MEComposing

Still sick!!!

Just when I thought, I was going to be OK... I had another allergic rhinitis attack... which lasted for at least 3 days...

And just when I thought there's relief, finally, in sight... my throat started feeling sore again.

Even no-drowse antihistamines make me feel drugged...

Ergo, I haven't really enjoyed Christmas food :(

*~*

I hope everyone else is having a merry time...

*~*

Let's all pray for those affected by the earthquake that hit South Asia.

*~*

This much I know... if you buy Quail Eggs from the Bus station in Buendia, and started eating them right at the beginning of Star Tollway in Sto. Tomas (Calabarzon), you'd just have enough time to pop the last egg in your mouth when you get to the Lipa Exit of the tollway... that's 6 eggs all in all, methinks :D

I'm too sick, actually...

But not too sick to disappoint my Office and fail to show up for the talent ekek contest... And dance as a Christmas Gift Box onstage. My heroic act was rewarded, and we bagged the 2nd prize.

And I had a great time, yes... :)

*~*

At last, FPJ is buried...

*~*

But my friend John's father isn't... yet... having only died this morning... May I just share a poem shared/offered for him by our friend Laura, originally posted in MTC...

Deep peace on the running wave to you
Deep peace on the flowing air to you
Deep peace on the quiet earth to you
Deep peace of the shining stars to you
Deep peace of the gentle night to you
Moon and stars pour their healing light on you
Deep peace to you
- traditional Gaelic blessing

May nobody else lose a loved one this Christmas season... and may everyone find something to feel grateful for...

*~*

And if it's not too much, please pray my allergic rhinitis cease tormenting me. I'm just so tired of being sick... I'm also real weary of feeling drugged...

... found me sick.

Actually, I wasn't dying, that much I know... but I suspected throat and sinus infection, and true enough, I was proven correct...

by this really cool doctor I found holding office in one of those medical buildings in front of PGH (I don't want to rant anymore about our company's sh!tty health card and how some doctors do not even have the decency to call their office to say WHAT TIME they're actually coming to work, IF ever they really still intend to...)

SO... anyway, he's an ENT who's also a cosmetic surgeon. And he's gay. And he's my first ever gay doctor and he was soooo cool. I just assumed of course that he's gay, despite his muscled 6 feet plus frame... because he was wearing his hair up to his shoulders, and he talks and moves like one. We didn't exactly discuss his sexual orientation.

He was dressed casually, and he invited me to an office with these high, funky, yellow chairs and asked me to sit down. One wall was filled with the usual diplomas and certificates of training, one wall was filled with sketches and black and white tasteful pictures of nude women, and another wall was filled with picture frames (in solid red, blue, green and yellow colors) with photos of him with friends and families in various trips. His walls were painted green and blue. I commented on how nice his office was, particularly the wall with the multitude of pictures from ceiling to floor... and he said he was the one who painted his office.

Aside from his clinic not being typical... he fully explained to my addled brain what I have to do, and why. He also drew pictures of my nose, ears, and throat to point out to me which parts were swollen/infected, which were a-ok, and also gave me a card and encouraged me to text him if what he prescribed wasn't working. He encouraged questions, he assured me I didn't have polyps, etc.

The catch, he charged me Php500. But still, it's seldom that you actually like going to a doctor and you leave him feeling psychologically/emotionally better because he actually made you smile and feel good.

Oh, I have sinusitis, tonsillitis, pharyngitis concomittant with my allergic rhinitis (?). And of course, I was mostly sleeping all weekend.

*~*

I haven't blogged about him really for a loooong time now... Anyway, suffice it to say that he's fast growing up and wreaking more and more havoc in the house, and onto himself. His knees are often scabbed... mainly because he kept on picking on his wounds. He keeps on tripping and falling and bumping everywhere.

But some things haven't changed... we still gather around him a lot, and clap at his accomplishments. He can now say "Ninang", much to my sister's delight. Of course, he also calls his Ninong, Ninang. Same way that he doesn't call any guy Tito, and calls the rest of us Tita. Same way that he calls my Mom, Lola... but cannot call my Dad Lolo. He even calls everyone Mommy, even his Dad. Yes, this boy is being raised by WOMEN.. but he's a boy through and through...

He still likes raiding our closets, and making a mess in our room. He still doesn't really love milk, and doesn't like anything chocolate. He still doesn't know how to properly crawl, even though he already runs very fast. He still insists upon our UNdivided attention... and we're all still quick to come to him whenever we hear him whimper in his sleep. Sigh...


Ang Batang Naglalandi sa Ilalim ng Kulambo

*~*

I was fit enough to go to Mass at least yesterday, and I decided to bring the little tyke with me and JRA. My sister had to come along too, in case Pyro decides to like... need a diaper change.

He loved the fountain at Paco Park. And he discovered that if he babbles a syllable loud enough, he can enjoy an echo inside the Church. I suspect, he just made us SIN by bringing him along, for we couldn't really concentrate on the Mass... what with my sister or JRA having to run outside with him when he's getting TOO DELIGHTED with his echo... and having him keep going back inside the Church once he's outside. He's one-and-a-half... we can't exactly shush him... or prevent him from smiling up at other ladies who would, in turn, find him irresistible.

Heck, even a girl his age started cooing at him happily... and surprisingly enough, that made him quiet.

This is him with his super loving Ninang... later on, he managed to trip two people at Rob Place... none of us got to enjoy our Jollibee dinners (he could identify Jollibee already, mumbling JABI and slapping the statue everytime he can).

Needless to say, he made me vow to bring him along again... when he's already 5 or so. I sometimes wish he'd be the type to just play under tables while we eat our meals... but then again, that wouldn't be PYRO.

*~*

kitakits na lang sa Pinoybloggers' Christmas Party at Cabalen, SM Mega Mall, Dec 30, 7 pm onwards...

Finally, finally, finally...

I've managed to buy everyone in the family (Mom, Dad, Sis, Bro, 2 cousins and 1 maid) a gift, except for Pyro. But JRA (his Ninong) has already bought Pyro this yellow bath robe, and i already bought him 3 sets of pangbahay, and he's literally been taking over all house space so I do not feel guilty that I haven't bought him new toys or what-nots.

I also bought cups for all nieces and nephews closest to me... plastic/melaware (?) ones which can stand the wear and tear kids usually bring upon everything. And of course, I bought them cutie shirts and dresses. Ela asked her Mom for new clothes for her Christmas Party at school, and so her Mom asked me (she and the man who fathered the baby she's carrying right now are both jobless, and my cousin was his typical NR self, though I heard his wife bought Ela new shoes).

I also went to another DIVI trip last Sunday. I was advised that the cheapest toys could be found at the Divisoria Mall... just off Tabora (where you buy souvenir items for debuts, christenings and weddings). I managed to get pretty picture frames for P20 each... already had them wrapped as token gifts for my colleagues (they were already making parinig that if I make cheesecake, they'd really love to be getting one each... because that's what i've done for two years now, with cathedral windows... what can i say, they love my desserts!).

I don't know why, maybe because it's because of the insurance plans and the new phone I intend to buy... but I've never felt soooo poor during Christmas. Thank heavens talaga for DIVI.

I also bought glow sticks (P70 per tube, 50 glow sticks all in all, with connectors in case kids want to wear them as bracelets) and more bubbles (this time, I bought the simple dip-and-blow ones, P25 for 12 bottles). I didn't really buy much but it's just so nice marvelling at how cheap things are over there.

Now, all I need are candies for the goodie bags... my sis and cousins have been pestering me about grocery shopping for the candies so they can pack them already... Oh, maybe tonight...

*~*

Our Christmas tree (a new one) is already laden with lots of balls and bells and flowers and ribbons, all of which, Pyro keeps trying to pull off. He insists on Christmas lights being turned on... even in the middle of the day... and would happily watch the blinking lights while saying over and over.. "WOW!"

Gifts are also already wrapped and nestled under the tree... and now, we're mostly concerned with what to cook for Noche Buena and Christmas Day.

Ate Gang says she'd just cook chicken nuggets instead of the usual fried chicken, esply since i've already managed to find and buy cumin. We'd probably cook carbonara instead of spaghetti.

My sis and I insist that Mom makes hot cocoa and sotanghon soup for Noche Buena, since that's basically what we only eat during those times. My bro eats half of the Christmas ham... so basically, those things are must-haves. Mom has asked me to buy Hershey's chocolate. Hmmpf... I wonder why I gave her gift checks when i'm still the one grocery shopping.

And then, Mom springs a wish on me... that she was kinda hoping we'd just have seafood for Noche Buena... cooked the sweet-spicy way like what we ate at Seaside. She asked me how much crabs and prawns cooked that way would cost... And so now, I gave her till the weekend to decide if she really wants that so we can order (and so I can find money...). Hayy, goodness... and of course, i'd want to give her that for Christmas!!!

*~*

An internet/mountaineer friend's Dad needed blood. 16 bags of blood. Our friends have already gone to Medical City to donate, and I was hoping I could the same this weekend.

I already told them of the uncanny way of events conspiring to never give me the chance to give blood. They said, I should just go to Red Cross, where they'd get blood from me and give me a card, which I can hand over to whoever needs one.

I said, i'd keep that in mind. And I guess, i'd do that in around 6 months time.

Because I friggin' need to take antibiotics again for really infected sinuses and throat.

I hate life...

*~*

For the Pinoys who know of that TIDE (?) commercial wherein a boy says he always gets chosen (to recite, to perform, to solve problems on the board) because of his really clean shirt...

Everytime that commercial is aired...

