya and Liz from LA, Iva logged on to YM from Virginia; Gilson, Mariann, Eileen, Lissa, and John emailed from the Philippines, Tintin, Gines and Angel chatted with me from home as well.

Obviously, I practically emailed the whole world about my situation ;) But then again, in times like these, one has to lean heavily on one's friends. Since they are all great friends, they don't mind being leaned on anyway. I thank them all for being so supportive, and knowing exactly what to say to/text/message/email me to make me feel better. You are all great. Thanks so much for everything, and especially to those who are drinking a beer with me in spirit.

2007-02-25T18:41:00.000-08:00

Breaking up in the New Millennium

Relationships have been given a new dimension by the electronic age. When I was in high school, text messaging and cellphones were non-existent. Therefore, when a boy liked a girl, he had to gather enough guts to ask for a girl's home phone number; and harder still, muster enough courage to actually call her and risk having her parents answer the phone. Girls, of course, would never think of asking for a guy's number.

Then came text messaging. It became easier to get a girl's, or a guy's cell number. A casual "I'll text you about our class meeting", or some such lame excuse would naturally result in an exchange of numbers. Of course, email has also been around for awhile. Now there's Friendster, MySpace, Facebook, and other social networking sites where you can just message each other and establish relationships of some sort. Technology simply made starting relationships much easier, and changed the face of the wooing process.

But what do all these developments mean though when you're having a breakup? Well, you realize that you have quite a long electronic trail to erase to be able to vent your anger and ease your pain. Whereas before, a simple gathering of love letters and pictures and putting them in a shoebox would suffice, now, you have to attend to several things to erase him from your memory (in your hard drive or your brain). Since this is the first breakup I've had in the uber-Internet age, these are the things that I realized I've had to do.

1. Remove him from my Yahoo! messenger contact list.
2. Remove his friends from my Yahoo! messenger contact list.
3. Remove him from my iChat contact list.
4. Erase the message history of all our chats from my Adium messenger (some dating back to 2005). Also, remove his name from Adium messenger contact list.
5. Change my status on Friendster, MySpace, and Facebook from "In a Relationship" to "Single".
6. Remove the offending parties from my Friendster list of friends. (People who knowingly cause you pain don't deserve to be called friends.)
7. Remove his contact information from my Palm Pilot.
8. Remove his special folder from my email inbox.
9. Delete all his emails.
10.Delete all his digital photos in emails, and in my iPhoto library.
11.Remove his number from my cellphone.
12.Remove links to blogs of offending parties from my blog.

I haven't even finished doing all the above, among other things I have to do to be able to shove the past eight and a half years into the annals of history. And I'm sure there are other things I might have forgotten that are still floating around on the World Wide Web.

On the plus side, I don't have to bother with shoeboxes or letter-burning anymore. Deleting someone from your life is now simply a wireless mouseclick away. If I can't have the eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, I'll settle for the temporary solace of the Caye-free computer.

2007-02-09T13:31:00.000-08:00

Old Dog, New Tricks

I've been feeling overwhelmed by school, and it's barely been a month since classes began. I thought about why I felt so swamped, and I realized that aside from signing up for 15 credit hours (the usual full-time grad school load per semester is only 9 credit hours), the classes I've signed up for all entail learning new computer programs and many other skills. For my photojournalism class, for example, there are so many skills I need to learn, and fast. Composing shots, knowing how my camera works and how to make good use of light, telling a story through your pictures, etc. But on top of these basic skills any photojournalist needs to learn, I also need to learn Photoshop and InDesign, which I am only vaguely familiar with.

Then for my mapping for journalists class, I need to learn to use a mapping software called ArcView which enables you to plot a lot of information onto a map. And for my work at globaljournalist.org , I've been assigned the task of webmaster (lord knows why, since I know next to nothing about webmastering), and so I have to learn how to use Dreamweaver. ARRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!

My poor brain can only take so much. Maybe if I got exposed to all these programs when I was in college (and much younger), it would have been a breeze to learn them all. Instead, I'm learning them now, when my brain cells have been diminished in number by various toxic substances, and the synapses are no longer what they were. I have to almost plod along until my brain somehow absorbs the information.

Despite my awareness that my mind just isn't what it used to be, I am happy that I am still able to learn at all. Not as quickly as I would've been able to years ago, but nonetheless, it remains quite a feat that this old dog is still able to learn some newfangled tricks.

