Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Me in the Mirror: Good! But don't forget to...
Me: There! Clicked and saved!
Me in the Mirror: don't forget to save your widgets... *sigh*
Me: I thought I did that already?
Me in the Mirror: No, you didn't.
Me in the Mirror: I told you so!
*me facing the mirror*
Me: you stupid reflection! You should've warned me!
Me in the Mirror: I did. or at least I tried.
Ok ok. Point taken. I hate all these html stuff. And they hate me as well.
So forgive me, but can you all post your links in this entry by commenting?
I just need to update my links and stuff.
Thanks a bunch!
(At least now I have a three column blog. hehe, but I can't seem to get my banner pasted on top. hmmm...)
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
You can make many plans, but the Lord’s purpose will
- Proverbs 19:21
I’ve heard it happen to some other companies. I’ve seen it happen to people. But it was only recently that I saw it happening to me.
Retrenchment. And it’s not just parts of the pie. The whole pie would have to be eaten. And my elementary knowledge on fractions didn’t even prepare me for this one.
Let me give you a clearer picture on what’s happening. Fact # 1: My company is closing down. Well, at least, to use their term, changing its business model from a pharmaceutical company to a biopharma one, and it’s not just the Philippines. Fact # 2: Everyone will loose their jobs, including me - someone from medical research, separate from sales and marketing. That’s just so un-cool.
But when shit hits the fan, you just have to let it all splatter on your face. You’d puke afterwards. Maybe cry a little and definitely smell like shit, literally. But in the end, like all things, it shall pass (ok, I think I’ll have to end all analogies now).
Tuesday, it was 2:15 in the afternoon, hours before I can get my afternoon tea and have a friend give his gift. I was 15 minutes late due to the hassles of metro color/number coding. As I entered the room for the company “communication’s meeting,” I felt a sudden cloud of emotions envelope me. I felt it from all the people around. I knew the news already, and the room was filled with quiet screams – or at least that’s how I would describe it. Then the speeches from the company officers came. Then the realization – it wasn’t just one department, one product, one line… it was all of us – including me.
The news hit me unexpectedly despite the endless whispers of office gossip mongers (they’ve finally hit the bull’s eye and were actually correct this time around). Though the shock lasted only a few seconds for me, it was seeing how it affected other employees that made the sadness linger for more than it was allowed.
I am young, both in the general workforce and in my current company according to tenure. There has not been much emotional investment, not even the feeling of attachment to the company. The morose feeling didn’t come from self realizations, but more of vicinity observations.
I felt the urge to hug people I hardly know (whose names still escape my memory). Some of them were with the company half their lives (even more). First job for most of them. A deeply rooted comfort zone. Probably godparents of each other’s kids. Possibly established strong friendships within circle. A second family. Mostly breadwinners. Fathers. Mothers. Daughters. Sons.
The gush of emotions came from all these contemplations. I’m normally not affected when things happen (in fact, I have been tagged as “emotionless”) save for this particular event. I shed a tear NOT for myself, but for others who will leave a big part of themselves unexpectedly.
It would be easier for my self as my youth and field of expertise would enable me to find another job easily (or at least I prayed it would be so). But for those who have gone past the age of getting their “senior citizen’s” card, I wager it would be harder.
Though we differ mostly with our “effectivity dates,” most would have their tenure end on the last day of the New Year’s first month. I haven’t had the chance to speak to any of my colleagues, but I do have a few things on my mind.
Since my unfortunate entry in this place called earth, I’ve come to know my God in different fashions. Most would say that God is good, God is kind, God is merciful, God is loving, but I would just have to add what I knew of God…
God is humorous.
He gives gifts in the most unexpected packages. And He loves surprises. He loves giving his servants trials that makes them weak with hopelessness. And when we are all too remorseful for our own good, he lays out his beautiful plans like a shiny treasure in a wooden pirate’s chest. It is when we are weak that His glory is magnified and our thirst to know Him more intensifies. And I won’t even risk to sound much of a cliché, but I’d have to say, doors may close but windows would open somewhere for new things coming.
It’s like a story of a father wanting to take away a gift necklace from his daughter. The daughter, expectedly, refuses to give the gift back. But in her sleep, her father takes away the necklace to be able to replace it with something much more shiny and precious. The kid, realising that the gift is gone, cries in mourning for the lost gift. But when her father shows the new gift, she finally understands that for her to be able to receive the new one, she has to let go of the old one.
To my colleagues, I know most of you worry much of tomorrow, but once you’ve done much of what you can do, do let tomorrow worry for itself. God will provide for his faithful servants. And His plans will be shown to you sooner than you would expect it.
In my years of living, God has shaken His head at my nonchalance on direction and plans that He usually had to forcefully take them away to be able lay out His plans. Maybe He is doing the same thing to you all. He is taking away your comfort zone for you to move in to a bigger plan, a richer opportunity.
A company was lost to its investors, but friends will remain, opportunities will endlessly open for all, blessings will continuously pour.
Take care my unknown colleagues. We will see each other again.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
This Christmas season isn't just about having a white Christmas in this snow-less tropical country. It isn't even about the gifts received (though that really is always fun). It is about the love given by God giving out his only son to this wonderful world (at least for Christians).
Thus, the toilet says, Christmas is all about love (cheesy, I know).
The Toilet is currently answering tags that dates back to almost 6 months ago (4 tags since then). But this tag fits just right in this season, so I'm starting with this one.
The Toilet was tagged by Ruthi of Sa Puso at Isip. This would be the Toilet's very first tag-award in all of his blog lifetime. Thus, the toilet leaks with tears from its flush, a bit emotional, I must say. Thus, from all the toilets in this world, The Toilet says "Thank you."
A bit of reminder to all loved ones to be tagged. Just the usual tag rule. Mention the 'tagger' in the post along with his/ her link. Post it in your blog along with SEVEN people you'd want to give the award to. Let the tagged blogger know of the award, and hopefully, he/ she spreads the love in this Christmas season.
