Destiny and Cold Storage

Early yesterday morning, I read Krip Yuson's column in Philippine Star where he mentioned getting himself connected to Destiny cable after Sky dropped Solar Sports and Basketball TV from its line-up following Solar Sports' granting GMA7 exclusive rights to Manny Pacquiao's fight months back. Yuson convinced me Destiny was ok, a question I had long wanted an answer to before getting a connection myself for the love of husband and son who enjoy watching NBA games.

I thought Destiny, like Sky, had 24-hour service. So after calling 187 for its number, I promptly dialed for Destiny but got no answer. I called 187 again (that was a little after 8) to ask for a second number as the first wasn't answering. The operator gave me a second number plus the info that Destiny starts office at 8:30. I patiently waited but wanted to be sure I'd get through early enough as I feared Yuson's article would evoke several calls from disgruntled Sky customers.

My efforts were rewarded. Shortly after 8:30, I dialed Destiny's number, was told I'd get a connection the very same morning at P450 monthly plus P250 for an AC switch so I could switch from Destiny to Sky channels. I got a call from the company and was told they'd be late, around 2 rather than in the morning. I said I'd wait. By 1:30 they were at the gate. Before 2 I had 2 cable connections. Now that's service. No installation charges to boot. Just 3 months advance. And mind you, the signal is much, much better. Hooray for Destiny (412 9685)! The guy I spoke with was Gene Loyola but his real name is Jennifer Loyola. Not kidding. And he's Ilonggo hence the pronunciation? He's male. Very serious. At one point he spoke to his companion in Ilonggo and his clownish companion said, "don't speak to me in English. I cannot understand English." I didn't get the companion's name, but such a jolly being!

***************

When the people from Destiny left, I promptly hied off to Rustan's for some groceries. Near the open freezer of Cold Storage was a made-up attendant of the entity, distinguishable by her aqua apron. She offered me some shells and said they were delicious. I asked, "which is better?" She said both. I didn't get. She offered me squid balls. I asked, "how can you cook it so it doesn't become tough?" She said, "when it's cooked, remove it." I said, "How can you tell if it's cooked?" She answered, "You take a bite!" Whoa. How very enlightening. I couldn't help it so I asked, "You don't cook, right?" With a sheepish smile, she said, "no." I advised her to learn. None of my business, actually, but at the rate she's going, she won't last on the job. What if I were her boss's spy? She'd be jobless by now.

**********************

Unfortunate Food Incidents atbp (at iba pa)

Last week, my son, husband and I ate at a Greek restaurant in a mall. I am deliberately not posting the name as I love the place. Besides which, what happened to me there can happen even at home. Anyway, one of our orders was the clam pasta. This tastes very clean as there's no thick sauce that comes with it. Possibly, just the broth.

After I got some and put this on my plate, before I took a bite, I decided to open some shells, many of which were already half opened. There was one that looked somehow unopened but not much effort was needed to prise it open. When I succeeded, lo and behold, the shell halves contained black stuff. For a while there, I thought is this squid? Rotten clam? Then it occurred to me it might be wet sand. But I don't really know. At first I thought of just separating that shell from the rest but then remembering how seafoods can wreak havoc on one's digestive system, I called a waiter over. At first he simply said he'd remove the ugly looking clams. Then another waiter came and said, "we'll replace it." I agreed. Luckily for them I wasn't in a foul mood because I wasn't too hungry. Otherwise, ... As we were about to leave, at least 3 women from the resto said thank you profusely. The next day, we bumped into one of them and again she greeted me warmly. The explanation: the shells were freshly delivered so they hadn't shed all the dirt. Whoa! That's not far-fetched because Maid A always takes that route whenever I would ask her to cook the clams I had just bought from the grocery. Sometimes, I let her get away with it and say I'll eat the clams at dinner. But when I'm hungry, well, she just has to clean them fast.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Years back I wasn't too lucky. Ordered food from Whistle Stop (for delivery). Was halfway through the fried rice when wow, fried fly. Catatonic. I promptly called them and they replaced it but I never ordered from Whistle Stop again.

Another time, I ordered binagoongang baboy from the neighborhood Pancit ng taga Malabon. What do you know, there was a white, triangular piece that came with it -plastic? porcelain (ceramic)? who knows? Perhaps the saucer fell, broke into pieces, one of which fell into the food being cooked. Or maybe they were hurling saucers at each other?

*************

On another note, as I blogged earlier, I was in the sala the whole morning. From there, I called Dog Bites to ask them to deliver food for my, duh, dog. One thousand pesos, the man answered. I said fine. This usually lasts the dog a little over a month. When the delivery came, I gave the maid P1k. She came back and handed me the sales invoice which read P1220. Grumbling, I said, "they said it was only "P1k", as I got 2 P100 bills. I asked the maid to get P20 in coins from my room. Then it occurred to me to complain.

The one who answered muttered things as I told her (yes, this time a girl answered) the man who took my call earlier said it was P1k. I then asked, "Don't you have the "P1k variety?" She muttered something as I said I'd have it sent back and could she send me the cheaper one? Maid C called the man to take back the sack of dog food. I don't know what portion of the driveway he had reached with the sack perched on his shoulder when he came back and said, "Ma'am, P1k talaga eto. Mali lang yung recibo."
Fishy.

Was that a lie? Was it a deliberate mistake? An innocent one? Had they tried to pull this trick before and succeeded so that they repeated it? Should I give them the benefit of the doubt? Was thinking of reporting them to the owner but these days, I feel very bad when I think of people losing their jobs because life is difficult enough as it is. I think I'll just buy dog food from the grocery next time.

Coffee Prince

1st Shop of Coffee Prince

* Alternative Title: 커피프린스 1호점 / Coffee Prince
* Genre: Comedy, Romance
* Film Date: July, 2007
* Total Videos: 17
* Korea Casts:
Chae Jung Ahn, Choi Il Hwa, Gong Yoo, Kim Ja Ok, Kim Young Ok, Lee Sun Gyun, Yoon Eun Hye
* Description:

The life of Go Eun Chan (Yoon Eun Hye) is not easy; she works many jobs to pay off debts and even gave up her feminine image. Choi Han Kyul (Gong Yoo) is the heir of a big food company, but his grandmother wants him to settle down, so she arranged many dates for him. After Eun Chan bumped into Han Kyul and was mistaken for a boy, Han Kyul decided to hire Eun Chan to be his gay lover in order to avoid the arranged dates. Desperately in need of money, Eun Chan had no choice but to accept. Han Kyul's grandmother also made Han Kyul in charge of a filthy coffee shop in danger of being bankrupt. Eun Chan begged to work at the coffee shop, and not long after, feelings start to spark, except, how would Han Kyul accept his "homosexuality"?