2007-01-20T21:42:00.000-08:00

Three Good Things

I am a pessimist. Definitely a "glass half-empty" kinda girl. I remember realizing and articulating this to myself as early as the fifth grade. I am not lucky enough to have Biljana's "lifelong subscription to pink eyeshades :)". I've often thought that wearing rose-colored glasses just causes you to trip, stumble, or lose your way.

There are advantages to being a pessimist. You are not as disappointed as others might be when things don't turn out well, mostly because that's exactly what you expected to happen. However, it can also make your mood dark and even unhappy for extended periods of time, because you fail to see the good that often does happen.

Felicity told me of one way to fight such dark moods in a very practical manner. She said that everyday, you should think of three good things that happened to you. At the beginning, you might find it hard to accomplish this seemingly simple task. But eventually, you will find even more than just three things to celebrate each day.

It's nearly midnight now, and I've only thought of two good things that happened today. Looks like I need a lot more practice before I get the hang of this positive thinking thang.

2007-01-12T16:18:00.000-08:00

Again, Post-Vacation Blues

I'm back in CoMO, and I can't believe that I hadn't been here for 24 hours yet before an ice storm struck. Yes, we are in the middle of a severe ice storm, which is worse than a snow storm. That's because ice makes the roads so slippery, much more so than snow. So, I'm stuck at home, unable to do anything that involves venturing out of my apartment. In an attempt at being productive, I tried to walk to the laundromat; but even if it's just a few feet away from my apartment, the sleet just made it extremely difficult.

So I have no choice but to stay here alone at home, cursing the storm and longing for the balmy Cali weather that I left behind just a day ago. Because of all this time on my hands, I'm also forced to think about things that I pushed to the back of my mind over the holidays, such as the impending end of my 2-year long vacation... oops, I meant studies.

My stint at Missouri has given me a false sense that reality has been suspended back home; that people, places, and things were frozen in time and that they will be exactly the way they were when I left. This is also commonly known as denial. However, I know that when I get home after I graduate, I will feel out of sorts. Two years after all, is two years.

The company I work for has undergone a lot of changes; Chino, Trixi, and Quincho have grown a little bit or even a lot; my favorite restaurants may have closed or changed menus; people will have moved on without me; and relationships with those close to me may be awkward. It is just not very easy to pick up where you left off when so much has changed.

This ice storm better not last too long. It's making me sad.

2007-01-08T23:22:00.000-08:00

The End Is Near

I've been in Cali for a little bit more than three weeks now, and it's been nonstop eating and doing touristy things since Day 1. Because my parents, my brother John, and his wife Tin are here from the Philippines, we tried to see all the sights we could and do the whole Southern California tourist bit... Disneyland, Legoland, Seaworld, San Diego Zoo, and today, Universal Studios. It's also been a great excuse to eat at new places, and generally just to eat a lot (I cannot even begin to count the bags of blazin' hot Cheetos and gallons of ice cream consumed). It's been fun, but a bit tiring and extremely fattening. I will definitely need to detoxify and decompress after all this through the vital post-vacation vacation.

I'm flying home to Columbia, Missouri on Thursday, and classes don't start till Tuesday. I have a few days to ruminate (which I failed to do as the year 2007 began), as well as counteract what I like to call the "water retention" which took place after excessive salt and carb consumption, before I go back to school.

I'm now a bit sad not just because I won't see my family again for awhile, but also because I don't know when I will get another month-long break after I graduate. I know this last semester will whizz by and before I know it I will have to think about what I want to do with the rest of my life and stop slacking (at least for a while).

You would think that these things get easier when you get older, but they don't, at least not for me. Case in point, after watching Shamu and the dolphins at Seaworld, I thought that I should study to become a marine biologist (Okay, okay. I confess, the first thing I thought of wanting to be after the show was an animal trainer). This, after spending the last couple of years trying to get my Master's in journalism.

It's strange to be so old and still not know what you want to be when you grow up.

2007-01-01T21:52:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!

Since it's the first day of the new year, I feel compelled to write an entry to start 2007 right. Right now though, I have no profound thoughts to share, no funny anecdotes to tell. Just a couple of things.

First, I've decided that I should do as Bridget Jones did (which Felicity reminded me about when I talked to her about resolutions), and put my New Year's resolutions into effect on January 2. After all, it really is unreasonable and plain unrealistic to go on a diet and live a clean life immediately after New Year's Eve, when you are still reeling from your excesses.