And now, the Toilet swirls in excitement as he reserves the toilet throne to the following awardees (in no particular order):
Kuya Joms. One of the first few bloggers the Toilet met. A very special encounter as the Toilet swirled with ease with the meeting. It was like meeting an old toilet friend. The Toilet was able to tell Kuya Joms of the Toilet's family, Father Toilet and Mother Toilet and all the Toilet kids. The trust was weirdly stronger than a twelve inch fecal matter curled before the Toilet can make a vortex. A feat unusual for first time encounters. That and he writes entries almost fit for a literary piece. Eloquent and witty in his writings. That’s why the Toilet loves Kuya Joms.
Me-antoot’s Scribble and Scrabble. Why does the Toilet love her? He has to. Or else she’ll get mad. Hehe. Kidding. Me-ann is the Toilet’s Restroom mate back in college. 4-5 years of seeing each other’s ups and down. She saw the Toilet reek with all the icky stuff toilets couldn’t even imagine having. She also saw the toilet shine after getting an overhaul with Muriatic Acid and a bunch of scotch brite. And after college years, they discover a common ground, Blogging. Love yah Me-ann!
Dyilyan’s Poisoning The Well. Crazy kid. Crazier than the Toilet. One word to sum up all things to describe this kid… ADIK! Hahaha! Seriously, this girl got wit in her blog, and the toilet usually lets out a gargle-sound, laughing out loud to one of her antics. One message to this kid, you’re a babe, no time for bitterness over a lost love, you’ve got the world under your feet. Hahaha! Peace!
Ewik the Wandering Commuter. Cool blogger. The Toilet would usually find himself going to Ewik’s site looking forward to another cool topic he’d come up with. This kid has imagination, and he sees interesting stuff even out of your ordinary day by day routine (love even the picture posts). And I wager, that if the Toilet and Ewik went to the same toilet’ school, It’d be fun to have him as a friend.
Gibbs Cadiz’ theater, travel, movies, books, bloviations. He introduced the Toilet to plays/ theater acts worth watching. And not once have the Toilet regreted the experience. Toilet’s favorite plays (specially the musical ones) were mostly his recommendations. His blog would usually have an effect on the Toilet’s tiled calendar, writing off a block, reserving a play posted in his blog. And off the Toilet goes to one of his connections to get good seats. Hehehe. Well, that and the fact that Gibbs Cadiz is such a pleasant person to hang out with, you wouldn’t know you’re with an Inquirer personality, hehehe. Peace Gibbs.
Klitorika. The first blogger the Toilet met in Cebu. She’s like blogger’s Gabriela Silang ala Pamela Anderson style. Sexy and real. She gave a copy of her book, which Toilet’s girl stole (I mean borrowed) when she read the first entry, she said she can totally relate. Is the second book coming soon Klitorika? Say hi to Mr. Dickory for me! Hehe. Love yah!
Normandb, the Blogger Next Door. Naks. Blogger next door daw. Neighbor? Hehe. He’s the Toilet’s sometime-techie-advisor. Plus when the Toilet needs a good post from the heart, he goes to see kuya Normand’s updates. There was one time when this blogger was obviously in love. Hehe. Peace Normand. The Toilet got inspired with how Kuya Normand plays with his site’s html. The Toilet will probably have a three column blog soon. Hehe.
Dabo’s a time for later. He was one of Toilet’s latest find. First toilet thought that came to mind… “this kid's got substance.” And he really knows how to write. What the Toilet likes about reading his blog is most of his posts came from his heart. And its not just someone’s mediocre diary, its almost literary. Although it can sometimes be too emo for the Toilet’s flushings but hey, that’s still cool.
Jamie’s Wandering Polar Bear. Another new find. Toilet once squirted out “another wanderer?” What’s happening to the world? Everyone seems lost these days. Wandering, wonderbra, commuting, and now… the north pole (or is it the south)? But then the Toilet flushes by the polar bear’s blog, reading. Then suddenly insecurities arose. This bear can write. I thought they just sleep and eat. But hell, long posts or not, Toilet have finished most of them. That’s a milestone achieved considering the Toilet’s short attention span. Hehe.
Jonathan’s Metaphorically Speaking. Amazing person. Intellect and a good heart. That’s a rare combination. Reading his post usually gets the Toilet in a swirl of emotions. At times sad, constantly informed, occasionally laughing, but mostly inspired. He has his realizations on life written up for all to read. But as one reads through, you’d possibly find yourself in those posts as well. The Toilet gets a bit excited on each of this real life educator’s visit. He’s from Thailand (right?), a place where the Toilet would want to wreak havoc and have fun… for vacation that is. So, guess, the Toilet will see you soon Jon!
And lastly, the Toilet’s Crime Partner. She’s a colleague from work. Though she haven’t had the chance to update her blog, the Toilet says, once a blogger, always a blogger. Ups and down. Farts and fresh air. Floating submarines and yellow juices. Through it all, they’ve survived the wrath of the restroom workforce. And though their restroomship is nearing its end, the Toilet admits, it was one heck of a couple of good toilet years. The toilet will miss the crimes committed. They will all be cherished and never be forgotten. Thanks Crime Partner for all. *sniff sniff*
And as usual, the Toilet never really followed the rules, the norms. They say tag 7, I think I had 10. Oh well, the Toilet can actually flush out more than these actually. The Toilet loves a lot, really.
But you all know the Toilet loves you all, right? So let the Toilet just leave ya’ll a special greeting from all the toilets in the world…
Don’t forget to flush!
Tsup tsup. Mwah! Spread the love!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
I can't seem to embed the video from Youtube. kindly just follow the link. haaaay. I surrender! I'm done with trying to techie savvy, I'm no techie. F*@#@!#.
Note: I'm just trying to test some stuffs with vlogging a bit. Expect to see more of these when I'm done with the new "Toilet Thoughts" design. Your constructive comments would be greatly appreciated. I haven't perfected the end credits yet. hehe.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Me at the printers/ computer shop:
Me: Miga, naa ka pa print? (Miss, do you have print services?)
