Sick Days

I decided to be absent from work since the other night. I was totally exhausted and my lack of sleep for several weeks (a maximum of four hours) drained me too much. I know may halong pag-iinarte 'to but my back really aches these past weeks. I hate this scoliosis and here I am suffering from my migraine again and I feel like throwing up.

On a lighter note, Caro and I had finally purchased the new portable system from ACER. It's actually my sister's computer but she trusts me too much in looking for the best specs and the best price. Maybe, I could suggest that she'll give the PC a good name, just like what Caro does to her fruits of labor (sorry Caro for being gaya-gaya and thanks for the idea. hehehe). Anyway, I'm too confident I've chosen the right one. Aside from the very nice LCD, the system runs fast as compared to her old one (I've just realised that the old Acer laptop has only 64MB of RAM. Ewww. Patay gutom. Hahahaha. I still could remember how my sister got pissed when I laughed out loud while talking with her on the phone about it.) And when I've checked the service center how much the "damage" would be if we'll have the LCD, optical drive, bottom plastic and modem repaired - it's a wacking 45,000 pesos! I could buy a newer and a far better system at that. In fact, it only has a Celeron processor and its operating system is only Windows ME. There's a high-end desktop computer that's being offered to Caro's mom for only 41,000 (17" Flat Panel monitor, etc.)

-o0o-

I'm supposed to be resting today since I really am not feeling well. It's like GOD, or the devils, I suppose, is whispering to me, "eTel is nothing but a hell. Get out of their before you'll rest forever." But I need to survive in this big city so I must stick to it before I could get a new job.

I was still sleeping at 8 this morning when somebody knocked on my door. I thought it was the laundry woman (Yes, I could afford one now. Hahaha) but to my surprise, it's my cousin who is applying for a job here in Manila, since Mindanao has really a few to offer and it's facing the so-called "brain drain" dilemma. Tsk tsk. She asked if I could accompany her to the National Statistics Office to get an authenticated copy of her birth certificate. I thought that it would be to mean for me to say "no" since I am, at times, a very kind person, too, though I feel that I'm already dying.

People in Butuan, hear this. Their NSO office here is big BUT it's too hot. Walang ka-aircon-aircon aside from the fact that the employees are so slow-moving. Ayon at tumindi ang sakit ng ulo ko to the point that I felt my skull would break at any point. Good thing that prayers really worked that I was able to withstand the terrible pain.

I wasn't aware that she's planning to go to the Philippine Stock Exchange (West)building for an interview. Besides waling to the building from SM Megamall, at 1 p.m., when the sun's heat could totally fry my scalp, I also wasn't aware that there are establishments, other than the Professional Regulation Commission that won't allow people in slippers to enter. I felt that I was treated like a beggar to enter the building through the basement, with so many che-che buretse before I could get a visitor's ID. And we were not allowed to use any kind of elevator except the service elevator all because I was in slippers (when in fact my footwear is more expensive than other people's shoes there. Add it with the employees who are too jologs and they speak like market vendors.) I couldn't even forget the face of the elevator operator who asked me, "Saan ang mga idi-deliver niyo?" and I spoke no word. My stabbing eyes would be enough to shut his mouth.

My cousin observed that I was already totally pissed. Vulgar languages flooded at the back of my head but I still decided to maintain the small amount of compsure and professionalism in me. There are times when silence is the best way to attack one's anger. Thank you, Lord for enlightening my mind during that dark moment, else, I could have eaten all those people alive.

And so, we went to that company, that, because of its being too Pinoy, I never heard about it at all. Their office environment is like a noisy internet cafe with computers too old-looking. And the employees' face look like... never mind. We were told by the guard to proceed to the reception area - where the darn, stupid, idiot, ignorant and chimay-looking frontdesk officer would be found. To make it short, she heard several comments from me when she asked my cousin "Are you sure na sinabihan kang may bakant dito at pinsan ka ni (ewan)?" With so many "Are you sure" questions that she asked, I wasn't able to control myself and said, "Are you sure you are the receptionist here? You don't even possess even a... pinch of manners... of sense of professionalism...."

This day has already been ruined. A 250-milligram capsule of Ponstan didn't cure my severe headache. I had to take Dolfenal 500. Anytime from now I'm gonna be inutile. Thanks to Caro's installed games and I'm still enjoying this so-called life.

As for the question if I'll be reporting back to work this evening? NO! I'm not in the mood to.

Ginataang Halu-halo

Visayan term - binignit
Maranao/Cagayanon/Iliganon term - tabirak
Ilonggo - lugaw
English term - still to be discovered.
Note: Remember that looks would often be deceiving. Food tastes a lot better than how it looks. I'm not good at presentation.