The other thing is, I've been thinking of a short mantra to keep in mind (like Caye did) as I head onto the year. You know, the kind that makes you feel that there's SOMEthing you at least try to live by. One I thought of is a line from Little Miss Sunshine, which my family and I just finished watching a few minutes ago. It comes from the conversation between Frank and Dwayne, my two favorite characters in the movie. The 15-year-old Nietzsche fan said, "Do what you love, and f**k the rest". Amen.

2006-12-20T22:59:00.000-08:00

The Inevitable Holiday Weight Gain

I'm now in California to spend my holiday break at my brother Jerick's. It's been great seeing him, Liz, and Aidan again. What I'm not so happy about is how I've managed to put on five pounds since I got here just three days ago. Argh. My parents are arriving from the Bay Area tomorrow, then my other brother John and his wife Tintin are arriving on Tuesday. I'm really excited to see them. I'm just dreading the weight gain that will come with all our holiday celebrations, which will surely be aplenty.

One small consolation about gaining weight in the U.S. over the holidays is that you can hide it all under winter wear. Nobody notices that you've gotten fatter since you wear so many layers of clothing. Besides, in the very unlikely event that someone does comment on your expanding waistline, you can always tell them you are just wearing a lot of thermal underwear underneath your clothes. Also on the plus side, the added fat will keep you warm, and keep your bottom padded in case you fall on it if you slip on the snow.

2006-12-10T21:54:00.000-08:00

Snow Fun

The snow has been around for a week and I finally gathered enough momentum to get out of my house and do snow-related things before it all finally melted. Temperatures are rising a bit so that is likely to happen soon. I thought I really should go out, because a tropical girl doesn't often get a chance to play in the snow. Actually, to be honest, getting out of my apartment was not really my idea. My friends Maria-Ines (from Peru) and Geraldine (from Venezuela) called and invited me to go sledding, and so that finally pushed me to leave my warm bed. I was so glad I did, because it was the first time for me to go sledding. It was a lot like bodyboarding on the sea (if you lie forward on the board, that is), and a speed rush is always fun.

After we got tired from all the sledding (the tiring part was trudging uphill to start again), we decided to go to Maria-Ines' apartment and make a snowman there, since she had a lot of snow near her parking lot. It sounds like a dorky thing to do, but it turned out to be more fun than I expected. Maybe part of the fun was due to the fact that I ate a lot of the cereal that we used for the snowman's eyes.

2006-12-08T10:02:00.000-08:00

Worst Snowstorm in 10 Years

Last week, Mid-Missouri had its worst snowstorm in ten years. And lucky me, I was right here when it happened. We had no class last Friday (unfortunately I really didn't have class that day), and so everyone just enjoyed the snow day. Some of my friends were lucky enough to have lived within walking distance from other friends, and they went sledding. I was extremely jealous, since none of my friends lived nearby. To compensate, I put some snow in a cup and made a sprite snowcone.

Being snowed in and not being brave enough to face the cold, I just stepped right outside my door and made a snow angel, after which I scurried back into the warmth of my apartment. A snow angel is something I've never made before, and it will probably be some time before I can do it again. I'm still waiting for enough energy to make a snowman, but the snow will probably melt before that happens.

2006-11-30T16:23:00.000-08:00

Missouri Weather

The weather here in Missouri never ceases to amaze me. Don't get me wrong, this does not mean I have any kind of positive feeling toward it. It's amazing in the sense that my friend eating seven Big Macs in one sitting is amazing. It's not right, but it's still a cause of wonder and grudging respect.

Yesterday, the day started at a pleasantly chilly 14 C, the kind of weather where back in the Philippines, you would take out your thickest sweater and revel at the chance to wear it. By the time I got home from school, the temperature had dropped to 0 C, which, as every school child is taught at an early age, is the point when water freezes.

Then today, as I was about to move from one building to another, I saw and heard little pellets that looked like rice falling from the sky. This, apparently, was sleet, which I had never seen before. An hour after that, snow began to fall. Snow is pretty to look at, and nice to take pictures of, but it's very hard to walk in, especially if you don't have a car and have to walk everywhere.

I have to admit though that I'm pretty excited to wake up tomorrow morning, because there's supposed to be a foot of snowfall overnight. I haven't seen that yet, since when it snowed here last year (which happened maybe about twice) it would just be an inch or so. My undergrad classmates in convergence are planning to go sledding this weekend, and that sounds like fun. Certainly something I've never done before.