My Opinion:

This is one of the most fun Koreanovelas I've watched. The actors are charming and the story is light and amusing. While it revolves around two persons basically, the other characters aren't idle and are somehow involved in the story too. Quite a refreshing respite from the heavy Filipino telenovelas where there is a lot of screaming, hair pulling, etc.

It is shown every night after Marimar on GMA. But if, like me, you want to watch all of it quick, check out the following link which my son found for me: http://www.mysoju.com/the-1st-shop-of-coffee-prince/. He too has taken to watching it . The site has several other telenovelas and this morning, I started on Spring Waltz. Heard though that it is the last of the Endless Love series, therefore it's depressing.

Whew!

Today is a day of transitions for at least two reasons. I finally submitted all the work I needed to and have been slaving over for the past two months. What a relief. So this morning, I had the room thoroughly cleaned (or so I hope) while I stayed in the sala reading newspapers dating as far back as December. So I didn't read the news pages (they being by now history), just the features. I am not through yet, perhaps it will take me another two days.

The other transition: Maid C has finally left. The other day at 4 pm, I asked if she was ironing the clothes she was supposed to. Her answer, "mangape pa ko". And she looked like she had just awakened. She was getting truly offensive because I guess she knew she was leaving anyway. In the past I had maids whom I'd cry about when they were about to leave. This one's departure makes me feel so free. Her sister and cousin (Maids A and B) were determined to see her go as she had a girlfriend and they were worried because she had suicidal tendencies. IN the past, she supposedly slashed her wrist when her girlfriend left her. Scary.....

So now I have a new Maid C. An unwed mom who got pregnant over a year ago, maybe two years, while she was in my employ. Her paramour was working at our neighbor's office. Will she do a reprise? I hope not. the man refused to marry her. I hope she has since learned her lesson. I like this maid because she's always smiling but she can be too engaging. In fact, a friend of mine whom she accompanied to a restaurant nearby to get dessert said my maid had interviewed her, asking if she had a boyfriend. (the answer was no). this maid can be flirty too. Once a tutee of mine asked, "where's your other maid?" I said "she's gone." They had each other's cell phone number! MY GOOLAI. Maid C is pretty.

oooooooyyyyyyyy miracle. Maid A asked me what I wanted heated for lunch as she was going to the bank. One friend who read my blog said she's sosy for always being at the bank. Wonder if she has a boyfriend there??? Just kidding. Maybe she has lots of money? ooooooooopppppppppppps.

Odd food combinations that work

This morning, the mom of a friend gave me a bottle of bagoong. When she handed it to the maid, she told the maid to tell me that I could eat it with crackers or toasted bread. That floored me. I had always associated bagoong with mangoes or with pork binagoongan. With bread and crackers? That was certainly a novelty. When I tried it out, wow, it was great. Perhaps the idea of combining both was in keeping with eating caviar and crackers? I don't really know. But it's a good combination, promise.

Way back when I was in Talisay, I always had barbecued saba with salted peanuts. Why? The maid got both from the market so to save on trips to the market, I'd ask her to get both for me at the same time. To this day, then, whenever I have one, I look for the other. Being in Manila now, it's not always possible.

Yet another food combination I enjoy is that of chocolate and potato chips. Some people find this odd but I have been vindicated. Bon Appetit in Rustans carried potato chips covered with melted chocolate. See? I also like eating potato chips with dikiam. Honestly.

Maids ... hard to live without them, hard to live with them

Maid A is the cook. Shortly before lunch, she either decides to take a bath, go to the bank or do something that will make her disappear when she is needed. She also works very slowly. One time a cousin ordered pastel de pollo and macaroni. Cousin said she'd get it at 5. When I asked the maid what time she thought we should start, she said 8 a.m. so we can take our time. Heavens.

Maid B. She's the one supposed to know where my things are, medicines included. Once I asked her for Buscopan. She gave me Mucosolvan. I said, "Buscopan." She said, "Sinutab?" Darn. Then this noon, as I was about to eat my Chow King Chao fan which was rather spicy, I asked her for hoisin sauce to go with the recycled roasted duck we had in Spring Moon last Saturday. Maid A as usual was elsewhere (in the bank, I remember). Maid B said, "ketchup?" I said, "Hoisin." The ketchup in sachets from Pizza Hut were on the table so they were the first thing she saw. I said, "in the ref, red cover." She lifted a bottle of Japanese mayonnaise. I said, "Red bottle, hoisin." She showed me teriyaki sauce. After some time, she said there was no hoisin. I told her to check in the ref in the kitchen. After a while she came back with nothing. I texted Maid A in the bank and she said it was in the ref in the room. Meanwhile Maid B was looking in the shelves where we keep the groceries, though I said it should be in the ref. Finally she checked in the ref again. It was there. I asked why she didn't see it the first time. She said she had only looked on the top-most shelf. arrghhhhhhh.

Sometimes I wonder if they annoy me deliberately.

Foibles and "shoplifting" indavertently

Back in college, a Chinese classmate gave me a company pocket diary where I listed stuff to buy. One evening, I was in National Bookstore near Araneta Coliseum and checked the pocket diary. Then I quickly put it back in my maong bag with a Raggedy Ann painted on it. Tandang tanda ko pa. It even had a wooden handle. Why does that memory stand out? Shortly after I put the diary back in my bag, the security guard accosted me. I said "Why?" He said I took something. I promptly opened my bag and he got the red diary. I said, but that's mine and it's been used. He returned it and walked away. No apologies. The maid with me said "you should have told him your Lolo can afford to buy National Bookstore." A gross exaggeration but comforting nonetheless. I was really shaken.

Years later, in my disabled state, my husband and I were choosing belts. The sales clerk gave me quite a number. I put them on my lap where my bag was. See, I can't feel beyond my chest so what happens down there, unless the sensation, okay pain, is intense, I'm clueless about it. (Proof: I used to sit my son on my lap, lots of groceries, etc. People would say they were heavy but I managed to smile. I didn't feel the weight. I just enjoyed having my son on my lap. Earlier, my nephew) Back to Rustan's. We got one belt, paid for it and were on our way out when the metal detector was agitated: tooot tooot tooot. Oops, I thought, my wheelchair has been detected. Then I looked down and lo and behold, under my bag a belt was lurking. I was soooooooooo embarrrrrrrrrrrrrassssssssssssssssssssssseddddddddd. The guard hastily went to me with a smile and said, "Sorry ma'am." Even the cashier and sales clerks smiled at me and said "Sorry." I guess that's Rustan's for you. And maybe it helped that I frequent the place even if only to look around. They thought or at least made me think I wasn't a shoplifter in their eyes. Whew.