Girl: naa (We have)
Me: tagpila ka print? (how much for printing?)
Me: short bond lang, tagpila ka print? (only for short bond paper size, how much for a print?)
Me: ha? Tagpila nga? (ha? How much again?)
Girl: size nga (with a smirk)
Then I realize, size….
Me: ahhh size… (as in sais (sa-iz), as in uno… dos… tres…kwatro … singko... sais)
Ang tanga ko talaga, size nga naman. (Stupid me, yeah, sais)
Me: sige po paprint (next time, I won’t try to speak Bisaya anymore, it’s a disaster brewing, really)
Some of my colleages make fun of my “Bisaya” accent, it’s actually a mixture of my Batangueno-Manilenyo trying hard to be bisaya accent. So imagine a batangueno sing song accent in a Bisaya dialect. Yikes. As Happy Slip’s dad would term it… DISASTER.
In anycase, I'm in a "nonsense post" mode till I get to be on a real vacation from work. See yah!
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Name: Chateau Verde
Where: Apacible St., UP Campus, Diliman Quezon City
Contact details: (+632) 928 81 80/ (+632) 927 30 35 (They accept catering services and party planning)
Cuisine: Spanish and Continental Cuisine
Food rate: 8.5 out of 10, this is one of those places where simple food is transformed into an art. I’d have to give them two thumbs up for presentation
Ambiance: I’d say 9.5 of 10. I liked the place. Aside from the garden effect the place gave out, meeting up with Tita Goring Cervantes (The owner of Verde, I assume) is such a feat. She’s such a bubbly woman, chatting with those who dined at her place. And it’s no surprise that she knows most of her patrons. You’d probably hear her tell stories from the eighties. If you find a foreigner, you’d probably expect her to chat a bit of the places she’s been to. It makes you feel at home, with a very gracious host to liven up the day.
Service: I haven’t been at a time when “busy” is an understatement so, I’d say, the service is good, for now. Though some of the waiters were chatting much, but they were easy to call on anyways.
Cost: It’s a restaurant. Not fastfood. So expect prices ranging from simple 150 to 300. Dessert is at 70-150. But still relatively reasonable if not cheap.
Some Recommendations: Mango crepe. Mango crepe. Mango crepe. Ok, try also their grilled chicken, their beef tenderloin, fish. Then mango crepe.
Overall Assessment: A must dine-in place in UP Diliman. And if you’ve studied in UPD and have not graced the serene garden of Chateau Verde, I say shame on you.
Note: I'm still trying to fix my blog. hehe. so I'll just fill in some food post for your tummies, I took pictures of the main dish, but sadly, I couldn't find it in my saved folders, aarrrgghhhh!
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Cuter (or to some yuckier)
Toilet Thoughts plus +
Because Jepoy is no longer a kid…
Note: I need someone to help me with a new banner and background. hehe. pleaaassseee. pweety pleaseeee....
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Well, I guess I grew up. I’d see this season as one ordinary day. A day to work, and party afterwards. It lost its magic.
And I hate going to the cemetery. If it’s for a loved ones memory, I’d rather lock myself in a room and look into pictures. Cherish those almost forgotten memories.
I only go to the cemetery just to be with my dad. Why go there anyways? They’re dead. You’d be visiting nothing but a building, a mausoleum, a piece of rock, and a marble tablet. And gain nothing more (for me), but a bout of my perennial allergies for a certain type of grass (and while I’m typing this post, a fever is slowly rising up).
But right now, I find a reason to blog about the day of the dead.
There is no more day fit for the temporary death of my blog other than this all hollow’s day.
I’m going away for a while from blogging to kill a rumor concerning myself, and indirectly this blog. Its not to satisfy that person, and accept defeat, but more so for me to have time for one devious plan I have in November.
I’ll be back on the second week of December with news to rock your worlds. And I hope you all do come back to visit my blog.
For now, I will spend time more for my work and my devious plan. I will still have time to visit your blogs, and make comments from time to time. Though I’ll stop temporarily from posting, I will still read your blogs. Blogging has been very therapeutic for me. It was my only solace from all the chaos in the world, a haven for me to hide from time to time. I will miss posting, but I’ll be back.
I’d like to thank all of my blogger friends for all the support. My email and YM are still fully functional, so is my mobile number. Ya’ll can still reach me through those.
For now I leave you all with a video from Beyonce (minus the issue with BC Jean). I learned some important bits from this one, and I hope you all do to. Know how to love your baby. Cheers!
Thanks to ya’ll! Zaijian! Baozhong!
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Freakingly what? Say that again?
“Parang di ka galing sa hirap,” (As if you didn’t came from being poor) my friend supplied his statement for the second time. My friend just “mouthed” “mahirap” to ensure that our conversation was out of earshot (from my dad).
It took me a couple of seconds before recovering. I remembered my friend saying that I’m “maarte” (picky with clothes, I’ve developed allergies with most soaps and have to settle with Dove, I’ve got wax on my hair, but other than those, I’m not maarte at all).
Its not my fault that I want to dress up presentably. You don’t have to look poor just because you are poor, or at least you came from poordom. Life is NOT a costume party (though Halloween is indeed nearing).
Its not my fault that I can sometimes be meticulously OC in hygiene, I’m from the medical field for pete’s sake, but I do have my momentary sloppy moments. Life ain’t exciting without variety. But hygiene is not entirely or should not be entirely equated to status in life and bank accounts.
Poor people, I beg you, please do smell like you’re wearing Dolce or Armani or whatever brand it is… even if you’re just wearing Johnson’s/ Green Cross baby cologne. Remember, cleanliness is next to godliness.
Pero teka (an exaggerated “wait”)? Me? Maarte? Are you blind? I fart in front of my friends (fully warned of course). I love eating fishballs in the side streets. I absentmindedly pick my nose in public often (dialing… hello… hello?). I’m the most jologs (unclassy) person I know! Seeesh! And I’m maarte?