2006-11-28T21:40:00.000-08:00

The High Cost of Studying at Ellis Library

It's the last three weeks of classes, and as always, I am cramming all my requirements into these very limited remaining hours of school. This means I have been spending inordinate amounts of time at the library, which closes at 2am. I am not really a nerd who likes hanging out there. It's just that if I stayed at home to work, I would inevitably fall asleep in the comfort of my bed instead of getting stuff done. It would be very hard for me to sleep in the library, because I refuse to be seen drooling in mid-dream at a very public place. So, Ellis library it's been, and for the past two nights, Felicity and I have been staying till the library police with their shiny badges shoo us away at 2am.

One unfortunate side effect of staying at the library for extended periods of time (yesterday we were there for more than 12 hours) is that you end up spending a lot. First of all, I have to eat out since I don't have time to prepare food and take it to school to eat. (When you are employed, this is not a big deal. When you're a poor student, eating out could mean you go without food the week after). Secondly, there's a coffee shop on the first floor of Ellis and I've been spending on overpriced triple espressos (the coffee shop is run by Starbucks) to keep me awake. Of course, there's also the occasional cookie (or two) bought as a reward for a paper completed.

So, if I'm not careful, I will be both burnt out and poor by the time this semester draws to a close.

2006-11-06T18:22:00.000-08:00

Good News and Bad News

I got very sad upon reading the news the other day, and learning that if we don't change the way we treat our marine life, there will be no wild fish left to eat in the whole world in 50 years. 50 years!! I'll still be alive by then, and there'll be nothing left for me to eat! I'll be ancient AND hungry! Seriously though, that's pretty depressing news. The Philippines in particular has (or used to have) such great marine biodiversity, but with overfishing, dynamite fishing, and the like, it's all disappearing very quickly.

On the plus side, (former) Pastor Ted Haggard who headed the National Association of Evangelicals has admitted to "sexual immorality" and was booted out by his religious group. How is this good news, you ask? Well, in the sense that hypocrisy has been unmasked, that's how. His earlier admission that he bought methamphetamine but did use it; then, that he hired a gay prostitute but only got a massage was just ridiculous. Not to mention that he was vocally against gay marriage even as he was paying for gay sex.

It seems the prostitute/escort, who was named Mike Jones, went public with the allegations that Haggard had transactional sex with him because the leader has supported a measure that would ban gay marriage. Jones said he was also angry that Haggard condemned gay sex in public.

Who would have thought a prostitute would have more balls to stand for his beliefs than a national religious leader? (Then again, with other developments in the news about religious figures, that may not come as too much of a surprise anymore.)

2006-10-29T19:58:00.000-08:00

Going Crazy from School Work

This is going to be a brief entry to state that the load this semester is just crazy! For some strange reason, I thought I would coast along this semester. Well, apparently I was misinformed. I'm just dragging myself from week to week trying to remember when papers or projects are due, then inevitably cramming to meet the deadline. This is one time when I wish I had made time management a priority as far as developing skills is concerned. (right now my amazing ability to remember people's birthdays is not very helpful.)

Don't get me wrong; I'm not exactly lamenting my lot in life. I would still rather be spending sleepless nights trying to stretch my five-page paper into one that's 15 pages long, than holding a staff meeting in the office. Life is still pretty good; I just have to remind myself of this whenever I start to lose hope of turning in a paper on time and feel like pulling all of my hair out.

2006-10-04T16:18:00.000-07:00

When Fashion Gets Ridiculous

I'm going to be totally shallow here, and do some uncharacteristic ranting about fashion. Some friends of mine have heard my take on this matter, and since they're sick of hearing me talk about it, I had to find another place to vent.

A few months ago, all the women's magazines and fashion experts announced that the new trend that was going to take the world by storm was skinny pants, and leggings. I couldn't believe my eyes and ears. LEGGINGS! SKINNY PANTS! Suddenly, I was barraged by images from fashions past- visions of supertight stretch "baston" jeans with side zippers, as well as women in leggings outlining each and every sordid detail of their saddlebag thighs (mine included). There's a VERY good reason those went out of style years and years ago. They make women look short! They're unflattering! They're downright UGLY. Next to oversized shoulder pads, these were fashion mistakes that never should have been committed again.

Sure, Hollywood stars can carry them well. Lindsay Lohan, Nicole Richie, Mischa Barton, all look fabulous in them. Then again, they all probably weigh 80 pounds apiece, and they'd probably look good EVEN in oversized shoulder pads. The point is, skinny jeans (and leggings) are only meant to be worn by SKINNY people. Which means, only about twelve people in the whole world can pull them off with panache.

