Friday, September 30, 2005

Happy Birthday Blog!


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Goshness, it's been a year since I signed up on Blogger and consequently dropped my Bravejournal account. (Note to BraveNet: it's just so fucking frilly to update. Do a one-click template and make all our lives easier, I might just resurrect it. Right, as if you care.)

A lot of things has happened since then. Lemme see...I lost friends, gained new ones, bitched on just about everything in my life, found purpose for a few glorious and awful weeks, grieved over something that I never thought I'll have, discovered a few more facets of myself that wasn't there before, and for the first time in my life I felt sure of something.

It wasn't easy. In fact, it's the most stressful self-induced torture I ever had. The past year's roller coaster ride has left me high and dry, and gasping for breath. This was one ride I almost regretted, even cursed myself for lining up in the first place. But I can't. How can you regret something that's brought you both heaven and hell, wonderful and tumultous at the same time? Nobody can understand me even if I started out at the ABC of explaining the situation.

Well, guess what? I don't care, not one bit. I don't give a flying fuck whether people understand me or not. I don't owe anybody an explanation, and neither should they expect it. Live and let live, I'm not stepping on your old ugly toes. I'm not saying anything about you going out of the house looking like that, do I? So stuff it.

In anticipation of another year of blogging, I am moving on. I am leaving everything that is mucky and stinky, and all those things I have learned to love in my own weird way. I am taking only one thing, and you can't take that away from me. I am laying my claim on something that I see as mine, and whoever attempts to stop me will suffer serious psychological damage that it will take them ten years of therapy.

Stay tuned.

(Picture courtesy of Ninang)




Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Fancy Dining

This made me laugh, and I haven't had lunch yet! Hee hee hee...



It's really interesting how restaurants use fancy words to describe their food. One description of adobo went as follows: "Juicy chunks of pork and chicken, boiled in dark soy and vinaigrette to tender perfection. A mouth-watering episode designed to stimulate the senses."

Duh. It's just adobo noh...even I, yes I, the undomestic goddess, can whip out adobo in 20 minutes. It's the first dish I learned to cook, even before sinigang. With adobo you just put everything in a pot, let it boil, making sure the meat is not rubbery anymore and you don't gag because it's too salty or there's too much vinegar in there. I know that there are plenty of ways to cook adobo, but that's my way, and this is my blog so basically you really can't do anything about it.

Sinigang, on the other hand, is a little more complicated. It's complicated for me, anyway, because it has more than one food group. You have to know the exact cooking times of each of the blasted vegetables, unless you can eat sour mush without changing your facial expression. I like it when the pork (obviously, I am talking about pork sinigang here) almost melts in your mouth, complemented by the crunchiness of the kangkong and sitaw (I don't eat okra). The gabi is also very important, it must be starchy and overcooked so that it blends in the sour, sour soup.

Fuck, I'm hungry.

Monday, September 26, 2005

Cheer Me Up. Tremendously.

I made my weekly pilgrimage to the home base this weekend. As usual we did nothing but eat, watch TV, eat, sleep, eat, watch videos, eat, watch the latest development of my brother's soap opera love life, and did I mention eating?

It was unwinding at its best, if you don't count the slammed phones and boxes and doors which contributes to the everlasting drama of our favorite telenovela starring my favorite brother as the lead guy. Sorry, can't resist.

We did Godfather III, to which I fell asleep, not because it was boring (so NOT) but because the choice was sleep or die from sleepiness. And maybe because it was already 3:30 a.m. I'm gonna do it again next week. I was thinking I'll have to first watch Godfather II again for the continuity factor, but nah, it's four hours and that's like two movies already.

My sister wanted to watch Spanglish (again) so we did, while killing time waiting for The Buzz. I think it should be Paz Vega instead of Penelope Cruz as the current Latino It Girl. She's so much drop dead gorgeous and not so bony thin as Penny and she has a cuter ass. Heck, she has a butt, period. Adam Sandler for once (except for Punch Drunk Love) did not try to be funny, thereby not getting to everybody's nerves. Tea Leoni was crazy hysterical she was almost scary there -- that sex scene will haunt me for weeks.

For the closing video of the weekend, we chose the classic Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion. That is absolutely one movie I can watch for the ten thousandth time and not be bored. The dance number alone is worth it, right up there with Ross' and Monica's "routine". I also loved the soundtrack, all from the 80's. And the wardrobe, they're so bright and funky. I don't care if Lisa Kudrow puts on a Phoebe face all the time and Mira Sorvino...well, I never really cared much for Ms Sorvino anyway (except that she graduated Magna cum Laude at Harvard). Did I mention that the brilliant and gorgeous Alan Cumming is also there? I love that guy.