Ingredients:
gabi, cut into cubes
camote, cut into cubes
monggo beans
malagkit
langka, cut into strips
sago
landang
saging na saba
bilo-bilo (ground wet malagkit, formed into small balls)
coconut milk
white sugar
vanilla extract
water

Procedure:
1. Separately soak the malagkit, monggo beans and landang in water for at least 30 minutes.
2. Boil the malagkit and monggo beans until tender.
3. Add in the gabi and camote. Constantly stir the mixture to prevent the ingredients from sticking. Keep the fire to low heat.
4. Add in the banana and bilo-bilo.
5. Add some amount of water to lessen the consistency.
6. Put in some sugar to taste.
7. Mix the landang.
8. Slowly add the coconut milk while stirring the mixture.
9. Constantly stir for about 5 minutes under low fire.
10. Remove the pot from the stove and add vanilla and langka strips.

Tips:
1. Keep mixing the ingredients to prevent them from sticking on the bottom.
2. Always keep fire to low.
3. Only add the vanilla when stove is turned off to prevent excessive evaporation, thus, losing its aroma and taste.

A frustrated cook's note:
I normally don't measure the ingredients as I think that I only do that in a chemical laboratory. Cooking must be done with fun and not with strict application of Science.

Moments of Love

"Ang pag-ibig walang pinipiling panahon, walang pinipiling wakas."

I am jologs. I admit it.

The time I heard the song "Moments of Love," my attention was drawn to it and as time progressed, I was curious on how the movie would be like. Add it with the fact that I like Iza Calzado.

So I watched it yesterday at SM Fairview, alone, as always.

I'm supposed to write a movie review but for some reasons, I can't make a good one. Maybe because I didn't find it as a movie but just an hour and forty-five minutes of telesine.

The plot is a combination of "Somewhere in Time," "Frequency" and, according to others, some other Chinese and Korean movies. It's so clear in the movie's trailer that two individuals, living in two different periods, meet through the phone and then their love story starts.

The flick is a revelation of Dingdong Dantes' acting skill - that finally, he's able to prove that he's no longer a matinee idol but a mature actor. I just find Karylle so conscious infront of the cam that I didn't find her acting good. As for Paolo Contis, he's an effective villain but his wig is too funny that I thought it was a nest that anytime a bird would lay eggs on it.

A Filipino film wouldn't be Pinoy at all if there are salimpusas around acting as panggulo or should I say, fillers. But Jojo Alejar's character as an 80's actor who has lost his fame and still possesses the star complex is an effective comic relief.

Comparing to some other Filipino movies I've seen, this one is somewhat different. Different in a way that I wasn't able to predict its ending. There's a twist in the denouement that caught me surprised (just irritated though with a very shallow and stupid audience who kept on howling during that scene).

Generally, the movie is good... yes, it's good.

Tinuktok

Last night, my voracious personality won't allow me to turn down the opportunity that was given to me to eat tinuktok at Caro's. It's one of the food I simply can't resist. It may not look nice but it's one of the most delicious native delicacies I've ever tasted in my entire life to the extent that I literally forgot where I'm at when I took my first bite of it.

Anyway, last night was the chance for me to see Chocnut and Coco again and meet Caro's parents. I miss Caro. Though I haven't seen her for just four days, I still miss her presence. And I miss more the serious discussions, the very logical and practical advices she gives me (take note, she's more than a year younger than me but she reacts and thinks like she's a lot older).

A chat with Caro would never be boring. It is the moment when I am listening to my sister and learn a lot of lessons from her. It's the time when I assess myself and realize a lot of things.

One of the things we've discussed is about maturity, stability, and aiming for a goal. I've come to think that I still wasn't able to fulfill one of my dreams - and that has to remain a secret until I would finally turn it to reality. Good for me, I make plans for myself. But the thing Caro and I are both afraid of, and feel pitiful of, is knowing a person who doesn't know what to do with his life, living all his life in denial and not experiencing mental and psychological maturity that her chronological age should have undergone. It's such a pity. But we can't do anything for him.

As for how Caro's mom sees me, she thinks I'm "totoo, desente (bwahahaha)," and I forgot the last adjective that she used for me. And right from her own mouth, she told me that Badet and I would be a perfect couple... and I just laughed.

Flashback Part 4

February 13, 1997, in Carl Patrick's Bistro. Still in third year high school. The City Population Commission conducted a love forum, inviting high school students from schools in the city, and I was one of them.

It wasn't at all extra-ordinary. Aside from the torta (Carl Patricki's had the best torta I've ever tasted) and softdrinks, it was an event where we were encouraged to exchange our views about love and courtship. But it wasn't that thing that made it memorable for me. There was one part of the forum that I couldn't delete from my long-term memory.