If you think that embarrassing experience taught me to be more careful, it hasn't. But the succeeding mishaps have been minor. Except that it would have been interesting if I noted the dates and the places from which I've inadvertently brought home table napkins from restaurants. If my memory serves me right, I once brought out of Kimpura a peach napkin which was the same color as my pants. As I saw this just before I was loaded into the car, when we passed Kimpura, we handed it to the guard with our apologies. He merely smiled. I also brought home a burgundy napkin from I can't remember where, a white one from somewhere else, a beige one from yet another place. Last Saturday, I got one from Spring Moon. Make that I accidentally got one from the restaurant. Weird that I did as it was white, my pants weren't and my bag on top of it was beige. Their waiters weren't looking, I guess. Nice napkin. Had embossed patterns on it. Will I return it? Abangan...

The tale of Banjo and Boston

If I suddenly and mistakenly write Bruno here, it's because Banjo and Boston are barbershops, just like Bruno's. Oh, but now I get it. Bruno's is upscale, located in Power Plant, Banjo's and Boston are in Katipunan-- they both cater to students. Let me correct myself, while Bruno's is in upscale Power Plant, it charges reasonably. The last time my son had a haircut there, I think it cost P120. Not bad for an establishment in Power Plant.

So why am I writing about Boston and Banjo's?

Banjo's has been in Katipunan for a long time now. It was the barbershop of choice of my son and husband. In fact, my husband has a favorite barber in Banjo's. Okay, make that had.

Last Monday, when he came home from the barber's, he said he went to Boston's. Why? His favorite barber had transferred. And think about this. Boston's is on the second floor of the same building where Banjo's is. No zoning regulations here, apparently. Or should that be courtesy at the very least? I asked my husband how he found out that Hermie, his favorite, was in Boston's. A barber in Banjo's had informed my husband. And when he told Hermie this, Hermie said that possibly, it was his brother-in-law who had told my husband. Husband said the manicurist of Banjo's had also transferred to Boston.

Tonight my son came back from the barber's. Still Banjo's. My son has a soft spot in his heart. Outside Banjo's he said, were the former barbers of the shop who were staking out their old clients so they could lead them up to Boston's. How crude and cruel. But my son, like I said, has a soft heart. Seeing that there was but one barber left in Banjo's and despite the fact that by choosing to stay loyal he had to await his turn, he did. He also told me that while he was at Banjo's, the lone barber was interrupted several times by calls from the owner who asked if new barbers had been recruited from the province. My son said he heard there had been. But he also noted that the lone remaining barber also wanted to up and leave.

Banjo and Boston. Their story is nothing new in the Philippines where the crab mentality rules. Sad.

Sadly . . .

The son of a teacher in one unit of the university is graduating from the high school. But he will not study in the college of the same university come June. No, not because his application was rejected, but because of economics. Tuition in the college costs P120,000 per year, more or less. How much does the teacher earn monthly? Maybe P50,000? Sure his son gets a 65-percent discount. But in truth and in fact, make that 50 percent as fees aren't covered by the discount. So do the Math. He has to pay P60,000 for one son in the college. If his take-home pay is P50,000, net of that one son's college tuition and fees would mean a deduction of P5000 monthly. I think he has more than one child so multiply the deduction several times over and what does he have left? So his son will most likely study in the state university where tuition is 1/5 that in the private university. How ironic and truly sad that teachers aren't paid well enough for their sons to enjoy the brand of education in the school where the teachers have shed blood, sweat and tears to educate the children of other people. Oh well, such is life. How I wish this issue could be resolved more humanely, more justly.

In-yo

This restaurant I think I've written about. It was a house converted into a cozy, fine dining, a bit pricey restaurant. It features Fusion cuisine.

Parking is ample inside, with a valet available to do the chores. He's not clad the way hotel valets are but he's okay. Sorry I failed to take pictures of the facade but next time I will.

There are tables outside under trees with vines cascading downwards.


It's cool enough in the evenings but I don't exactly imagine enjoying a meal there at lunch, though some do. Just before the doorway is a fishpond littered with koi. Reminds me of my childhood when we had some of these but referred to them as goldfish. hahaha. Now they're known as carp or koi. Cool.



I was earlier than my two friends but it didn't occur to me to take pictures which I should have done. The tabletops are perched on top of the legs of old sewing machines. The waiter gave me a round stool, or so I thought, for laying my bag on. I didn't accept his offer. I should have taken a picture of that too.

Anyway, when they finally came, we ordered Oysters Rockefeller. In one shell were two oysters (mutants? just kidding) slathered with melted cheese, topped with orange fish roe. There was a leaf inside, I think basil. But I'm no expert so I could be wrong. Six shells were neatly arranged on top of a bed of rock salt. Wonder if they dispose or recycle the salt. See picture somewhere on this page. Hopefully, below or beside this paragraph.



We also ordered oven poached lapu-lapu. When it came it was engulfed (buried?) in a blanket of suspended foil. I should have taken its picture thus, but I didn't think quickly enough. When the waiter opened the "package", it revealed a shallow bowl of filleted lapu-lapu swimming in clear broth along with some pechay leaves, slices of Chinese chorizo and shiitake mushrooms. Very healthy. Oh, and there were a few clams as well. My friend put two lapu-lapu fillets on my small plate, one chorizo slice, several mushroom slices, one clam and one pechay leaf. again very healthy. not very tasty, but healthy.



we also ordered what I ordered the last time: something like US tender hanging blade. I'm not sure about the exact wording or the sequence of the words. Sounds like it anyway. We asked that the beef be cooked medium well (my friend did; i'd have preferred medium rare). The beef slices were perched against very yummy mushroom risotto along with broccoli, cauliflower, carrots and alfalfa sprouts. I really like this dish so much I may not order differently next time we're in In-yo. Luckily my companions (friends or family) are adventurous, so I get to taste the other entrees in the restaurant.


And because I subscribe to what Gail Gand says "there's always room for dessert" I asked my friends what we should order. i'd have enjoyed the creme brulee or the mango pavlova but someone said we might try the pannacotta. So we did. It was served with very small slices of fruits like grapes, strawberry, green apples, pineapple. Atop the pannacotta was an egg roll (barquillos) shaped like a crescent moon, like in the Muslim flag. Here it is somewhere...



In-yo makes a lot of effort to present everything beautifully. The food they serve look like paintings. This explains why when we eat out and order dessert in other restaurants I get disappointed when the cake plate only has a cake and no art work whatsoever. In-yo has educated me to expect only the best...or at least, pretty entrees.

I almost forgot. My friend ordered a drink which claimed to warm the stomach and melt I forgot what (so she thought it might help her arthritis). It's called apple crumble and here is how it was presented.