That was a bum's weekend, definitely, but I'll do it again anytime.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Banners Galore

See the picture above? I finally discovered how to replace that boring old banner from the template I am currently using. It's not perfect, but I'm getting there. Daday agreed (thanks again!) to make a banner for me even without a concept in mind.

Conversation went as follows (a little rephrased):

Daday: may naisip ka na bang concept?
Me: hmmm...wala eh. kelangan ba meron?
Daday: ok lang na wala, pero baka pictures ko lahat makita mo dun.
Me: ngek. kahit ano, basta something dark and not too girly kasi itsh not me.
Daday: sige. anong kulay ba gusto mo?
Me: Pink.

Monday, September 19, 2005

100 Useless and Random Things About Me

Because its all about me:

1. My nickname at home is Girlie. Why oh why?
2. I am the eldest in a brood of four, and the eldest grandchild on my mother’s side. Needless to say, I had the most baby pictures.
3. I was born on a summer’s day at 12:30 p.m. I weighed 6 pounds.
4. I was named Redjeulle because when I came out I was very red.
5. I never smiled much at strangers when I was a baby. Not much has changed.
6. When I was a kid, I locked my mother’s friend’s kid inside the broom closet. I didn’t let him out until it was time for them to go home.
7. I recognize the letters of the alphabet at one and I could read at three.
8. I don’t hate math. It’s not my favorite either.
9. I spent my growing up years in Tagaytay. I saw the explosion when they blasted off the top of the mountain to build the Palace in the Sky.
10. During those years I had seen at least three salvage victims at the roadside.
11. I had head lice when I was 8 or 9, courtesy of my cousin who visits every summer.
12. I had an imaginary friend named Cathy, she was rich and had all kinds of toys and she lived just below the hill.
13. I’ve been to six different schools by the time I graduated college.
14. I never got the desire for taking notes, or copying from the blackboard. It was always a problem whenever teachers would check notebooks. If on the rare chance I did scribble something, it’s not gonna be read for the next 10 years. That’s why I loved college and post-grad classes, no pressure to take notes. You can just sit there looking interested, even if you’re not.
15. By the time school starts I’ve finished reading all my textbooks, resulting to major boredom in class.
16. I used to play a mean game of touch ball, agawang base, and Chinese garter. I was kinda stupid in jackstone and taguan.
17. I had a pathetic social life in grade school. Until now I don’t know if that was the cause or the effect of too much reading.
18. I was always in the honor roll in grade school. Then I stopped seeing the point. I once told a high school teacher that I didn’t need a medal to know that I’m smart. He took it personally.
19. I got into a nasty catfight in Grade 5. I went home with bruises and a bloody lip, but grinning like the cat that just ate the canary. That was the first and the last time I ever used violence in emphasizing my point in an argument.
20. For a time we lived in Escopa. Enough said.
21. The PC that I use at home cost me only six grand with a 17” monitor.
22. My shortest relationship was one week, I was 15 then. The next time I saw him I wondered what the hell was I thinking, and broke up.
23. I don’t like policemen.
24. I will absolutely die if you force me to declaim. That should be made illegal.
25. I was never good at memorizing – I sucked at enumeration.
26. I never failed an exam. Except the fucking DFA Foreign Service three-day torture and a psychological exam for a company.
27. I sometimes wish I’m not related to some of my relatives.
28. When I’m really really mad I can’t talk.
29. I am dead scared of worms, snakes, lizards, and other creepy crawly slimy creatures. But I’m not scared of cockroaches and mice.
30. I am too stubborn for my own good.
31. I read anything, and I always think I never read enough. I also spend a fortune on books.
32. I have never stalked anybody, but sometimes wish I had the guts to do so.
33. I see dead people, but I never saw my father when he died.
34. I am currently addicted to blogging and bloghopping.
35. My filing is up to here I can’t even look at it.
36. We moved to Bacolod when I was in second year high school when my parents separated, then came back to Manila after college.
37. I used to compute bloody timesheets for payroll and hated it.
38. I wish I have the patience for scrapbooking. I keep all these stuff hoping I could do one someday.
39. When I’m interested in something, I really get down to it. Then after a while it just dies a natural death.
40. I have a very short attention span.
41. It takes a lot to impress me.
42. I wish I could write better.
43. I have an unused credit card lying around somewhere.
44. Whenever I see or hear April Boy I want to break or hit something.