After the break, one of the moderators passed around a basket of rolled papers - one for the girls and one for the boys. I was too noisy while the baskets were passed around and I didn't mind what was written on the paper that I had picked - it just said "Mr. Valentine."

"Uh, OK," I told myself. "So I'm gonna ba the king." Then I laughed.

Balot was even mad why her paper was blank. She should have a title for herself. So, she wrote "Dancing Queen" on hers.

Then the Emcee told us not to throw the papers. There's a prize for whatever you've picked and I was excited since I was thinking of a freebie or an extra food for myself. Then such excitement turned to disappointment and embarrasment. Miss Valentine was first called. And she was asked to sit on the stage and was awarded with a crown of flowers, bouquet and a sash. I wished I could disappear at that time, looking for the nearest escape from the hall. But it was too late when my classmates where pointing on me when Mr. Valentine was called. Shit! I had to walk to the stage, receive the lei and sash and be with the "queen." Worse, I had to kiss her. An emotionally and socially immature person like me didn't know how to handle that. I couldn't even remember how I kissed her - was it cheek-to-cheek or did my lips touch her cheek. All I could remember was my face was totally red (as I could feel it) and I couldn't hear myself since the crowd was shouting "Kiss! Kiss!"

It was really humiliating for me. I knew that girl. She used to be my schoolmate in grade school. Damn, I was damned!

Forbidden!

I always see this everytime I go to Ever Commonwealth. This isn't funny... and I hate it everytime I pass by these signs (take note, it's a series of signs of the same content and mistake). Bakit di na lang kasi tagalugin?

Words I Always Say but Never Mean

I'm...

    happy
             fine
                   OK
                         alright

Testi

In these times when you feel sad, sick and lonely,
Check your friendster and read your testi(s).
Before you know it, you're smiling and it makes you happy!

Mulawin the Movie

"Umasa kayo sa liwanag kahit aandap-andap."

I had been an avid viewer of Mulawin since it started airing in Philippine television on June 2004. This epic of mythical half-bird, half-human creatures caught my curious attention because of its nice trailer and definitely great theme song, sung by one of my favorite bands, Southborder.

After almost a year of their last bow as a primetime series that undeniably swept the charts as far as public viewing is concerned, GMA and Regal Films venture into a movie version of Mulawin.

The Plot

The saga begins with the series' ending as Aguiluz (Richard Gutierrez) and Alwina (Angel Locsin) embrace mortal life. It was clearly shown in the ending of the series that they opted to become humans and spend the rest of their lives together. But their journey ended in tragedy when the ship to Tierra Fuego was caught in a violent storm, separating them at sea and both being washed ashore.

Both have lost their memories because of the curse given by Dakila (Eddie Guiterrez), that is, whoever leaves Avila, the home of the Mulawins, will no longer remember a single thing about the race, except if they will be reminded of such. These two protagonists live separate lives. Alwina became a surrogate daughter of a wealthy family (which was not clearly shown) while Aguiluz is rescued by a poor married couple. Alwina is later engaged to marry Gabriel (Dennis Trillo), Aguiluz' half brother to their father, Ravenum (Michael de Mesa), the antagonist.

As it was clearly shown in the series itself, the Mulawins and the Encantadas were already allied forces right from the start. As the Mulawin tree is starting to wither because of the lost ugatpak (the main feather attached to the creature's back which would serve as the source of their strength), the battle for power between Pirena (Sunshine Dizon) and her co-Sanggre sisters in Lireo occurs, eyeing for the "gintong binhi", the fruit of the Mulawin tree, which could rise creatures from the dead. Pirena took the binhi by force from Alena (Karylle) and Ybrahim (Dingdong Dantes) and brought back to life the ruthless Ravenum, who was out to wreak havoc on Avila and Encantadia.

Challenges arise right from the start of letting Alwina remember her true identity to the quest for peace, love, freedom and survival for the Mulawin species.

Comments

The Cinema Evaluation Board of the Philippines gave this movie an A rating, thus, making it as the only movie in the filmfest to receive such mark. However, there are still some lapses that were so evident in a normal but keen viewer's eyes like mine.

As what I expected, the storyline was so predictable, with the good winning over the evil forces. Typical melodramatic scenes continously steam from the characters, soliciting for emotions from Filipino audience. Who could forget near-death situations, exchanging of dialogues, with one person catching his breath, while the other one is streaming her tears with mucus barely coming out from her nose? Such very very typical of a Filipino film.

Though the flight scenes are breath-taking, with the wings of the characters, this time more detailed and realistic, the drama of it all has lost. I admit I was amazed at first but after a few minutes of watching them fly, my excitement just flew away to anywhere I don't know. But I should say the special effects are better seen on TV than on the big screen itself.