Pyro would say... "Aka, aka"

Our neighbor Andy would say... "Ato, ato"

Cute!

*~*

What happened to my Christmas Wish List? Nothing yet... howell...

Am poor, am stressed, i'd be broke, i'm sick, i'm sleepy (work hours is now 7 am - 4 pm)... but i'm so looking forward to Christmas!!!

Patay na ANG PANDAY... and the following comments were the things that struck me the most:

1) Naku, for sure, traffic na naman pag libing nyan!
2) Grabe, if he were elected President, magkano kaya ang Piso natin ngayon? Baka P100 na sa biglang kawalan ng confidence from investors.
3) Buti na lang, GMA won... kundi, presidente na si Noli. I-hand daw ba ang presidency sa kanya that easily... (i cringe at the thought)
4) Kawawa naman si Dolphy, malamang depressed na naman... kasi meron na naman umiwan sa kanya...

And the last one... was the one with killer implications (pun intended)

THE GREAT ACTORS ARE ALL A-DYING... and leaving really pathetic ones in showbizness...

Not that Lorna Tolentino, Christopher de Leon, Tomy Abuel and the like aren't good...

But I sometimes cannot help but feel sad indeed...

My fave is CHIQUITO still, and how scared I used to be, watching the Mang Kepweng movies... seeing Piling growing on whoever's back... finding Mang Kepweng funny and fatherly as he chanted to drive away Piling...

The memories are actually hazy... but the feeling his movies gave me are still there. He was an actor I respected...

And then, there's NIDA BLANCA, taken away so violently... She was absolutely goosepimple-inspiring in that movie with Maricel Soriano and JP... up to now, I cannot watch that movie without literally feeling bad for hours... she was that affective as an actress...

And of course, there's IKE LOZADA, who I still remember in the old Dyesebel movie wearing two tails instead of one... that were attached together in the middle...

And PANCHITO, Dolphy's sidekick...

And BABALU, Dolphy's second sidekick... Both men made names in comedy, but both could rend your heart to pieces in drama too...

CHARITO SOLIS... could any face be more beautiful? She's one of those who, despite gaining lots of weight, didn't lose the solid form of her face, that wonderful arch of her brow... those thin lips that could both be mataray or sweet...

And there are really very many more of them who have passed away, retired, or are ridden with sickness, with their death clock ticking away...

It's only really a matter of time for them... for PAQUITO DIAZ and DELY ATAY-ATAYAN...

For GLORIA ROMERO, the original Labanos Beauty, for me, and her elegance

For SUSAN ROCES, who was recently widowed...

And EDDIE GARCIA... the epitome of macho

And of course, DOLPHY, the King of Comedy, who is still singing and dancing at the grand old age of 75+...

He... who gets crippled, not really by old age eating away at his bones... but of the coldness time brings, when old friends and loved ones can no longer warm your heart...

Not that new loves mean nothing, of course...

"You shouldn't have worn shorts."

I was 13 and very much grew up in Manila. I even talk with a slight slang. My Dad got it in his head to show me the ways of Lipa. And because I developed a crush on two of my cousins' friends that March (who knew they were brothers...), April 9 found me tagging after my cousin and some of his friends to the fiesta in Bulaklakan... a barrio near ours.

The year was 1991. Net sprays were still in vogue. Loose Maui shirts and shorts were the things to wear.

And because I was adolescent-pretentious and naive... I was decked in a white shirt with blue sharks on a neon background. Who knew my stupid cousin and his friends would go to the fiesta via the looban, a virtual tangle of trees and roots and trails... a jungle really... but they said, a short cut too.

So, there I was... counting cuts and insect bites... and there he was, the Noel guy, being his corny, noisy self.

And yet, he was making me smile.

*~*

May 1991. Partners for the pagsasaya (basically, the procession where ladies wore gowns, and men wore barongs... as we end the Feast of Flores de Mayo) were being called off, everyone being asked if we already had anything to wear, etc.

Noel kidded the Kapitana... was she calling those who were destined to be married?

I was surprised. He likes Marilyn?

I was more surprised to know I felt a tinge of jealousy. Then again, I was already in a relationship with my first bf then.

*~*

January 1993. Noel took me dancing to a slow song. I teased him about Marilyn getting jealous. He said, she won't be, after all... we're only friends.

*~*

January 1994. Noel whispered to me that he couldn't take me dancing anymore, for his gf, Marilyn, would be breathing down his neck. I assured him I that understood.

*~*

January 1997. Noel's birthday. Noel turned out to be the barkada of my barkada's sister. I've introduced him to my peer group. He invited us to his party.

Allee and I were teasing him incessantly to open our gift to him. He finally gave in, and pretended to grumble about the gift: black briefs with yellow polka dots.

It was too small for him (who knew someone so thin wouldn't fit inside a sized-small pair of briefs) but we had so much laughing at his expense. And he was good-natured enough not to really mind.

We were good friends. And we had fun.

Who knew Marilyn picked a fight with him after we left... about how I was trying to lord it over her that I had a gift for Noel, while she didn't.

Two months after that, they broke up. Marilyn started spreading the rumor that I caused it.

But Noel and I were really just friends, who are brought together by vacations in Lipa.

*~*

March 1997. I went with Noel and his closest friends to spend overnight at the beach. In the morning, I happily beckoned to him to share what was then good news for me: i've already agreed to go to steady with his best friend, Michael. (i know, he wasn't included in the list... he was more of a fling and there are other reasons why)

He suddenly grew pale... and couldn't talk. I was so bubbling with my kalandian, and he excused himself and went out of my room.

Later he told he was shocked. He knew Michael and I were being teased... but he didn't imagine us turning it to something serious.

Much later, he started courting my friend Allee. It was a half-hearted attempt at most.

Around May, Michael and I broke up. And he started getting teased to Marilyn's cousin. And Marilyn and Michelle banded together with other girls and totally made my vacations in Lipa... unhappy.

I asked Noel if Michael was in any way real in love with Michelle. Noel said he doubted it, but Michelle was very persistent. He also told me, he sort of had a tiff with Michael then, because he was asking him to honor his previous relationship with me... and not make it appear to the grand barkada (composing of all adolescents in the barrio, half of whom are vacationers too) that he only used or played with me.

And then, much later... Noel told me he actually cried that day... when I told him I went steady with Michael.

Asked why... he told me that he already really liked me the first time he met me. But he had to step aside because, all too quickly, I was going steady with Zaldy then, his 2nd cousin. And when finally, he was able to break it off with Marilyn (Marilyn had a weak heart, and like every insecure person out there, used that fact to keep Noel in line, knowing how kind he is), he'd suddenly have to step aside again for his best friend.

I don't remember anymore how he told me that... or how we ended that talk.

*~*

2000. Noel called me up to say he's getting married a certain date and asked me to come home to Lipa. I was happy for him because I knew the girl was good to him. But still, I kidded him... "But I thought you loved me, pano na ako nyan?" I was also stupid enough to tease him not to marry that girl and just marry me instead.

There was a pregnant pause and then he said... "Mec, wag, please."

I laughed, asking him if I said anything wrong...

Then he basically told me... asked me... not to make things harder for him. I knew he was struggling with something... but then, he just pleaded some more for me to attend his wedding, and to not make it harder for him.

Turned out, they were expecting their first child already. I told him I was envious because he's going to be a parent now... I also told him I might not be able to go because I had masteral classes that Saturday...

*~*

Day of his wedding... morning... an unregistered number appears in my cell... it was Marilyn, asking me to come home to Lipa and stop Noel from marrying that other woman.

Not only was I flabbergasted that Marilyn, who made life so hard for me, would be making me her ally right now. I just told her, maybe she can talk to Noel... tell him she still really loves him.

Marilyn texted me then that only I can stop Noel from marrying someone else... and that if I don't do that, Noel won't be happy.

All day, she pleaded with me. And at the hour of his wedding, Marilyn told me she's crying and feels that her heart was breaking.

Me... I wondered... what should have I really done?

*~*

Now, Noel is working overseas... and I heard, he cries everytime he cannot go home to his family, and misses them so much. His son is already chasing frogs and running around... and I see them every Noche Buena Mass at the barrio chapel.

I'm happy that he loves his family. And I miss him.

*~*

I don't really know why he suddenly came to mind... I can't even say that he was someone who got away... heck, i don't think I even have a someone who got away. Still, the memories of all the years we hanged out... and the fact that there was something unexplored between us... cannot help but make me smile and feel sad at the same time.

I know, there's a letter somewhere in the boxes under my bed where it was explicitly stated that HE LOVES ME. He loveD me.

I'm not sure if I ever acknowledged the same in me, for him.

And now, because it's really pointless to contemplate... and because we were such good friends that romantic notions as I knew them couldn't exactly fit what we had (then, i couldn't imagine kissing him, but i know i wouldn't mind walking under the rain, wrapped in his arms... i couldn't imagine going on formal dates with him, but know that i can spend days and months with him and have a great time... and yes, now I know better), I cannot even say there are regrets.

He is a great person and a good friend. And back then, who knew that he was also a great possibility.

Was tired and hungry and riding in a jeepney last night...

The guy sitting beside me called my attention because during a traffic lull, he had the temerity to buy dalandan soda in a 7-11 store... so the jeep had to wait for him to get back on, which irritated me because we were already being delayed overmuch by traffic... how dare he further delay us!!!

And so, I was cursing the day he was born when I happened to notice that he just typed the word F*CK in his cell, backlight really illuminating the word...

My curiosity was piqued... I read the entire message he typed...

