| Your EQ is 153 |
 50 or less: Thanks for answering honestly. Now get yourself a shrink, quick! 51-70: When it comes to understanding human emotions, you'd have better luck understanding Chinese. 71-90: You've got more emotional intelligence than the average frat boy. Barely. 91-110: You're average. It's easy to predict how you'll react to things. But anyone could have guessed that. 111-130: You usually have it going on emotionally, but roadblocks tend to land you on your butt. 131-150: You are remarkable when it comes to relating with others. Only the biggest losers get under your skin. 150+: Two possibilities - you've either out "Dr. Phil-ed" Dr. Phil... or you're a dirty liar. |
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Emotional Quotient sa Bayot
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Florals and Stripes
I'm beginning to wonder... What is retail therapy?
Last Sunday, I finally downloaded the pictures from my camera. God, the pictures had been stored there for the longest time. Some of them are actually outdated I wonder why I still bothered to download them.
Being a professional camera whore I always find a reason to take a picture of my lovely self (duh) in any setting, any time. So when I was looking at the pics, I realized that most of the pictures that catch my attention are the ones in which I'm wearing some of my favorite ukay-ukay finds.
Of course I've mentioned several times that I breathe, eat, live ukay-ukay. For one, I'm poor. But more than that I simply love unique ukay-ukay pieces.
My loyal ukay-ukay bitch-in-tow is Sarah. Even back in Davao we've always been the more avid fags that keep on scouring Agdao, Bangkerohan, and Monteverde. Last week, on our way to our apartment - both of us feeling depressed - we stumbled upon an ukay-ukay shop. God, we all know the pernicious effects of depression and ukay-ukay mixed in together. We were like kids thrown in a large toyshop! We were squealing, we were running around, we couldn't be contained.
So Sarah left the store with three lovely, lovely blouses. And I grabbed a Mango jacket and a floral shirt. About the Mango jacket... oh yeah, it is Mango (for women, size 6), in rich khaki and very luxe indeed - perfect for Sagada! I had to tear off the inner lining of the jacket though because I could hardly fit in it. Hahahaha. It was tragic how I cut the thing into pieces, but I had no choice. I have yet to take a picture of the jacket and will do so as soon as it comes back from the laundry shop.
Meanwhile, here's a picture of the floral shirt (I know it's for women, but I'm a fag anyway). Sarah washed it for me that same night we bought it so that I could wear it last Friday.
Also below is a picture of me in my stripe shirt - one of my favorites recently. I bought this over a month ago at the Taft Avenue station of the MRT. I love stripes and they love me too (ok, enough of this narcissism).
And here is a picture of me in my skinny jeans (taken three weeks ago). The green sweater was given to me by Joyce (a former officemate and a dear friend) before I moved from Davao.
Last Sunday, I finally downloaded the pictures from my camera. God, the pictures had been stored there for the longest time. Some of them are actually outdated I wonder why I still bothered to download them.
Being a professional camera whore I always find a reason to take a picture of my lovely self (duh) in any setting, any time. So when I was looking at the pics, I realized that most of the pictures that catch my attention are the ones in which I'm wearing some of my favorite ukay-ukay finds.
Of course I've mentioned several times that I breathe, eat, live ukay-ukay. For one, I'm poor. But more than that I simply love unique ukay-ukay pieces.
My loyal ukay-ukay bitch-in-tow is Sarah. Even back in Davao we've always been the more avid fags that keep on scouring Agdao, Bangkerohan, and Monteverde. Last week, on our way to our apartment - both of us feeling depressed - we stumbled upon an ukay-ukay shop. God, we all know the pernicious effects of depression and ukay-ukay mixed in together. We were like kids thrown in a large toyshop! We were squealing, we were running around, we couldn't be contained.
So Sarah left the store with three lovely, lovely blouses. And I grabbed a Mango jacket and a floral shirt. About the Mango jacket... oh yeah, it is Mango (for women, size 6), in rich khaki and very luxe indeed - perfect for Sagada! I had to tear off the inner lining of the jacket though because I could hardly fit in it. Hahahaha. It was tragic how I cut the thing into pieces, but I had no choice. I have yet to take a picture of the jacket and will do so as soon as it comes back from the laundry shop.
Meanwhile, here's a picture of the floral shirt (I know it's for women, but I'm a fag anyway). Sarah washed it for me that same night we bought it so that I could wear it last Friday.
Also below is a picture of me in my stripe shirt - one of my favorites recently. I bought this over a month ago at the Taft Avenue station of the MRT. I love stripes and they love me too (ok, enough of this narcissism).
And here is a picture of me in my skinny jeans (taken three weeks ago). The green sweater was given to me by Joyce (a former officemate and a dear friend) before I moved from Davao.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Vital Statistics
I'm beginning to wonder... What do numbers tell us about our health?
Yesterday, my sister and I were at the Mercury Drug Store right outside our apartment to buy some toothpaste. Most of you must've noticed this large machine that supposedly measures your height, weight, and other stuff that sits in the corner of the grocery area. I've always been curious how it exactly works but only had the time try it for my self yesterday.
So here are the (shocking) results...
First, I've not gained weight. All right, I have gained 3 lbs (65 kg) since the last time I weighed my self about a couple of months ago. Isn't that frustrating? I've been eating like hell, until I'd almost puke, for the past two months or so and that's all that I get? Three bloody pounds? All along I thought I've in fact gained considerable weight taking from the paunch I developed. Ugh!
Second, now based on the data above, the machine can also measure your body fat estimation. I registered a fat index of 12.3 percent and fat mass of 17 lb and 6 oz (7.9 kg). I have yet to see what exactly are the implications of such indices, but it does not seem normal again. Supposedly, the normal fat index is 14 to 20 percent, obviously I'm below that range. More so with my fat mass, which should normally be 9.3 to 14.3 kg. Surprise, surprise!!!
Third, given my height (5 ft and 10 inches or 180 cm), my body mass index (BMI) is 20.1 kg/meter squared. The normal BMI for my weight is between 20 to 24.9. At least that's some good news! For a change, something's normal about my statistics!
Fourth, and this is the most shocking... I'm HYPERTENSIVE! My maximum systolic is 143 mmHg and minimum diastolic is 74 mmHg. My diastolic is normal (thank god) but anything above 140 for systolic is already hypertensive. Argh! How bad can it get??? For somebody as skinny as me, I thought having hypertension should be the last of my concerns! But alas, weight does not have anything to do with it from what I heard.