45. I fall really hard.
46. I once punched a 40-something year old man inside a bus because he shouted at an old lady.
47. I once sat next to an exhibitionist in the bus. I clobbered him with a shoe.
48. I can’t get enough sleep.
49. I want a car so I can drive out of town with a chow chow beside me for company.
50. I wish Jessica Zafra would start writing again.
51. I can be a real bitch if I wanted to.
52. I can’t commute around Manila. I’d get lost in the middle of Quiapo.
53. When in doubt, I take a cab.
54. I can’t sleep during long trips, but get knocked out on the way from Makati to Quezon City.
55. I suddenly can’t swim when I know my feet aren’t gonna touch the bottom if I tried to stand up.
56. I’m scared of diving.
57. I’m claustrophobic, and I have a secret fear of heights. When we went to Ocean Park my knees were shaking every time we have to take the steep escalators.
58. I do witchcraft, but not often.
59. I used to cross stitch, embroider, and knit.
60. I sometimes wonder if my whole life is just a dream, then I’d wake up and I’d still be five years old.
61. I keep my promises.
62. I don’t say I love you if I don’t mean it.
63. I am eternally grateful for having my friends.
64. I want to do censored things to Angelina Jolie.
65. I can never keep house. I hate laundry and doing the dishes and cleaning up and being a domestic goddess.
66. I enjoy cooking though. It’s so therapeutic to just keep stirring and tasting and adding stuff.
67. I can’t bake to save my life. It’s an exact science.
68. I took computer science in college because I don’t want to be a nurse or an accountant. I almost enrolled in civil engineering.
69. I can never work in a hospital or in any medical profession. I get queasy looking at blood or pus or flesh or… [faints]
70. My eyebags are inherited. You should see my three-year old cousin.
71. Jobs that I cannot do: customer service, domestic helper, janitress, flight stewardess, waitress, caregiver.
72. I am genuinely friends with most of my exes, and will never be anything more than that.
73. I have to be in a certain mood for a book. Otherwise I won’t enjoy it, even if it’s really good.
74. When the point comes that I really and truly hate someone, he or she ceases to exist for me.
75. I can watch any movie.
76. I can spend the whole day doing nothing.
77. I’m burned out with studying.
78. Can’t imagine myself living in a rural area. I’m a city girl and would probably turn green if exposed to fresh air for a prolonged amount of time.
79. I like shopping for toiletries and shoes and makeup.
80. I have two cellphones, one for Smart and one for Sun.
81. I am a proud member of the Adonis Gels.
82. I used to hate the boys in my class in high school.
83. I love buying new pens, stationery, drawing pads, drawing pencils, crayons, watercolors, and other school supplies.
84. I used to have a size 6 in shoes. Now I’m a 7.
85. I can’t sleep with just one pillow or without a blanket.
86. I have let two pairs of contact lenses dry up because I was too lazy to use them.
87. My boyfriend does my nails. He’s OC about it.
88. I wonder what’s it like to die.
89. I love hotels and bathtubs and buffet breakfasts.
90. I only have one pair of closed shoes, and they’re boots. I prefer strappy sandals and slippers.
91. I’m addicted to foot spa.
92. I used to feel uncomfortable with girls who like girls. Now I live with one and I never felt uncomfortable at all.
93. I only colored my hair once and regretted it for life. Now my hair is fucking dead and only an ancient Egyptian ritual can resurrect it.
94. My kikay kit weighs a kilo and takes up too much space in my bag.
95. I don’t feel clean when I don’t follow my bathing ritual.
96. Sometimes when I’m bored I wish a ghost would appear and talk to me. Never happened. They just pop up when you least expect them to, and scare the daylights out of poor me. I told them I’m okay with them appearing from time to time, but not like that.
97. When I’m angry and wish people bad luck, I take it back immediately and pray it hasn’t taken effect.
98. Going to a public market is a field trip for me, i.e. it’s done once a year and I have to be in a group.
99. When we were kids, my brother and I used to put skirts in our heads and pretend we have long hair. He didn’t grow up gay.
100. If law and order didn’t exist, I’d throw certain people out the window and hope they break enough bones but not die. Yes, I am evil.

Friday, September 16, 2005

The Adonis Gels


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Meet the Adonis Gels, founded 2001.

There are eight of us, but our most beautiful member went to seek greener pastures in that other country in North America. Why we call ourselves the Adonis Gels will be discussed later, depending on my mood and whether the skies clear up. (The former depends heavily upon the latter. Damn intertropical convergence zone.)