Call me envious, call me bitter. I just hate how fashion experts are saying that bootleg jeans (which are universally flattering) are OUT, and these silly skinny pants and leggings are in. Of course, I also know they're trying to make more money since women have been hanging on to their figure-flattering bootlegs for dear life, and haven't done as much shopping in the past few years as they usually have. But come ON! Women finally find something that looks good on almost everyone, and there you are trying to convince them they'd be better off wearing something that makes their legs look like sausages.

On the plus side, this trend has been around for a few months now, and I'm glad to report that women have not embraced it blindly. I've only seen a few trend followers actually wearing these things, and thankfully, it's usually because they're one of the twelve people who actually look good in them. It's nice to see that women are no longer total slaves to fashion, and that some of us have actually realized that some trends are just not for everyone. I for one will wear my bootleg pants till kingdom come.

2006-09-13T14:57:00.000-07:00

Myheritage.com

There's a website that Caye told me about called myheritage.com, and among other things, it tells you which celebrities you (supposedly) look like. You upload a picture of your face, then the site scans it to see which among the celebrities in their database you look like the most. The site suggests uploading several pictures of yourself to see which celebrities come up the most consistently.

Now, this CAN be an ego-boosting exercise, since the celebrities in their database are all goodlooking. So it's very likely that your match will be a lot more gorgeous than you actually are. However, be warned that their face-matching program does not take into account your gender. So, some of your matches might be members of the opposite sex. If you're a woman and you are told that you look like Wesley Snipes, this is not likely to be flattering. So if you have a fragile ego, take heed.

Here is an example of the results that I got. You can safely assume I did not choose the one that said I looked like some dude.

2006-09-12T13:52:00.000-07:00

Crazy About Gadgets

I can't believe that my gadget-lust has been reactivated after being dormant for quite some time by Apple's latest offering. When Apple came out with its laptop, the MacBook Pro, I was able to resist buying one for myself (admittedly, the fact that its cost was way beyond my card's credit limit may have played a bigger role in this than any prudence on my part).

But this new iPod Shuffle, which Apple touts as the smallest mp3 player in the world, is making the consumer in me positively salivate with covetousness. It's just so small and sleek, and at $79 (probably a little less with my student discount) for 1 GB of space, enough for 240 songs, it seems like such a bargain. I don't even care what the reviews may be. It just looks so... cool. (OK, I'm shallow.) Well, I COULD use my current iPod shuffle as a flash drive to put my school files in and justify the purchase. After all, if my old shuffle is being used for academic purposes, then I'm left with no choice but to buy the new one, right? RIGHT?

2006-09-04T12:30:00.000-07:00

The Dirty Restaurant

Here's a story I forgot to post while on my summer break.

One of my favorite restaurants in Southern California is a Thai restaurant which we fondly refer to as "The Dirty Restaurant". Aidan was the one who baptized the place as such. Since they say children never lie, and most kids also have lower standards of hygiene, you can imagine that it is not the kind of place that the private investigator also known as "The Monk" could abide.

Whenever we eat there, we have to wipe the glass table top with a napkin, which always comes up black with grime and dust. This does not diminish our appetites at all. In fact, we always end up eating more than our stomachs were naturally born to bear. But... I am not here to talk about the food. (If you want to know more about that though, you can check out my food blog.)

One other attraction this restaurant holds for us (that could also be called dirty, in a sense...) is a rather indecent pen holder that the owner/manager of the place uses. As this picture shows, it is a woman lying on her back, and you insert the pen in her (you guessed it!)... crotch. Classy! We've noticed this pen holder for quite some time, and I decided to take a picture of it during my last visit.

There were no other people when we went there for lunch, so that was perfect. I didn't want to be obvious about my mission, because I didn't want the restaurant staff to be offended that I was taking a picture of their prized possession for fun. (I also didn't want them to think I wanted to order a similar pen holder through the Internet with the help of a photo). So I waited for our waitress to go to the kitchen and tell them about the food we ordered, before sneaking to the counter where the pen holder lay. I turned off the flash of my camera, because the light might call their attention to what I was doing.