Ok, I've been smoking lately and I drink gallons of coffee a day. I'm sleep deprived; I hardly have any exercise. Isn't that the perfect recipe for hypertension? It's bad enough that the disease runs in my family, so I have to address this health concern pronto.
Isn't it strange that it takes a bloody machine with the voice of a drag queen to tell me that I'm unhealthy?
Yesterday, my sister and I were at the Mercury Drug Store right outside our apartment to buy some toothpaste. Most of you must've noticed this large machine that supposedly measures your height, weight, and other stuff that sits in the corner of the grocery area. I've always been curious how it exactly works but only had the time try it for my self yesterday.
So here are the (shocking) results...
First, I've not gained weight. All right, I have gained 3 lbs (65 kg) since the last time I weighed my self about a couple of months ago. Isn't that frustrating? I've been eating like hell, until I'd almost puke, for the past two months or so and that's all that I get? Three bloody pounds? All along I thought I've in fact gained considerable weight taking from the paunch I developed. Ugh!
Second, now based on the data above, the machine can also measure your body fat estimation. I registered a fat index of 12.3 percent and fat mass of 17 lb and 6 oz (7.9 kg). I have yet to see what exactly are the implications of such indices, but it does not seem normal again. Supposedly, the normal fat index is 14 to 20 percent, obviously I'm below that range. More so with my fat mass, which should normally be 9.3 to 14.3 kg. Surprise, surprise!!!
Third, given my height (5 ft and 10 inches or 180 cm), my body mass index (BMI) is 20.1 kg/meter squared. The normal BMI for my weight is between 20 to 24.9. At least that's some good news! For a change, something's normal about my statistics!
Fourth, and this is the most shocking... I'm HYPERTENSIVE! My maximum systolic is 143 mmHg and minimum diastolic is 74 mmHg. My diastolic is normal (thank god) but anything above 140 for systolic is already hypertensive. Argh! How bad can it get??? For somebody as skinny as me, I thought having hypertension should be the last of my concerns! But alas, weight does not have anything to do with it from what I heard.
Ok, I've been smoking lately and I drink gallons of coffee a day. I'm sleep deprived; I hardly have any exercise. Isn't that the perfect recipe for hypertension? It's bad enough that the disease runs in my family, so I have to address this health concern pronto.
Isn't it strange that it takes a bloody machine with the voice of a drag queen to tell me that I'm unhealthy?
Friday, November 24, 2006
Noche Buena with the Igorots
I'm beginning to wonder... Who would take my photos in Sagada?
While everybody else is planning how to spend their Noche Buena and all those crap for Christmas I've been slowly planning my trip to the Mountain Province in December. Since I am as poor as a rat nowadays I can't go home to faraway Surigao (or Surinam as Sarah calls it) for the holidays. I figured I could spend some time alone during the holiday break when the rest of the populace are having a grand time with their family reunions.
I've always wanted to go to the Mountain Province to see the rice terraces. Now's my chance to take the long trip because our office has this force leave thing after Christmas and we only go back to work after the New Year. I might not have the chance again to take a long break so to Mountain Province it is then.
Recently I've been scouring the internet on how to reach the Mountain Province. I saw a number of blog posts about their trips to the Sagada-Bontoc-Bananue area and I'm learning a great deal about the place from the perspective of tourists. Knowing how to get there, where to stay, and places to see is always helpful when I don't have the luxury of being with a package tour.
I'm quite used to traveling alone but this should be different because the Mountain Province is no city that has its all too familiar conveniences. How exciting is that? I'm also going there on perhaps one of the coldest season of the area. My moth-smelling jackets should be put to good use. I learned as well that I need a pair of sturdy sandals to help me navigate the steep and muddy terraces, slipppery caves and waterfalls. I should of course not forget to have an obligatory photo with an Igorot or better yet grab a nice-looking Igorot for company. And while I'm at it, I should wear a bahag no? (Note to Self: Grab a bahag in Banaue.)
Now the million dollar question of the moment is: Who is taking my pictures during my trip? What is a good trip without some camwhoring?
Any volunteers?
While everybody else is planning how to spend their Noche Buena and all those crap for Christmas I've been slowly planning my trip to the Mountain Province in December. Since I am as poor as a rat nowadays I can't go home to faraway Surigao (or Surinam as Sarah calls it) for the holidays. I figured I could spend some time alone during the holiday break when the rest of the populace are having a grand time with their family reunions.
I've always wanted to go to the Mountain Province to see the rice terraces. Now's my chance to take the long trip because our office has this force leave thing after Christmas and we only go back to work after the New Year. I might not have the chance again to take a long break so to Mountain Province it is then.
Recently I've been scouring the internet on how to reach the Mountain Province. I saw a number of blog posts about their trips to the Sagada-Bontoc-Bananue area and I'm learning a great deal about the place from the perspective of tourists. Knowing how to get there, where to stay, and places to see is always helpful when I don't have the luxury of being with a package tour.
I'm quite used to traveling alone but this should be different because the Mountain Province is no city that has its all too familiar conveniences. How exciting is that? I'm also going there on perhaps one of the coldest season of the area. My moth-smelling jackets should be put to good use. I learned as well that I need a pair of sturdy sandals to help me navigate the steep and muddy terraces, slipppery caves and waterfalls. I should of course not forget to have an obligatory photo with an Igorot or better yet grab a nice-looking Igorot for company. And while I'm at it, I should wear a bahag no? (Note to Self: Grab a bahag in Banaue.)
Now the million dollar question of the moment is: Who is taking my pictures during my trip? What is a good trip without some camwhoring?
Any volunteers?
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Raw Dicks
I'm beginning to wonder... Why do I have a second entry today?
I'm bloody sleepy at work right now. That distressing letter did not really give me a good night's sleep. I kept on thinking about jumping from the window of our fourth floor apartment. Hahaha. Exaggerating cunt!
Sarah and I went "walking" around the UP campus last night after work. We haven't had any exercise since the Japanese occupation or something and we figured we need to lose some of the flab that have found its way at the most unlikely places of our body. Ok, count me out on that 'coz I actually need some flab. But Sarah has this thingie going on next month that requires her to wear some bikini (or whatever she can put on by then).
Back in college I used to jog around the campus, albeit on erratic occasions. The UP oval is a perfect place to do some jogging or, in our case, walking. It's well paved and the trees offer a magnificent backdrop. Ok, the boys are yummy too. Hay, there's no better sight than boys sweating it out. Right, Sarah?
After jogging, Sarah and I went to the UP Shopping Center for dinner at Rodicks. We prefer to call it RawDicks. Hahahaha. Appropriately enough we had skinless longanisa. Skinless is always better. Hahahaha. We are such green-minded cunts, aren't we? Allyson, the Diva from Cotabato, followed us at RawDicks.