Wouldn't you know, he was going to make me smile pala...

His message read...

DAMN IS SO TRAFFIC IN HERE

*~*

I've been haunting malls... and bazaars.. I've even gotten my ass over to Market, Market (it's a glorified tiangge type for those scared of Divi... but i love the stalls at the foodcourt selling products from different regions. I mean, the Batangas Booth was selling SINAING NA TULINGAN... arrgghh... how can I not drool? And Number 62 stall at the Gift Market inside the mall sells white chocolate for P6/pc) and the tiangge at Dampa, Libis...

But still, my Christmas shopping isn't done!!!

Arrrggh... How can I go home with just 2 or 3 packages after hours of walking about? And I have yet to buy clothes that fit me... am so tired of sweating in fitting rooms, trying to get inside a dress or a pair of pants... (lolz, the way I talk, you'd think I was Dabiana-like... haaay...)...

Heaven help me, I know I am still all kinds of sexy, but I really wish i'd LOOK it, not just FEEL and THINK it... hmmppff!!!

*~*

I offer a moment of thanks and celebration... for Mama Mary's Immaculate Conception...

And a moment of silence and remembrance... and somehow, grief... for the anniversary of John Lennon's death...

Somebody kept calling and calling and calling and calling us last night at home. Turned out, some girl was harassing my sister. Our maid pretended to be her, and this late-night caller told her to stop fooling and hurting Hal, my sister's boyfriend.

My sis was irritated but she also found it weirdly funny. She wasn't being unfaithful to her boyfriend, but she says she's tired of girls calling her out of the blue, to be rude to her, to plead with her, or to remind her to be good to Hal, or else.

My sis of course texted her boyfriend, trying to pick a fight with him, already blaming him for this unknown girl who KNEW our landline, and who was obviously not anyone she knows.

She gets that a lot, girls calling her boyfriend's cell even while they're attending Mass... girls in love with her boyfriend...

Girls have always been in love with her boyfriends... once, she even had to break up with this yummy guy because the girl he impregnated, a Sta. Isabel achiever, used to abuse her... not that she knew some girl out there was pregnant with her boyfriend's child...

And I kept laughing last night while she told me of the other girls who are still in love with her boyfriend... what a weird thing to have in common.

For I, too, have experienced wives, past girlfriends, feeling girlfriends calling me and trying to abuse me just because the guy they're obssessed with is treating them like shit. Sometimes, I even get really confused because it would seem, some guy had told some girl that he's in a relationship with me... even if I wasn't...

So, for the record, I've only been in a relationship with guys named: Zaldy, Alvin, Vincent, Neil and Jojo (JRA)...ok?

And the only men I really, really loved are named Alvin, Francis and Jojo (JRA) ok? (Not that I didn't shed tears over many... i'm a crybaby!!!)

And goodness gracious, I can't think of a more shameless display of affection. The most stupid thing i've done in the name of love/crush/fleeting fancy... is call a guy up and make him into a phone pal... and that's way back in elementary and high school.

Sure, i'd admit to slum notes and dedication books too... and stalking my crushes, being just in the right place at the right time when they'd be passing by... sure, I went through that awful phase of pretending not to be affected by someone's presence, while also simultaneously getting people (and dancing with guys I don't like) to take pictures of my crush for me... And yes, ok, I admit to stealing their ID pics from the student affairs office...

But again, all those in high school!!!

And now... it's evolved to petty text fights and the cold shoulder treatment.

Was anyone unfaithful to me? YES!!! But I didn't go harassing the girl even if she was blatantly flirting with him right under my nose... I just keep breaking up with the guy. Sure, we'd sometimes get back together... But i've never made a spectacle of myself.

And sure i've been hurt... but if I was going to be irrational, i was mostly irrational with my arguments... with the guy. Actually, at the slightest suspicion that I just might not be wanted, I immediately confront the guy and give him his ticket out. If truth be told, I suspect i've had break ups which weren't planned at all, but I managed to drive them up a wall and they couldn't think anymore of what else to do. They didn't intend or planned a break up... but it happens anyway.

But at least I don't go running after those b!tches who had to find their mates the insecure and bumbling way.

In fact, I don't even get to badmouth them... and I'm the one who got harassed by my replacements. And am just left speechless at times at their audacity... and grand stupidity.

Anyway, yes, am just rambling... but isn't it just really silly and pointless to be confronting someone you're not in a relationship with? And isn't it beyond stupid to NOT be confronting your guy first? And what the hell is your problem if you're not actually this guy's girl... what business is it of yours to be calling up some girl in the middle of the night, just to project to her all your insecurities?

Some girl who, although she may care for the man you're after, would drop him like a hot potato the minute she intuits that he is being unfaithful?

I love my sister... i'd have killed her if she didn't take after me... and became one of those pathetic losers disguised as a woman-in-love...

Pleeeeeeaaassssssseeeeeeee!!!!

In a jeepney on my way to Mass yesterday, I was left quiet... and dumbfounded, as I watched deaf-mutes gabbing away...

It's always like that, I seem to end up quiet too when in the company of people like them... not that it would be a crime to speak... but silence becomes all too sacred for words...

Besides, I love the facial expressions they make as they 'talk' using sign language...

*~*

Speaking of dumbfounded... I was flabbergasted and semi-upset when I found out that 2 of my students wrote the exact same paragraph in what was supposedly their REFLECTION PAPER...

*~*

I prayed for the typhoons' victims and couldn't help but feel lucky... that Manila was spared... and government employees had a day and a half off...

It was another long weekend spent with loved ones and my bed...

*~*

my search has ended
my task fulfilled
my soul, found
and my mind, forever lost
for i have fallen madly in love with her...

Arnold Arre's AFTER EDEN is definitely a MUST READ!!! It's a graphic novel (read: comic book type) and a love story. It's cheesy and geeky and antsy and cynical and hopeful, all at the same time. I also forgive the author for having slightly more space for sweeping generalizations and prejudices against women, but then again, he is a guy.

Still, it's a good read. I especially liked the part about destroying the trust and the romance in a relationship (I cannot be more particular lest I spoil it for you guys).

Thanks to my friend, Jay for giving me a copy...

Last Monday, my cousins, sister and I went to Divi... we braved the pouring rain and semi-flooded streets and got ourselves really wet. But we had fun anyway. I bought 3 blouses, where only one fit me nicely... I bought my sis this white flirty skirt, and we already said we'd borrow the belt that came with it. I bought this Itsumo skirt (for those who don't know, it's this denim, schoolgirl type of skirt with studs and pleats, and which you wear with funky belts) and of course, since I couldn't fit it at the bangketa, I had to find out at home that the belt was actually too small for my hips.

Alas... I am reminded of how, I could never really wear hipster pants and chunky chain belts.

But the trip to Divi was a blast. I can't remember the last time I went there... and because it was Divi, my purchases actually came cheap.

*~*

We didn't know that while we were having fun, and gabbing about Christmas and shopping some more one of these days... that some Tagalog provinces were being ravaged by Winnie.

And it cannot help but sadden me that some 300 people are dead... and the multiplier effect of Winnie's rampage on these provinces will surely bring about depression/demoralization among my countrymen (especially those who lost homes, industries and family members), but also disease for those who are temporarily seeking shelter with other families in schools or local hotels. This would surely affect the price of rice since Nueva Ecija was badly hit. And then of course, the government would have to subsidize these families for a while... and those generous of heart who would donate food and clothing would find that some donations they gave went straight to someone else's house/pockets.

It's sad, when Christmas is really upon us...

*~*

And then I get to thinking, we're still better off than most of Africa... a continent ravaged everyday by AIDS. It's World AIDS Day today, and am sure concerned sectors would be taking a moment to count the lives they've lost to this disease... and am sure, Africans would be the ones mourning the most...

After all, they're already a severely challenged lot... always lacking enough food and water... always subjected to killer bugs and bites... and now, watching those they depend on to rise from poverty and oppression, yound adults who have had some form of education, die alongside their young.... every day...

May hope never leave them... and may charity always find those who can help...

*~*

I bought it in college
loved its design
but then you came into my life
its purpose, you modified

your letters were kept there
all your sketches too
it was what i picked up
when i was missing you

it remained sacred
even after we lost touch
knowing i wasn't losing
nor misplacing your letters
was enough

and while it gathered dust
its contents remained sacrosanct
and even when GOODBYE was decided
and LETTING GO a seeming must
on my bedroom wall, they stayed
i valued you that much

but then, the love affair
has truly ended
and i needed a bigger bag
am now using it for a higher purpose
it now contains my lesson plans

and your letters are now
tucked away in some other box

I have much to learn.

And much to realize.

*~*

I went home last Wed night, with really aching feet...

Seems, climbing 8 flights of stairs then standing for 3 hours... isn't my feet's idea of fun...

But I was told I had this warm and happy glow, and this wonderful twinkle in my eye...

My sister can't wait to hear stories of my lessons... and how my students are. She was surprised to learn though that I still had to write on a BLACKBOARD.

I was surprised to know that even kids in elementary now use WHITEBOARDS during classes, and that their rooms are air-conditioned.

And yes, I was chagrined to know that out of a class of 33, not one owned a computer at home.

Then again, I did say these kids need someone like me because they're already underprivileged as it is...

Now, if only I can finalize that syllabus...

*~*

I'm having bad PMS cravings... I crave carbohydrates... like i've never eaten rice before. I crave nuts and marshmallows... and Mrs. Fields' Rocky Mountain Mogul fills me to satisfaction... but it's P49/pc and I have to be eating at least 2 everyday... and it's getting to be expensive...