We're Lost! and how Globe Find helped

Last Saturday, my son and the group to which he belongs sang at a wedding in Greenhills. He drove himself and found his way to the church easily. We didn't hear from him until after the mass when he called my cell and said, "Ma, we're lost! Can you locate us?"

This is not a commercial for Globe but may well sound like one. You see, a year or so ago I registered in Globe Find after a mom told me of how impressed she was when her son went to Bacolod and she located him in Robinson's. She also told me of how the same feature of GLobe helped locate a friend of her husband's whose relative had passed away. The tracker said the friend was in Eastwood.

So hastily, I enrolled my son with his permission. If he hadn't sad yes, I'd have coerced him. I registered my husband too but as his phone is Smart and I have since not used my Smart phone, I cannot track him any longer. Hmmmmmmmmm. But that's another story.

Back to Saturday. Before my son called, I had tracked him because I wanted to know if they were out of Greenhills. What I found out through GLobe was that he was still in Greenhills. So when he called and I said, "You're in Greenhills," he said, "no we aren't. That was earlier." So I decided to text "Find..." to 7000 again, and this time, it said he was in Sta. Mesa, near Stop and Shop. He was supposed to have headed for Promenade in Greenhills, across (though diagonally) from the church. Bayani and his NO U-TURNS.

My husband was alarmed, "they're so far away."

I said, "please relax and just help him." So they talked, put down the phone so my son could park the car somewhere so they could talk again and my husband could give him directions. To cut a long story short, things worked out and when I next tracked my son, he was where he should be.

Okay, sometimes, the system has glitches. How do i know? Sometimes, out of mere curiosity, (though it costs Php5 per find) I'd have my son found within a few minutes of each other and though he'd have moved by then to another place, the answer would still be the same. Sometimes too, the location given is a bit off but I guess, within a certain radius of where he actually is. Thankfully, though, when the correct info was most needed, Globe delivered. Thanks, Globe.

*************

This is not about my son anymore but about a nephew. He works in Ortigas and was on his way to the Scout areas or somewhere. He missed a U-turn, decided to turn somewhere and ended in Makati. Darn Bayani. So my nephew decided to go home to Loyola instead of going to the party with his friends in the Scout area.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

One time we were at the Acropolis clubhouse. We wanted to go to Omakase which was across the entrance of Acropolis subdivision. But no thanks to bayani, we had to travel maybe a kilometer or so and back so we could get to Omakase. Bayani doesn't believe in energy conservation, I guess.

DId you know that... I didn't

Advent or Christmas ends not on the Feast of the Magi but on the baptism of Jesus. All these years, I thought the Feast of the Three Kings meant the last day of Christmas, so I was amazed a few days back when I noticed that our parish church still had a creche and during Communion, the recorded music played was a Christmas song. Yesterday, our parish priest clarified during his homily that it's the baptism of Jesus that marks the end of Christmas. He then challenged, how many of you know when you were baptized? Do you celebrate it?

Yes I do... My baptismal date is my father's birthday and I always hear mass on that day. My son's baptismal day was deliberately chosen too: the birthday of my brother, so I also hear mass on that day. But of course I didn't volunteer that information to the priest.

Sweeping generalizations do not work all the time.

*************
On another note:

Last Friday, I heard mass in our parish church. I usually sit beside a wall at the back of the church like a publican. I am self-effacing, shy, yes, but the primary reason for my deciding to stay where I do is that when the electric fan is on, I am lucky to be a recipient of its cool air. And last Friday was no exception. As I sat in my usual post before the mass, an American-looking Jesuit passed by. He nodded "Good evening" and I smiled back. I thought he'd say the mass but he didn't. At the end of the mass, I saw him go out the door beside my wall. He stopped by to ask, "how are you?" And then he added, "All throughout the mass I was beside you from that room." I think the priest was Fr. Greene. But I'm not sure. Years back, a lot of years back, he was heftier. If that indeed was he, he looked a lot thinner but had the same wise-looking eyes. Like an owl's? No, but like a person's with wisdom.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Sometimes I hesitate to hear mass in our parish church because except for the center communion aisle, the others are narrow especially at the back. Or sometimes, the aisle where I could turn to go back to the seat is narrow. At the center I could make a u-turn in my wheelchair but delay people behind me in the process. Remember, two priests before told me I should receive communion last? Darn.

***********************

One of my maids is leaving end-month. Will I miss her? Maybe her filosofo answers. One time, on a Sunday, I asked her about the barong I had dry-cleaned. She said in the vernacular: "The receipt says Saturday but the girl who issued it said it will be ready Monday." Duhhhhhhhh... What a cop-out.

Got this from our egroup. It's funny to say the least...