I managed to take a couple of pictures, but then I realized that there was no pen in the holder. My daring increased as I successfully took more pictures without being spotted. Since I wanted my pictures to communicate exactly what this woman was for, I wanted to take a picture of the holder with a pen in it. So I scrounged around the counter for a pen which would do the trick. "Another lucky break!", I thought, as I found one. So I stuck the pen in the... ummm... holder, to make the photo op perfect.

And that's when my mission went awry. The pen wouldn't go all the way in, and kept falling off. Well, that just wouldn't do for my picture. So, I pushed the pen in harder. This time, the pen DID stay in place. However, this also resulted in the woman moving her head in rapture, and saying (quite loudly for a pen holder) "Ohhhhh.... Feels so good! Do it again!" Apparently, the woman says (moans?) different things when pushed to bear a pen.

Since there were no other people in the restaurant, the woman's pronouncements were heard loud and clear, all the way to the kitchen. The owner (looking just a little peeved) soon enough came out to the counter and took away the pen holder. He probably didn't like us playing with his little toy. We may never get a glimpse of the amazing orgasmic pen holder again. It's a good thing then that I was able to photograph it for posterity.

2006-08-21T19:58:00.000-07:00

Gil's Romantic Story about His Wife

I've left lovely Cali and its perfect weather and am back in good ol' Columbia, Missouri and its horrid humidity. It was raining so hard in Missouri the day I flew back, that I felt like I was back in the Philippines. Then when I opened the door to my apartment, the hot stale air blasted out of it, and it really felt like I had opened an oven door. Aside from the horrible weather and missing Kuya, Liz, and Aidan (as well as the great food over there), it's been good to be back and be with my school friends.

Today was the first day of school, and it brought me back to when I first got here. I remembered one of the first people I met here in Mizzou (my school's nickname), the very interesting Gil. As I have mentioned, he is already back home since his degree took only a year to complete. Here is another one of his stories which I just recently remembered (KB, this one's for you).

One day, I was asking him about his family in Ormoc. He was having a hard time adjusting to student life in the US, because he sorely missed his wife and kids.

Gil: My wife is a wonderful woman. She has a very strong personality, and she's a good mother.

Me: It's great that you feel that way about your wife, even after being married so long (a little less than 20 years).

Gil: Did you know that my mother dreamt about my wife long before I even met her?

Me: (Thinking that it was one of the most romantic things I had ever heard)
Wow, that's amazing! So when you brought her to meet your mother, she told you that she was the woman in her dream, and that she was THE ONE?

Gil: Actually the moment I met her, I already knew for myself.

Me: Aww, that's so sweet.

Gil: The moment I laid my eyes on here, I knew she was going to be my wife. You see, my mother said that she dreamt that I would marry a woman with a moonface.

Me: Oh.

2006-07-29T12:28:00.000-07:00

End of Vacation Blues

July is nearly ending, and it suddenly hit me that my three-month-long summer vacation is way more than half-over. So, I have begun to panic at the thought that my happy days are nearly over. This shows you that my perspective in life is more of the "glass is half-empty" variety. After all, I have three weeks or so left, and for other people three weeks is more vacation time than they can hope to have in a year. Nonetheless, I began to dread the end of my days of bumming around and being totally unproductive.

At the start of my California vacation in May, I had to adjust to doing ABSOLUTELY nothing. This, of course, didn't take very long (as they say... like a fish to water). At first, I felt a measure of guilt at this unproductivity. It was the first time in years (decades?) that nothing was expected of me by anyone. Not my bosses at work, not my professors in school. I didn't even have to run errands, as I had to do when I had long vacations as a student living with my parents. I was accountable to no one. It was a very strange feeling, and again, one I quickly got used to.

So, I spent my lazy days in Cali getting in touch with my inner slacker. During the day, I'm left all alone in the house until Kuya, Liz, and Aidan come home from work/pre-school. So I whiled away my time reading, watching videos, surfing the Internet, chatting with friends online, catching up on Hollywood gossip in Star magazine, or just staring at nothing and daydreaming. What surprised me about all this me-time that I was having is that I was NEVER bored, and time just flew by. I know that a lot of people would probably be itching to do something, or go somewhere, if faced with all that time on their hands. Not me, though. I discovered that I'm perfectly comfortable doing nothing and having nothing to show for my day.