I've even started wanting an oven so I can bake my own brownies/fudgies... one with a lot of walnuts and melted mallows...

And am trying to find justifications to buy a Rocky Road cake...

I'm also craving milk... and white chocolate... and the WC I bought at the Bodega Sale yesterday was actually too sweet and had hazel nuts... but I managed to consume half of the block, before I practiced some delayed self-control and kept the other half for tonight...

I'm also craving tuna and oyster sashimi... and seafood... I want to feast on shrimps and crabs and fresh oysters... I want their seafood juices oozing down my hands as I devoured a whole feast of them served fresh, or in sweet-chili sauce...

It's sooo bad, all I can think of is food... and where to get them. Arrggh.... my cravings are killing me...

*~*

I tasted this wonderful corn and potato soup in Sagada and found it really wonderful. I tried to cook it at home and it was an instant hit.

Basically, you sautee onions and GRATED potatoes (use the big-holed graters, you wouldn't want it to be as fine as grated cheese, but this is way better than diced potatoes, i swear) on butter. When they're half-cooked, you just pour in evap milk, corn kernels (if from a can, use the water they were in too), add more water, season with some pepper and salt to taste, simmer... and there you go..

It's creamy, it's healthy, it's filling. And it's best when piping hot... I swear.

1. an 8 megapixel but handy digica, preferably, a canon one...
2. a canon 3ccd digital camcorder
3. a PC upgrade at home, and a photoshop software installed in it, and a hunky tutor to help me learn it
4. unlimited massages/home service by Gloria
5. new clothes, new shoes, more lipsticks
6. a weekend getaway with ____
7. a week's stay in Boracay
8. a week's stay in Florida
9. a trip to Belgium and Switzerland with a sponsored shopping spree of all their choc shops
9. a week's stay in Coron
10. a Donsol trip to watch whales
11. to finally use my handcuffs, and get it videotaped
12. more sex toys
13. a whole slew of new camping/backpacking gear
14. get laid at least 3 times a week
15. get laid for a straight 12 hours each time
16. a new camera phone
17. new funky jewelries in white and rose gold
18. a pamamanhikan
19. around $77 million
20. a condo of my own, and a crv or x-trail (not that i know how to drive or whatever) of my own
21. for my cousin not to name her daughter Maurisha
22. for my family to be healthily complete and present on my wedding, whenever thazt will be, and no matter what happens
23. a lifetime supply of rocky mountain mogul
24. to be ten pounds lighter esply arnd my waist
25. lots of new undies/lingerie/naughty get up

I will be kind enough to forego RANTING on how un-professional some members of the Academe can be...

And just say THANK YOU to all those who knew and rooted for me...

I just know I will be good in it... not that I won't commit mistake/boo-boos and not that I won't learn as I go along... the merry-unhappy way of imparting knowledge and a sense of inspiration to actually live...

Esply since, as if I could be doing it for the extra money... I mean, what money?

I start tonight...

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The weirdest thing... early Monday morning, I was having a bad dream.

In the dream, my friend (Fuz) and I together with another guy got off this cab, only the cab was black in the dream, and without the usual markings of a taxi cab. My friend managed to get his hand caught in the door... and the cab was fast running away. The other guy with us kept on running and knocking on the driver's door, signalling that my friend was trapped. I was just standing there, watching him getting dragged. But the driver refused to stop somehow...

Finally, the cabbie stopped and went out. My friend was able to set himself free and they of course, were too angry to manage self-control. They went after the driver, and the driver tried to get away. I then snatched the keys and the cab's engine died down.

It was a bad dream because the scene where my friend was being dragged kept replaying... and since he's so dear to me, I couldn't help but be horrified.

Then I woke up. And I wondered what time it was. And then I heard someone miscalling me from my cell. And after a minute or two, my alarm set for 4:00 AM woke the rest of my roommates up.

I checked my cell... and the one who was calling was the one I was dreaming of. Seems he was asleep and then woke up. And then he just decided to make paramdam.

Weird.

Wonder if this was a super delayed reaction of my unconscious to the fact that I saw an FX hit a little boy last Friday... and a van hit a dog last Saturday. Still, it was too much of a coincidence... it was creepy.

*~*

Something that can only happen to me...

I found out I only had some P170 left in my wallet while we were at Baguio. Guess I binged on choco flakes and pomelo-buying, I lost track of my wallet's contents. I tried withdrawing money, only to have P2,000 debited from my account.

Of course I was maddeningly upset... I still had to buy dinner and i'd need money for taxi fare from Pasay-Edsa. I bought some food from Jollibee... only to hit a WET PAINT sign on SM Baguio's lawn. I came crashing down on the grass, and down on my food. I even managed to destroy the sign, and get several bruises on my legs and feet... enough for me to find myself limping until today. My left foot also swelled some.

To think I managed to come back from my Sagada Trip safe and bruise-free.

I found myself dining on a cheesedog sandwich instead... while silent tears threatened to bring me to a breakdown. I mean... at that last hour in Baguio, I managed to trip several times and feel oh-so-poor... haaayyy... it was crazy!

I even had to swallow my pride and take up JRA's offer to fetch me. Fetch me he did... with matching hot water bottles for my foot... and hot soup and siopao for my stomach.

He urged me to borrow money earlier from my mountaineer friends... but am one arrogant, full-of-pride b!tch, he also knew I wouldn't. And he spent more than an hour worrying over how hungry I possibly was...

He's sweet... I know... am tickled pink!

*~*

Pyro refuses to play with anything else except Jack jack, this wind-up toy from McDo Happy Meals... and it's supposed to be MINE. Sigh... my baby is fast growing up... soon, i'd be competing for white chocolates with him, I just know it.

Please pray for Prana Escalante, who was missing for over two weeks and then found dead early this morning by Mangyan natives. My other sentiments on the matter can be read here.

*~*

Please also try to watch Magpakailanman tonight... the episode will tackle my elementary/high school friend Anton's life story.

He used to say he had a crush on my hair back in Grade 6, when I wore it curly (who knew that fast forward to 3 more years, he'd have a crush on my JS prom date?). He was also the one who sang the Lord's Prayer in that Mass after we won the EDSA Revolution. :)

*~*

I am uninspired to really post... aside from going crazy balancing my finances (we already got our Christmas bonuses), I find that I still don't have enough to pay all my bills (insurance plans mostly), loans (from that trip I took last June) and buy myself a brand new cellphone. Sigh.

I'm all kinds of horny though, so it must mean I'm happy despite feeling the economic crunch on my pockets.

I'm all kinds of excited too... for tomorrow, I go to Sagada with friends. Please pray for a safe journey, and good weather. Please also leave your e-mail addies in the comment box if you want to view the pictures i'd be taking. Ahehehe... But of course, i'd document that trip in my camping blog. I'm just excited because the weather there is soooo nippy... and because i'd get to see Sumaguing Cave sans the Holy Week crowd... and because I have a better digicam now than the first time I went there. And yes, I know, am babbling...

Life is good... and yes, I do need cash.

*~*

Malls are teeming with shoppers already, and I hate crowds. I can only tolerate crowds in concerts... and maybe, rallies.

perhaps borne from a need to not dwell on our friend's loss, and help cheer her up... or just an inherent inability to be sad and sober (my friend actually relished all the times we made her laugh last night, and told us she knows her husband was with us, and enjoying the freaky sh!t we keep coming up with) for the whole time we're together in one place...

my widowed friend asked our White Bird-owner friend to come up with a price list for the men in our gang...

you can just imagine the wealth of info and the tons of laughter her professional and objective assessment we got/had...

other general things i can share with you:
1) guys who have tummies and have lotsa body/facial hair can still sell well... as long as they're mestizo
2) moreno guys would have to dance on stage, to attract more clients. and really moreno guys would have to bare all just to attract clients (it seems GROs, matronas and gay clients favor mestizos); one other thing, these guys are the ones who roam the area, and these guys are the ones who get handbags hung from their... err.. uhmm.. poles (nyahaha... i can't exactly blush, sigh)
3) the young and good-looking ones need not dance on stage anymore, and their drinks are more expensive, because their market value is high...
4) the really good-looking ones who are young get to wear the ala-Mulawin White Bird costume
5) a guy can earn up to Php30k, working only for some 15 nights, just dancing and drinking/flirting/making small talk with clients in the bar (please note, they are GROs and not pros)
6) female GROs from neighboring bars go to White Bird to spend the money they get from clients

My guy pal, aware of the going rate for pros and GROs retaliated with his own estimates for us girls...

Here's mine... ahehehe

deli - the prima dona in bed. likes to be pampered, served and serves it up as well. wants it rough, but usually slow and easy with lots of panting and huge energy expenditure. marathoners and triathletes most defintely welcome.

exotic dancer (but available for take out after her set to lessen her energy level) - 1,500.00 an hour minimum 6 hour engagement - hourly rate is low because of high minimum time booking.

LABEEEETTTTTTTTT!!!!!

I've discovered two blogs. One was of a former friend... the one who didn't think to confront me with why she suddenly cut me off from her life and allowed me to explain, defend or apologize.

And the other one is of a former love/lover/friend. The one I tried waiting for to come around for like two years before I decided to just let him be.

And they're both doing well... Honestly, I actually worried about them. But they're both doing well and seem happy... and I think I can finally let go of the remaining vestiges of concern for them. Of course, i'd forever want only the good things for them because in my heart of hearts, i'd forever love them both for all the times we were friends. It's just nice not to fret about them anymore... :)

*~*

Friends... please say a prayer for a man named Clancy who joined our Maker last night. There was not enough time to really know him, but it's enough that he loved my friend and embraced her family.