>
>
> APPLICATION FOR PERMISSION TO DATE MY DAUGHTER
>
> NOTE: This application will be incomplete and rejected unless accompanied by a complete financial statement,
> job history, lineage, and current medical report from your doctor.
>
> NAME________ _________ _________ _________ __ DATE OF BIRTH_______ ______
>
> HEIGHT____ _______ WEIGHT______ ______ IQ__________ GPA_________ ____
>
> SOCIAL SECURITY #___________ ______ DRIVERS LICENSE #___________ _____
>
> BOY SCOUT RANK AND BADGES______ _________ _________ _________ _________
>
> HOME ADDRESS_____ _________ _________ CITY/STATE__ _________ ZIP______
>
> Do you have parents? ___Yes ___No
> Is one male and the other female? ___Yes ___No
> If No, explain: ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ ____
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ ___
>
> Number of years they have been married ____________ _________ _________
>
> If less than your age, explain
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ _____ ____________ _________ ___
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ __
>
>
> ACC ESSORIES SECTION:
>
> A. Do you own or have access to a van? __Yes __No
>
> B. A truck with oversized tires? __Yes __No
>
> C. A waterbed? __Yes __No
>
> D. A pickup with a mattress in the back? __Yes __No
>
> E. A tattoo? &n bsp; __Yes __No
>
> F. Do you have an earring, nose ring, &nbs p; __Yes __No
> pierced tongue, pierced cheek or a belly button ring?
>
> (IF YOU ANSWERED 'YES' TO ANY OF THE ABOVE, DISCONTINUE APPLICATION
> AND LEAVE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY. I SUGGEST RUNNING.)
>
>
> ESSAY SECTION:
>
> In 50 words or less, what does 'LATE' mean to you?
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _____
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _____
>
> In 50 words or less, what does 'DON'T TOUCH MY DAUGHTER' mean to you?
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _ ____
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ ____ ____________ _______
>
> In 50 words or less, what does 'ABSTINENCE' mean to you?
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _____
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _____
>
>
> REFERENCES SECTION:
>
> Church you attend ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ ___
>
> How often you attend ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________
>
> When would be the best time to interview your:
>
> father? ____________ _
>
> mother? ____________ _
>
> pastor? _________ ____
>
>
> SHORT-ANSWER SECTION:
>
> Answer by filling in the blank. Please answer freely, all answers
> are confidential.
>
> A: If I were shot, the last pl ace I would want shot would be:
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _____
>
> B: If I were beaten, the last bone I would want broken is my:
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _____
>
> C: A woman's place is in the:
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _____
>
> D: The one thing I hope this application does not ask me about is:
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _____
>
> E. What do you want to do IF you grow up? ____________ _________ ______
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _____
>
> ; ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _____
>
> F. When I meet a girl, the thing I always notice about her first is:
>
> ____________ _________ _________ ___ ____________ _____ ____________
>
> F. What is the current going rate of a hotel room? ____________ ______
>
> I SWEAR THAT ALL INFORMATION SUPPLIED ABOVE IS TRUE AND CORRECT TO
> THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH, DISMEMBERMENT,
> NATIVE AMERICAN ANTI TORTURE, CRUCIFIXION, ELECTROCUTION, CHINESE
> WATER TORTURE, RED HOT POKERS, AND HILLARY CLINTON KISS TORTURE.
>
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _________ _________ _________
> Applicant's Signature (that means sign your name, moron!)
>
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _ ____________ _________ _________ __
> Mother's Signature ; Father's Signature
>
> ____________ _________ _________ _ ____________ _________ _________ __
> Pastor/Priest/ Rabbi ; State Representative/ Congressman
>
> Thank you for your interest, and it had better be genuine and non-sexual.
> Please allow four to six years for processing.
>
> You will be contacted in writing if you are approved. Please do not try to call or write (since you probably can't, and it would cause you injury).
> If your application is rejected, you will be notified by two gentleman wearing white ties carrying viol in cases. (you might watch your back)
>
> To prepare yourself, start studying Daddy's Rules for Dating< /SPAN> .
>
>
>
> Daddy's Rules for Dating
> Your dad's rules for your boyfriend (or for you if you're a guy) :
>
> Rule One:
> If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking any thing up.
>
> Rule Two:
> You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them..
>
> Rule Three:
> I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers s ecurely in place to your waist.
>
> Rule Four:
> I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a 'Barrier method' of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.
>
> Rule Five:
> It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is: 'early.'
>
> Rule Six:
> I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with m y little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.
>
> Rule Seven:
> As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process than can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge . Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
>
> Rule Eight:
> The foll owing places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing< /FONT> or holding hands. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual themes are to be avoided; movies which feature chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.
>
> Rule Nine:
> Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, baldi ng, middle-aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, t he whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.
>
> Rule Ten:
> Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi . When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit the car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and ea rly, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.
>

Odds and ends

Blogs back, I wrote of the Marks and Spencer blouse I bought for an engagement party where, to my consternation and I'll bet hers too, a classmate was wearing a similar blouse. Here's a picture of the said blouse. It has a matching sash, maybe an inch and a half wide. Doesn't look like much in this picture but when one sees it in the store, one swoons. Maybe they iron better?




Then here's a picture of the first thing I read every Sunday in the Inquirer. It's a lot of fun. It has a part "... and why we're moved, if we're moved." Showbiz gossip is so entertaining and so are the writers.


I also like reading the column of Lydia Castillo in the magazine of Philippine Star and Margaux Salcedo's in the Sunday Inquirer magazine. Sometimes, all the articles in the latter are worth reading. But I haven't read yesterday's yet. Have had no time. Maybe within the week.



There are days when I cannot read the newspaper. Okay, make that several days in a row. So the pile goes higher and higher, one would think I was having a newspaper drive in the room. Dust galore. One of these days, I'll take a picture of the pile. It's not so bad now, it was worse weeks ago. And to think I buy only 4 days a week: Thursday to Sunday. Thursdays I buy because of the articles on food, Friday because I like reading Kinny Salas (sometimes I get The Inquirer only) and Jessica Zafra. Saturdays has Barbara Gonzales and real estate features. Still dreaming of getting my own place, haha. Sundays of course, the magazines, Lucy Torres and occasionally, Jim Paredes. I only read the opinion writers sometimes because usually they have something bad/sad to say. I'd rather be happy.

Here's a bonus (?%&*#). Our Christmas picture. My son's very happy that the maid took the shot with the ball looking like it's levitating. Notice the Christmas tree on my blouse? That was given by a doctor friend who has enough to last a month. I asked if her patients noticed, she said the nurses did. She has pins for elegant occasions and a lot for everyday use. So she gave me the Christmas tree which has a small light bulb that flickers when provoked. Kidding, when invoked. The picture should have had a golden reindeer but the maid wasn't able to focus correctly. (she took one without the reindeer but I looked like I had a triple (not just double chin) Look at how serious my husband looks. He always does when the maid takes the picture. There were others where he looked even more tense.


We didn't have a photo taken against the Christmas tree because positioning ourselves near it would have been like going through a war zone: my sons keyboard, some chairs, boxes, etc. This coming December, I'll take a picture to show what I mean.

Oh and by the way, the ball came from my son's friend who survived the accident by assuming a fetal position. he himself doesn't like playing basketball but joins the group for company. Cute of him to give such a well thought-out present, no? Wonder what Joey would have gotten my son if he were still alive. Fruit-based cake? Some Christmases ago, he texted to ask me if my son had Jobim bossa style. So that's what he gave my son that Christmas.

A Taste of Heaven. No, make that glimpses of heaven

Last Saturday, my husband and I were in Power Plant. As we wheeled along R2, suddenly, a man stopped us on our tracks from behind. Panting he said, "Pumasa si Carlo sa UP." Initially, I had to stop and think who he was. His face was all flushed and it was one I don't always see. But he ran after us with that great news regarding his son. And we were very happy with him, for him, his son and the family. I was particularly touched that he considered us such good friends, family even, so that he felt he had to share the happy news with us, believing we'd be so happy for them. And we were.

Surely, that was one proud and happy father we saw there. It felt so edifying to experience a victory vicariously, all over again.


(the father I wrote about is the brother of two siblings we are close to: a priest and his sister. The family is a very welcoming one and any member's friend becomes the family's friend. I hope you get the drift?)
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Prior to going to Power Plant, a sister asked if we would be in Makati during the weekend. I told him we'd be going. Then, when we were in Power Plant, before I could even text her, she texted to ask if we were there already. Some time later, she texted back to say she had some Yoku Moku cookies for me.