I remember a first meet up with a blogger friend. We had to share a soup (a small serving at that), and he asked for a separate bowl, the works. I was thinking we could’ve shared one bowl to eliminate all the trouble of asking for additional utensils (And I brushed my teeth naman and I don’t have oral infections naman eh). Apparently he thought I was uber sosyal. Parang, dude, cowboy kaya ako. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got breeding, and I was thought Class A table manners. But in the absence of business meetings in a posh restaurant, and with a friend for dinner, I would just want to have a relaxed conversation, with my feet crossed (or even on an Indian sit pose), and an unaltered smile (or a snorting laugh). Basta. Ganun. And I enjoy eating at a tapsihan, btw.
“And teka, I’m not entirely mahirap!” I ran to my defense. Though there’s really nothing wrong with that, what’s important is what’s in you heart (naks!).
My dad was a businessman before, though business went down and he had to do odd jobs. I worked my way through highschool and college through scholarships, and succeeded and started with x times the minimum wage at 21 years old. I digress. I’m not mahirap pala. I’m a “sosyal na mahirap”. From rags to… oh well… better looking rags, I worked hard. So don’t tell me how I should act (mahirap). I don’t act mahirap, I act intelligently mahirap.
And what’s with all these labels by the way?
Economists and businessmen need those to identify target market. Political analysts need those to analyse social phenomenon.
But normal people do not need to stereotype a lot of people, categorize them and put them into a limited box.
Role playing? Oh, shut up!
Even in relationships, no one needs to be the “man of the house”. The Ilaw ng tahanan (figuratively the mother) and the haligi ng tahanan (figuratively the father) are so ten years ago.
Like not all husbands are created equal, most would be better cooks than the wives. Roles are becoming dynamic these years. Breadwinners are not all men anymore. “Yayas” are not limited to women with foreign accents.
Taxi drivers are not just smelly men. I had a woman driver once (who was in no way tomboy-ish).
And what is “panget” (ugly) ba? (Sorry medyo out of topic). What is ugly and what is beautiful. Who determines what? Sure, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But who gives the right to say who is who? I’ve been told I’m “ugly” twice I think, and I’ve been classified as “cute” on some occasions with some asking for my number. So what am I? I guess I have to take my dad’s word nalang. I’m cute. Period. Ang umangal pasasabugin ko pagmumukha.
In anycase, back to the topic…
So who are you to tell that I act “mahirap”. Dude, how does a “mahirap” act anyways?
All “mahiraps” here, I challenge you all. Do not contain your actions, decisions and even your dreams just because society dictates you to do or be the way you are. Believe, dream, survive! (Ok, erase that last bit)
Basta. Un lang. eto nadudulot ng sangkaterbang katoxican. Hahaha!
I’m sooo drugged with caffeine. I know right? Bleh!
Note: No more "read more" on this one (hindi ko kasi alam kung pano alisin ung read more pag di na kelangn eh. hehe)
Sunday, October 26, 2008
For now, I’ll strip off all propriety and secrecy, but would now be temporarily be an objective onlooker, just so for me to analyse things clearly, void of any bias against family and practicality. And I ask you all to give me some of your insights.
Let me first put two of my lolos (grandparents) side by side. Let you see their similarities and the differences in their own fates.
Both are my grandfathers… direct blood relation of my own folks.
Both would have wonderful offsprings… sprung from their own flesh and blood.
The conflict starts when both…
Were placed in a home… for the old of age…
Remember that both came from different families, one from my mom, and the other my dad.
Each would have their own reason/s. And each reacted differently according to their own perception of things.
Lolo # 1:
He has three kids. And all of them are either out of the country or don’t have the ability to take care of him.
Visual inspection of him would tell a case of gouty arthritis. He couldn’t walk, unless aided by walker/ stand. His memory is still intact, though moments of dementia may be observed. Relatives are still recognized, but would take much time of recall. Speech is almost incoherent, but when listened to, still contains much sense. A bystander might suspect a history of stroke upon hearing, but I couldn’t really affirm.
“Itay! Kamusta napo ba kayo?” (Pa! how are you doing?) to which he usually
replies, “ok laang, pero minsan ako’y nakakalimutan, asaan ang aking biskwet?” (I’m fine, but sometimes forgotten, where is my biscuit?)
Close to town, is a facility for the old age to which he was taken. An analysis of raison d'être would present practicality. Two of his kids are abroad working. The third is incapable of such a responsibility. The spouse of one working abroad has her hands full with three kids and a job.
The facility poses an inviting solution. To eliminate element of institutional charity, payment is being made along with some/ minimal provision of supplies. Daily activities are set and programs and events are being held to delete monotony and boredom.
Food is served at the right time with attendants in tow. Sheets are changed every now and then. It is a reasonable deal. At least someone is watching over my grandfather.
And as expected some objections from other relatives (aunts, uncles, cousins etc.) were heard, but immediate blood ties would only permit them of an opinion, not an immediate action. You cannot have everyone take your side on decisions. Each would have their own valid reason, but not until an alternative solution is presented, the first decision would stand.
Thus he now still stays in the home for the aged.
Lolo # 2:
He is around the age of 95++. He has 11 living kids. Three are single (two are priests) and the rest would branch out their own family tree.
Previously, he was being taken care of the third single (unmarried) brood. With the aid of another one living in the same compound in Batangas, food and other services are offered. This is what I call, aid within vicinity. Other siblings would either be scattered somewhere in Manila, another in the US.
The third single unmarried brood is getting old himself. Pains of old age are being felt. And life is never enjoyed. The feeling of single-handedly being responsible for his father is strongly being felt, and motivation can hardly be found.
A family meeting of the big eleven took place (with an offspring-representative of the absent is optional). Wherein an option of a “home” was presented. No one was able to suggest an alternate option. No one even raised an objection. A number would assume agreement to the proposed solution.
