SPOKENING IN DOLLARS
The last post unlocked a lot of memories for me from when I lived in the Philippines. Most were good, others were bad. Finishing up my last year of high school and attending college there opened my eyes to the prejudices some people have towards those who are from the States. Their negative whispers, comments, and actions helped me choose my friends carefully. It also helped me realize that it didn't matter what other people thought of me, and that I don't have to conform to their standards; but, at the same time, respect my Filipino culture and traditions.
The word "liberated" is so loosely used there, and used in the wrong context. Their definition basically means someone who's agressive speaks his/her mind, talks back to parents, girls who make the first move. You get the idea. Do you know how many times I've been labeled as such? Blame the blue passport I hold.
"Ay, Stateside pala 'to. Siguro liberated 'yan." ("Oh, she's from the States. She's probably "liberated".)
A lot of people already made up their minds as to who I was. They would talk about me like they already knew me. Some of my classmates in high school were intimidated to approach me. Others kissed my ass because they knew where I'm from. Some of the guys thought they could date me because I was "liberated". Yeah right. A guy in my class called me "cheap" because I wrote to a guy friend back in Hawaii. The reason why he called me that was because I mentioned that I wrote to my friend first since he didn't have my address in the Philippines. Translated in my classmate's mind was: "She's trying to date this guy and she made the first move! That is so unconservative!". Two things went through my mind. One, I wasn't even dating my friend; and two, I almost pounded my classmate's face in. I'll show him "liberated"! On the other hand, there were the kind-hearted few who helped me any way they could to get me adjusted to the new environment.
By the time I started college, I had learned enough Tagalog to carry on a conversation. I didn't tell people where I was from. They pretty much figured it out from my accent. They usually asked questions when my Tagalog was spoken with an American accent. Early on in college in our department, I met two kinds of people: those who called me suplada or a snob, and those who tried to be my friend (I could always see right through them). I could care less about them. But because our major was relatively small to the rest of the school in terms of the number of students enrolled, those in our major began to get to know each other better. That's how I found who my true friends were (and they still are...you know who you guys are!). There were no prejudices in that group of ours, and everyone was accepted, regardless of their background and experiences. They were a big part of my whole college experience.
I also had a group of friends who are Navy brats like me, and every Friday night, without fail, we'd all meet for dinner. At the time, Baguio City was small, so we'd see the same faces walking up and down Session Road. There was a time when we ran into the same group of girls at certain restaurants and coffee shops for about three consecutive Fridays. Of course, my friends and I were talking in English, as it is our first language. When the girls happened to be at the restaurant we were dining at, they'd give us side glances, talking amongst each other about us in Tagalog, saying things like, "Who do they think they are talking in English? They're so maarte. They're drawing attention to themselves." Blah, blah, blah. It's happened more than once, but we just ignored them each time. I think they assumed we couldn't understand or speak Tagalog. And then one night, we were in Dunkin' Donuts when the group of girls came in and sat next to us, talking smack about us. The b**tches made a very big mistake. One of us in the group said in Tagalog, "These girls are stupid enough to assume that we don't understand Tagolog that they're talking sh*t about us." Ha! Oh, did that feel good when they found out we could speak Tagalog!
It all just boils down to one thing, no matter how cliche it sounds, which is "Don't judge a book by it's cover". It goes for every person, for every culture.
THE CITY OF PINES
It's been a while since I thought about Baguio. It holds a lot of college memories. I heard that the city has grown--new malls, new restaurants, new bars. I wonder if the gang's old haunts are still there:
1. Cafe San Luis. Remember when this was still on Magsaysay before it moved to Session Road?
2. Gimbals. There's nuthin' like listening to live bands play.
3. Alberto's. Again, live bands.
4. Shadows. Lokeliko, oh, do I have stories to share!
5. Sizzling Plate. This is where my friends and I met every Friday.
6. Spirits. This was the only dance club in the city for the longest time. The club was inside an old Victorian house.
7. Don Henrico's
Can anyone update me?
Thursday, September 30, 2004
YOU CARRY THE RELATIONSHIP
Today, my co-worker, Miss A, and I were talking about job searching on the internet when she told me a story of when she was at school looking for jobs for her boyfriend on the internet. A Filipino lady saw her, asked her what she was doing, then proceeded to ask her why she was helping her boyfriend. Enforcing her Filipino old school ways on Miss A, the lady said to her, "You shouldn't be helping him. He should be doing that himself." In other words, a woman isn't supposed to help out her man. Miss A then explained to her that when you're in a relationship you help each other out.
If you ask Miss A and me about the lady's comment, we'll tell you that's bullsh*t.
A couple of weeks ago, I caught an episode of Kris Aquino's show (a Tagalog talk show that airs in the Philippines) on KTSF. She had a panel of young, male celebrities on one side, and she had the female stars on the other. The show is usually about relationships, and the episode's topic was "Sino ba dapat ang magdadala sa relasyon?" Literally translated, it means "Who should 'carry' the relationship?" To me, it sounds more like, "Who should take charge and dominate the relationship?" Most of the guests argued that it should be the guy. And what? The girls are supposed to bow down and sit pretty? I mean, I understand the whole chivalry bit; but, when a girl actually does something to help in the relationship, be it paying for dinner and a movie, she is looked upon as being "aggresive" and "liberated", whatever the hell that means. Helping your man doesn't make you "agressive" or "liberated". Of course, this is in a Philippine setting, and not all couples are like that. I just hated seeing meek and weak girls in relationships. It takes two to make a relationship work.
Today, my co-worker, Miss A, and I were talking about job searching on the internet when she told me a story of when she was at school looking for jobs for her boyfriend on the internet. A Filipino lady saw her, asked her what she was doing, then proceeded to ask her why she was helping her boyfriend. Enforcing her Filipino old school ways on Miss A, the lady said to her, "You shouldn't be helping him. He should be doing that himself." In other words, a woman isn't supposed to help out her man. Miss A then explained to her that when you're in a relationship you help each other out.
If you ask Miss A and me about the lady's comment, we'll tell you that's bullsh*t.