I don't know why I haven't written about them before. We all met at this organization eight long years ago as lowly temps, the kind you send to do all the dirty work like filing and fetching supplies from the growling custodian. We weren't Adonis then, we were simply friends who had lunch every now and then, discussing various people who made our lives hell in the office.

Eventually, four of us left the organization one by one, myself included. We weren't getting what we were hoping for, so we looked for other things to try out. Daisy left for Canada, and the rest of us ended up working in different international organizations. We meet up every once in a while to catch up on things, but there was no obligation or pressure on anybody to do so. We just do.

We don't see each other very often, but we know enough about each other's lives. When a crisis comes up, a dinner at Burgoo's Podium is immediately scheduled so we can talk about it while analyzing Nancy's current hairstyle, and whether Jessica should just kidnap the love of her life. Yvonne is always late, and thus she never gets to the buffalo wings on time, just the celery stalks. We don't see Mercie that often now that she's got a mutant to take care of.

We love to travel, the most unforgettable of all is the one in Hong Kong with Jess, Bunny and I. We take advantage of Nancy's penchant for hotels. If we run out of stories, we talk about Daisy and her wardrobe and hairstyles, never fails to crack us up. Sorry Daisy...thanks for the gimmick money, by the way. Can't wait for the next one, hahaha.

Maybe one day I'll you about the history behind the name.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Why Don't You Just Take my Wallet

Damn bookstores and their booksales. Damn my nonexistent self-discipline. Damn credit cards.

I was really meaning to go home straight, then I remembered I'm out of mouthwash. So I decided to go through that sorry excuse for a mall on my way. I stiffed my neck to the right, summoning all my willpower not to look the other way where the bookstore is with all those red flags and streamers shouting the words that is feared by all men with girlfriends or wives in tow: SALE.

But my feet apparently has its own opinions about things, and it was leading me that way. Yeah, as if Their Gingerness can read. All warning bells in my head were forcefully silenced as I gave up and entered my heaven on earth (aside from spas and good restaurants).

I was giddy as I walked toward the aisles, adrenalin rushing. I want to take a shopping cart and just pick up books, I don't even care what, as I read everything, even nutrition labels. I may have to draw the line on self-help books though, as I cannot take a step to admitting that I may in fact need help.

I checked out the "below 100" section first. Uh huh, uh huh...do I really need to know every single gem that exists on planet Earth and their gradations? Nice book paper though. What about Catholicism for Dummies, or is that the Idiot's Guide to the Catholic Religion? Wait, does the Vatican know that the Church is being mentioned in the same line as idiot and dummies? Oh look, a battered copy of Feng Shui According to Winnie the Pooh! I love Pooh, but he's kinda slow. Plus, is it good Feng Shui not to wear pants?

Move on to the 50% red tags. Nuninuninuninu...aha! A Dilbert hardbound. Only it's not tagged red, it doesn't belong here. Drat. What about the sequel to the Girl With a Pearl Earring? Only I haven't read it, so it doesn't make sense to jump to the sequel. I can't be really choosy or I'll be there till kingdom come, so I grab a nice green-covered paperback chicklit that's all about magic recipes. It sounds interesting enough, and it was really cheap. I like reading stuff like that, makes my life sound so simple and everything has a happy ending.

I'm thinking I can't just buy one, it would be a crime to just walk away from a booksale with just one book. I crossed over to the Teens section, and a stack of yellow hardbound books caught my eye. Original Nancy Drew! I shivered and felt the hairs on the back of my neck rising. Who didn't love Nancy Drew? When you're 10 and has no social life Ms Drew is the greatest thing since sliced bread. Titian-haired genius sleuth who could always find a single match to light her way up a ten-foot tunnel, and a rusty nail so she can create steps to climb to safety. She's forever eighteen and I can't remember a book that mentioned she ever went to class during a case. For all those times she was trapped with some kidnapper, nobody even dared touch her in an inappropriate way, if you know what I mean.

I was feeling nostalgic so I picked out the very first Nancy Drew I ever read, The Mysterious Mannequin. I was bowled over by that book (remember, I was ten and CSI hasn't been invented yet). A carpet that has clues! Imagine that. And it was 20% off!

As I was paying for my loot I can't believe I'm paying that amount of money, money which could feed me cafeteria food for a week or more. I told the cashier to end the sale tomorrow, or else she'll have to take promissory notes.



Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Monday, September 12, 2005

On Being The One and Only Superstar

I amused myself inside Powerbooks Megamall last Saturday, on my way to doing the 911 for my hair (it is really hopeless). Well, I can't really exit that damned bookstore without something, everytime. I figured I haven't bought anything decent from a bookstore since that time I was excited about something that was taken away from me. I'm not regretting that purchase though, it was very informative.