I cannot imagine how trying this must be for my friend, and I cannot help but wonder how she can take time out to thank her friends for all the prayers and moral support we offered for them... I cannot imagine the pain she's in right now... and so, please also say a silent prayer for her... that she may find peace and continue to love.

(there are no words to also say how this has been badly affecting me, what issues it has raised for me... in me... but the long and short of it all remains to be... that life is short, and time is all we have to give to those we love)

I didn't get to take a decent picture of the DUYAN (hammock) in my Dad's house...one he bought in Bicol for only P150 that's made from abaca...

But lulling Pyro to sleep there for 3 days, and swinging it for my sister and nephew... and just lying there every chance I get (while eating Snickers, Milky Way, Musketeers and White Chocolates... and ice cream... and champorado... and ginataang saging... and goto... or just drinking milk or chocolate...) brought back sweet memories of childhood... where a similar hammock would be found in my Lola's porch... or where younger cousins would be sleeping while I helped watch over them...

It was pure bliss :)

Anyway, we indeed found ourselves going to San Juan, Batangas for a quick swim. My Dad came along with my cousins and me because he's never been there before. And amazed he was at how clean and deserted the beach was... he kept singing while he was swimming. He also kept telling me that apart from us, he loved the sea the most. After all, he was a seaman for around 20 years, and he vows to forever appreciate how the sea has been kind to us.

He tried teaching Bonita to swim... again, a delightful thing for me to watch because I feel am watching him play father to me when I was younger. It's like being put in a time warp where generations and faces and time overlap... and all that's left is this warm, fuzzy feeling of happiness and contentment... and this awareness that love is in the air. Yeah, mushy me...

Mom, who decided to stay at home because she's superstitious and didn't want the whole family to be together in the same car, surprised us by cooking spaghetti. We bought ice cream as a treat for the kids and spent the rest of the afternoon prying fighting kids from each other, wiping mouths and noses and praying they'd learn to share the hammock... ASAP.

My cousin Jim and I were born 2 weeks apart... and had so many pictures taken together as we grew up. We're usually both crying in said pictures because he's just pinched me, and because I just poked his ribs. Anyway, not that I scanned any of our pics... but... Bryant and Bonita (Jim's eldest) are also always after each other's throats, born several months apart, but also share the same passion for ice cream.



We went to the cemetery Sunday afternoon and Monday morning... each time forgetting to bring enough candles for all our dead. The thing with a barrio cemetery is, your ancestors are all buried there, most of them wizened, wrinkled faces from your childhood that actually used to scare you... They're planning to have my lolo's niche tiled so that we won't have to have it painted each year... and the roof cemented.


Dad drove us to the cemetery in our car... and Mom was so nervous she was gripping the seat. She said, warmth only returned to her feet after we've returned safely home.

And while they whiled away Sunday night belching out oldies, I took a pic of my tired, happy self in my Lipa bed... for obviously, being the designated photographer meant that I would be missing in the pictures...



Pyro took a bath (finally) again last Sunday... basically because my Mom (finally) allowed it. Here, he is playing with his Nemo... but we're really trying to wean him away from stuffed toys since sucking on their noses and ears and tails keep resulting to a throat infection for him... Glad that he's fully recovered from his rashes too, and has learned a new set of tricks and stuff over the weeekend. It was also great seeing him line up with the kids to be fed spaghetti... it's official, competition for food and attention will make a child eat, if nothing else.

Can't wait to dress him up for Christmas...

First... let me say some things to the dead people in my life... according to who finished his life's purpose first...

Shella, died before turning 1 None of your siblings are visiting your grave this year, and yes, sometimes they tend to forget you sometimes. You can't really blame them... none of them really knew you. But I know you're watching over your twin... and I know she longs for you. And I still think of the way you looked at me that day I left you at the hospital... wondering if you were silently asking me to stay... or silently saying goodbye. I'd always, always love you...

Kuya Jerry, died because he intervened when his friend was being sliced up in a fight Ate Gang misses you, a lot. She's always saying that had you been alive, your siblings would be living better lives... and you'd be able to exact some control from them. Ate Gang gets tired sometimes by picking up after your siblings' bad decisions... but she loves your nieces and nephews very much. By the way, Sarah is due to have another baby soon... and am sure you already know that. I hope you'd just watch them for us, especially when Ate Gang cannot...

Papay, who died from kidney problems and prostate cancer We still talk of how you visited Ate Veron after your death... and of how Tin and Rez were throwing stones at your coffin, unaware in their young age of all the implications of that wooden box the rest of the family watched over during the days of your wake. We still laugh nervously at how, left alone in our homes, our fridge door kept opening, and we kept smelling of candles. You should see Bitoy, how he's the spitting image of Tito Abe. And please watch over Tito Abe, more than root for his health, please help him realize instead that he's led a selfish, purposeless life.

Mamay, who suffered a stroke while we were sleeping I don't know what to say... it's you I miss the most. In my own way, and because I only had good memories of you, I still feel closer to you than Mom. I still miss your cooking... I still devour every bit of story of my childhood because you were there. I'm still proud that we fell off that sea wall because everybody knew they found me wailing on top of you... that you alone hit the rocks... and I think i really would forever feel suffused by your warmth and love. I find it hard telling stories of you to Rez and Tin (who is the spitting image of you by the way) because words will never make them see what you represented for me... or how rich my childhood has been because I knew you. I just really hope you'd be watching over me when I walk down the aisle someday... I think i'd really want your presence there... and I silently wish that Mom would live with me someday just before and just after I give birth... to take care of me and my baby... like you did for all the grandchildren you had...

Lolo Tino, who didn't wake anymore from being run over... by a tricycle at that... one Friday morning he was going to Quiapo to attend Mass Lolo... please watch over Tito Jose. If he joins you soon, I hope the process won't give him much pain. He's been through enough. On a happier note, I'm sure you're happy with the fact that all your children are still loving and supporting each other... We miss how you're always in the Philippines during Christmas and Fiesta... We miss how you always dance with the majorettes... We miss how you lived life to the fullest... but you're with your Maker now, and am sure you're happiest there...

Tito Gerundio, died from too much drinking Don't worry Tito, Ate Gang is making a good job of taking care of your brood... just watch over Sarah who lives far away, ok? I cannot help but wish, I knew you more. Just last weekend we had liswik, and I missed your cooking.

Ate Ene, died from bone cancer You have been such an inspiration... and a standard of excellence. And because of you, I got a glimpse of a world filled with cancer... a world that was also filled with hope, love, gratitude and celebration. Your cathedral windows would always be the best, and i thank you for passing on the legacy of making it. Your bestfriend, Ate Violy, remains to be such a good and thoughtful person. You must miss her sometimes. And yes, I always remember you when I see pineapples and jackfruit...

Mang Ver, who died from a stroke Hopefully, your family is faring well... we didn't know you owned a vintage car... Anyway, I still think of you most times during merienda time... especially when I see corn being sold. It was a privilege sharing with you all those snacks...

I honestly do not believe that I need to pray for their souls, for I trust that they are more at peace now... I worry more for those they left behind...

Weirdly enough, I didn't know i'd still cry over my maternal grandmother... and I believe she'd have been real proud of who I turned out to be...
*~*

On a happier note, aside from the trip to the cemetery that's part and parcel of Halloween in Lipa... am also giddy with happiness because we're going to go to Laiya, San Juan tomorrow. It's just the immediate family going for a quick swim but it's nice to be going with them... it's going to be Pyro's first trip to the beach (and no, we don't intend for him to play in the water, we just want him to be outdoors for awhile)... and it's going to be the first trip we're taking in my Dad's car.

And of course, i bloody miss the beach. I feel it's pointless to live in the Philippines without regular trips to the beach!

I typed a 2-page letter using 8.5" x 13" paper and 10.5 Century Gothic font style... to my brother. Because we had a fight. Because he was being a jerk. Because he was picking on my sister (his sister too, yes.. ahehe). Because he was overreacting to Pyro's illness. How did I deduce that he was overreacting? Well, after repatedly telling him the child had tigdas over the phone and thru sms, he came home upset that we didn't call him from the pedia's office (not Pyro's since-birth pedia), an instruction I wasn't aware of, and started verbally abusing my sister... and then climbed the stairs with a, "Mamamatay na lang ang anak ko, hindi ko pa alam" (rough translation: My child is going to die and I don't even know it... basically implying that we're taking away his right as father to know what's happening to his child... oh, actually, he said that too)

Having been someone who doesn't back down when someone is being unreasonable, and in this case, having texted him twice already after getting back from the pedia, and honestly feeling he's overreacting because the child who's sick is actually already playing and babbling "Wow" over and over (and wasn't exactly the first baby to ever get sick... and having our Mother there who saw all of us suffer from the same viral disease). I told him he WAS overreacting.

I think there were at least 3 times he almost really hit me. Really close calls as he was looming in front of me from where am sitting... even having the audacity to sort of tell me that one more word from me and he'd really hit me... only stopped by my sister (who was carrying Pyro)and my Mom... all of which, of course, made me madder...

Family quarrels would often seem petty to the outside world. The dynamics governing each relationship however is usually so complicated and layered and sometimes so full of hidden agendas.

I know that aside from believing he's disrespectful and inconsiderate and ungrateful to my sister and cousin, who have been generally in-charge of taking care of Pyro... I also find it distasteful that he is displacing his weaknesses and fears to his son.