A couple of weeks ago, I caught an episode of Kris Aquino's show (a Tagalog talk show that airs in the Philippines) on KTSF. She had a panel of young, male celebrities on one side, and she had the female stars on the other. The show is usually about relationships, and the episode's topic was "Sino ba dapat ang magdadala sa relasyon?" Literally translated, it means "Who should 'carry' the relationship?" To me, it sounds more like, "Who should take charge and dominate the relationship?" Most of the guests argued that it should be the guy. And what? The girls are supposed to bow down and sit pretty? I mean, I understand the whole chivalry bit; but, when a girl actually does something to help in the relationship, be it paying for dinner and a movie, she is looked upon as being "aggresive" and "liberated", whatever the hell that means. Helping your man doesn't make you "agressive" or "liberated". Of course, this is in a Philippine setting, and not all couples are like that. I just hated seeing meek and weak girls in relationships. It takes two to make a relationship work.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
WHERE WILL IT POP UP NEXT?!
Sinta and I were at a Halloween costume store looking at rubber skulls and cauldrons full of gross goodies when we found a pot full of little rubber mice. I stuck my hand in it, and I yelped. I hate mice! But my bro hates mice more than I do. With that in mind, Sinta and I bought a couple of rubber mice to plant around the apartment for Lokeliko. We couldn't stop giggling, finding places to hide them. We placed one on top of his shampoo bottle. Talk about a birthday greeting for him! We heard him drop something in the shower. When he came out, he was laughing. "That's not cool, you guys!" We placed the other one inside the coffee filters, and that got him good! Imagine being half asleep early in the morning, and you're trudging to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. You reach for the coffee filters and you find a mouse in it! I'd be yelling like a b**ch if that happened to me.
It didn't stop there, because what comes around goes around. The other night, while I was washing my face, I looked over at Sinta who was smiling and biting his lower lip. I thought he was just being cute. I continued with my routine, and when I looked down...crap! The rubber thing was sitting on top of the faucet. Scared the crap outta me! Then then this afternoon, while I was cooking, I had my back to the stove. When I turned around, I saw that hideous pink tail coming out from behind the tea kettle. I almost dropped the collander of pasta! It sucks now because we're walking on egg shells. Who knows where we'll see the next one.
Here are the rubber rodents. Check out that pink tail!
Yuck!!!
HALLOWEEN AND STAR WARS
It's almost time for us to add another month to our Blogger archives. The months are flying by so fast that that it will be Christmas before we know it. Before that, though, is Halloween. So, in the spirit of ghosts and goblins, we bought a spooky house of tealights.
Too cute to be scary...
Since Star Wars is back again, I think I'll be Yoda for Halloween. Dress like Yoda, I will.
Somewhere in there is Skywalker Ranch...
What do you think we'd get if we went trick-or-treating there?
MARY JANES UPDATE
Okay, so Sinta and I go back to Valley Fair to get my shoes. The store is actually Journeys For Kids, and I figured that I could get my size since it wouldn't be the first time I would buy from the children's section. Well, I try on the shoe on display, and it's tight. I take it off and look at the sticker on the sole, and it's the biggest size they have. Great. I put it back on.
"So she tries it on again to see if it really fits," Sinta says.
Hey, you never know. Unfortunately, though, I wouldn't be able to pull it off without limping like a fool. It reminds me of a friend I had back in college who refused to buy shoes that weren't a size 7, regardless of whether or not the tight-fitting shoes gave her corns and blisters. Eeewwww! I'm not about to do that. Oh, well. Those shoes weren't meant to be. I'll just have to look around some more.
Sinta and I were at a Halloween costume store looking at rubber skulls and cauldrons full of gross goodies when we found a pot full of little rubber mice. I stuck my hand in it, and I yelped. I hate mice! But my bro hates mice more than I do. With that in mind, Sinta and I bought a couple of rubber mice to plant around the apartment for Lokeliko. We couldn't stop giggling, finding places to hide them. We placed one on top of his shampoo bottle. Talk about a birthday greeting for him! We heard him drop something in the shower. When he came out, he was laughing. "That's not cool, you guys!" We placed the other one inside the coffee filters, and that got him good! Imagine being half asleep early in the morning, and you're trudging to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. You reach for the coffee filters and you find a mouse in it! I'd be yelling like a b**ch if that happened to me.
It didn't stop there, because what comes around goes around. The other night, while I was washing my face, I looked over at Sinta who was smiling and biting his lower lip. I thought he was just being cute. I continued with my routine, and when I looked down...crap! The rubber thing was sitting on top of the faucet. Scared the crap outta me! Then then this afternoon, while I was cooking, I had my back to the stove. When I turned around, I saw that hideous pink tail coming out from behind the tea kettle. I almost dropped the collander of pasta! It sucks now because we're walking on egg shells. Who knows where we'll see the next one.
Here are the rubber rodents. Check out that pink tail!
Yuck!!!
HALLOWEEN AND STAR WARS
It's almost time for us to add another month to our Blogger archives. The months are flying by so fast that that it will be Christmas before we know it. Before that, though, is Halloween. So, in the spirit of ghosts and goblins, we bought a spooky house of tealights.
Too cute to be scary...
Since Star Wars is back again, I think I'll be Yoda for Halloween. Dress like Yoda, I will.
Somewhere in there is Skywalker Ranch...
What do you think we'd get if we went trick-or-treating there?
MARY JANES UPDATE
Okay, so Sinta and I go back to Valley Fair to get my shoes. The store is actually Journeys For Kids, and I figured that I could get my size since it wouldn't be the first time I would buy from the children's section. Well, I try on the shoe on display, and it's tight. I take it off and look at the sticker on the sole, and it's the biggest size they have. Great. I put it back on.
"So she tries it on again to see if it really fits," Sinta says.
Hey, you never know. Unfortunately, though, I wouldn't be able to pull it off without limping like a fool. It reminds me of a friend I had back in college who refused to buy shoes that weren't a size 7, regardless of whether or not the tight-fitting shoes gave her corns and blisters. Eeewwww! I'm not about to do that. Oh, well. Those shoes weren't meant to be. I'll just have to look around some more.
Monday, September 27, 2004
MONDAY BLAHS
I got a bad case of the Mondays. Work started out busy this morning. It's not exactly what I needed, but it was to be expected. It is, after all, the beginning of the work week. The weekend was definitely too short.
SOMETHING'S MISSING
Sinta is flying over the Pacific as I type this. I sure wish I was with him to enjoy some sun, and to get away from this cool weather here in the Bay.