I easily rationalized this sloth-like behavior by thinking that I'm not going to have another three-month long break in the foreseeable future (unless I win the lottery), so I might as well enjoy it. So, enjoy it I did. The problem now is that I'm so used to my lazy lifestyle, that I know I will find it difficult to get back into the rhythm of school (and eventually, the demands of work). Well, I do have a few weeks more to prepare for it, though I doubt that I'll do something as useful as thinking about my Master's project or anything of the sort. I'll probably just end up watching more Comedy Central and reading about why Tom Cruise is determinedly keeping baby Suri from the public. (Is she really disfigured as some have claimed? Stay tuned.)

2006-07-26T20:35:00.000-07:00

Working Out with a Former Porn Star

When my summer break in California began, I fully intended to work out and do some amount of damage control, since I realistically anticipated some weight gain from being on vacation. So I went on the lookout for cheap workout videos. I always scoured stores for marked down workout DVDs whenever we went shopping, and purchased some when the deal was too good to pass up. Two months into my break, I realized that I had acquired NINE workout videos including bellydancing, hiphop, pilates, striptease aerobics, NONE of which I'd used. So, having those videos were a good indicator not of my commitment to fitness, but rather of my shopping savvy (I did get a $1 DVD in WalMart).

Realizing I only had a month left to burn off my excesses, I one day resolutely decided to forego my usual afternoon nap, and be a good girl by actually trying one of the videos. I chose to try the one called "Jazzthetics", which said... "specifically designed to burn cellulite, these programs features (sic) great soundtracks and are hosted by physical fitness advocate Traci Lords". TRACI LORDS! Hadn't heard that name in a while. I didn't realize she had shifted careers. But I thought, what the heck, she was a famous (underage) porn star, so she probably knows a thing or two about keeping fit.

So I popped in the DVD, and there she is, in her very yellow outfit (down to the ballet shoes). I realized soon enough that although the DVD was copyrighted in 2003, it looked like it had been shot in the 80s. Three things clued me in to this. First, the hair. Traci Lords was wearing a side ponytail, the kind that would have been favored by Kylie Minogue during her "Loco-Motion" days, or Olivia Newton-John in "Xanadu". Second, the music. The much-vaunted "great soundtrack" sounded like the instrumental version of a Sheena Easton hit. And finally, the last clue... Traci Lords STILL looked like an underage porn star.

However, I didn't let the outfits, the hair, or the music faze me. I had to give the workout a chance (after all, I did shell out $3.99 plus tax for it.) At the start of the DVD, I heard Ms. Lords say that I should focus on her words so that I get a feel of the workout, and I will know what to do. Okay... so I focused and listened carefully to her instructions. I tried to follow them, I really did. I was expecting the usual "feel the stretch up your quadriceps, etc." I didn't know I was in for a treat. Traci Lords' workout instructions actually RHYMED. Here are examples of her spiel.

"Turn turn, feel it burn!" (which was ok, I guess.)

"Roll your hips round and round
a perfect circle should be found!" (hmmm...)

"Look this way and then that,
turn again and then go back!" (getting a little complicated...)

"16 more, I gotta say,
your self-esteem will want to stay!" (as opposed to "my self esteem has run away"?)

"Bend down, stretch your back,
you don't want to hear no crack!" (starting to sound like rapping)

"Move your thighs you will see,
cellulite will no doubt flee!"

After that one, I just couldn't go on. The visual image of my celllulite fleeing after moving my thighs (not to mention the sheer impossibility of it) was just too much for me. Also, I didn't actually do the whole workout because I ended up being hypnotized into immobility by all that rhyming.

So I ejected the DVD. To my credit, I did 5 minutes and 48 seconds of stretching with Traci before I got distracted. That's a start, right? I have all those other DVDs to try anyway. (Though I'm now almost afraid of what I'll see in the dollar DVD I got at WalMart.)

2006-07-22T00:20:00.000-07:00

The OC Fair

Aidan had been excited for a week, since Kuya told him that we were going to the Orange County fair. Actually, we were ALL excited to go to the fair. For the "big people", as Aidan likes to call his parents and myself, the attraction lay primarily in the prospect of eating LOTS of fair food. I was particularly excited to have some funnel cake, which is the treat I've learned to associate with fairs.

On the day of the fair, the weather was sunny, so when Kuya and Aidan went off to enjoy the rides, Liz and I were glad of the chance to work on a tan. (Our desire to have a tan stems not from wanting to have the look of summer; we are just after the overall slimming effect that having darker skin brings.)

Aidan did have a great time getting on all the rides he wanted to try. Some rides were really lame, others were a bit more exciting and worth the dollar you shelled out. The ride we all enjoyed was the ski lift. Being at such a height freaked out Liz a bit, but we just imagined that we were on our way to go skiing (despite the oppressive heat), and all was well.