We both went back to Philcoa (where Sarah lives) to change some clothes. Out came Sarah's pirated DVD of Lie with Me, a Canadian erotic film. Hay, erotic is maybe an understatement, it practically borders on soft porn. The horny fags that we are, we were were only watching the sex scenes. Constantly we were asking ourselves if they were actually doing it. The actor (he's actually on Six Feet Under) had a cute dick, that's Sarah's term ha, not Allyson's or mine who thought it was rather average. The last thing I want to see is a cute dick. Cute is boring, I want it mindblowing (I'm such a sex-deprived bastard!!!).
I slept in the MRT on the way home.
Ok, let's skip the part where I was reading the rejection letter.
I dreamt that I was held up while walking in broad day light. I willed my self to wake up, only to realize that my sister is knocking on the door back from work at 5:30 in the morning. I had a throbbing headache. I blamed it on that fucking letter.
I managed to sleep a bit in the MRT to work. My headache was stronger than ever.
After crossing the overpass I saw a police car with a group of cops standing around it. The next thing I know I was looking at a body of a dead baby on the grass right outside the guardhouse of one of the buildings of UP. It looked like a full-term baby. It was naked, as pink as newborn mouse. Its hair was matted. It looked peaceful, like it was sleeping on the curb. A cop covered it with a dirty shirt. Three seconds of having a sight of that baby on the ground was enough to shake me out of my wits. I was repulsed. Goosebumps were all over my body.
By the time I arrived at the office I had no energy to speak of.
I'm bloody sleepy at work right now. That distressing letter did not really give me a good night's sleep. I kept on thinking about jumping from the window of our fourth floor apartment. Hahaha. Exaggerating cunt!
Sarah and I went "walking" around the UP campus last night after work. We haven't had any exercise since the Japanese occupation or something and we figured we need to lose some of the flab that have found its way at the most unlikely places of our body. Ok, count me out on that 'coz I actually need some flab. But Sarah has this thingie going on next month that requires her to wear some bikini (or whatever she can put on by then).
Back in college I used to jog around the campus, albeit on erratic occasions. The UP oval is a perfect place to do some jogging or, in our case, walking. It's well paved and the trees offer a magnificent backdrop. Ok, the boys are yummy too. Hay, there's no better sight than boys sweating it out. Right, Sarah?
After jogging, Sarah and I went to the UP Shopping Center for dinner at Rodicks. We prefer to call it RawDicks. Hahahaha. Appropriately enough we had skinless longanisa. Skinless is always better. Hahahaha. We are such green-minded cunts, aren't we? Allyson, the Diva from Cotabato, followed us at RawDicks.
We both went back to Philcoa (where Sarah lives) to change some clothes. Out came Sarah's pirated DVD of Lie with Me, a Canadian erotic film. Hay, erotic is maybe an understatement, it practically borders on soft porn. The horny fags that we are, we were were only watching the sex scenes. Constantly we were asking ourselves if they were actually doing it. The actor (he's actually on Six Feet Under) had a cute dick, that's Sarah's term ha, not Allyson's or mine who thought it was rather average. The last thing I want to see is a cute dick. Cute is boring, I want it mindblowing (I'm such a sex-deprived bastard!!!).
I slept in the MRT on the way home.
Ok, let's skip the part where I was reading the rejection letter.
I dreamt that I was held up while walking in broad day light. I willed my self to wake up, only to realize that my sister is knocking on the door back from work at 5:30 in the morning. I had a throbbing headache. I blamed it on that fucking letter.
I managed to sleep a bit in the MRT to work. My headache was stronger than ever.
After crossing the overpass I saw a police car with a group of cops standing around it. The next thing I know I was looking at a body of a dead baby on the grass right outside the guardhouse of one of the buildings of UP. It looked like a full-term baby. It was naked, as pink as newborn mouse. Its hair was matted. It looked peaceful, like it was sleeping on the curb. A cop covered it with a dirty shirt. Three seconds of having a sight of that baby on the ground was enough to shake me out of my wits. I was repulsed. Goosebumps were all over my body.
By the time I arrived at the office I had no energy to speak of.
Tuwaw (Cry)
I'm beginning to wonder... What's happening to my life?
Arrggghhhh!!! I received the dreaded letter from this agency where I took an employment exam a couple of weeks back. God knows how bad I want that job. It's the organization of my dreams, so to speak. Seeing the letter that practically told me I wasn't good enough for them simply broke me to pieces last night.
I saw my self-esteem plummet at an all-time low. I'm still grieving today in fact.
After college everything seemed really clear where I was heading. I even placed a time-frame to my goals. So far everything has been ok, but ok is not good enough. It has to be excellent; all the objectives had to be met at exactly the precise time, which unfortunately is not the case right now. I don't want to put in much details at this point because my shortcomings just depress me.
I want to take this in a mature manner though. There are simply plans and goals that do not go quite as well as expected. It does not mean it's the end of the world already although it does seem like it right now.
Hay, I'm just in a shitty mood right now. Everything's not going as planned. FAILURE SUCKSSSSSS!!! Nothing's going anywhere close to what I really want.
I hope I can get over this bout of depression. I always seem to get back based on past experiences though. I just need to get this out of my system for now and I'd be back to wearing my best pout soon.
***
Photo credit: Salon.com
Arrggghhhh!!! I received the dreaded letter from this agency where I took an employment exam a couple of weeks back. God knows how bad I want that job. It's the organization of my dreams, so to speak. Seeing the letter that practically told me I wasn't good enough for them simply broke me to pieces last night.
I saw my self-esteem plummet at an all-time low. I'm still grieving today in fact.
After college everything seemed really clear where I was heading. I even placed a time-frame to my goals. So far everything has been ok, but ok is not good enough. It has to be excellent; all the objectives had to be met at exactly the precise time, which unfortunately is not the case right now. I don't want to put in much details at this point because my shortcomings just depress me.
I want to take this in a mature manner though. There are simply plans and goals that do not go quite as well as expected. It does not mean it's the end of the world already although it does seem like it right now.
Hay, I'm just in a shitty mood right now. Everything's not going as planned. FAILURE SUCKSSSSSS!!! Nothing's going anywhere close to what I really want.
I hope I can get over this bout of depression. I always seem to get back based on past experiences though. I just need to get this out of my system for now and I'd be back to wearing my best pout soon.
***
Photo credit: Salon.com
Monday, November 20, 2006
The Chos Were Eliminated
I'm beginning to wonder... Does being polite (or nice) really suck sometimes?