**I miss you, Baby. Hurry home.**
BIRTHDAY GREETINGS...
...to my brother whose birthday was yesterday. He turned...um...how old are you now? Lol! You joke around about your age so much, I forget how old you really are! J/k! Happy, happy birthday, Bro!
I got a bad case of the Mondays. Work started out busy this morning. It's not exactly what I needed, but it was to be expected. It is, after all, the beginning of the work week. The weekend was definitely too short.
SOMETHING'S MISSING
Sinta is flying over the Pacific as I type this. I sure wish I was with him to enjoy some sun, and to get away from this cool weather here in the Bay.
**I miss you, Baby. Hurry home.**
BIRTHDAY GREETINGS...
...to my brother whose birthday was yesterday. He turned...um...how old are you now? Lol! You joke around about your age so much, I forget how old you really are! J/k! Happy, happy birthday, Bro!
Friday, September 24, 2004
Superstitions and Mary Janes
Thank goodness the weekend is here. It was late when I got out of work early this evening. It was a long day, and I'm tired. It's okay, though. I few extra hours never hurt. When I got home, I prepared a quick dinner and did the laundry. I can hear our neighbors across the way, drinking and talking stories. It's their way of ending their work week.
I, on the other hand, cannot keep still. I've been cleaning here and there, but I haven't exactly accomplished anything. I want to vaccuum, but it's too late in the night. I'm not going to be like Mr. Awake-At-Odd-Hours-In-the-Night who lives above us, and vaccuum at 10 at night. I'd like to sweep the floors right now, but Filipino superstition dictates me: Don't sweep at night, or else you will sweep away the home's good luck. These things will have to wait until tomorrow.
But the REAL reason why I can't keep still is because I'm thinking of a pair of shoes. I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight. If the store was open, I'd go there right now and buy it. The other night, Sinta and I were at Valley Fair mall doing some shopping. We stopped by Journeys to get my shoe fix, and a pair of black, Mary Jane flats caught my eye. Had to try them on. I wasn't sure at the time if I was going to purchase them. But as the days passed, the more I wanted them. I have to have them!
I can't remember the last time I wanted to buy something so bad, I couldn't keep still.
Shoes and purses are dangerous. They are.
Remember When?
I don't know how this came about or where we saw it, but Sinta and I just had to buy Trivial Pursuit 90s Time Capsule Edition. Yesterday afternoon, we drove to Toys 'R' Us. We went crazy looking at all the toys before buying our game. We went home, barbecued flank steaks, and played a couple of rounds. If you grew up in the 90s, and you think you'll breeze through this game, well, think again. It's rather challenging, but fun nonetheless. I got a kick out of the tokens. You have the grunge guitarist, a PDA, a cup of coffee, and a stock certificate. Can you get any more 90s than that?
This is What Google Thinks of Me
I got this from my brother's blog. Check out Googlism to see what Google thinks of you.
These are some of the things I found:
rho is a part of our history
rho is especially designed for reproductive health program managers and decision
rho is going digital
rho is one of the youngest fraternity in the world
rho is to promote excellence
rho is supervised by a rho manager
rho is a measure of the linear relationship between two variables
rho is reactivity
rho is famous for our big jello
rho is the national honorary society for statistics
rho is in excellent shape
rho is the spin alignment of the quarks
rho is still having fun
rho is one of the most ancient
rho is ready to enter the big league of the advertising world
Thank goodness the weekend is here. It was late when I got out of work early this evening. It was a long day, and I'm tired. It's okay, though. I few extra hours never hurt. When I got home, I prepared a quick dinner and did the laundry. I can hear our neighbors across the way, drinking and talking stories. It's their way of ending their work week.
I, on the other hand, cannot keep still. I've been cleaning here and there, but I haven't exactly accomplished anything. I want to vaccuum, but it's too late in the night. I'm not going to be like Mr. Awake-At-Odd-Hours-In-the-Night who lives above us, and vaccuum at 10 at night. I'd like to sweep the floors right now, but Filipino superstition dictates me: Don't sweep at night, or else you will sweep away the home's good luck. These things will have to wait until tomorrow.
But the REAL reason why I can't keep still is because I'm thinking of a pair of shoes. I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight. If the store was open, I'd go there right now and buy it. The other night, Sinta and I were at Valley Fair mall doing some shopping. We stopped by Journeys to get my shoe fix, and a pair of black, Mary Jane flats caught my eye. Had to try them on. I wasn't sure at the time if I was going to purchase them. But as the days passed, the more I wanted them. I have to have them!
I can't remember the last time I wanted to buy something so bad, I couldn't keep still.
Shoes and purses are dangerous. They are.
Remember When?
I don't know how this came about or where we saw it, but Sinta and I just had to buy Trivial Pursuit 90s Time Capsule Edition. Yesterday afternoon, we drove to Toys 'R' Us. We went crazy looking at all the toys before buying our game. We went home, barbecued flank steaks, and played a couple of rounds. If you grew up in the 90s, and you think you'll breeze through this game, well, think again. It's rather challenging, but fun nonetheless. I got a kick out of the tokens. You have the grunge guitarist, a PDA, a cup of coffee, and a stock certificate. Can you get any more 90s than that?
This is What Google Thinks of Me
I got this from my brother's blog. Check out Googlism to see what Google thinks of you.
These are some of the things I found:
rho is a part of our history
rho is especially designed for reproductive health program managers and decision
rho is going digital
rho is one of the youngest fraternity in the world
rho is to promote excellence
rho is supervised by a rho manager
rho is a measure of the linear relationship between two variables
rho is reactivity
rho is famous for our big jello
rho is the national honorary society for statistics
rho is in excellent shape
rho is the spin alignment of the quarks
rho is still having fun
rho is one of the most ancient
rho is ready to enter the big league of the advertising world
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Congratulations, you make it until the end! You
are the strong, modestly good looking man or
woman who doesn't take it from anybody.
How fast would you die in a cheesy zombie flick?
brought to you by Quizilla
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
TV Land
It's been years since I had a regular TV show or sitcom that I religiously followed. Sure, I loved "Friends", "Will & Grace", and "Seinfeld" throughout the years, but I've never found myself rushing home to watch them. I just caught the shows whenever I was available. As I've gotten older, I had less time to watch TV or I just lost interest in them.