And I can only guess what issues he has with me... although i was really surprised why he'd suddenly keep saying that all I want is money... as in, where did that come from? Heck, he even threw the entire contents of his wallet at me. Sadly, it wasn't enough to buy myself a new cellphone. And even sadder, my Mom got the money back. Anyway, he's warped, and I worry for my nephew.

But the thing that hurt me the most and has really been exhausting me is the fact that whenever I disapprove of what my brother does (and it's kinda hard to turn a blind eye to them when we're living in the same house, and we're the ones being inconvenienced), I just hate my Mother all the more. Last night, I lashed out at my Mom again... telling her that she was the one who raised such an ungrateful, irresponsible jerk! (I wanted to call him a sonofab!tch... but my Mom, with all her equally-warped notions of raising a son, isn't a b!tch)

Of course, Mom reminded me that she raised all of us. And then i reminded her that I have made infinitely better choices than the son she spoiled. I was even gearing to remind her too that I have yet to send her to the hospital... something my wonderful brother did without remorse... and without cbaracter-improvement. But my brother came back down and we fought some more.

Thus, the long letter to him. A letter not apologizing for anything, but explaining what really happened, and demanding from him some appreciation and gratefulness, not for me, but for my sister and cousin who were more hands-on with Pyro. A letter that also warned him that I will not tolerate any further disrespect and abuse of the two. A letter that also told him that eventhough Pyro is kin, he SHOULD be grateful (how does one translate "tumanaw ng utang na loob" anyway? my jerk of a brother explicitly even stated that he need not do any such thing by virtue of Pyro being our nephew).

My chest still feels heavy... burdened. After having written the letter, and this, and after crying my brains out till past 2... I am not yet at peace with what happened. And i think it's really because i'm tired of being angry with my parents... and yet, the child or human in me still cannot understand why they still continue enabling their son to be the jerk he is...

And at the back part of my mind, I worry... that I might react to all this by being too hard on my future son/s.

*~*

I also know I should watch it, lest my brother really lose control and hit me. And of course, at some remote recess of my brain, there is fear that he might deform my face or something. But seeing that I also know I should watch it, because sometimes hate for him feels just so raw, I know i could drive a knife into him in the heat of A moment (this last sentence suddenly reminds me of a parents-reading-my-diary episode, where they tried making me feel guilty for wishing them dead... back when I found them hateful as a teen... and people might even get shocked at the intensity of the hate... but what the heck).

Still, my greater fear and worry is... IF my brother and I have a go at each other... what will my parents do?

*~*

Was browsing a medical book last night, reading on Roseola and taking comfort in the fact that it isn't Measles... and wondering if I had German measles already, and thinking I should get it now lest I get it when am pregnant someday... yada, yada, yada... yes, generally getting paranoid...

Then my sister comments... that when she's depressed and feeling bad, she just goes through that book of medical problems and gets cured... for she cannot help but feel lucky and blessed that she didn't have any of those diseases... and no one in the family is really sick...

the nurturing challenge
QUESTION: how many people does it require to take care of a sick child?
ANSWER: if you're Pyro, it will require the whole household!

I already knew Pyro was sick last Friday. He got better Saturday morning, and then got real bad Saturday afternoon. Which made us oh-so-concerned that I brought him to a pediatrician with my sister.

I kept having to ask my sister what vitamins Pyro were taking, her milk, etc. We forgot to bring his baby book for his medical history. Anyway, he was prescribed paracetamol and antibiotics for another throat infection (his 3rd). Of course, our baby was crying like hell at the clinic, and we had to suffer his tears just to make him take his medicine. After all, he can't get better without them.

But it was a real struggle... different people had different tasks... one would have to carry him, one would have to distract him, one would have to try feeding him crackers (my sis kept telling me that i can just feed him the crackers without treating them like a jet crashing into my nephew's mouth... and definitely without the wardance i do as I make the engine noises... but Pyro refuses to open his mouth without the engine sounds and the dancing, i swear!), one would have to wipe his nose, tears and other bodily fluids, one would have to remain loving and assuring as Pyro vomits on her, etc. My sister and cousin are both Nursing students but, of course, they couldn't act professionally cold with the tyke.

Of course, he's really lucky to have so many watch over him. He's very lucky that my sister would patiently lull him and comfort him and carry him and dance with him for hours because he refuses to cling like a monkey to anyone else. He's very lucky that i love him so much I allowed him to use my right arm as a hotdog-pillow he can embrace while sleeping... resulting in this dead feeling for my arm, and a trapped feeling for my psyche (i soo hate restrictions). He's very lucky that so many are concerned, and even my Dad in the province kept checking up on him.

I just wish his Dad won't make things harder by not even trying smarter to make him take his medicine. I mean, seriously, to heck with the baby's tears, shouldn't he be more concerned that Pyro is missing dosages that might only aggravate the infection?

Still, I hope he'd get well soon. We miss the laughing baby we love so much.

the gastronomic challenge
A Filipino loves to eat. In fact, we've made it almost impossible to go hungry at any time of day here (unless you're really dirt-poor ok?). Even in major roads, vendors will be plying their wares of chips and water for those stuck in traffic.

Part of the Filipino hospitality is having your guests eat. We love to go the distance for people's gastronomic happiness... and feel we've only succeeded in really being good hosts after hearing that burp, that sigh of contentment, and that comment that he's full and the food was great.

But pray tell, how do you feed an Israeli Jew, who says he isn't vegetarian per se, just restricted by his religion on what things he could eat?. What's more, he's the type of Jew who not only doesn't eat anything that came from animals (even fish/seafood), he also foregoes certain types of vegetables...

Thank goodness, he eats bananas and drinks pineapple juice and SMB :D

But... wait, add a Buddhist in the equation please, yes, someone who cannot eat beef... oh and yeah, someone who would only have Coke for lunch and a can of juice for merienda. Upon further inquiry, this Malaysian also finds Pinoy food SWEET... and considers it a great departure from his usual fare of spicy stuff.

Tsk,tsk.

And yes, there's another one in the band... JRA and I racked our brains out for vegetarian places that are porkless, because we also have a Muslim guest. And of course, we'd only find out right before lunch that it's still Ramadan and therefore, he won't be having even one drop of water until 6 pm...

Right.

At least, it was ok for us Pinoys to eat wherever we wanted, and ended up lunching at Pancake House while our foreigner friends hung outside.

Dinner was at Kashmir, where JRA and his colleagues felt adventurous enough to order this Indian Drink (LASI: a yogurt, sweet/salty drink) their Malaysian GM was drinking. The consensus? It tasted like rotten milk, or infant vomit, whichever was worse.

Me, I ate 2 pieces of this roasted-chicken that's spicy but actually tastes great with calamansi. And some rice, and some pita/crust-like garlic bread. And before even arriving back home, the skin on my tummy showed allergic reactions... and yes, am still itchy...

the photography challenge
Sadly, Tagaytay ain't pretty anymore. We went to People's Park in the sky, and it was just not pretty anymore. Houses dotting the view ain't pretty. The heat of the sun and the humid clime and the smell of piss and the trash everywhere... it's just not pretty anymore.

Missed climbing all over again. The pic here is the best I've taken so far from the ill-advised trip.







the future motherhood challenge
While eating at Kashmir, a big group of Indians went in with us. JRA was teasing me about the possibility of them smelling bad (no offense meant to any Indians, Pakistanis, etc who reads this blog), and how the incense-sort smoke inside the resto was for that purpose... because we both get migraines really from strong body odor. Anyway... the group was composed of some 5 or so couples with their kids and were seated next to our table.

I already noticed that a Mom was taking her time in making the milk for her crying baby. I already noticed that because she wasn't hurried by her baby's cries, she wasn't spilling any milk either. That made me smile.

Then later on during the meal, a toddler started crying. An older child started leading him back to their table. The child's mother was just silently waiting for them. To my shock tho (it was too strong for the word "surprise"), none of the other adults were paying attention to that crying child! The child quieted down soon enough without the mother having to carry him.

I pointed this observation to JRA, and he said he thinks that could be the reason why the Indians are the best call center agents, because they know how to not overly react to what's happening (irate callers blandishing curses) and just do their necessary tasks (provide technical support to consumers who, most often than not,just didn't read the f*ckin' instructions).

I was amazed... and challenged!!! In a typical Filipino setting in malls and Churches or other public places, a crying child would have elicited every parent within hearing zone to look up, and semi-rush or think of running to the site, wondering if they can do anything. In a party of relatives, the child would have been picked up the nearest adult/elder and hush-shushed even before the child reaches his own parent. He'd have been comforted and promised the world and distracted and given a toy/bottle.

But all that isn't always necessary. And I hope i'd have the grace to not be the typical Pinay mother someday. I'd want my kids to not cry THAT loud, and to know that they can STOP crying (unless really, really hurt), and not throw tantrums and basically not grow up equating excited comforting with true loving.

I'd want to be warm, but I don't want to create wrong illusions of caring.