That one was said by one of the Cho brothers, my favorite team in the current season of The Amazin Race (Season 10). I was watching last week's episode on TV in the weekend. In this particular segment where the contestants arrived from a train ride in Helsinki they had to hail a cab. While the other contestant cut in the line the Cho brothers chose to go the end of it and waited for their turn.
The brothers have been getting a lot of admiration for the ethcs they've shown on the entire race, meritting them the most popular among the teams this season. They have this alliance with two other teams and they always see to it that they wait for the lagging teams or perform together in some tasks so they can help each other as well. Hay, basta they are nice.
I was getting my updates from the CBS website and was disappointed to learn that they have been eliminated in Kieve, Ukraine. Arrggghhh... I just hate to see them go.
As of now, I'm not rooting for any of the teams anymore. Haggard talaga. The models are hot though but very antagonistic. The beauty queens are bitches. The other couple bicker like hell. The mothers are backstabbing cunts. Haggard!!!
P.S.
I also learned that the Lopez couple have been eliminated from The Amazing Race Asia. And the good news is the episodes are being updated on YouTube!!! I so love YouTube!
That one was said by one of the Cho brothers, my favorite team in the current season of The Amazin Race (Season 10). I was watching last week's episode on TV in the weekend. In this particular segment where the contestants arrived from a train ride in Helsinki they had to hail a cab. While the other contestant cut in the line the Cho brothers chose to go the end of it and waited for their turn.
The brothers have been getting a lot of admiration for the ethcs they've shown on the entire race, meritting them the most popular among the teams this season. They have this alliance with two other teams and they always see to it that they wait for the lagging teams or perform together in some tasks so they can help each other as well. Hay, basta they are nice.
I was getting my updates from the CBS website and was disappointed to learn that they have been eliminated in Kieve, Ukraine. Arrggghhh... I just hate to see them go.
As of now, I'm not rooting for any of the teams anymore. Haggard talaga. The models are hot though but very antagonistic. The beauty queens are bitches. The other couple bicker like hell. The mothers are backstabbing cunts. Haggard!!!
P.S.
I also learned that the Lopez couple have been eliminated from The Amazing Race Asia. And the good news is the episodes are being updated on YouTube!!! I so love YouTube!
Friday, November 17, 2006
Hay
Our office had this major conference for the past three days. I was involved in documentation so I was stuck in the plenary hall listening to the speeches while rapidly typing what they were saying.
The conference concluded a couple of hours back. Nothing exhausting exactly, neither was it exciting.
But still, hay...
The conference concluded a couple of hours back. Nothing exhausting exactly, neither was it exciting.
But still, hay...
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Duh
I'm beginning to wonder... Why am I lethargic lately?
Hay, I'm just so lazy to post something today. So i might as well place five random stuff here just for the sake of it. :(
1) I'm currently digging Imelda big time. She's on my screensaver. Bitch!
2) I was just checking my site meter, apparently I'm averaging 12 hits a day. I can't believe people think I'm worth reading. Whoever you are... thanks a lot bitches.
3) God, someone from Singapore came across my blog! And Riyadh, Melbourne, Dubai, Blegium, UK, New Jersey, Ontario and Japan. Who the fuck is reading? C'mon, let me hear from you.
4) Last weekend I was at the Shangrila Mall to watch the current Cine Europa. I actually broke my record! Four bloody films in a row! I'm so proud of my pansy self. I watched films from Belgium, Czech Republic, Netherlands, and Spain on Sunday. The day before that I saw two: from Portugal and the UK.
5) I'm waiting for news on something that would radically change my life. Hay, putah, I hate waiting pa naman.
Hay, I'm just so lazy to post something today. So i might as well place five random stuff here just for the sake of it. :(
1) I'm currently digging Imelda big time. She's on my screensaver. Bitch!
2) I was just checking my site meter, apparently I'm averaging 12 hits a day. I can't believe people think I'm worth reading. Whoever you are... thanks a lot bitches.
3) God, someone from Singapore came across my blog! And Riyadh, Melbourne, Dubai, Blegium, UK, New Jersey, Ontario and Japan. Who the fuck is reading? C'mon, let me hear from you.
4) Last weekend I was at the Shangrila Mall to watch the current Cine Europa. I actually broke my record! Four bloody films in a row! I'm so proud of my pansy self. I watched films from Belgium, Czech Republic, Netherlands, and Spain on Sunday. The day before that I saw two: from Portugal and the UK.
5) I'm waiting for news on something that would radically change my life. Hay, putah, I hate waiting pa naman.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
I Just Fucking Love Imelda
I'm beginning to wonder... What are the Seven Portals to Peace and Order? Let's listen to Imelda Marcos.
This is a snippet of the documentary Imelda, which was shown locally about a couple of years back. That section above is probably the single most hilarious part of the movie.
Now, Imelda is back having made the frontpages about her accessory line. She could just never be stopped, doesn't she?
This is a snippet of the documentary Imelda, which was shown locally about a couple of years back. That section above is probably the single most hilarious part of the movie.
Now, Imelda is back having made the frontpages about her accessory line. She could just never be stopped, doesn't she?
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Presenting... Nanay Ni Rashid
I'm beginning to wonder... Who is Nanay Ni Rashid?
That is Sarah's new blog! To view, click here. Welcome to blogspot bitch!
As an opening salvo, she posted a survey. On account of my fucking boredom, I'm answering it. Here we go.
3 names you go by:
Girard, G, Iping
3 things you like about yourself:
3 things lang? Shet. Don't bother. I like a million things about my self... NARCISSISM is that you?
3 things you hate/dislike about yourself:
1) I'm never, never satisfied; 2) I have the worst skin on earth; 3) I don't read fast enough.
3 parts of your heritage:
Ano daw? Heritage? Clueless...
3 things that scare you:
1) Old age, 2) Pimples, 3) A tummy... NARCISSISM speaking
3 of your everyday essentials:
1) Sunblock, 2) Sunglasses, 3) Olive oil (duh, read two entries below daw)
3 things you are wearing right now:
1) A pout, 2) Skinny jeans, 3) A green sweater given by Joyce
3 of your favorite bands/artists:
1) Madonna, 2) Kylie, 3) Barbra Streisand (how gay can I get?)
3 of your favorite songs at present:
1) Knock Me Off From My Feet, 2) It's You by Johny Budz, 3) Waiting in Vain by Annie Lennox
3 things you want to try in the next 12 months:
1) Sumakay ng kabayo na ngiti lang ang suot, 2) get a relationship, 3) learn how to write better
3 things you want in a relationship:
Next question na beh.