I remember back when I was still in junior high school, and even through my high school years, Sunday and Monday nights were reserved for my shows. I think I still remember the program line-up. I'm such a dork like that. On Sundays, I think it was "In Living Color" at 7pm, followed by "The Simpsons". Lol! "In Living Color"...that show cracked me up! I can't believe I'm admitting this, but I used to tape the episodes! I didn't think that the episodes would be compiled into something called a DVD. You can't forget Homie the Clown, Men on Film/Books/etc., and Firemarshall Bob. As for "The Simpsons", my brother and I taped a few episodes as well. Monday nights at 7pm was "The Fresh Prince of Bel Aire", and then "Blossom". Of course, being the dork that I was, I taped several episodes of each of those shows as well.
My fix for drama was feuled by "90210". It was further influenced by "Melrose Place" (blame Heather Locklear). Nowadays, I'll get my fix from reality shows. Mind you, I don't really follow reality shows...well, maybe except for the original "For Love or Money". I usually don't watch reality shows unless I've seen the first episode. If I have, you'll be sorry if you ever watch the show with me after that. I'll start talking to the TV, yelling at the people as if they can hear me. Even then, I usually won't watch the series in its entirety.
Sinta and I have discovered TV shows that we both like, shows that may even dictate our plans. Maybe. We've been following "Joey", and "Will & Grace". We've seen the first episode of "LAX", it's actually not that bad at all.
I can't wait till Thursday. Jack will be dancing with Janet Jackson (his dance scenes are always hilarious). I just might record it on DVD.
It's been years since I had a regular TV show or sitcom that I religiously followed. Sure, I loved "Friends", "Will & Grace", and "Seinfeld" throughout the years, but I've never found myself rushing home to watch them. I just caught the shows whenever I was available. As I've gotten older, I had less time to watch TV or I just lost interest in them.
I remember back when I was still in junior high school, and even through my high school years, Sunday and Monday nights were reserved for my shows. I think I still remember the program line-up. I'm such a dork like that. On Sundays, I think it was "In Living Color" at 7pm, followed by "The Simpsons". Lol! "In Living Color"...that show cracked me up! I can't believe I'm admitting this, but I used to tape the episodes! I didn't think that the episodes would be compiled into something called a DVD. You can't forget Homie the Clown, Men on Film/Books/etc., and Firemarshall Bob. As for "The Simpsons", my brother and I taped a few episodes as well. Monday nights at 7pm was "The Fresh Prince of Bel Aire", and then "Blossom". Of course, being the dork that I was, I taped several episodes of each of those shows as well.
My fix for drama was feuled by "90210". It was further influenced by "Melrose Place" (blame Heather Locklear). Nowadays, I'll get my fix from reality shows. Mind you, I don't really follow reality shows...well, maybe except for the original "For Love or Money". I usually don't watch reality shows unless I've seen the first episode. If I have, you'll be sorry if you ever watch the show with me after that. I'll start talking to the TV, yelling at the people as if they can hear me. Even then, I usually won't watch the series in its entirety.
Sinta and I have discovered TV shows that we both like, shows that may even dictate our plans. Maybe. We've been following "Joey", and "Will & Grace". We've seen the first episode of "LAX", it's actually not that bad at all.
I can't wait till Thursday. Jack will be dancing with Janet Jackson (his dance scenes are always hilarious). I just might record it on DVD.
In the Spirit of Yoda and the Jedi Force
The early part of Sunday afternoon was spent watching A&E for a couple of hours. What was great about it was that the channel featured George Lucas and the Star Wars trilogy. I grew up on Star Wars. While my playmates were playing with Barbie and other dolls, I was playing with my Star Wars action figures, namely Princess Leia, Wickett, and Yoda. While they were playing with doll houses, I was playing with my brother's Yoda house and the Millenium Falcon. Anyway, the documentary talked about Skywalker Ranch, and how it's hidden in the hills of Northern California. Moved by the program, Sinta and I decided to go for a Sunday afternoon drive to the North Bay, which is north of San Francisco...obviously! Lol! We had no intentions. We just wanted to take a drive.
Our first stop was in the cozy, quiet town of Tiburon. We drove around, and up the hill to Old St. Hilary's church. It was a cute church reminiscent of one in a New England town. Atop the hill gave way to a spectacular view of the bay and Mt. Tam. After more sightseeing, we hopped back onto 101 north. The Lucas Valley exit caught my eye, and Sinta made a quick exit. We had absolutely no idea what was out there. For all we knew, nothing was out there, as in boonie-ass in the middle of nowhere. Nevertheless, the drive was beautiful. The winding road took us through rolling hills and shady trees.
"Look! I think that's it! There it is!" Sinta said.
What he saw was the Skywalker Ranch! George Lucas owns 2,000 acres of land out there! We had to make a u-turn so that we could get a better view of it, but we had to drive down a few miles further to look for space to turn around because the road was narrow. We finally turned around at the Ewok forest (the Redwoods). Out of the woods and onto the rolling hills, we stopped to take a look at the ranch house, or what we could see of it. It was serenely nestled behind the hills. I had to practically step on my tippy toes to see it. All I could think of was Wow! George Lucas' ranch. His land. His vineyard. His cows. Star Wars. The greatest filmmaker. Ever.
The early part of Sunday afternoon was spent watching A&E for a couple of hours. What was great about it was that the channel featured George Lucas and the Star Wars trilogy. I grew up on Star Wars. While my playmates were playing with Barbie and other dolls, I was playing with my Star Wars action figures, namely Princess Leia, Wickett, and Yoda. While they were playing with doll houses, I was playing with my brother's Yoda house and the Millenium Falcon. Anyway, the documentary talked about Skywalker Ranch, and how it's hidden in the hills of Northern California. Moved by the program, Sinta and I decided to go for a Sunday afternoon drive to the North Bay, which is north of San Francisco...obviously! Lol! We had no intentions. We just wanted to take a drive.
Our first stop was in the cozy, quiet town of Tiburon. We drove around, and up the hill to Old St. Hilary's church. It was a cute church reminiscent of one in a New England town. Atop the hill gave way to a spectacular view of the bay and Mt. Tam. After more sightseeing, we hopped back onto 101 north. The Lucas Valley exit caught my eye, and Sinta made a quick exit. We had absolutely no idea what was out there. For all we knew, nothing was out there, as in boonie-ass in the middle of nowhere. Nevertheless, the drive was beautiful. The winding road took us through rolling hills and shady trees.