If you read an earlier blog of mine, I had swooned about those cookies, which I first tried before a lauriat after a Chinese friend was laid to rest on the ground. (days before he had been cremated after a weeklong wake in a coffin). Then, when this same sister went to Japan, I had asked her to get Yoku Moku cookies for me, offering to pay for them because I had been warned by a Japanese professor that they were expensive. My sister didn't charge me for the lovely tin of double chocolate Yoku Moku cookies she brought. They were heavenly. We ate those cookies sparingly because we knew we might never, ever get a chance to have them again. They are not available in the Philippines. Thus, when she said she had new cookies again, I decided to consume the rest in the old tin and saw 3 pieces when I got home. hahaha. enjoy.


Anyway, back to the story.

So when my sister texted she had some to share, my taste buds grew excited. But not until I took the first bite after dinner in a CHinese restaurant did I relive the experience of biting into it. I just had to say to my husband after I took the first bite, "This tastes like heaven," while handing him the bigger portion of what remained. This time around, the cookies came in several flavors, mostly nut-based: macadamia, almond, etc. Of the lot she gave, we've shared just two: my husband, son and I. And that's not even one each. Or maybe my son also ate one by himself?

The new batch of cookies were wrapped in red, blue, yellow and green plastic wraps with Christmas designs. Very spare designs as only the Japanese can, so very elegant in their simplicity.

The Epiphany

Picture of the Epiphany is from: http://img.villagephotos.com/p/2004-2/653261/3Kings.jpg

The entry in http://encarta.msn.com/dictionary_1861608848/epiphany.html defines epiphany thus:

e·piph·a·ny [ i píffənee ] (plural e·piph·a·nies)


noun
Definition:

1. sudden realization: a sudden intuitive leap of understanding, especially through an ordinary but striking occurrence
It came to him in an epiphany what his life's work was to be.

2. appearance of god: the supposed manifestation of a divine being

[Early 17th century. See Epiphany]

ep·i·phan·ic [ èppə fánnik ] adjective

All these years, I thought epiphany meant The Feast of the 3 Kings. Dumb, dumb, dumb. It was my son who opened my eyes when he asked, Mama, does epiphany mean sudden realization? I looked it up in the dictionary and said yes.

Today's Gospel was on the 3 Kings, the Epiphany, it being 6 January. The priest in the Church of the Gesu, Fr. Ted Gonzalez, SJ said the 3 kings had their epiphany after they visited Jesus in Bethlehem. The gospel goes:

Matthew 2:1-12

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage." When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, "In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: 'And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.'" Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage." When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

But the epiphany of the 3 Kings, as Fr. Ted explained it, goes beyond their traveling back through another route because of their dream. It was not a mere traveling on foot but an active realization to change the path of their lives.

Fr. Ted said in our lives, we experience several earth-shaking epiphanies, not just one. He said our lives have various turning points and we shouldn't be deluded into thinking that after an epiphany, life will proceed smoothly thereafter, because it won't. Life consists of a series of epiphanies, eye-openers, what have yous. How absolutely true.

Mind Trick Lyrics

Mind Trick Lyrics
Artist(Band):Jamie Cullum

I missed the opportunity
to get you babe to stay with me.
Never thought, I'd regret the excuses that I've made
like a song, it will fade

If there's music in the night,
And it's really, really right,
It's the only thing I need.
it intoxicates your mind
All your troubles left behind
So come on and take my lead.
it's not just me who feels it
music plays a mind trick
watch me forget about missing you

so i put my feelings out to dry
love, one day again,
i'll have to try.
falling out, making up
it seems such a silly game
why do i never gain?

If there's music in the night,
And it's really, really right,
It's the only thing I need.
it intoxicates your mind
All your troubles left behind
So come on and take my lead.
it's not just me who feels it
music plays a mind trick
watch me forget about missing you

na na na's

If there's music in the night,
And it's really, really right,
It's the only thing I need.
it intoxicates your mind
All your troubles left behind
So come on and take my lead.
it's not just me who feels it
music plays a mind trick
watch me forget about missing you

Boys and Men

A book entitled Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus is a much-touted book but one I've never read. The title speaks for itself: the male and the female species are as disparate as can humanly be possible.

Just the other night, a friend and I were talking about the idea and were laughing about it when she said something to the effect that the Mars and Venus bits are relative to their distance from the sun. I said, "not from the earth?" I was thinking in terms of being detached from reality. Then I said, maybe it should be men are from Pluto and women from Mercury. That's why many husbands frustrate their wives. They take many things for granted which same things women value or are sensitive about or to. The same goes for moms and their sons.

Let me give a concrete example.

Yesterday would have been Joey's 19th birthday. His parents for the first time celebrated the event with the class. When Joey was around, he'd give money P50, I think, to his classmates during recess to buy what they wanted. That would constitute his birthday treat. How novel, no?

Anyway, back to yesterday, so the parents of Joey texted and emailed the classmates and their parents and friends to come to a kite-flying party. Someone had dreamt that was what Joey wanted (I think I mentioned this in a previous blog). As the afternoon wore one, my son said, "Want to join us? We'll sing happy birthday for Joey." So we promptly went to where tables were laden with food, a birthday cake included. The boys sang on benches were Joey used to hang out before a Dulaang Sibol show. In fact he has pictures attesting to that.

After the sang, the mom explained why the request that everything sing, to us, a small group of moms huddled around her. She said that a blog of Joey said something to the effect that on his 18th birthday, his parents didn't sing him Happy Birthday. She sadly recalled that, in the past when they'd sing for him, he'd brush them aside, implying they should stop, it was corny, etc. But deep down, after all, he missed it when they decided not to sing for him. oh boy...

Men -- they bottle up how they feel, they pretend they don't feel. They do, after all...

Picture attached is of the kite we brought. It's supposed to be a bat which looks so miniscule. You might need binoculars to see it. The bigger kites refused to take off. There wasn't much wind. I'll post the picture later.

Here it is. Look for the kite. It's between twigs. It looks like a speck in the sky, but at least it flew. The bigger kites didn't or dropped off after a few seconds. Our kite looked so third world because it was small and black, but small can be beautiful. Hahaha. Rationalizing.






Oh, okay, somewhere else in this blog entry is another picture of the bat kite in the sky. It's more evident, right?

Values, Moral Standards - Should they be compromised?

Time and again, a few persons in my circle have expressed "You are too conservative, too old-fashioned, too strict." They follow this up with a shake of their heads. But I remain firm. Not even for the sake of being popular do I pretend to change my mind. Then yesterday, I read the following passage or exchange of ideas of Wilson and Noah, from Nicholas Sparks' The Wedding. Wilson is Noah's son-in-law. It goes:

"Hello, Noah," but instead of responding with his usual greeting, he turned toward me with a look of incredulity.