2 truths and a lie:
I'm so not good at lying, pass na lang.
3 physical things about the opposite/same sex that appeal to you:
1) Piercing eyes, 2) A long tongue, 3) A mind-blowing, astounding butt
3 things you just can't do:
1) Fly, 2) Drive a car, 3) Dance ballet
3 of your favorite hobbies:
1) Swimming, 2) Yoga, 3) ReadingAndWatchingMovies
3 things you want to do really badly right now:
1) Smoke, 2) KissAndHug, 3) Adopt an African kid (so Madonna and Angelina Jolie)
3 careers you're considering:
Hay, what an easy question... of course 1) Pornstar, 2) Prostitute, 3) BoiToi
3 places you want to go on vacation:
1) Brazil, 2) India, 3) Thailand
(runners up: Russia, New York City, Australia, Maldives, Argentina)
3 kids names:
Kids' names??? What the fuck for?
3 things you want to do before you die:
1) Be a UN Ambassador, 2) Travel the world, 3) Live in Manhattan
That is Sarah's new blog! To view, click here. Welcome to blogspot bitch!
As an opening salvo, she posted a survey. On account of my fucking boredom, I'm answering it. Here we go.
3 names you go by:
Girard, G, Iping
3 things you like about yourself:
3 things lang? Shet. Don't bother. I like a million things about my self... NARCISSISM is that you?
3 things you hate/dislike about yourself:
1) I'm never, never satisfied; 2) I have the worst skin on earth; 3) I don't read fast enough.
3 parts of your heritage:
Ano daw? Heritage? Clueless...
3 things that scare you:
1) Old age, 2) Pimples, 3) A tummy... NARCISSISM speaking
3 of your everyday essentials:
1) Sunblock, 2) Sunglasses, 3) Olive oil (duh, read two entries below daw)
3 things you are wearing right now:
1) A pout, 2) Skinny jeans, 3) A green sweater given by Joyce
3 of your favorite bands/artists:
1) Madonna, 2) Kylie, 3) Barbra Streisand (how gay can I get?)
3 of your favorite songs at present:
1) Knock Me Off From My Feet, 2) It's You by Johny Budz, 3) Waiting in Vain by Annie Lennox
3 things you want to try in the next 12 months:
1) Sumakay ng kabayo na ngiti lang ang suot, 2) get a relationship, 3) learn how to write better
3 things you want in a relationship:
Next question na beh.
2 truths and a lie:
I'm so not good at lying, pass na lang.
3 physical things about the opposite/same sex that appeal to you:
1) Piercing eyes, 2) A long tongue, 3) A mind-blowing, astounding butt
3 things you just can't do:
1) Fly, 2) Drive a car, 3) Dance ballet
3 of your favorite hobbies:
1) Swimming, 2) Yoga, 3) ReadingAndWatchingMovies
3 things you want to do really badly right now:
1) Smoke, 2) KissAndHug, 3) Adopt an African kid (so Madonna and Angelina Jolie)
3 careers you're considering:
Hay, what an easy question... of course 1) Pornstar, 2) Prostitute, 3) BoiToi
3 places you want to go on vacation:
1) Brazil, 2) India, 3) Thailand
(runners up: Russia, New York City, Australia, Maldives, Argentina)
3 kids names:
Kids' names??? What the fuck for?
3 things you want to do before you die:
1) Be a UN Ambassador, 2) Travel the world, 3) Live in Manhattan
A Ball-Crushing Experience
I'm beginning to wonder... What is the truth about skinny jeans?
Right now I'm wearing my tight-hugging, thigh-wrapping, tummy-pressing, and ball-crushing skinny jeans. Skinny jeans have been all the rage in fashion these days, maybe next to tights (for women only and for brave men). Riding on this fashion wave, I scoured some ukay-ukay stalls at the Taft Avenue station of the MRT a month ago to look for the ultimate skinny jeans. The womens' jeans section are the only racks I can go to. Definitely the men's pants are out of the question.
Doing ukay-ukay of course is not the most pleasant shopping experience for most people. I find it as the ultimate retail heaven though. So off I was flipping through the jeans that smell of newly-minted ukay-ukay laced with dust and whatnot. I grabbed a pair of Uniqlo women's jeans that I figured would fit me. In a fitting room as tiny as a shoebox I forced my self into women's jeans, tucking my stomach and tugging the jeans up my thighs. With hardly any breath left from all the effort I still mustered a sly pout. The jeans wrapped my legs just perfectly while I was totally oblivious of the discomfort. Operation skinny jeans accomplished with a budget of P180. The next day, my sister and I were lured by the ukay-ukay store near our apartment. This time grabbed I another pair of ultra skinny jeans to the tune of, again, P180.
I was convinced that the skinny jeans look fabulous on me. My thin, long legs are accentuated and I actually have a butt sticking from my usually flat behind. I know something's wrong with me and skinny jeans though when fifteen minutes into wearing it I was almost out of breath. I was tucking my tummy the whole time. But I figured I was still adjusting to it so still off I went to the office proudly strutting in my ukay-ukay find.
Riding the jeep however was an ordeal as I could hardly bend my knees. Ditto for taking the hike up the stairs of the MRT station. I was practically hopping my way up while maintaining some semblance of composure. Sitting in the train I felt the jeans hike a bit to my waist, hence pressing my tummy beyond discomfort. I was virtually on the verge of asphyxiation. And my balls... oh, my balls, they were crushed to inftertility.
At the office (like right now), I'm sitting in front of the PC the whole day with the waist band of jeans pressing deeper into my tummy until I had no choice but to open the top button. I could hardly bend my knees so I keep my legs streched in front of me. My balls have gone numb. Every five minutes I had to tug my pants here and there to make the whole ordeal more bearable (just like what I did a minute back).
Despite all the discomfort, I'm not about to be daunted. I'm going to stand proud and pretty in these jeans no matter what... because I know I look fabulous in them. Who said beauty was never painful? But I know what to do when I arrive home at the end of the day. I'm going to pluck my self from these jeans and simply breath.
***
Photo credits:
(1) and (2) The Sartorialist... definitely the best street-style blog on blogdom!
(3) Helsinki Looks
(4) Stockholm Street Style
Right now I'm wearing my tight-hugging, thigh-wrapping, tummy-pressing, and ball-crushing skinny jeans. Skinny jeans have been all the rage in fashion these days, maybe next to tights (for women only and for brave men). Riding on this fashion wave, I scoured some ukay-ukay stalls at the Taft Avenue station of the MRT a month ago to look for the ultimate skinny jeans. The womens' jeans section are the only racks I can go to. Definitely the men's pants are out of the question.