"Look! I think that's it! There it is!" Sinta said.
What he saw was the Skywalker Ranch! George Lucas owns 2,000 acres of land out there! We had to make a u-turn so that we could get a better view of it, but we had to drive down a few miles further to look for space to turn around because the road was narrow. We finally turned around at the Ewok forest (the Redwoods). Out of the woods and onto the rolling hills, we stopped to take a look at the ranch house, or what we could see of it. It was serenely nestled behind the hills. I had to practically step on my tippy toes to see it. All I could think of was Wow! George Lucas' ranch. His land. His vineyard. His cows. Star Wars. The greatest filmmaker. Ever.
Friday, September 17, 2004
I Can Beat All Y'all With Ease
Earlier tonight, as I was sitting here at the computer, I had the TV on in the background. "Fear Factor" reruns were on FX. It just so happened that the balut episode was on--the one where the contestants had to eat at least two eggs.
For those that don't know what balut is, it is a Filipino delicacy--a duck egg with a partially developed embryo, eaten boiled.
Joe Rogan, the host, called the contestants who were able to eat the balut "freaks".
Excuse me, Joe, but you're calling me and millions of other Filipinos "freaks". Don't disrespect my culture, especially when you make a statement like that in front of millions of viewers. I can see why this made the show as a stunt. You'd have to be the adventurous, open-minded type to even try it. Sure, the contestants were feeling nauseous and gagging, but that was to be expected. But it's a foreign delicacy. Be more open-minded. Don't call people who enjoy it "freaks", you freak.
I happen to like balut. I've actually eaten two eggs in one sitting. If someone offered me $50,000 to eat a third one, I bet I could do it.
Earlier tonight, as I was sitting here at the computer, I had the TV on in the background. "Fear Factor" reruns were on FX. It just so happened that the balut episode was on--the one where the contestants had to eat at least two eggs.
For those that don't know what balut is, it is a Filipino delicacy--a duck egg with a partially developed embryo, eaten boiled.
Joe Rogan, the host, called the contestants who were able to eat the balut "freaks".
Excuse me, Joe, but you're calling me and millions of other Filipinos "freaks". Don't disrespect my culture, especially when you make a statement like that in front of millions of viewers. I can see why this made the show as a stunt. You'd have to be the adventurous, open-minded type to even try it. Sure, the contestants were feeling nauseous and gagging, but that was to be expected. But it's a foreign delicacy. Be more open-minded. Don't call people who enjoy it "freaks", you freak.
I happen to like balut. I've actually eaten two eggs in one sitting. If someone offered me $50,000 to eat a third one, I bet I could do it.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
Goodness Gracious!
I'm at work right now, and I just got off the phone with a caller. She wanted me to take down a web address.
Caller: Here's the address. It's http. What's that after the http? I don't know what it is in English.
Me: Colon.
C: Ok, http, colon, two lines, www.dx...it's not underline, but a line halfway...
M: Hyphen.
C: http, dot, dot, two lines...What are the two lines?
M: Forward slashes.
C: Ok, http, dot, dot, forward 'ashes (slashes), www.dx-xxxxx.com, forward ash.
M: Ok, got it.
C: Can you repeat it to me?
M: www.dx-xxxxxxx.com.
C: No. It starts with "http"...
Goodness. I repeat it for her, letter for letter, punctuation mark for punctuation mark. Mind you, that was the condensed version of the conversation.
Another person called, telling me that she was having trouble faxing a document to our office.
Caller: Is your fax machine on? I've been trying to fax something, and it's not going through.
Me: Yes, it's on.
C: Are you sure?
M: Yes, we've been receiving faxes all day. In fact, I just received one right before you called.
C: Are you sure it's not your fax machine. Ours is a company machine, and there's never anything wrong with it. Maybe if you turn it on and off, it'll work.
M: Well, like I said, there's nothing wrong with fax.
C: I don't understand. Ours is in perfect condition.
M: Can I verify the fax number you are trying to reach?
C: 555-555-5555.
M: I'm sorry, that's not our fax number.
C: Oops! That's my fax number.
Yeah, big OOPS to you.
I'm at work right now, and I just got off the phone with a caller. She wanted me to take down a web address.
Caller: Here's the address. It's http. What's that after the http? I don't know what it is in English.
Me: Colon.
C: Ok, http, colon, two lines, www.dx...it's not underline, but a line halfway...
M: Hyphen.
C: http, dot, dot, two lines...What are the two lines?
M: Forward slashes.
C: Ok, http, dot, dot, forward 'ashes (slashes), www.dx-xxxxx.com, forward ash.
M: Ok, got it.
C: Can you repeat it to me?
M: www.dx-xxxxxxx.com.
C: No. It starts with "http"...
Goodness. I repeat it for her, letter for letter, punctuation mark for punctuation mark. Mind you, that was the condensed version of the conversation.
Another person called, telling me that she was having trouble faxing a document to our office.
Caller: Is your fax machine on? I've been trying to fax something, and it's not going through.
Me: Yes, it's on.
C: Are you sure?
M: Yes, we've been receiving faxes all day. In fact, I just received one right before you called.
C: Are you sure it's not your fax machine. Ours is a company machine, and there's never anything wrong with it. Maybe if you turn it on and off, it'll work.
M: Well, like I said, there's nothing wrong with fax.
C: I don't understand. Ours is in perfect condition.
M: Can I verify the fax number you are trying to reach?
C: 555-555-5555.
M: I'm sorry, that's not our fax number.
C: Oops! That's my fax number.
Yeah, big OOPS to you.
The Little Guitar
Last weekend, Sinta bought an ukulele. Oh, how my eyes lit up when I cradled it in my arm at the music store (as if I can play). In Hawaii, when I was in the sixth grade, playing the ukulele was part of the music program. It's a fun, little instrument, and it's easy to play. I was surprised that I can still remember how to play a couple of songs. Yeah, literally just two songs. Our goal is to teach ourselves how to play, and we've been practicing since we got it. You should see Sinta when he plays--oh, how his eyes light up!
I Wanna See It!!
"Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow" premieres tomorrow!