Money was one of the matter at hand. None could commit an amount to sustain lolo’s stay in the main house, thus a hired help is out of the question.
The eldest took charge. The others sat silently. But as the “silence” deferred proper communication, each differed with expectations.
The eldest being an “action-man,” (and him needing to go back to the US soon) he wasted no time and arranged transfer to one of his chosen “home” in Laguna. His family having once owned an almost same facility in the US, he knows the trade and was able to set plans in action. As with lolo number one, to eliminate the concept of “charity” and instil utmost service, he presented a sum (unknown to most siblings) to be paid monthly and an agreement with the facilitator’s chairperson to give special treatment.
All was set. But with news spreading like wild fire in the forest, a portion of the second (2nd) generation children unexpectedly discussed the issue while in a party celebrating one of the two priest’s birthday. If money was the problem, an alternate solution would come from the 2nd generation with an idea of a bank account to be set up as a family fund. Monthly pledges were given according to capacity.
"Lo, bakit ka nandito?" (Gramps, why are you here?) a cousin
asked, "Eh mamamasyal lang kami ng barkada ko eh, iniwan ako rine." (My peers and I were going somehwere, but they left me here) "Ok lang po ba
kayo?" (Are you ok?) " Ok laang, masaya dine, me palaro, at kung ano ano
pa, kaso kakapirangot lang makain ko, gusto ko pa kumain eh!" (I'm ok, its so
fun here, there are games and a lot of stuffs, but i can only eat a small
amount, I want to eat more)
And like the eldest brood, actions were made by the 2nd Generation kids (SGK). The SGKs then pulled out Lolo form the home. The question of WHERE to place him was raised, which ended up going back to the old main house in batangas. The factor of WHO to take care of him ended with the same single (unmarried) brood. WHAT to do after was presented with a monthly contribution from the SGKs. With the 3 W’s all set, all went seemingly back to normal, or so I thought.
Everything (the placing to the home and the pull out thereafter) happened so fast that no one was able to set proper communications. Each party declared a breach of family code (not the legal one).
I guess the damage was not with the placing of Lolo in the home or the removal of him. I guess in the end, its with the ties being slowly severed (reserved for future post). Like a slowly rotting rope, each strand/ fiber being cut off, waiting for the rope to be wholely cut.
So tell me, placed in the same situations, what would your reactions be?
(sorry ang haba no?)
Note: busy po ng sobra, post lang muna kao ng mga dati kong diary write ups. Hehe.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Here are some "stolen" pictures of Bono during his visit to the vet.
Apparently, he was not the only one that got bigger, that would include my massive expenses for his care. (Dog food palan, pulubi ka na, dagdag pa ang complete dog shots).
Friday, October 3, 2008
-- Corinthians 13:7-8
This verse resounded in my mind as I watched the rehearsals of La Boheme. I knew nothing of this opera and shrugged it as another one of those play. But after watching some acts and hearing from Floy mentioning it as one of the greatest love story ever sung, all I could do was nod.
La Boheme is considered one of the "three or four most popular operas in the repertory" (Groos and Parker, xi). The opera, with music by Giacomo Puccini and libretto by Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa is based on Murger's Scenes de la Vie de Boheme; it was Puccini's 4th opera and the second of his four most mature works: Turandot, La Boheme, Tosca and Madame Butterfly. It debuted in Turin, Italy on February 1, 1896 (Ashbrook, 115).
Its plot centers around a community of artists in Paris, particularly between the romantic relationship of poet Rodolfo and grisette Mimi. Like the parallel relationship of Rodolfo's roommate Marcello and the beautiful Musetta, Mimi and Rodolfo's love is not without conflict. At the end of the opera, however, they are united tragically as Mimi returns to the garret and dies there, surrounded by her friends. Musical devices emphazise the libretto, which consists of common language turned poetic. For example, when Rudolfo and Marcello burn Marcello's play for warmth, "the orchestra depicts the reviving fire with a brilliant texture of pizzicato strings and detached woodwind and brass chords" (Groos and Parker, 13).
I was privy to a night of knitting for La Boheme ala Manila. It was just a rehearsal. But even with just Act 3 and 4, I wasn’t disappointed. Rather, I was like a child clamouring for more.
The rehearsals were non continuous as they needed to polish some orchestra – singer harmony and timing, but even with those, I was able to feel Puccini’s songs and possibly would’ve cried if not for the breaks. And it was in Italian for pete’s sake. My explanation? Love transcends language, time and place. La Boheme was a story of love. A story that makes every tune stand on its own even without the understanding of words.
I couldn’t comment much on technicalities as the rehearsals were still void of all those details. But even without microphones, each singer was able to be heard to most four corners of the theatre. They were not just actors. They were opera singers. Powerful voices. Powerful delivery. And I ask myself: How much more can they deliver on actual showing with all the microphones and light effects in place? I say a lot. I say a lot.
I didn’t know watching a rehearsal would be such a personal experience. I didn’t just see great singers belting out notes, what I saw were real people having fun. I saw how real and how un-diva like they were. With Gary goofing around each breaks and Jennifer and Ana flapping their arms flying back to their original position for a repeat act.
And it doesn’t help how Sir Floy Quintos built these actors in our hearts. It wasn’t just them being un-diva-ish nor their expected professionalism, its their passion for their art that caught my attention. They didn’t just sing for money (though that would really help much though), but for the exhilarated feeling of singing a wonderful opera. “Masabi ko lang na nakakanta ako sa CCP, ok na (With just the mere thought of me singing in CCP, is something already),” Floy quotes one singer.
*more of Floy Quinto’s thoughts on http://karlagutz.multiply.com/journal/item/124/LA_BOHEME_IN_MODERN_DAY_MANILA_WHY_NOT_by_Floy_Quintos
Rodolfo, a poet: Played by Gary Del Rosario, JUAN ALBERTO GAERLAN,
Mimi, a seamstress: Played by Jennifer Uy
Marcello, a painter: Played by LAWRENCE JATAYNA and
Musetta, a singer: Played by ANA FELEO and ELAINE LIM LEE
Schaunard, a musician: Played by JOHN OCAMPOS
*I might have missed some, so please pardon me and just seek the official list at Karla's site.
