I have at least three friends – intelligent, creative people – who are thinking of hauling ass and leaving the country because their earning opportunities here are not as good as in North America, Singapore, Hong Kong or even China.
Some young people I know only are capable of spelling only ala text message (a rl trajdy, doncha thnk?) and have lost the ability to wield the English language in a manner my peers could at their age.
FPJ is running for president and some people have actually forgotten about the catastrophe that was Erap and are actually going to vote for his best friend.
It seems so many aspects of life in the Philippines are in a downward spiral. Methinks other Asian countries/economies are going to eat us whole and won't even choke on bone, if we don’t shape up soon – as in, now.
My three-year old son, who is trying to learn the National Anthem phonetically, captures the spirit best: “Bayang magiliw, ‘breakfast’ ng silanganan . . .”
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11.26.2003
WANTED: TOM BAYAN
The man’s a criminal. He is the country’s enemy number one. He is the sole reason why the Philippines is swimming in a deep pile of dog excrement. Everything that has ever gone wrong in my country is his **bleep**ing fault.
Ask a congressman why he hasn’t been attending sessions (and spending time brokering government contracts), he would say, “Ah, kasi … um … kinukunsulta ko kasi ang Tom Bayan.”
Ask a mob rallying on the street why they are collectively asking [insert name of random politician here] to resign (after being paid off by another politician), they would say, “Ito ang gusto ng Tom Bayan!”
This name is brandished as if this unseen creature was some infallible deity who can justify any act of stupidity or selfishness or stupid selfishness.
Really, we should all just hunt this guy down and scalp him.
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11.21.2003
SALONS, SEX AND SPECTERS
Indulgence. I spent the morning at a salon (Definition in Ortigas, where my favorite stylist Miles is Technical Director) and treated myself to some well-deserved pampering. Foot spa (major discovery: mas magaling mag-isis ng paa ang lalaking salon attendant), manicure, pedicure, massage, facial, highlights, hair re-styling and two years of Cosmo back issues -- if an orgasm can be stretched over four hours, it would feel exactly like how I felt from all of these kakikayan treats. Well perhaps not exactly . . .
"Open" fly. Seen while I was being shampooed: On the National Geographic Channel, a group of scientists talked of how they genetically modified a fruit fly to be homosexual -- and then recorded data as the genetically predisposed gay fly was shunned by the colony for trying to shag the males. Unless, these scientists also provided fruit fly counseling, that was downright evil.
New Poem. Ninakaw Mo Ang Boyfriend Ko. Dedicated to a fruit fly which must be going through a lot of complicated emotions. May you give that bitch of a girl-fly a run for her boy-fly.
Ghost of a Corporate Slave Part 2. I had to call my ex-employer to follow up on some paperwork related to my separation. After dialing the trunk line, I was greeted by my own voice! Feels strange, weird, unnatural. If you have nothing better to do, dial +63 2 6371600 (not during office hours please) to hear me talking as "the Voice of [insert name of Swedish telecoms company I used to work for here]." That way, I can ask for royalties -- hehe.
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11.14.2003
KINDRED SPIRIT
I see myself in my fifteen-year old neice/goddaughter, JJ – so much so, it’s scary. The subtle similarities between us can make her pass for my daughter. If only I acted more my age ...
We are both pre-destined to be dimensionally challenged and to be tortured for it because our sisters (we are both the middle sister in a set of 3) are thinner. When our dads are away, we both end up with the heavy lifting. We have thick gravity-defiant hair. We are both passionately creative. Oh, yeah, and boys find us absolutely adorable -- hehe.
I spent the day with her mom and she had a gem of story to share.
JJ is the president of her school's student council. Ergo, she finds herself working closely with the faculty, even if she can't relate to them half the time.
At the end of a particularly long day, she and her homeroom adviser were talking one-on-one. Even sans logic-altering alcohol, their conversation turned personal and her thirty-ish teacher confessed that she had always wanted to become a nun. In fact, she continues to ponder on the joys of a life dedicated to God and was patiently waiting for a sign.
I can only imagine my neice's wide-eyed pa-innocent look and her newly-rebonded head cocked to one side, as she delivered her one-line comeback: "So, Miss, virgin pa kayo?"
With my employment officially ending this Friday, I need to resist the urge to bum around into Christmas and start setting up my business. So with firm resolve, I gave up my afternoon nap and started Project Carinderia today.
Food was identified early on as a preferred business because of the relatively higher margins compared to business where money will be tied up in inventory. But what kind and where? Just regarding the endless possibilities is giving me stomach cramps.