Last weekend, Sinta bought an ukulele. Oh, how my eyes lit up when I cradled it in my arm at the music store (as if I can play). In Hawaii, when I was in the sixth grade, playing the ukulele was part of the music program. It's a fun, little instrument, and it's easy to play. I was surprised that I can still remember how to play a couple of songs. Yeah, literally just two songs. Our goal is to teach ourselves how to play, and we've been practicing since we got it. You should see Sinta when he plays--oh, how his eyes light up!
I Wanna See It!!
"Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow" premieres tomorrow!
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
Bands Reunited
As I was sitting down with my spaghetti and meatballs dinner tonight, I was flipping through the channels when I chanced upon VH1's "Bands Reunited" featuring New Kids On the Block. I could barely contain my excitement! I've been a fan since I was in the sixth grade. I had their posters, T-shirts, pins, and keychains. I was part of their fan club. I even went as far as typing out the lyrics of all the songs from the "Hangin' Tough" album on our Smith Corona electric typewriter, and binding the pages into a little booklet. Yes, I'm a dork that way. It's too bad Aamer couldn't get them together.
Sometimes, Sinta and I will watch a couple of hours of the "B.R." marathon on Sunday afternoons. Last Sunday we caught The Motels. I didn't know they sang "Only the Lonely". That's the jam.
You know what would be the ultimate "Bands Reunited"?
"No more charades. My heart's been displayed. You found out I got a crush on you."
The Jets!!
As I was sitting down with my spaghetti and meatballs dinner tonight, I was flipping through the channels when I chanced upon VH1's "Bands Reunited" featuring New Kids On the Block. I could barely contain my excitement! I've been a fan since I was in the sixth grade. I had their posters, T-shirts, pins, and keychains. I was part of their fan club. I even went as far as typing out the lyrics of all the songs from the "Hangin' Tough" album on our Smith Corona electric typewriter, and binding the pages into a little booklet. Yes, I'm a dork that way. It's too bad Aamer couldn't get them together.
Sometimes, Sinta and I will watch a couple of hours of the "B.R." marathon on Sunday afternoons. Last Sunday we caught The Motels. I didn't know they sang "Only the Lonely". That's the jam.
You know what would be the ultimate "Bands Reunited"?
"No more charades. My heart's been displayed. You found out I got a crush on you."
The Jets!!
Sunday, September 12, 2004
Saturday, September 11, 2004
On the Home Front
The phone rang this afternoon, and I picked it up. "Hi, Tita!" It was my 3-year-old nephew.
Nico: Hi, Tita Woda! How are you?
Me: I'm fine, Nico. How are you, Sweetie?
Nico: How are you, Tita? How are you? I want to talk to Daddy. I'm mad.
I put him on speaker phone and passed it to my bro.
Lokeliko: Hi, Nico!
Nico: I want to speak to Daddy.
L: This is Daddy. How are you?
N: It's almost your birthday.
L: Yeah. Can you sing "Happy Birthday"?
N: You're old.
My family back home is doing fine. My mom is sort of on the South Beach Diet. From what I know about this diet, it's not a low-carb or a low-fat diet program. Unlike the Atkins diet, carbohydrates are a part of the SB diet. She read in the papers about how American brand names sold out to the Atkins fame, such as Coca-Cola and Hershey's. How ridiculously true. My dad is good, but he has pink eye. Apparently, he caught it from Nico who, two weeks ago, threatened to rub his round eyes and rub his hands on his grandpa's face and eyes...which he did. I can see him chasing my dad around the house with his pudgy, little hands. The munchkin's a troublemaker! An absolute troublemaker!! I wonder where he got that from.
My mom's asking when we're coming home to visit. Some of my old friends ask me as well. It's been more than three years since I last visited the Philippines. Hopefully, we will be able to go sometime next year.
The phone rang this afternoon, and I picked it up. "Hi, Tita!" It was my 3-year-old nephew.
Nico: Hi, Tita Woda! How are you?
Me: I'm fine, Nico. How are you, Sweetie?
Nico: How are you, Tita? How are you? I want to talk to Daddy. I'm mad.
I put him on speaker phone and passed it to my bro.
Lokeliko: Hi, Nico!
Nico: I want to speak to Daddy.
L: This is Daddy. How are you?
N: It's almost your birthday.
L: Yeah. Can you sing "Happy Birthday"?
N: You're old.
My family back home is doing fine. My mom is sort of on the South Beach Diet. From what I know about this diet, it's not a low-carb or a low-fat diet program. Unlike the Atkins diet, carbohydrates are a part of the SB diet. She read in the papers about how American brand names sold out to the Atkins fame, such as Coca-Cola and Hershey's. How ridiculously true. My dad is good, but he has pink eye. Apparently, he caught it from Nico who, two weeks ago, threatened to rub his round eyes and rub his hands on his grandpa's face and eyes...which he did. I can see him chasing my dad around the house with his pudgy, little hands. The munchkin's a troublemaker! An absolute troublemaker!! I wonder where he got that from.
My mom's asking when we're coming home to visit. Some of my old friends ask me as well. It's been more than three years since I last visited the Philippines. Hopefully, we will be able to go sometime next year.
Blah...
I feel guilty. Why? I've been in bed most of the day, I haven't done anything productive except to eat. It started last night when my knee felt hot. Later, it was my left arm. Then my shoulders and back started to burn, but my face was cool and my hands were clammy. This morning, I woke up feeling like crap. Light headedness. A fever that comes and goes. This sucks.
I'm confined to the bedroom. I can hear the squirrels fighting in the trees. I didn't realize that squirrels make this "quaaaaa" sound, much less any kind of sound. I came home from work one afternoon to the "quaaaa" sound from the tree above me in front of our door. I looked up to a gray squirrel looking at me with his beady, little eyes, rubbing his paws together. I seriously thought he was going to jump on my face. I can also hear the neighbor's kids in the pool competing with each other to see who can do the best "canneball", and I can hear the fire engine down the block blowing its sirens going to their first and only call of the weekend. These are the typical neighborhood sounds.
What I've Been Up To
The weather is starting to cool down after about two weeks of 90+ degree heat (up to 104 degrees when Sinta and I were in Sacramento last weekend). I have to admit that it's been nice, especially at night when it's balmy. That's when it's perfect for night drives with the windows rolled down.