So anyway, I was inside and browsing at the Philippine Publications section and I always make it a point to buy our own, when this peachy brown book caught my attention. It was "Si Nora Aunor sa mga Noranian". The cover has this three pictures of Nora from the 70's, 80's, and a recent one. It's a collection of essays from La Aunor's loyal fans, and the first one was written by Boy Abunda, a self-confessed Noranian. I decided to buy it.

Let me clarify at this point that I am not a Nora fan, or a Vilmanian for that matter. I have never experienced a total fanaticism about one person or thing, I never understood the concept as my attention span is so short. I wondered what these diehard fans get out of it, of every single thing they do for their idol. I would rather shrivel up and die than hold a placard in the audience with the words "Nora International" or "Vilma Forever, Inc." I wanted to know what drives them to worship a fellow human being, who is admittedly blessed with so much talent it's almost supernatural.

I do admire Ms Aunor for her acting talent, having watched enough movies of hers to give her what is due. I was moved by Himala, Minsa'y Isang Gamu-Gamo, Tatlong Araw na Walang Diyos, and the more recent Sidhi. They are very very excellent films and the whole Philippine population should be required to watch them at least once in their lifetimes.

What I don't get is how fast she shot up to superstardom looking like that. (Hate mail, please be gentle.) Would you believe one of her movies ran for six months straight? That's way more than Jack and Rose can ever manage.

I am not saying she's ugly, all I want to say is maybe I am brainwashed by Hollywood and the idea that movie stars are supposed to look larger than life. That's why they're in the movies and we're not. But Nora here looks like the typical Pinay: short, dark, and ordinary-looking. She's one of us.

As I read the essays, I marvel at the drive and determination of these people who are willing to risk life and limb for their idol. I cannot imagine myself ever doing even a tenth of their dedication to Nora. They go into fights, they leave their families, they set up altars, they spend hard-earned money on memorabilia. One guy even smuggled a cigarette butt and framed it.

If I only had that kind of drive to do one thing, I would be a lucky person. These people rock.


Inhale, Exhale

Ok, this is kinda insulting (but only very very slightly) but the entry that got the most comments was my post about the alleged Best Looking Guy in the Whole Wide World, So Help Me God. It was the one that got the most traffic, not my world-changing insights on how to lust properly for weird men, or why I cry myself to sleep at night, and why the rest of population should care about it.

Much has been said about the "assets" of this certain outstanding sample of Homo Sapiens. Sadly, nobody knew his real name or where he came from or whether he got my number already. Until now (well, the real name part and where he came from. I'm working on the number thing).

Behold, people, the official website of His Yumminess, Reynaldo Gianecchini.

He's Brazilian, apparently. Hmmm, I wonder what he would look like in Havaianas and nothing else...

Thursday, September 01, 2005

For Crying Out Loud

I don't know what came over me just a few moments ago. I was reading a blog entry about some cards kids made and two seconds later these giant tears was plopping down the front of my shirt. And another two seconds later I was bawling like someone had been carving out my heart with a bread knife.

What was that?

I know I'm not PMS-ing because I'm in the middle of that whole feminine inconvenience and the P in PMS does not stand for Middle, as far as I know.

I get this weird crying spells every once in a while, for no apparent reason and totally at random. Once, we were inside my friend's car plowing our way through EDSA going to Makati, and we were laughing about something then suddenly without warning I was a horrible mess of tears and snot. One great thing about this was the look on my friend's face, who was driving. He was like, "What the hell? What did I do? Do you want my car, cause it's yours, but only if you stop crying." Only he didn't say it aloud, because if he did I would totally take his car without remorse. Why do guys freak out on the first sign of tears?

I also cried incessantly in the middle of watching an uber-jologs Channel 7 sitcom, I can't even remember what it was. And during my 4-year old cousin's play where he was a leaf. Oh yeah, let's not forget the time I cried because my cat puked a very large hairball. Cat proceeded to stare at me all night, not getting near me.

But then again there were moments meant for crying and I cannot squeeze a single drop from my traitorous tear ducts. Like breakups. When you're breaking up with somebody you're supposed to shed a tear, or just look like you're going to anyway. There were one or two situations like that, and my God, was it awkward. I just did my best to glare, it was the next best thing that came to mind.

Foxy Little Shiet

fox.
You are the fox.


Saint Exupery's 'The Little Prince' Quiz.
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