This will be my first opera. I expected boredom and a lot of yawning. But what I got was a happy heart and a couple of jumping feet (with excitement and inspiration).
A couple of tickets would be gateway to one memorable experience. Why a couple? GET A DATE. You’ll need a warm hand to hold hands with during the show, and cold lips to warm after the show.
Thank you Lorna
Thanks to the wonderful Lorna, I was able to watch Acts 3 and 4. And got a chance to talk with Floy Quintos (though he was addressing all of us, hehe).
Though I was a bit embarrassed with unexplainable shyness with her.
“Oh! I don’t have posters right now, sorry!” Lorna muttered as I said my thanks before leaving CCP.
Darn, I was remembered as the kid who asked for free posters for each play that I watched (First was Hamlet, then I think Avenue Q). Hehe.
Thanks again, Lorna!
For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
-- Matthew 6:21
Monday, September 29, 2008
Sige na nga. gets ko. magdusa kayo. Malayo pa February, pero ayaw nyo yun, araw ng patay, me kadate kayo sa semeneteryo?
PAg pupunta sa puntod ng mga kalolohan nyo me ka holding hands kayo? Sus!
Ewan. Sige na nga sasabihin ko na nga kung bakit ako nagkakaganito...
Kasi me pupuntahan ako sa Wednesday...
manunuod ng rehearsal ng La Boheme... tapos kukuha/ bibili ng ticket para sa real showing at ibibigay sa isa o dalwang blogger. ok gets? Ayaw nyo di wag.
So, prelude muna sa mismong showing... sino gusto sumama sakin sa rehearsal run?
Then we'll review the play together. Remember Rent? Well, Rent was kinda patterened to this play.
Tell you more about it in the coming post.
Ayt? So sino muna gusto sumama sa wednesday? 8pm?
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Yeah I know, it’s too early for Valentines and talk about the icky business called Luuurrve (Imagine love said in twisted French accent). But oh well, everyday SHOULD be valentines, right?
But I just got curious. Is there a blogger love story?
Shoot me. I can get a bit cheesy at times. There's just too much love in this world for me to stop and look for it in all facets of my life, even in blogging. The blogosphere is such a pretty fertile place to meet those that can make your heart beat faster right?
I mean, you must have a blogger crush at one time or another of your blogging history (I know i have one... hehe who could that be?). And as most bloggers meet up, mingle with other bloggers, do they transcend from being just cyber pals to real time lovers?
Just a curious wind that struck me.
But why all these fuzz? Well, I might cook up something for all those blogger crushes of yours. And again, it’s not too early for Valentines.
Tell me your thoughts.
Do you have a blogger crush?
If I set you two up on a date, would you go?
C'mon people, help me here. I need the statistics for me to cook up this devious plan I have before Oct 1. Ayt?
Thanks a bunch!
Saturday, September 20, 2008
A little kindness and a little understanding.
A slight nod and a shy smile
To drenched hearts that are suffering
Would have the sun shining for a mile
A little kindness. That’s what I usually mutter under my breath every time I encounter strangers (especially those with so much attitude that you’d closely loose your wits). I’d say, they must be going through a lot. I know I am.
I love to sit in coffee shops and watch people go by. That’s when I get to feel the emotions of those around me. One look at their face and you’d suddenly get a glimpse of their souls. I’d sometimes feel bits of loneliness, of happiness, of excitement and sometimes, facial expressions would tell of indigestion and loose bowels.
Sometimes I smile on how funny some people can be by merely looking at them, but sometimes I cringe when I feel someone with a heavy heart.
The only thing that I can offer at times is a smile (though be careful ‘coz some people might think you’re coming on to them and you’d end up together in bed, hehe kidding).
One time, while driving with friends, a 7 series BMW stopped moving in front of us. The driver was apparently texting. On impulse, I impatiently let out a series of honking bidding him to at least move a bit for me to drive a long. I didn’t expect that that man in that effin BMW would take the honking against me. He let out a screaming finger towards us. And as expected, my friends let out their own just to spite the man. The BMW ended up driving beside us cursing and seemingly challenging a fight.
Thank God for window locks. I stopped my friends from exchanging trite remarks with that man. I pleaded them not to.
“Wala pala kayo eh! Mga duwag! p@# i@! kayo! (You’re all nothing! Cowards! @#$!@!#!!)
After letting the BMW pass us by, I can see all of my friends helpless. They didn’t like not being able to fight back.
All I can say was, “He was a lonely heart,” and suddenly added, “Just forgive him.”
And with stubborn friends, I had to let one whole litany of lectures.
“For the life of me, he could’ve had a gun. And we wouldn’t be able to fight back with that. Your mere words won’t be enough to stop bullets would it?” And with blank stares all stopped with that realization.
“You can’t always fight fire with fire. You fight them with water.” “The fire will soon be extinguished afterwards.” (Ans as one pastor told me, you don’t fight mr. anger with another mr. anger, but with ms. love. And mr. anger will suddenly no longer know how to react but be no longer mr. anger. Its kinda like the law of action and reaction).
That instant, I prayed for that hot headed man.
But mind you I’m no saint. I asked my friends if they remembered the plate number. And they did.
I’ve always told them about the art of war. You have to know when to strike back. I told them that if they see that BMW car, I would NOT stop them from inflicting damages (hehe I’m so sorry! I think I learned this from my fraternity days). A coin scratch on that beautiful BMW would be demonic pleasure. Opo para akong tusong matsing. Pasensya, tao lang.
But then again. Kindness pare. Kindess.
Easy to say, but quite hard to do. Bubble burst often in unlikely times. Its human nature. But we were given a smart discerning mind to control ‘em temper.
I’d say be kind. Be kind. ‘Coz everyone is fighting their own battles. Be kind.