I know I haven't blogged about what's going on with me lately. It just seemed like I didn't have anything blog-worthy to write about. I take that back. I just had writer's block. Anyway, I was off for a few days last week because my employers were on vacation. It felt funny being at home on a weekday. I went through a five-day creative phase drawing and sketching in my journal, and even painting again. Yes, painting...but, mind you, I'm just experimenting. A couple of years ago, I took a 2D art class that ended with two submissions of acrylic paintings as our final project. I've never painted prior to that, unless you count finger painting in kindergarten.
Sinta's helping me with my workout. As of now, roller blading's not included in my cardio workout because I can't skate fast enough to keep my heart rate up. I get stiff and nervous. I have a nice nickel-sized scar on my left elbow from a nasty spill. It happened when we were on a badly paved road, and I followed Sinta onto the smooth sidewalk. All of a sudden, THUD! I earned myself a pretty strawberry on my elbow. Another time, we were at Shoreline Park--Sinta jogging, and me roller blading next to him. The path we chose required us to cross a wooden bridge. The bridge was probably no more than 15 feet long, with a very slight grade, but to me it was a mountain! I cruised down the bridge, hit a bump, and started to panic. I totally forgot everything about using my brakes and stopping. Yes, panic rushed in. I noticed a bunch of tall bushes on my left, and instinctively grabbed the branches. THUD! I fell on my fanny. I asked Sinta to pull me along back to the car, as I was shaking from the fall. You know, though, to this day, I feel foolish about that. I have gone out about twice since then. It's the same story each time: I'm nervous and stiff at first, but by the time we reach the apartment, I'm totally comfortable with my blades...until I go out again. But anyway, back to the workout...Sinta's been really good about his. For me, though, we're trying to get me to run at least three times a week, but lately, I've been bad about it. When I leave work around 5:30, it's still hot outside...too hot to run. The weather is starting to cool down, so there really is no excuse for me not to run.
Friday Night
Last night, Sinta and I went to the Great Mall for dinner and a movie. We had sushi that was so-so at Fujisan. Our waitress spoke as if she had a mouthful of saliva. I could barely make out her words. She seemed lazy because, instead of seating us, she pointed to the general area where we could sit at the bar. And when she served our drinks, she set the drinks in front of me to my left, far from Sinta. Someone loves her job.
Our eating didn't stop there. We went to Coldstone for ice cream. Banana ice cream, chocolate fudge, yellow cake chunks, and whipped cream in a waffle cup. That totally hit the spot. Afterwards, we headed to the theatres to catch the 8 o'clock showing for "Without a Paddle". Boo to Century Theatres for not having kettlecorn last night! Anyway, the movie was hilarious; I couldn't stop laughing! It was barely ten when the movie ended. The place comes alive by 10 pm, because when we exited, the teeners and 'tweeners of the South Bay were hanging out. There were mini vans here and there driven my moms and dads, dropping off kids. "I will be here waiting for you at midnight. You better be here." Old people like us have to leave by ten to make way for the young ones. Oh, we're getting old.
I feel guilty. Why? I've been in bed most of the day, I haven't done anything productive except to eat. It started last night when my knee felt hot. Later, it was my left arm. Then my shoulders and back started to burn, but my face was cool and my hands were clammy. This morning, I woke up feeling like crap. Light headedness. A fever that comes and goes. This sucks.
I'm confined to the bedroom. I can hear the squirrels fighting in the trees. I didn't realize that squirrels make this "quaaaaa" sound, much less any kind of sound. I came home from work one afternoon to the "quaaaa" sound from the tree above me in front of our door. I looked up to a gray squirrel looking at me with his beady, little eyes, rubbing his paws together. I seriously thought he was going to jump on my face. I can also hear the neighbor's kids in the pool competing with each other to see who can do the best "canneball", and I can hear the fire engine down the block blowing its sirens going to their first and only call of the weekend. These are the typical neighborhood sounds.
What I've Been Up To
The weather is starting to cool down after about two weeks of 90+ degree heat (up to 104 degrees when Sinta and I were in Sacramento last weekend). I have to admit that it's been nice, especially at night when it's balmy. That's when it's perfect for night drives with the windows rolled down.
I know I haven't blogged about what's going on with me lately. It just seemed like I didn't have anything blog-worthy to write about. I take that back. I just had writer's block. Anyway, I was off for a few days last week because my employers were on vacation. It felt funny being at home on a weekday. I went through a five-day creative phase drawing and sketching in my journal, and even painting again. Yes, painting...but, mind you, I'm just experimenting. A couple of years ago, I took a 2D art class that ended with two submissions of acrylic paintings as our final project. I've never painted prior to that, unless you count finger painting in kindergarten.
Sinta's helping me with my workout. As of now, roller blading's not included in my cardio workout because I can't skate fast enough to keep my heart rate up. I get stiff and nervous. I have a nice nickel-sized scar on my left elbow from a nasty spill. It happened when we were on a badly paved road, and I followed Sinta onto the smooth sidewalk. All of a sudden, THUD! I earned myself a pretty strawberry on my elbow. Another time, we were at Shoreline Park--Sinta jogging, and me roller blading next to him. The path we chose required us to cross a wooden bridge. The bridge was probably no more than 15 feet long, with a very slight grade, but to me it was a mountain! I cruised down the bridge, hit a bump, and started to panic. I totally forgot everything about using my brakes and stopping. Yes, panic rushed in. I noticed a bunch of tall bushes on my left, and instinctively grabbed the branches. THUD! I fell on my fanny. I asked Sinta to pull me along back to the car, as I was shaking from the fall. You know, though, to this day, I feel foolish about that. I have gone out about twice since then. It's the same story each time: I'm nervous and stiff at first, but by the time we reach the apartment, I'm totally comfortable with my blades...until I go out again. But anyway, back to the workout...Sinta's been really good about his. For me, though, we're trying to get me to run at least three times a week, but lately, I've been bad about it. When I leave work around 5:30, it's still hot outside...too hot to run. The weather is starting to cool down, so there really is no excuse for me not to run.
Friday Night
Last night, Sinta and I went to the Great Mall for dinner and a movie. We had sushi that was so-so at Fujisan. Our waitress spoke as if she had a mouthful of saliva. I could barely make out her words. She seemed lazy because, instead of seating us, she pointed to the general area where we could sit at the bar. And when she served our drinks, she set the drinks in front of me to my left, far from Sinta. Someone loves her job.