"C'mere," he said, motioning toward me, 'you won't believe what they're showing right now."

I moved into the room. "What are you watching?"

"I don't know," he said, still focused on the screen. "Some kind of talk show. I thought it would be like Johnny Carson but it's not. You can't imagine what they're talking about."

My mind immediately conjured up a series of vulgar programs, the kind that always made me wonder how their producers could sleep at night. Sure enough, the station was one of them. I didn't need to know the topic to know what he'd seen;for the most part they all featured the same disgusting topics, told as luridly as possible by guests whose single goal, it seemed, was to be on television, no matter how degraded they degraded they were made to look.

"Why would you choose a show like that?"

"I didn't even know it was on," he explained, "I was looking for the news, then there was a commercial and this came on. And when I saw what was going on, I couldn't help but watch. It was like staring at an accident on the side of the highway."

I sat on the bed beside him. "That bad?"

"Let's say I wouldn't want to be young these days. Society's going downhill fast, and I'm glad I won't be around to see it crash."

I smiled, "You're sounding your age, Noah."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

****************

My take on the statement: oftentimes, when people say I'm too conservative and old-fashioned, I start to wonder whether indeed I am. It is very unsettling to be accused of that because it makes me feel Jurassic. But somehow, I stand (or okay, sit firm, stay pat) on my beliefs and now, I have a counter statement if I hear myself being accused of being old-fashioned, "Maybe, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

Old-fashioned values and moral standards reflect a deep sense of respect for oneself and the people one deals with. They did not, do not denigrate a person. Is that wrong? Does that make them any less worthy of being observed? Lived by? Methinks they aren't.

Reading that exchange in a fairly modern author's work (the book as published in 2003) surprised me a bit. Nicholas Sparks is popular, having written the much read The Notebook.

My wedding ninang get-up

In an earlier post you saw my blouse. Two posts ago, you saw my sandals as ninang (T Studio). Below are my blouse with the pants I wore and the bag I used. The bag is also from T Studio which has stuff in Rustan's though it has a stand alone store in Power Plant.

Inay by Arnel Aquino, SJ

My son recorded this song so i'm posting the lyrics here so I can sing along with him when I listen to him. Got the lyrics from: http://www.hangad.org/pages.old/ministry/recordings/songs.php?action=viewsong&song_id=00027
Got the image from papemelroti website: http://www.papemelroti.com/1-1180.jpg

Inay

Sa mahinahong paalam ng araw
Sa pag-ihip ng hanging kahapunan
Balabal ko'y init ng 'yong pag-ibig
Sa dapit-hapong kay lamig

Mga bituin kay agang magsigising
Umaandap, mapaglaro man din
Iyong ngiti hatid nila sa akin
Sa diwa ko't panalangin

Puso ko'y pahimlayin Inay
Upang yaring hamog
Ng gabing tiwasay
Ay madama ko bilang damping
Halik ng 'yong Anak
Ay! Irog kong inay

Sa palad niyo itago aking palad
Aking bakas sa inyong bakas ilapat
At iuwi sa tahanan kong dapat
Sa piling ng inyong Anak

Puso ko'y pahimlayin Inay
Upang yaring hamog
Ng gabing tiwasay
Ay madama ko bilang damping
Halik ng 'yong anak
Ay! Irog ko, O Ina kong mahal
Ay! Irog kong Inay

We have addressed our Blessed Mother by several names, a few of which sound terribly foreign to us. But how often have we addressed her by her name Inay?

Through the years, Filipino composers in different local languages have written kundimans and folk songs speaking of our mothers as inay or nanay. The address itself evokes an intimacy that remains very native to us Filipinos. It evokes a certain comfort in poverty, a certain peace in times of calamity. It evokes an image of Inay waiting for us to come home after a long day, in order to calm the quickening in our hearts so that in peace, she can lead us to her Son.

- Arnel Aquino, SJ

My Sandals - Indulge Me

Indulge me. When I could walk, I enjoyed wearing heeled sandals, especially the flesh colored ones. they were flattering to the feet. I liked in particular those that closed around the ankle. Even as early as Grade 6, I had favorite adult-looking shoes which I liked wearing with my maong or corduroy mini-skirts. Okay, I liked dressing up, I still do.

Just before I was paralyzed, I had aching knees and feet that would suddenly have cramps, so I resorted to flats, which I bought in several colors. They had tiny leather ribbons on top and looked like ballet shoes, not the pointe, just the regular ballet flats. My sandals were no higher than two inches by then.

Then I was paralyzed. Initially I bought shoes that had heels but then as I no longer had control of my feet, the right foot especially would lie on its side and it was unsightly. Occasionally, I'd get shoes that were flat but as these didn't have straps, they'd shoot out of my foot and up (not that high naman) in the air when my feet became spastic or suddenly tiptoed involuntarily. In fact, during my wedding, I think a shoe came of. Shades of Cinderella, except that the prince charming who picked it up was my neurosurgeon cum godparent.

So lately, I've resorted to flat, strapped sandals. Initially I had sandals that had complex designs like banig on top and sometimes my toenails which the maid would sometimes forget to cut would be caught in them. So twice, I had blackened big toes that... do I go into details? I don't want to, I'm queasy about such things. Suffice it to say, those two nails grew back, thanks God.

And so here are my sandals. The gold one is from T Studio at Rustan's. I bought it for my wedding ninang get-up which explains why it's gold. The black pair with white beads I had made to order at Lila Almario's in Power Plant. Shop is no longer there though. I think I ordered them to wear to formal occasions with my black silk (?) pants. The rest are Grendha sandals which aren't only soft and light, but cost the least. The Grendha sandals are available in Shoe Salon. They have other nice designs, one in particular which I liked had sequins and looked very feminine. Except that these had a strap just below (across) the toes, and garters crossing at the ankle. My feet might not survive in them. But they looked really good when I saw a lady wearing them. Sigh.

My sandals:


T Studio







Grendha



Lila Almario (when my sister's friend saw this, she told my sister, "Taray naman ng sandals ng sister mo." She even took a picture of me in them.)
One of these days, if I have reason to, I want to try Solea sandals. They also look good. But that will be a long time from now. I'm happy with what I have now.

Oh yes, when CROCS first came out and I read such favorable write-ups on them, I wanted to buy myself a pair. So we went off to Rustan's where when I saw the Crocs' uneven surface, I thought this might damage the skin of my feet. Husband said to wear socks with them but I thought these wouldn't look nice on me. So he and my son ended up buying CROCS for themselves. And I just looked at them enviously. Sigh. I wanted to look like Mario Batali or Paul Huang, chef's both with orange versions. Just kidding about looking like them, haha.