Monday, September 15, 2008
I opened my eyes and saw my girlfriend lying a few meters away from me. Lying on a long white soft cotton towel. Her hair alive with every blowing wind. She was wearing one of her black small two piece bikini. The troublesome bikini, I used to call it for each time she wears it, I’d have to protect her from each malicious stare. No one can strip her off her clothes except me.
But this time, I guess I’d have the chance. In the secluded part of Puerto Gallera, we were all alone, near that small lagoon to which one would have to go through a small cave to reach it.
Shocks, I love off-peaks.
With sand clinging to my feet, I slowly walk towards her. Memorizing each and every inch of her smooth skin, from her silky long legs, up to where heaven can almost be felt.
I slowly lower myself unto her body. Just the right fit. Looking at her beautiful peaceful face, a mixture of emotions swept over me… of contentment, of happiness, of lust, and of love. With each emotion, I give her one feather kiss.
I start with her eyebrows, each of her eyelid, her nose, then close to the edges of her lips. And as the tide goes high, we were quite oblivious already of the sea trying to cover us like a protective blanket. Maybe the sea was rather conservative. From me feet, the warm sea water crept up to almost to our waist. With each kiss comes with the rise of the tide. With each…
Tooot toot tooot tooot tooot toooot.
Huh? I slowly open my eyes and found myself inside my room. But it was all too real. I can almost still feel the warm water of the sea.
And as I look down, I find myself drenched in sea water. Well, almost. The faint smell and the light tinge of yellow told me I peed on my bed. At 25 years old. I peed on my bed.
And as I look to my left, my girlfriend is still beside me, sound asleep.
6:00. I have to get ready for office.
“Babe, we have to get up. Its 6:00 already”
“@#!#^^&!@” her reply was rather inaudible.
“Babe, I have to hang the comforter to dry…. Uhhhmmm I peed on it. Kinda”
With a sleepy bewildered look, her eyes grazed through the whole length of the bed. And suddenly zeroed in to the scene of the crime.
“Shit” was all she can mutter.
Embarassed, I just helped her up, let her do her morning ritual, while I took all bed stuffs outside.
Up till now she hasn’t mentioned the incident. No discussion was made. I hope she took it as one forgotten dream.
I did. One wet dream that I would like to forget. Washed away along the the shore of that imaginary Puerto Gallera shore.
Shhhh. Secret lang natin ito ha.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Name: Hanoi and Tsuru Restaurants
Main: J. Camus street, Davao City
Branch: Damosa Gateway, Lanang, Davao City
Contact details: Main: (+6382) 225 4501; Branch: (+6382) 235 0501
Cuisine: Hanoi is Vietnamese, Tsuru is Japanese
Yes, you’ve got two countries in one roof. Two different kitchens for one door. One is Vietnamese, the other Japanese. When you get past the main door, you’ll find yourself choosing between the left and the right hall. They’re not exactly mixed in one place. They still maintain the dining set up each culture would demand.
On your right, you’ve got wooden table and chairs. A sticks of wood tied together for a place mat. And your signature chopsticks for the Japanese Tsuru restaurant.
On your left, you have dark cushioned chairs. Your usual table setting with ceramic wares. An aquarium of crabs and Vietnamese costume worn staff.
Food rate: I’d say 8.5 out of 10, which is good. Though you’re seated on different sides (either Hanoi or the Tsuru side), you can still actually order from the other restaurant in your own table.
Ambiance: 7 out of 10. well, its cozy enough and they actually give justice to the culture they want to impart with their table setting. If you want a place where you can chat with friends, this is the place. Its brightly lit and not meant for a cozy date, but the food actually is enjoyable.
Service: The disadvantage of having two restaurants working together is that the other restaurant’s waiters cannot serve the ones on the other side, even if they ordered some dishes from the one on the other side of the wall. This might delay some orders.
There are days that they would have a small number of waiters, so you better know how to wait for your turn. And as most restaurants in Davao (and those down south), they close at 2pm and re-open at 5pm.
Cost: Japanese will range from 150 – 300. As well as the Vietnamese one. The prices are cheap compared to Manila. Reasonable prices for more than reasonable serving.
Some Recommendations: I would suggest you try all sorts from Jap to Viet. But I would suggest some dates to actually try them all.
Every 8th of the month, the Vietnamese side will have their buffet. This will include the crabs.
Every 15th and 30th, the Japanese one will have its turn.
On each of these dates, a variety of dishes will be served for you all to taste. So do remember these dates.
Overall Assessment: A must try restaurant in Davao.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
A couple of weeks ago, I went to St. Lukes early in the morning to get things started early. Midday, I had to return to the parking floor to get some stuff before lunch. And like those comic movies, when they would zoom in to the highlighted scene, once they come to the punch line, my vision suddenly zoomed in to my tires… 10 meters away from me (talk about superman zoom in features, talo pa ang inaasam asam kong dSLR).
I got one flat tire. Right one. The one near the driver’s.
Good thing about tubeless tires, they won’t go flat on the road, they’d have all the air out of them one you go immobile, parked.
With my usual calm state, first thing that came to my mind, like in all cases of emergency… ask dad.
Ok ok. I’ve eternally established in gargantuan proportions how much of a daddy’s boy I am. So stop the smirking and the endless condemnation already.
“Daddy, where’s that thingy that can lift the car up, I’m going to change tires,” I texted.
“The jack (oh that’s what it’s called!) is in that compartment at the back,” my dad replied.
“So where exactly shall I place it on the car?” I asked again.
“There’s that slot near the tire where you could fit the Jack in,” my dad patiently replied.
“Ok. But would the tire need a different knob? Are they the same?”
“Yes. It has a concave edge so it would fit the spare one,” my dad with all patience.
Then I looked at all my props for all these shenanigans. Then realised, the spare tire is flat as well.
“Dad, the spare is kinnnndddaaa flat too,” wishing some miracle would happen…
“Ok. Love you dad!” --- me with a big big grin.