> Cool water (as opposed to cold) down my throat when I’m sweaty from a walk, or climb, or the day is just too humid.
> Softdrinks or halo-halo during or immediately after a climb, the sugar rush does wonders to my exhausted body.
> Finally being able to sit down after walking around a mall or park or up a mountain
> Cakes… as in Becky’s Kitchen cakes (choco mousse or potato almond krunch) and Choco Heaven cake from Pancake House… or Red Ribbon and Figaro’s Choco Caramel Cake… or Red Ribbon’s Rocky Road cake… or Goldilocks’ Capuccino Mousse
> White Chocolate… sadly they don’t sell/make my real fave DOVE… and Cadbury Dream Eggs are only sold in Singapore (as far as I know) while White Maltesers are sold in HK
> Ice cream… as in Cappuccino or Coffee Crumble or that old Café Rico… or Mocca and Vanilla… or Banana Splits
> Really fresh tuna sashimi and fresher oysters seasoned with soy sauce and calamansi
> Dulcinea’s carbonara
> Hizon’s Prawns in Butter & Garlic Sauce
> Ma Mon Luk’s siopao (asado) and Mami (beef)
> Max’s Sinigang na Tyan ng Bangus
> Sinampalukang Manok at Sogo (though I don’t get to enjoy it anymore)
> Shrimps and crab in sweet chilli sauce at Seaside
> My nephew’s smell after taking a bath (I’m telling you guys, J&J’s Bedtime Bath and Lotion are the best!)
> A baby’s kiss on my cheeks
> Putting on lotion after a bath (J&J Bedtime Lotion, Alyssa Ashley in White Musk)
> Using vanilla or J&J Bedtime bath shower gels
> A long and luxurious hot bath
> The feel of the warm ocean on my toes
> New panties
> New sheets
> Staying/Keeping warm in bed on cold or rainy mornings
> Rain on my face
> A really good massage (please refer to Gloria)
> A cold shower on a hot day
> Meme (caresses) on my back especially my butt.
> The feel of ice on my nipples
> The feel of a hot body on my palm (have you guys noticed how that area just past your tummy and just above your groin gets really HOT sometimes when you’re really, really aroused?)
> A tongue down my spine
> Trailing my nips along the length of a man’s back

*~*

dang am horny...

I accidentally deleted my template... grrr... and I just spent all morning looking for a new template vefore realizing i had a copy of its draft somewhere...

need to friggin' update the links and trouble-shoot again how i can make headings for links a diff color and size tho...

If there was ever a time or if there ever were moments in my life that i could have possibly questioned the existence of a God, or a Higher Power... or actually doubted that He does exist... or even believed that there just simply isn't a greater Life Force operating in the world...

If there was ever a time I didnt believe in love and goodness...

Then, i'm glad to know that I am finally enlightened. I look at Pyro and his growth in beauty, and I just tell myself... "How can there not be a God?"

*~*

Please pray for a recently-married friend of mine... who found weeks after that her husband has liver cancer.

*~*

may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it's sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young

and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there's never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile

- e. e. cummings

Really... hasn't anyone told the singers of today that doing revivals do not bode well for their career... and suggests a certain lack of talent?

execpt for THE COMPANY, of course.

And can anyone please tell that Shereen (?) girl that her voice is matining which makes a lot of songs not meant to be sung by her?

*~*

I've always known i'd have a problem with it... and because of an article I read in some old Metro mag, I can't help but dwell on it again.

I grew up in an apartment-style house, but we owned that apartment and the one beside it. In fact, we could have owned the whole compound had my Mom had the tenacity and viciousness to be inconsiderate of the other families who were renting the other apartments.

I studied in private Catholic schools growing up. Sure, I made the choice to study in PNU in college to help ease my Mom's tuition woes (not that I still don't feel shortchanged somehow that both my siblings got to study in private schools requiring exorbitant fees for working computers, air-conditioned classrooms and a generally more conducive for learning environment... to think I was the BRIGHT one) but I also never had to worry where to get money for tuition or books. Not that my Mom didn't make me bleed first before handing over the money... or that I never felt resentful that she has to scold me about money time and again when I was really doing well in school (and yes, i know i skipped a lot of classes in college for hanging out at Paco Park or in malls... but i still graduated cum laude... and surely my parents can be content with that?)...

We also didn't grow up eating at Jollibee, or owning the latest Barbie dolls and toys... but we always had food on the table... and we always had milk... and we never had to go to school without an allowance.

Sure, we had to suffer old bags and extended uniforms but we always got Christmas gifts, and we always had parties thrown for our birthdays.

In short, I never felt poor until now (you know, when am finally earning and my salary cannot keep up with my expenses). I never felt insecure. I never really had to suffer the shame of being called by the teacher come exams time, not allowed to take the exams because I haven't yet paid my tuition fees. I never had to miss a field trip, or a school dance. I always had books to read. We've always had a TV and a telephone. We never had to be kicked out of the house. Heck, we never had to deal with parents in prison or anything like that.

In shorter still, I had a nice life.

And even when I was younger, i've always valued the sacrifice of what took my parents to where they are now... or where they were then... a position of being able to not only provide for us, but also help out their siblings and their siblings' families.

Which is why, no matter how indifferent I felt they were to me and my needs, or angry I was with them and the world... I always took my education seriously. I wanted to be someone who wouldn't waste their sacrifice. I also wanted to be someone who can afford things when I grow up, because I don't want my kids going thru hell because they had the misfortune to have irresponsible parents.

The thing is, because I had a nice life, the challenge became a twisted fear of not being able to find a partner who basically has the same goal. My friends have always teased me about having security issues, and I know that i've always told a prospective husband that I never want to have to worry where i'd get money to buy food for the table... or for the children's education...

And basically, it's just me wanting to continue having a nice life...

And it's kinda complicated by the silent wish to be a full-time mother as well. For that is indeed putting pressure on my future mate to be the sole provider... in this hard and funny-desperate times.

I am aware that there are a lot of sacrifices and compromises in store for me once I get married, financially. And I think that is mostly why I am still single and unmarried at age 27. I just really hope and pray that i'd have the grace to find a lot of things with my future husband/family NICE...

And that my kids will feel as secure and stable as I felt...

*~*

Did you know that the going rate for pre-school education for kids 3 years old and up is some Php20k already?

And what's even twistedly funny is, they mostly have play time and video-watching time during class hours? And that they teach twisting paper and folding table napkins in pre-school? Something about dexterity to prepare the kids to write.

And that pre-school is BIG on EQ and EQ-related activities?

And the training modules are usually patented, imitated, copied, simulated, etc from schools all over the US and Europe?

And ok, yes, it's really kinda cute having your kid out of the house for a while, and then arrive jumping with pride at the stars stamped on his arms, implying either good behavior, or excellent workmanship (either in cutting paper, coloring books or following a dance step)...

Still, isn't pre-school just a tad overrated and expensive?

And i question the premise of learning to fold table napkins to prepare the child for greater things... because from what I heard, kids now are supposedly smarter, so surely, if they can operate computer consoles and remote controls, they can also learn to write? And goodness, we all learned to write w/o having to crumple and shred paper! It's just plain stupid... but of course, I can't really NOT send my kids to pre-school now, since most regular schools require at least 3 years preparation.

And I also cannot help observing that... schools don't seem at all to be doing a good job in making or keeping these kids happy. I'm reading more and more reports that children nowadays are usually already depressed when they reach the age of 10... and are usually also BORED starting age four, onwards...

Heck... am even reading more and more suicides by younger kids...

Basketball camp is ok to help your kids release some of their angst... but sometimes, I think fistfights on streets with boys their age will do them more good in the long-term.

*~*

yes, i'm kinda angtsy right now...

GUYS... was not talking of marriage in my previous post. Was talking of something I don't wanna exactly share yet... not really because I might jinx it, but because I think I want it sooo bad that i'd be disappointed if it doesn't happen...

or if it was not given.

But I feel ripe for it... and I feel that this is a blessing in disguise for them, because they really need someone like me.

That is not confidence or an over-fighting spirit... that is just awareness that the time has come for me to do something I really love, and something i've always been told am good at...

The quote "when the student is READY, the Master will APPEAR" comes to mind... everything in its own sweet time... and maybe this is my real birthday gift from Life.

*~*

Am tickled pink by Jay's post about the swell of a woman's hips. Before, I probably wouldn't have been flattered, but well, 4 years ago, I started getting them to add to my butt... so there you go...

And speaking of butts... I posted this close-up butt pic of mine in MTC and guys have been messaging me about how yummy it looked. Not that I didn't have panties on... I was wearing this black lacey ones... ahehe

(do you think i have exhibitionistic tendencies?)

*~*

It's official. I can consume more than a kilo of fresh oysters, and even another kilo of baked oysters. But I can't consume a kilo of baked oysters alone.

I want my oysters fresh!!! Repeat, I want my oysters fresh! Repeat, Oysters should be eaten fresh!

La lang...

*~*

He feasts on rambutan. And upon arriving at home, he'd immediately walk-run to me to get my hand, and lead me the computer to indicate that he wants to view his pictures... again.

And everytime he'd see a picture with his Mom in it, he'd immediately shout, "MAMA!" Sometimes, he'd say that word aloud several times. And this gives us pause and breaks our heart for all its implications.

First, there's the fact that he can now really recognize/identify people (he'd look at me when he views pics of me with him, and look at Mom when he's in a picture with her, and look around for my sis or his dad when he sees pics of them), he has also started associating real words to real people/objects (mama, papa, mamam, tita, align, appear, bless, kiss, love, beautiful eyes), he cannot help but miss his mother (who cries everytime she calls from Korea)... in short, our baby is growing up.

Now, my Mother is usually caught saying out loud that he wishes Pyro won't learn to really walk on his own for a while longer(see, he's always been able to walk since he was 8 months, but he's never had enough confidence to let go off someone's finger... for that imaginary support)...

And now, we seem to be replaying old videos of him... of when he first tried rolling on the mat, his infant-y giggles, his cries, the first time he learned to kiss and bless, or hold his bottle...

And we'd look at his latest video, from my birthday when he was banging a spoon on a table and then half-lying on it as he shouts and screams and shrieks... and we'd say in a bittersweet tone... he's fast growing up.