Doing ukay-ukay of course is not the most pleasant shopping experience for most people. I find it as the ultimate retail heaven though. So off I was flipping through the jeans that smell of newly-minted ukay-ukay laced with dust and whatnot. I grabbed a pair of Uniqlo women's jeans that I figured would fit me. In a fitting room as tiny as a shoebox I forced my self into women's jeans, tucking my stomach and tugging the jeans up my thighs. With hardly any breath left from all the effort I still mustered a sly pout. The jeans wrapped my legs just perfectly while I was totally oblivious of the discomfort. Operation skinny jeans accomplished with a budget of P180. The next day, my sister and I were lured by the ukay-ukay store near our apartment. This time grabbed I another pair of ultra skinny jeans to the tune of, again, P180.
I was convinced that the skinny jeans look fabulous on me. My thin, long legs are accentuated and I actually have a butt sticking from my usually flat behind. I know something's wrong with me and skinny jeans though when fifteen minutes into wearing it I was almost out of breath. I was tucking my tummy the whole time. But I figured I was still adjusting to it so still off I went to the office proudly strutting in my ukay-ukay find.
Riding the jeep however was an ordeal as I could hardly bend my knees. Ditto for taking the hike up the stairs of the MRT station. I was practically hopping my way up while maintaining some semblance of composure. Sitting in the train I felt the jeans hike a bit to my waist, hence pressing my tummy beyond discomfort. I was virtually on the verge of asphyxiation. And my balls... oh, my balls, they were crushed to inftertility.
At the office (like right now), I'm sitting in front of the PC the whole day with the waist band of jeans pressing deeper into my tummy until I had no choice but to open the top button. I could hardly bend my knees so I keep my legs streched in front of me. My balls have gone numb. Every five minutes I had to tug my pants here and there to make the whole ordeal more bearable (just like what I did a minute back).
Despite all the discomfort, I'm not about to be daunted. I'm going to stand proud and pretty in these jeans no matter what... because I know I look fabulous in them. Who said beauty was never painful? But I know what to do when I arrive home at the end of the day. I'm going to pluck my self from these jeans and simply breath.
***
Photo credits:
(1) and (2) The Sartorialist... definitely the best street-style blog on blogdom!
(3) Helsinki Looks
(4) Stockholm Street Style
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Reading in the MRT
I'm beginning to wonder?... Are some books worth reading the second time?
It has been my habit to not go out of the house without a book, at least most of the time. This started in college when I was really into my big library phase. I preferrred to read some non-fiction when I waited for my next class, being the reclusive cunt that I was back then. I also read in the semi-lighted theater when I waited for a movie to start. I read when I get in line at the ATM.
Right now, a "must" item in my bag is a book, along with my sunglasses (of course!!!), lip balm, alcohol, and olive oil (you'll never know when I'd need some lubrication... lol!).
When I started seriously commuting on the MRT - like on a daily basis, twenty minutes each way - having a book is the perfect way to not get bored. Well, unless there's a cutie in the same coach.
Right now I'm re-reading The Hours by Micheal Cunningham. One time I ran out of books to read so I picked up that said novel from our shelf although I've read it a couple of months back. When I first read it I practically rushed reading a book that is meant to be savored. Cunningham's use of language and tone is impeccable, with long, solid sentences that are very contemplative - and neurotic.
Neurosis is what the book's about in fact. It tells the story of a day in the lives of three women who live in three different periods. One of those women is the literary genius - and famous neurotic - Virginia Woolf while she was writing Mrs. Dalloway. The latter holds all the three characters together as revealed in the book's amazing conclusion. It's indeed a very interesting book and re-reading it allows me to dig deeper into it's subtext while the MRT rocks back and forth, while people step on my toes, while the train wheezes past the massive skeletons of huge billboards.
For the longest time my book of choice while riding the MRT was Becoming a Man: Half a Life Story by Paul Monette. Again, it's re-reading a book I've finished several months previously. Becoming a Man is a memoir of a gay man's struggle with hiding in the closet. It's a very tedious read because the author was obviously severely punishing himself as he tries to repress his sexuality and pass off as straight.
I decided to read it again because it somehow resonates with my earlier experiences (gasp!) and I can't just get over how well-written it is. I love how astutely the Paul Monette conveyed his struggles with cunning use of language. It's also striking how much courage he must've mustered to write about the not-so-pleasant coming out process. The book won a National Book Award for Non-Fiction. The author died of AIDS in 1995.
***
Photo credits:
1) Best Web Buys
2) Micheal Cunningham Writer.com
It has been my habit to not go out of the house without a book, at least most of the time. This started in college when I was really into my big library phase. I preferrred to read some non-fiction when I waited for my next class, being the reclusive cunt that I was back then. I also read in the semi-lighted theater when I waited for a movie to start. I read when I get in line at the ATM.
Right now, a "must" item in my bag is a book, along with my sunglasses (of course!!!), lip balm, alcohol, and olive oil (you'll never know when I'd need some lubrication... lol!).
When I started seriously commuting on the MRT - like on a daily basis, twenty minutes each way - having a book is the perfect way to not get bored. Well, unless there's a cutie in the same coach.
Right now I'm re-reading The Hours by Micheal Cunningham. One time I ran out of books to read so I picked up that said novel from our shelf although I've read it a couple of months back. When I first read it I practically rushed reading a book that is meant to be savored. Cunningham's use of language and tone is impeccable, with long, solid sentences that are very contemplative - and neurotic.
Neurosis is what the book's about in fact. It tells the story of a day in the lives of three women who live in three different periods. One of those women is the literary genius - and famous neurotic - Virginia Woolf while she was writing Mrs. Dalloway. The latter holds all the three characters together as revealed in the book's amazing conclusion. It's indeed a very interesting book and re-reading it allows me to dig deeper into it's subtext while the MRT rocks back and forth, while people step on my toes, while the train wheezes past the massive skeletons of huge billboards.
For the longest time my book of choice while riding the MRT was Becoming a Man: Half a Life Story by Paul Monette. Again, it's re-reading a book I've finished several months previously. Becoming a Man is a memoir of a gay man's struggle with hiding in the closet. It's a very tedious read because the author was obviously severely punishing himself as he tries to repress his sexuality and pass off as straight.