I can almost hear his exasperated sigh. But oh well, I’m such a spoiled kid.
He went to change the tire as I watched, I mean helped. Helped, so as for me, of course, to learn the art of changing tires so that I may do it by myself once the need would arise.
But as I'd always say… I maybe spoiled, but I’m never a brat. Ayt?
Oh, did I say I love my dad so much? Hehe. I can’t imagine life without him. But yes, yes, I do have to learn how to do some stuff by myself. Learn the art of doing all sort of crap, like changing tires, taking the car sheets off the seats, checking the oil, and well... crap.
Don’t get me wrong… I may lack the knowledge on such simple tasks, but I still do know a lot. Like the pathophysiology and treatment of diabetes, the usual oncology treatments and the new treatments that are not out yet in the market, wash dishes, new porn sites… ooops… erase that last bit. Point is, I compensate on some things.
hehehe… I so love my dad.
Friday, September 5, 2008
I’ve been looking for a place to relax a bit. Somewhere quite near Manila. And I guess I’ve found one of those that I can call my haven, my place to enjoy my solitude (and if lucky, my corny cheesy moments witha loved one).
Name: Sonya’s Garden Restaurant & Country Bed & Breakfast
Where: Buck Estate, Alfonso, Cavite, Philippines (Actually, its more known to be close to tagaytay)
Restaurant: +63917 532 9097/ +63928 507 3300
Bed & breakfast: +63917 53 5140
Spa: +63928 507 3302
Fax: +6346 413 2081/ +6346 413 2082
(click read more for more info)
Cuisine: Healthy, vegetarian to Filipino (go to website for menu)
Food rate: 8.5 out of 10. The menu is quite limited, but still they are quite delicious. Most are healthy choices and are rather guilt free.
Ambiance: 9 out of 10. Garden people would love this place. And if you’re looking for a change of environment from the busy City life, this is the place… unless you have allergies to plants, pollens, flowers etc. of course.
Service: It acts as your usual restaurant. The thing I love about this place is that though menu is quite limited, you can actually request for your food items (lunch mostly but I’m not sure about breakfast) to be refilled, so it is almost like an eat all you can restaurant.
Breakfast costs around 420 Php
Lunch/ Dinner: 610 Php
Bed and breakfast: 3,000 - 3,400 overnight (includes 2 meals)
Hmmmm… I suggest you bring a date to this place. The nice cozy and relaxing atmosphere of this place is meant to be shared with a loved someone. I’m actually thinking of proposing for marriage in this garden, ala treasure hunt style (wag lang syang atakihin ng allergies). Hehe.
Plus!!!!!! They have event too! Wait for my next next next post regarding their Creative writing event.
I’d say, I found my hiding place.
From South Super Highway, exit Sta. Rosa. Upon reaching Tagaytay main Aguinaldo Highway, turn right towards Nasugbu, Batangas. Go past rotonda proceed 10kms. After Splendido Golf Course and Sunrise Hill make a right turn on Buck Estate. Drive 2kms. Left gate.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Flying with me was never a dull moment for officemates. One time my colleague was so sure something will happen just because he was flying with me. All was almost perfect, when at the last x-ray they had to detain me because of a large swiss knife complete with all sorts of screw driver, a clipper, pliers, the works. Imagine how I forgot it was there and how from the Phiippine Airport, that large thing got in another country. My colleague swears that one of these days, I'll probably give him a heart attack.
Recently, I've only been flying local, Cebu mostly, with Davao here and there. No more international adventures. But I guess luck is still at my side.
I've been late a lot of times. But at one time, I had to check in at a counter with a very large man (buwaya looking), with a very big belly, and a look that says "Don't mess with me."
I gave my e-ticket to which he sternly replied, "Late ka na ha, next flight ka na." At which he started muttering all the payments I had to make.
"Sir, hindi po ba guaranteed seat kasi naka book ako? before naman konting oras nalang nakaka check in pa ako"
"45 minutes before the flight. Dapat andito ka na, kundi ibibigay namin sa mga nagaantay ng flight ung slot mo." My world just crashed. I wanted to argue that I could just be upgraded to business class since I was an elite member, but he wanted me to buy another ticket. i just idn't understand why he was being so unhelpful. he wouldn't even benefit from another ticket sale.
I was never good with arguments and confrontations. I felt bad. The ground staff was a bit rude, he was never accomodating, never listened to my own opinion and treated his own as final and unbreakable. Plus, since I was on a hurry, I had to pay 1000k to upgrade myself to business class.
With my then smug face, I dragged my broke ass towards my unwilling business class seat.
But recent events came with a different twist. I learned to wake up earlier. Dress up faster. Pack up lighter. So with another PAL flight, I went an hour earlier last monday.
My flight was 3:00pm. I was there minutes before 2:00pm. I waited till I get to the counter from the short line that i followed.
Another check in coutner reopened. I was motioned to go straight towards it.
"Sir saan po? Wag nyo sabihin Cebu." an all smile pretty staff greeted.
"Ha? Cebu nga," I said with a contorted face to emphasize my puzzled state.
"Sir, Overbooked na po tayo ngayon,"
To which I defensively replied "Hindi ako late. Ayan o, wala pang 2:00. 45 minutes diba?"
My voice was rising already. My ears felt like they were on fire.
"Sir, oo nga po. Kaya po we sincerely (yeah right) apologize and would like to make up for your lost time."
I was ushered to a small operations office with a seemingly senior staff welcoming me as if i was part of a korean travel tour. It turns out that "make up for your lost time" means that i would have to be rebooked at the next flight. It means that I have to wait another 2-3 hours. It means that I would have to eat some more pastries at the lounge.
But it also means that I get to have a Free Roundtrip Ticket anywhere around the Philippines, valid for one year. I can now hear the songs of vacation calling. I've got the ticket. I only need the date when.
hehe. sometimes, my misadventures are replaced with a much welcomed adventure.
i love life. i love me. i love the Philippines.