Random Musings

Last night, we went to a funeral parlor. That is my husband and his co-teacher did while I stayed in the car. Why? The deceased was in a second floor chapel, the funeral parlor didn't have an elevator. Why? Who knows?

Once when we condoled with a friend whose dad had died, he had to come down so I could talk to him. I wasn't particularly close to last night's bereaved relative, a co-teacher of my husband, so I stayed in the car. The parking lot was full of rocks, besides, so it would have been a bumpy trip to the funeral parlor.

Anyway, as I sat on the front seat of the car, I wondered if anyone saw me and thought I was a ghost. I mean, why would anyone stay inside a parked car in a funeral parlor? I wanted to take pictures but people might be alarmed: a flash coming from a parked car. Ghost na talaga yon.

So what did I do? I tried to pray the rosary but there were so many distractions. Fire truck sirens blared, for one. My thoughts also distracted me from prayer.

Was there any danger I'd die of asphyxiation? My husband opened the window by the driver's seat a bit so oxygen would filter into the car for me. No danger of carbon monoxide poisoning as he didn't leave the aircon on. For a while I frantically searched for my fan as I knew I could have had an asthma attack because of the heat, but thank God, I was all right. I waited some 30 minutes. It's not the first time I've done this.


PS: I think it's silly that the said funeral parlor has no elevator. This means that when they have to bring the dead up or down the stairs, manual labor is employed. Calls to mind Tito, Vic and Joey, maybe even Dolphy movies when the dead is accidentally spilled on the ground while being transported. What if someone carrying the coffin misses a step? Comedy...
*********************************

Saw Rene Saguisag in Serendra. He looked wan, lonely and sad. I guess it must be true what they've said: he really loved his wife. She who passed away in a vehicular accident some weeks back. Rene didn't look at all well.

***********************************
Two days ago, my sister marveled at an Henares boy who's based in the States and is actively participating in the Spelling Bee. When she mentioned that the Lola was a Jalbuena, it called to mind a story when I was teaching 27 years ago. You see, the said Lola was the principal's secretary and one of her tasks was to type the exam questions. The English teacher told us that whenever her prepared exam had a section where the students were supposed to correct errors in a sentence, she had to review the typed version well as the secretary would sometimes correct the errors. So this feat of her grandson comes as no surprise. It's in the genes.
**************************************

Getting a passport or government service in the Philippines is one for the books. My son embarked on getting one yesterday, but before he left for the Department of Foreign Affairs, I called up the trunk line to ask up till when applications could be made. The operator said, 2 pm.

So my husband and son left for the DFA. They were there before 2 but the guard told them, the applications were closed at 12. When I learned about this, I called DFA and this time the operator still said 2. I said, so why did they close at 12? He said, why don't you call this number and complain there? As far as I know it's 2. I scolded him saying you should know how to answer questions because it's quite a long drive from Quezon City to Roxas Boulevard. After some time, I decided to give the operator a rest and took up his suggestion to call the other number. Phone just rang and rang and rang. So I tried the other trunk line number. The operator manning the said line was better informed. He said as there were so many applicants, they closed the gates at 12. Just like that, they closed the gates at 12. Darn.

So I called Teleserv via which one can apply for a passport by phone but at 3 times the cost. Where weeks back I was told an NBI clearance was optional, the operator who answered me yesterday they were requiring it because some verifiers at DFA insisted on it. Also, where before I was told the driver's license which Teleserv needed had to be the original form, this time she said they decided a xerox copy would do. How's that for consistency?

When my husband arrived, I had him call Teleserv just so we could firm up the requirements. The one who answered his call said the NBI clearance wasn't necessary. My head was spinning from the crossed information we were getting yesterday.

******************************

The NBI clearance. When I learned of the need for an NBI clearance, I called my son to go to city hall to get one while they were still on the road. So they went to the NBI. After some time he texted, "mama, I wasn't cleared!" I asked what crime he had committed, oh okay, what crime his namesake had committed, he said he didn't know. Crazy no? The NBI saw he had a different middle name from the lawbreaker plus a different address, but he wasn't cleared. Family name too common, he was told. So he'll have to go back to the NBI for his clearance on 14 January. Years back, when my husband applied for a police clearance, he wasn't cleared either. A namesake was listed as a criminal.

**************************

Thank God for online translators

The comment to the blog previous to this was in a foreign tongue. I shared it with my husband and son and they said it was possibly in Portuguese. The comment was flattering but earlier, I had already accessed the said site and while the comment sounded flattering and like it came from one person, when I checked it was an Internet site. So somehow, there appeared something wrong there. Something incongruous.

True enough, when I had the comment translated in babelfish as my son suggested, it was very complementary. We then went to the site to copy a portion of it for translation and true enough, it was an internet site offering DSL services or something.

Beware of Greeks bearing gifts is a quote worth remembering at all times. I'll put the post here, the translation and what the site said and its translation.

The comment: Gostei muito desse post e seu blog é muito interessante, vou passar por aqui sempre =) Depois dá uma passada lá no meu site, que é sobre o CresceNet, espero que goste. O endereço dele é http://www.provedorcrescenet.com . Um abraço.

The translation: I very liked this post and its blog is very interesting, goes to pass for here always =) Later gives passing back in my site, that is on the CresceNet, waits that it likes. The address of it is http://www.provedorcrescenet.com. One I hug.

what the website says it is about:O CresceNet é um provedor de internet que remunera financeiramente seus usuários. Exatamente isso que você leu, estão pagando para você conectar. O provedor CresceNet, paga 20 centavos por hora de conexão discada com ligação local para mais de 2100 cidades. Possui um acelerador de conexão, que deixa sua conexão até 10 vezes mais rápida. Quem utiliza banda larga pode lucrar também, basta se cadastrar no CresceNet e quando for dormir conectar por discada, é possível pagar a ADSL só com o lucro da discada. Nos horários de pulso único o gasto com telefone é mínimo e a remuneração do CresceNet generosa. Não perca esta oportunidade. Clique aqui e comece a lucrar com o CresceNet agora mesmo.

The translation: The CresceNet is an InterNet supplier that remunerates financially its users. Accurately this that you read, is paying you to connect. The CresceNet supplier, paid 20 cents for the moment of connection dialed with local linking for more than 2100 cities. It possesss a connection accelerator, that leaves its faster connection up to 10 times. Who uses broad band can also profit, is enough to register in cadastre itself in the CresceNet and when it will be to sleep to connect for dialed, it is possible to pay the ADSL alone with the profit of the dialed one. In the schedules of only pulse the expense with telephone is minimum and the remuneration of the generous CresceNet. It does not lose this chance. Click and starts here to profit right now from the CresceNet.