I decided to read it again because it somehow resonates with my earlier experiences (gasp!) and I can't just get over how well-written it is. I love how astutely the Paul Monette conveyed his struggles with cunning use of language. It's also striking how much courage he must've mustered to write about the not-so-pleasant coming out process. The book won a National Book Award for Non-Fiction. The author died of AIDS in 1995.
***
Photo credits:
1) Best Web Buys
2) Micheal Cunningham Writer.com
Monday, November 06, 2006
Recent Watch and Read
I'm beginning to wonder... Is love really about a sense of possession?
"Love is posession". This line appeared in both movies I've seen so far from the 8th Cinemanila International Film Festival last Saturday in Greenbelt 1.
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter... and Spring is a Korean film that is set in a placid lake in the middle of a verdant valley. Nestled in the lake is the floating home of a monk and a kid, the latter is the monk's student. The film explores the relationship of the two main characters (both nameless), particularly how the child learned life's harsh lessons. One of these is about love as a manifestation of possession, a thing that he learned when he fell in love with one of the patients of the monk, with tragic consequences.
The dialogue is very sparse in the film, almost totally silent in a meditative sense. Music is also intermittent. Again, I would talk about a setting that becomes a prominent "character" of the film. With the help of breathtaking cinematography, the viewer is taken into the lives of the monk and the kid through the shifting of the seasons, hence the title. This film is a total must-see.
Following the screening of the aforementioned film, I watched Perhaps Love, which is touted as China's Moulin Rouge. It is supposedly the country's first musical in decade but I would not really call it a musical in contrast to most musical's I've seen. It's more of a movie that happens to have singing parts.
It is actually a movie within a movie, a facet of the film that I'm so tired to explain right now. Well, it's a love triangle starring Takashi Kaneshiro (House of Flying Daggers), Xun Zhou (The Banquet, Balzac and the Chinese Seamstress), and Andy Lau. The musical parts I really find contrite and even intrusive. I like the non-musical parts better and had the film fleshed out that aspect they could've come up with a solid story. In fact, I was captivated with the non-musical parts of the film but would only be disappointed when the characters opened their mouths to sing. Nonetheless, Takashi Kaneshiro and Xun Zhuo were excellent.
***
Ok, let me talk about my weekend.
Friday evening (that's part of the weekend already, is it?) I had dinner with Allyson the Diva at Chocolate Kiss in UP Diliman. In that dinner, we figured that success is entirely about packaging and nothing else. Go figure what that means because I'm still trying to do just that my self.
Saturday was Cinemanila day at Greenbelt 1. Evening I was with Maricel, my kababayan from Surigao, to Temple, along with a few of her friends. It was ok.
Sunday, I was again fixed on my futon reading. This time it was Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs. It is a hilarious read that borders on the gross and even criminal (child abandonment, phedophilia). It's a pretty easy book to read but ultimately forgettable. I heard that they made a movie of this, starring Anette Benning and Gwyneth Paltrow.
***
Photo credits:
(1) Affiches Cinema
(2) www.bzcn.com.cn
(3) Amazon.ca
"Love is posession". This line appeared in both movies I've seen so far from the 8th Cinemanila International Film Festival last Saturday in Greenbelt 1.
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter... and Spring is a Korean film that is set in a placid lake in the middle of a verdant valley. Nestled in the lake is the floating home of a monk and a kid, the latter is the monk's student. The film explores the relationship of the two main characters (both nameless), particularly how the child learned life's harsh lessons. One of these is about love as a manifestation of possession, a thing that he learned when he fell in love with one of the patients of the monk, with tragic consequences.
The dialogue is very sparse in the film, almost totally silent in a meditative sense. Music is also intermittent. Again, I would talk about a setting that becomes a prominent "character" of the film. With the help of breathtaking cinematography, the viewer is taken into the lives of the monk and the kid through the shifting of the seasons, hence the title. This film is a total must-see.
Following the screening of the aforementioned film, I watched Perhaps Love, which is touted as China's Moulin Rouge. It is supposedly the country's first musical in decade but I would not really call it a musical in contrast to most musical's I've seen. It's more of a movie that happens to have singing parts.
It is actually a movie within a movie, a facet of the film that I'm so tired to explain right now. Well, it's a love triangle starring Takashi Kaneshiro (House of Flying Daggers), Xun Zhou (The Banquet, Balzac and the Chinese Seamstress), and Andy Lau. The musical parts I really find contrite and even intrusive. I like the non-musical parts better and had the film fleshed out that aspect they could've come up with a solid story. In fact, I was captivated with the non-musical parts of the film but would only be disappointed when the characters opened their mouths to sing. Nonetheless, Takashi Kaneshiro and Xun Zhuo were excellent.
***
Ok, let me talk about my weekend.
Friday evening (that's part of the weekend already, is it?) I had dinner with Allyson the Diva at Chocolate Kiss in UP Diliman. In that dinner, we figured that success is entirely about packaging and nothing else. Go figure what that means because I'm still trying to do just that my self.
Saturday was Cinemanila day at Greenbelt 1. Evening I was with Maricel, my kababayan from Surigao, to Temple, along with a few of her friends. It was ok.
Sunday, I was again fixed on my futon reading. This time it was Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs. It is a hilarious read that borders on the gross and even criminal (child abandonment, phedophilia). It's a pretty easy book to read but ultimately forgettable. I heard that they made a movie of this, starring Anette Benning and Gwyneth Paltrow.
***
Photo credits:
(1) Affiches Cinema
(2) www.bzcn.com.cn
(3) Amazon.ca
Friday, November 03, 2006
Ten Months
I'm beginning to wonder... Was the risk worth it?
I'm talking about the risk of moving to Manila from Davao. The risk of leaving a relatively good job for so much uncertainty here. The risk of generally leaving my comfort zone to stir things up a bit. And a lot of stirring I got indeed more than ten months since relocating to Manila.
Career wise, things have been pretty ok. Working in a call center for the first six and half months was a terrible blow to my self esteem. In hindsight though I realized that more than anything else it was a very humbling experience. Never again would I underestimate other people's jobs.
For about a month or so I was jobless. I had never been that depressed in my recent life. I felt so worthless. Again, that was a phenomenally humbling period as well.
Which brings me to my finances... argh, I knew it was going to be tough but I never relaized that it was going to be that hard. There were days (especially during my jobless period) that spending a mere P10 has to be thought hard over and over again. Thanks to my sister, she kept me alive during that difficult time.
Which brings me to my relationships. If there's anything more precious about life it has to be our friendships. I already mentioned my sister. There are a number of people who kept my sanity afloat all through these days. Sarah has been an amazing person. Daisy, although based in Davao, has kept me grounded and her moral support is immeasurable. Jules, who I met while working in the call center, was a darling. Of course there are more people who have been there for me. It certainly gives me comfort that I know the right kind of friends. I can't be more lucky.