In making this life-changing decision, I could be scientific or instinctive. I was never really good at science so ...
Inspiration took me to UP Diliman today and I visited my old haunts. The College of Business Administration building is under major renovation -- perhaps an opportunity there. I also surveyed Vinzon's Hall where the University Food Service is. I drove to the Bahay ng Alumni -- the Chocolate Kiss Cafe was packed; sadly, my favorite Odd Manila no longer existed though. 'Need to walk through AS and Melchor Hall next time.
The fire has been lit, folks. ‘Time to get the cauldron brewing.
***
Ako po'y nananawagan . . . If you are currently a student in UP Diliman, don't have a mom/yaya who lovingly prepares baon for you (ergo you have to find food on campus), and are kind enough to help me with some market research, email me info on what College you're from, where you eat and why.
You know it's always a good idea to be nice to a lady who may be in a position to, literally, give you free lunch some day. :) Sige na . . .
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11.11.2003
ALMOST EMPTY
My "blog idea cup" is getting shorter (it's down to a demitasse) and it's almost empty.
'Funny how the more people I know visit my site, the less I can write about. Simply because I know for a fact that people in my life are not blessed with enough mirth to laugh off what my evil maldita side would dish out -- that is, when it's about them.
My husband is getting tired of getting questions from friends and family about the goings-on in our lives that find their way into one of my entries. His favorite way out of a long explanation: "Oh that? Wala yon. Kathang-isip na naman ni Mona yun (That's nothing. Mona's imagining things again)."
If inspiration continues to evade me, I think I will have to start making things up soon.
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11.08.2003
AFTER THE JOY
Part of the reason for acting like I've OD'd on Prozac lately: Two weeks of vacation (scheduled tasks on my Palm Pilot ignored). Processed meat for breakfast ("Hotdog, luncheon meat or bacon?"). Eating out at almost every meal (Ate's para-hindi-na-magluto-sa-bahay line is always welcome). Frequent McDonald's drive-thru's ("The boys want french fries eh."). Starbucks coffee ("I have to stay up for the baby anyway."). Carbo loading galore ("Please pass the rice."). Chocolate overload ("Hmm...I haven't tasted this brand before - sarap. Penge pa nga...). Zero exercise ("Kaka-CS lang -- can't over-exert.").
It's so much fun to enjoy life/food when you're on a vacation. Unfortunately, one has to get the bill eventually and pay the price. I feel like I'm a Hershey bar away from a coronary.
Okay, so if living like I was gunning for death-by-bacon-and-eggs made me chipper; then it is expected that my resolve to watch what I eat and start exercising again will make me cranky.
My dear Ate Sushi is in town and is staying at my house over her vacation in the Philippines. And as I am, temporarily, somewhat "challenged" in the motor vehicle department, my dad lent me one of his SUV's, so I can drive for my older sister without having to schedule around my husband's use of our van.
Tonight, I drove the SUV to SM North EDSA to return a mouse I bought at the Cyberzone building. As I was driving up the parking garage, the fiberglass casing on the front bullbars fell off! Cursing through my teeth (pa-wholesome kasi my son was in the car), I threw the darn thing in the back compartment, away from the security guards who were giving me the oh-that's-a-"lady-driver"-who-probably-regularly-ruins-her-car-by-bumping-into-inanimate-objects look. When we got home, I took the casing out and began to attach it to where it belonged before someone (specifically, my dad) found out.
My sister saw me midway through the "covert operation" and enunciated what I knew all along -- "Papa will go ballistic. Let's not tell him." And she helped me screw the fiberglass back on the bullbar.
The whole thing was reminiscent of how, together, we would "fix" scratches and bumps on our cars back in high school/college so my dad won't ruin so-called our social lives by revoking driving privileges.
Here’s what I’ve been up to: Lisa’s christening, Lisa’s christening party, house clean-up for Lisa’s christening party, Ate Sushi’s homecoming, a bit of travelling … oh yeah, and another birthday.
On my birthday (the 29th), my entire family -- dad, sisters, nieces, husband, kids -- and I started on a little trip -- which effectively disproved my friend C's contention that the best vacations are never the well-planned, perfectly executed ones. And while it would have been really something if our trip was marred with comedic tragedies a la National Lampoon, we had a spanking great time even without getting lost along the way and without the SUV breaking down in the middle of a dirt road right before a boulder crushed it to smithereens.
The worst we did was a flat tire, a stray iguana in the hotel room and my kids learning to mimic characters from a PC game called “Neighbors from Hell.”
I’m dead tired and I haven’t had one decent night’s sleep in two months . . . still **happy, happy, joy, joy**
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