I am not his mother but I can say, it's real hard watching him grow up... to hit his shins and get bruises and fall down and play outside and eat weird stuff...

Thanks to my digicam, for allowing me to document the transitions he's made and the thresholds he's crossed...

All of a sudden, am all senti-hornal.

And I suddenly long to be bathed. Yes, bathed by someone. It makes me feel like a child pampered when someone else (of course, at this age, it's a guy, and not my Mom) shampoos my hair and rubs my body with vanilla-flavored body wash on a puff. Aside from the gloriously kinky sh!t that happens during (body rubbing, tit-tweaking, and i'd stop here lest i become more graphic) the bath, it just really makes me feel cared for...

And that's a once-in-a-blue-moon change. For usually too, I'm the one who finds myself shampooing the guy and making sure he's clean everywhere. Weirdly enough, I'm one of those who always offer to bathe a lover, taking delight in touching him with care that way.

Even weirder is, after a round of passionate, mind-boggling sex... I also find myself offering a massage. Maybe it's because I feel more and more alive after more and more orgasms that I need to channel my energies onto thoughtful ways... like kneading tired muscles to make sure he's less sore when we go home.

And then, there's the fact that I miss getting MEME... that light caress that really relaxes me, sometimes enough to make me fall asleep. And I just absolutely love the feel of meme on my back (i also can't explain why i don't get tickled, ok?)... especially on my butt!!!

That's a super treat for me and am almost always rendered sleepy and useless and blisfully happy when I get caressed on my butt.

Although, considering the wonderful behind I know I possess (by virtue of Nature's good humor), I usually wonder why it gets bitten more than it gets caressed...

Hmmm...

*~*

Something came up... PRAY for me guys, a possibility of a dream realization is at hand... but i'm caught feeling unprepared, so pray for me!!!

Saturday was BYOB (Bring Your Own Boylet/Baon/Booze) night for my AA crowd and they, as usual, partied on whiskey, rhum (dalandan soda and rhum tastes great!), tequila, absolut vodka vanilla (?), gilbey's gin and vodka mudshakes (while I consumed a whole 1.5 liter of Sprite) while pigging out. They loved the Becky's Kitchen's chocolate mousse (it's almost like ice cream cake because it's sooo frothy creamy) that I brought. They also loved taking turns with the ORGASMATRON, and our host loved running after me to use it on me, loving the sounds I make (think, orgasm sounds when I was just really ticklish... yes, they sooo abuse me).

Not that I need thingamajigs like that to get tickled... I keep telling them, if they wanna hear the moans, i'd just moan... just to please stop violating me with their hands on my back, my hair, my ears, my neck, my ribs, my thighs...

Arrghh...

They keep asking how I can have sex considering that fact... and i just think, well... wonders have never ceased.

*~*

I'm not sure with you guys but it feels like the world is silently but quickly being propelled to Christmas. It's like riding a fast and eager elevator... so I plan to start buying stuff for my nephews and nieces soon.

I pray, that the government's austerity measures do not affect our usual incentives!!!

*~*

Guys would often counter that they're not insensitive. They even argue that women are just overly sensitive.

But if we've already said we're watching something we like, when you called, isn't that clue enough that we're not really in a mood to talk?

And when we happen to find ourselves in a mode to finally tell you the meaning of a certain catch phrase that you've been hearing from us... and the story involves a great amount of love and hope and faith... and you start making making-fun noises, why do you get surprised when our feelings get hurt?

*~*

I allowed Pyro to eat rambutan which he repeatedly kept letting fall on the floor... kid had to go thru that rite of passage anyway.

*~*

Rio Diaz' death is all over the news, but am not complaining. She is just inspirational and brave in her faith that THE BEST IS YET TO COME for her, in death.

THE BEST IS YET TO COME... after reading a certain story from Chicken Soup for the Soul, i've never looked at death and loss any other way.

THE FLIP SIDE OF SEXUAL HARASSMENT AND THE LIKE

The things some people who haven't learned to be happy (or content) do sometimes. Tsk, tsk.

One of the managers in our agency is suspended for threee months for a case of sexual harassment. The thing is, having been in his company in numerous executive meetings, I can believe that he can be naughty... but I also cannot believe that he would be reduced to coercing someone into pleasing him. Heck, I can name several other managers who are more lascivious and creepily obscene.

His only fault was, he forgot to draw the line on professional relationships. Or rather, he forgot that he was the girl's boss and shouldn't be dating her.

And it just feels sad that now, his reputation is shot because some woman she hired for her looks, who he also wined and dined and treated like a queen (am sure whatever physical intimacy exchanged was consensual) decided to file a case against him. And the bumbling idiot was man and stupid enough to admit to sooooo many dates and intimacies which he believed to be consensual.

I am not saying he wasn't stupid and in the wrong. But it gets to me that women (you know, same specie as I am) would use and abuse and destroy men. It also strikes me as suspicious that it takes several dates and gifts and holding-hand moments before a woman comes to her senses and say, "Ohmygulay, i am being harassed!"

*~*

This reminds me of that girl from UST who filed a case of rape against a guy I know. The guy was shattered by the experience, of course. Not that he isn't an arrogant pr!ck... but I think he did have a point.

How could it have been rape when the girl wasn't inebriated enough, they were in an unlocked room with so many other USTedyantes outside the room partying, and the girl was pumping and grinding on top of him?

*~*

I am also reminded of two people in a message board. They met in some EB and the guy offered to give the girl a ride home. The girl offered nookie. And so they had consensual sex. But the thing was, the guy didn't have enough cash that time so the girl had to dish out some dough too.

And then she comes ranting in the message board, saying that the guy was a lousy lay (but do you really expect 100% satisfaction and performance from someone you just picked up somewhere?) and was such a cheapskate. Before anybody could blink fake eyelashes, people were ridiculing the guy for making the girl pay.

And I was like... what's the big fuss? I split the motel bill with boyfriends! Why should you crucify a man who didn't have enough cash? It's not like he insisted and held you at gunppoint!

*~*

When I was still working in DOF, and this CPA-lawyer who was 17 years my senior was making the moves on me... I knew sleepless nights and jumpy days.

He started harassing me innocently enough. He held a higher position, of course, but we were of the same batch. I even called him KUYA, out of deference to the balding spot in his head, covered by whisps of coppery hair that failed to stop him from looking older than my Dad. I'd just find it weird that he'd tell me he could see my bra with the blouse-bra am wearing when we're sitting side by side... when we're already about to go home at the end of the day. Duh, things you could have brought to my attention earlier!!!

And then the second batch of new employees came along, which brought with it people my age. I got close with one of them, Mario, and we were kindred spirits indeed (we'd run after each other tickling each other, dodging chairs and cubicles). I didn't know that he started getting jealous of Mario. It only became evident when our other colleagues would notice that he'd spend hours just watching me and Mario work together. And then, sometimes, during lunch, i'd miss Mario and find out later that the CREEP didn't tell him we're having lunch already. And then of course, there was that time when the CREEP cornered Mario at the fire exit... asking him if he was courting me... and even forcing my genius-with-the-piano friend to admit that he was in love with me. After several explanations that we're just friends and that he had a gf, the CREEP would then ask him who it was that i liked.

And of course, he also had to do the same with another male friend, Jess.

And so it became known that I was the love of his life. Some guys in our division would have a field day just teasing us... and then they'd get the CREEP to go to beer gardens with them and treat them to booze while they play sympathetic with his ramblings about how he has never fallen in love before and how he always manages to get what he wants.

And then he started getting real creepy. He'd give me rosaries and stationeries with Bible quotes. He'd give me a Bible for my sister. He'd leave earlier than I do and watch what jeepney i'd ride so he can travel with me. He'd try accompanying me to my destination. He'd ask if I was already going home or not, where I was going, who was I with. He'd steal the picture I gave to my pregnant boss (we realized it was missing from her things and found it in HIS drawer). He'd go over thru Mario's briefcase and 'borrow' my letters to him. Worst of all, he'd download NUDE pictures of pre-pubescent girls and male celebrities (wtf, even I don't care for Brad Pitt naked).

But I guess, the worst thing was... my boss, instead of talking to him about his stalking, unprofessional behavior decided to talk to me. And she discouraged me from hanging out with Mario. She also talked to Mario to stop hanging out with me. And she expressly arranged things so that i'd only go to plant visits with the CREEP. All that to avoid confrontations (I think, she was protecting Mario more than me) and further tension. Even the other people there arranged things so that the other guys from our barkada won't be found in my company. He was that intimidating.

Now, that is sexual harassment. And so, I left.

*~*

I know it's probably arrogant of me to say that it's easy to not be a victim of harassment. But really, it's easy. As easy as walking away.

It only becomes hard if the woman, deep within her, believes she deserves the treatment... or that she has no options. Or that nobody will believe her. It also becomes hard when she fails to gather evidence. Or when she doesn't exercise her rights.

I will never accept that a woman who loves sexy outfits is inviting rape, harassment or plain judgment... unless she wears them inappropriately to weddings, places of worship, funerals and really dark alleys. Contrary to what movies depict, a woman need not be wearing a see-thru cotton slip and bathing outside for her to get raped. Children get molested not because they were wearing thongs or plunging outfits. Some guys are just plain perverted and cruel.

But it's also high time women assume some responsibility when they get harassed. Like, if they cannot say NO, they also shouldn't be anywhere near men.

*~*

Which is why am thankful that my sister grew up to be more masungit than I am, and yet empowered...