So back to the main question: has the risk been worth it? Unfortunately I can't make conclusions right now. To begin with, the question might be flawed because there are simply a lot of experiences in life that cannot be measured in terms of costs or benefits. There are opportunities that come our way though that one has to make the most out of. Bow.
Hay, why am I suddenly introspective?
I'm talking about the risk of moving to Manila from Davao. The risk of leaving a relatively good job for so much uncertainty here. The risk of generally leaving my comfort zone to stir things up a bit. And a lot of stirring I got indeed more than ten months since relocating to Manila.
Career wise, things have been pretty ok. Working in a call center for the first six and half months was a terrible blow to my self esteem. In hindsight though I realized that more than anything else it was a very humbling experience. Never again would I underestimate other people's jobs.
For about a month or so I was jobless. I had never been that depressed in my recent life. I felt so worthless. Again, that was a phenomenally humbling period as well.
Which brings me to my finances... argh, I knew it was going to be tough but I never relaized that it was going to be that hard. There were days (especially during my jobless period) that spending a mere P10 has to be thought hard over and over again. Thanks to my sister, she kept me alive during that difficult time.
Which brings me to my relationships. If there's anything more precious about life it has to be our friendships. I already mentioned my sister. There are a number of people who kept my sanity afloat all through these days. Sarah has been an amazing person. Daisy, although based in Davao, has kept me grounded and her moral support is immeasurable. Jules, who I met while working in the call center, was a darling. Of course there are more people who have been there for me. It certainly gives me comfort that I know the right kind of friends. I can't be more lucky.
So back to the main question: has the risk been worth it? Unfortunately I can't make conclusions right now. To begin with, the question might be flawed because there are simply a lot of experiences in life that cannot be measured in terms of costs or benefits. There are opportunities that come our way though that one has to make the most out of. Bow.
Hay, why am I suddenly introspective?
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Candles in the Wind
I'm beginning to wonder... Will boys always be boys?
Having spent the holiday alone yesterday, I was attached to the bed reading Our Guys. I was totally hooked on the book, which is about an account of an actual rape case of a retarded girl by the town's jocks (about six of them). The jocks inserted a broomstick and bat in her vagina. The rape took place in an suburban, upper-middle class, all-white, New Jersey town called Glen Ridge.
More than a crime book, the author successfully analyzes the "jock culture", hence giving these high school athletes a sense of invincibility. The book is a clear illustration of how a community's attitudes towards its teens may breed today's brats and tomorrow's criminals. The second part of the book follows the protracted trial, which further explored class relations (to a certain extent) and the criminal justice system in America. The case eventually concluded with the boys being sentenced, albeit light ones.
It was a totally good read for a book that I found in Evangelista's thrift shops. I got it for P20.
***
After finishing the book, I went down to have some dinner. When I went out of the apartment I saw three lighted candles near the stairs. The candles really spooked the hell out of me. I thought some of the neighbors were doing voodoo stuff. It did not help that the stinking cat was intently looking at the flames. Was that the witch? When I reached the third floor a couple of candles were at the doorstep of one of my neighbors, and the same were found on the second and first floor. I was totally clueless what the candles were all about! As far as I knew, there was no power outage.
Reaching the street, I noticed that the laundry shop at the corner was closed. The internet cafe where rowdy school kids virtually reside was likewise locked. To my dismay, the restaurant where I eat often was close for the day. I said to my self that there must be something going on that I don't know about. First, there were the candles and then there were the closed shops. It's so "end of the world" ang feeling ha. Scary.
Aha, I realized it was All Saints' Day, which was what the holiday was all about! I felt super stupid not realizing that.
Back when I was younger we do not actually make too much fuss about these things. Yes, we visit the graves of my grandparents and some dead relatives, but those were perfunctory and nothing else. The candle lighting outside the house thing is so new to me. It must be a Manila practice because going the cemetery for them can be a lot of inconvenience (traffic, crowds, and all).
I went back to the apartment after dinner at the Chinese restaurant. It began to rain really hard just as I stepped inside. A few minutes later the power went out. I looked around the shelves for candles, found one but the lighter did not work. I was literally left in the dark.
***
Photo courtesy of PaperCuts.
Having spent the holiday alone yesterday, I was attached to the bed reading Our Guys. I was totally hooked on the book, which is about an account of an actual rape case of a retarded girl by the town's jocks (about six of them). The jocks inserted a broomstick and bat in her vagina. The rape took place in an suburban, upper-middle class, all-white, New Jersey town called Glen Ridge.
More than a crime book, the author successfully analyzes the "jock culture", hence giving these high school athletes a sense of invincibility. The book is a clear illustration of how a community's attitudes towards its teens may breed today's brats and tomorrow's criminals. The second part of the book follows the protracted trial, which further explored class relations (to a certain extent) and the criminal justice system in America. The case eventually concluded with the boys being sentenced, albeit light ones.
It was a totally good read for a book that I found in Evangelista's thrift shops. I got it for P20.
***
After finishing the book, I went down to have some dinner. When I went out of the apartment I saw three lighted candles near the stairs. The candles really spooked the hell out of me. I thought some of the neighbors were doing voodoo stuff. It did not help that the stinking cat was intently looking at the flames. Was that the witch? When I reached the third floor a couple of candles were at the doorstep of one of my neighbors, and the same were found on the second and first floor. I was totally clueless what the candles were all about! As far as I knew, there was no power outage.
Reaching the street, I noticed that the laundry shop at the corner was closed. The internet cafe where rowdy school kids virtually reside was likewise locked. To my dismay, the restaurant where I eat often was close for the day. I said to my self that there must be something going on that I don't know about. First, there were the candles and then there were the closed shops. It's so "end of the world" ang feeling ha. Scary.
Aha, I realized it was All Saints' Day, which was what the holiday was all about! I felt super stupid not realizing that.
Back when I was younger we do not actually make too much fuss about these things. Yes, we visit the graves of my grandparents and some dead relatives, but those were perfunctory and nothing else. The candle lighting outside the house thing is so new to me. It must be a Manila practice because going the cemetery for them can be a lot of inconvenience (traffic, crowds, and all).
I went back to the apartment after dinner at the Chinese restaurant. It began to rain really hard just as I stepped inside. A few minutes later the power went out. I looked around the shelves for candles, found one but the lighter did not work. I was literally left in the dark.
***
Photo courtesy of PaperCuts.
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