Our eating didn't stop there. We went to Coldstone for ice cream. Banana ice cream, chocolate fudge, yellow cake chunks, and whipped cream in a waffle cup. That totally hit the spot. Afterwards, we headed to the theatres to catch the 8 o'clock showing for "Without a Paddle". Boo to Century Theatres for not having kettlecorn last night! Anyway, the movie was hilarious; I couldn't stop laughing! It was barely ten when the movie ended. The place comes alive by 10 pm, because when we exited, the teeners and 'tweeners of the South Bay were hanging out. There were mini vans here and there driven my moms and dads, dropping off kids. "I will be here waiting for you at midnight. You better be here." Old people like us have to leave by ten to make way for the young ones. Oh, we're getting old.
Friday, September 10, 2004
...And I Ain't Ashamed To Admit It!
1. I love Sinta!
2. Snacking on kettle corn and cherry coke.
3. Watching "The Newlyweds".
4. Finding out the neighborhood's latest chismis.
5. I like the movies "Can't Hardly Wait" and "Save the Last Dance".
6. Reading "Cosmopolitan" magazine.
7. Vegging on the couch in front of the TV for hours at a time.
8. Playing video games at Dave and Buster's.
9. Stuffing pan de sal with hot dog, scrambled eggs, and ketchup for breakfast. Banana ketchup works, too!
10. Eating toasted peanut butter sandwiches.
11. Admitting to my anal-retentive tendencies.
12. I like stationary and pens.
13. I still like Hello Kitty.
1. I love Sinta!
2. Snacking on kettle corn and cherry coke.
3. Watching "The Newlyweds".
4. Finding out the neighborhood's latest chismis.
5. I like the movies "Can't Hardly Wait" and "Save the Last Dance".
6. Reading "Cosmopolitan" magazine.
7. Vegging on the couch in front of the TV for hours at a time.
8. Playing video games at Dave and Buster's.
9. Stuffing pan de sal with hot dog, scrambled eggs, and ketchup for breakfast. Banana ketchup works, too!
10. Eating toasted peanut butter sandwiches.
11. Admitting to my anal-retentive tendencies.
12. I like stationary and pens.
13. I still like Hello Kitty.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
| Your Icecream Flavour is...Neopolitan! |
 You aren't satisfied with just one flavor. They say variety is the spice of life and this shines through in your Ice cream of choice! Just don't eat all the chocolate and leave the strawberry and vanilla behind! |
Find out at Go Quiz
Sunday, September 05, 2004
Darn Blogger. Now that I'm in the mood to write something, there's something wrong with their site. What a bane to bloggers!
It's 8:44am, Sunday morning. It's early, and yes, I'm wide awake. I'm waiting for my Top Ramen to cook. Sometimes, it's just good to have it in the morning. Maybe I'll actually read the Sunday paper.
It's early in the morning...I'll be napping around noon.
It's 8:44am, Sunday morning. It's early, and yes, I'm wide awake. I'm waiting for my Top Ramen to cook. Sometimes, it's just good to have it in the morning. Maybe I'll actually read the Sunday paper.
It's early in the morning...I'll be napping around noon.
Friday, September 03, 2004
How Was Your Morning?
This morning before work, I went to the lab to have my blood drawn to check my cholesterol and liver. Hungry and sleepy, I sit in the waiting area for about 15 minutes waiting for my turn. Though I'm not fond of needles, I was neither anxious nor nervous, for I've been getting blood draws every three months for the past two years. As I was arranging my receipts in chronological order to be balanced in my checkbook later, the phlebotomist finally calls my name.
She prepares the needle, collection tube and my right arm for the draw. There's no rubber ball to squeeze in my hand, so I have to make a fist instead. It doesn't help that my fingernails dig into my palm.
She taps my arm with two fingers to look for the vein.
Phlebotomist: Pump your fist. (Tap, tap, tap)
She doesn't see it, so she takes a look at my left arm. Tap, tap, tap. She decides to work with my right arm. In goes the needle. Where's the blood?
She pokes and prods under my skin with the needle feeling for that elusive vein of mine.
A minute passes by...literally.
P: I could've sworn I felt it when I tapped your arm. Where did it go? It happens sometimes. Tell me if it hurts.
Me: Doesn't hurt.
Really, it doesn't. She continues to search. It's very rare that I get someone who can find my vein with the first poke of the needle. After another 30 seconds, she finds it.
P: Okay, you can stop pumping your hand.
I relax my hand.
P: Aww, your hand is sweating...
Duh! After what you just did! She cleans my arm and tapes a cotton ball to where she poked the needle. I think I'm traumatized.
P: Have a nice day now!
Thanks.
This morning before work, I went to the lab to have my blood drawn to check my cholesterol and liver. Hungry and sleepy, I sit in the waiting area for about 15 minutes waiting for my turn. Though I'm not fond of needles, I was neither anxious nor nervous, for I've been getting blood draws every three months for the past two years. As I was arranging my receipts in chronological order to be balanced in my checkbook later, the phlebotomist finally calls my name.
She prepares the needle, collection tube and my right arm for the draw. There's no rubber ball to squeeze in my hand, so I have to make a fist instead. It doesn't help that my fingernails dig into my palm.
She taps my arm with two fingers to look for the vein.
Phlebotomist: Pump your fist. (Tap, tap, tap)
She doesn't see it, so she takes a look at my left arm. Tap, tap, tap. She decides to work with my right arm. In goes the needle. Where's the blood?
She pokes and prods under my skin with the needle feeling for that elusive vein of mine.
A minute passes by...literally.
P: I could've sworn I felt it when I tapped your arm. Where did it go? It happens sometimes. Tell me if it hurts.
Me: Doesn't hurt.
Really, it doesn't. She continues to search. It's very rare that I get someone who can find my vein with the first poke of the needle. After another 30 seconds, she finds it.
P: Okay, you can stop pumping your hand.
I relax my hand.
P: Aww, your hand is sweating...
Duh! After what you just did! She cleans my arm and tapes a cotton ball to where she poked the needle. I think I'm traumatized.
P: Have a nice day now!
Thanks.
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