The big people as expected had a field day trying the different food booths. We had to pay for our excesses though. Liz and I felt a bit queasy at the end of the day because all of the food we had was fried (funnel cake included). On Aidan's part, the overstimulation of the fair (so many colors, so much to see and experience!) resulted in a meltdown. It started when he said he wanted a balloon just as we were on our way out of the fairgrounds. (He was probably trying to find a way to delay leaving the fair.) When his request was denied, he started sniffling, then whining, then finally he bawled his head out all the way home.

Which brings us to the lesson to be gleaned from spending the day at a county fair. You CAN have too much of a good thing.

2006-07-15T13:43:00.000-07:00

Two Things I Dislike About Children's Parties

No, no, this is not some rant by a single childless woman about how horrid children's parties are (though some of them CAN be pretty terrible). It IS possible for me to have a good time at these events. However, there are two things that prevent me from being a great fan of these occasions.

But first, some details of the party which brought these thoughts about. Last Saturday, my childhood friend Toytoy, now more fashionably known as Corina, held a party as her baby Nicole celebrated her first birthday. Nicole is super cute (she's the baby in the background) and already has a bag of dog tricks that she readily performs for anyone her rightly-proud mom wants to show her off to. Nicole is good-natured, fresh-smelling, pink-and-chubby-cheeked, and all those good things that make babies adorable.

It was nice to see Toy again, especially since she is now based in the US. Toy is very artistic, and she certainly made a production number out of the party. It was a garden party, with a pink-and-green-and-ladybugs-everywhere theme. She even asked Liz and I if we could wear either pink or green in keeping with the theme. As I would say; "Career!" But being an old friend of hers, Liz and I complied with the dress code.

Anyway, on to what I don't like about children's parties (things which I encountered in this one). First, they make me VERY sweaty. Since these parties are usually held outdoors (if the weather permits), to make room for the kiddies' games, it is usually very hot. Always hot in the Philippines, and hot here as well in sunny Cali. I am not usually one to whine about the weather; I guess last Saturday was just particularly humid and uncomfortable. (Rabidly cheering my nephew on during the games probably didn't help, either.)

Second, and more importantly, I often end up having nothing to eat. Children's parties usually have a menu composed of spaghetti and meatballs, hotdogs, chicken lollipop, and the like. Things which I don't eat. It's a good thing I was already well aware of standard children's party grub before I came to this particular party, and so I had some fish for lunch. (Kuya asked me why I was eating before going to the party, and I told him I probably wouldn't have anything to eat there.) The party had a great menu (there was even a taco station!), except it was not so great for me.

In fairness to children's parties, they do have one thing that consistently saves the day. Birthday cake.

These are observations I've made in many children's parties I've gone to. I don't expect my friends to accommodate my whining (it's your party and you can sweat if you want to), I just hope they understand if I am less than enthusiastic about going to their little darlings' birthday shindigs. Now... when their kids are old enough to drink and serve alcohol during their birthday parties, that's a different matter altogether...

2006-07-09T22:50:00.000-07:00

Bye, Biljana!

Last Sunday, I was very fortunate to have another chance to see Biljana, my Serbian (party girl!) friend. I was very sad when I said goodbye to her in Columbia in May, right before I left for California. It occurred to me then that I had no idea when I'd ever see her again. Luckily, she had a reason (wink wink, nudge nudge) to go to LA last weekend, and so I was able to meet up with her one last time before she heads off to Serbia in less than two weeks. We picked her and Temi up in the afternoon, then proceeded to the boardwalk of Santa Monica Beach.

We had a late lunch at Bubba Gump, where we all had to help Biljana eat her huge mudpie dessert (with pleasure!). We walked around the boardwalk to burn off what we ate, and of course, Biljana and I updated each other with what had been happening in our lives. The boardwalk was a great place to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon. The sun was out, the wind kept the place cool (a little TOO cool at times), and the smell of the sea and the sound of the waves were relaxing. Time flew by so quickly, and before I knew it, it was time to bring Biljana back to the hotel, since her flight was at midnight. It was once again time to say goodbye to her, and just like before, a wave of sadness washed over me. I don't know when I'll see her again, but I'm so glad we met in Columbia. I had so much fun with her, and I'll definitely think of her each time we have all-you-can-drink $5 cups at Deja Vu. I'll miss you, Biljana! Take care, and I'll see you again!