The series took about eight months and this movie was like only two hours. The scenes were obviously hurried, jeopardizing the continuity and clarity of every transition. The storyline failed to explain the disappearance of Lourdes (Amy Austria), Gabriel and Pirena.

The timing was not right, making people recall why Pirena was so evil when nowadays, the Sanggres' bond is too strong, fighting against the Etherians. It could have been better if the movie was released during the time when Encantadia's story dwells on the rivalry between Amihan (Izza Calzado) and Pirena so that people could really relate the story with the fantaserye.

And where have the Pirekos, the Amazonas, Habagat (Romnick Sarmienta) gone? The fact that the moviemakers claim that this movie is a continuation of the soap disappoints the viewers because these characters were not seen in the movie. There should have been, at least, some explanations why they were not around. Habagat's character, for example is a very essential one since he is known as the greatest warrior among the Mulawins and he was not killed in the soap opera.

However, the high-sounding all-Filipino poetic lines delivered by each character added a nice touch to the movie. It's nice to hear those words coming out of these people's mouth.

Even though Angel and Richard's faces look so exhausted and the latter's make up is too much for a macho male hero and it doesn't look realistic for warriors to have nice, manicured fingernails, they still register well on screen and their nice chemistry as a tandem was never lost. In addition, seeing Izza Calzado's very lovely face gives grace to my movie experience.

Moral

Made specially for children, Mulawin the Movie shares the cliche that good will always win over the evil. In a way, even mature audience could relate to it. We could apply it in ourselves and with the present situation that our country is facing - that no matter how long we would be suffering from evil politicians, time will come that their reign would end and that we will be victorious with our quest for freedom and development. Question is, does it really happen in real life?

Generally, I could say that the movie is not bad itself compared to local movies made (I told myself never to compare local flicks to foreign ones because it's not fair). We have been improving as far as special effects is concerned but we still have to work harder to reach farther. Over-all, basing my comments on Filipino films' standards, I give it three stars.

A Date to Remember

I am so used to do things with my own. Call me a loser. I call myself as somebody who enjoys his exciting life being alone.

I miss this thing I usually do since I was in third year college. I often cut classes to have a date with somebody I knew for so long - that's me. As a loner, I go to the movies alone, eat at a fastfood chain, go malling, sit on a bench at the National Museum lagoon, or wasting my time by having a joyride.

After a long time, for God knows how long that I can't even remember, I get to have enough time for myself. This is the reward I get when I would have my day off and there would be no friend to tag along with since it's either they're geographically miles away, or they are resting, at work, busy, or it's my personal choice not to be with them.

This time, I get to spend a quality time for myself. After being awake whole night for sleeping eight hours when the sun was smiling in the sky, staying in the office and seeing my friends, and finally taking some rest in my crowded room, I've thought of going out to do something.

Since I missed the Sunday mass, I chose to go to SM Fairview and watch a movie. My Ate said Mulawin is worth watching for so I gave the flick a try. I really didn't enjoy it that much (and I'm bound to publish my review on my next blog entry) but I'm still happy that I was able to give myself some time, making subo some popcorns to my date every now and then.

After then, I strolled around the mall, checking for some nice longsleeves to buy on my next pay day. Then I was able to pass by Red Ribbon so my date and I got in to have a taste of any cake I would like. Sweet, isn't it? Myself is the best date that I could have - no cheesy invitations, no sweet words, no flowers, no need to dress up properly, no need to be dumped.

The Speech I Delivered Before I Lost Myself

Toastmasters. It's an international public speaking club Ian, my bestfriend, had recruited me to join. That was my first time to live in Cebu City for my review classes. As a person who loves fun and co-curricular activities, and sets the main purpose aside, I tried myself with this organization. Besides, it is really my passion to speak infront of a podium, expressing how I feel with the world.

I had delivered this first basic speech (among ten speeches before promoting a plain Toastmaster to Competent Toastmaster then to Advanced Toastmaster) on August 9, 2003, at about 5 p.m. in Baseline Resto in Cebu City. Since one's self is the person one could know best, self-introduction was the topic for the first speech.

With the Hakuna Matata theme that was set, I must say I made a nice first impression on the Queen City Toastmasters that evening. I'm only good at firsts. When my second speech was delivered the following meeting (August 23), I sucked with my poorly prepared piece, being so grilled by Judge "Dread" Navarro, that ended my life as a TM.

Now, I'm attracted to join the club again. This time in eTel. Should I pursue it? Why not. Maybe I have to check my budget again and see what I could do.

Anyway, here was my first speech. I could remember I was in my brown polo and denim jeans at that time. I had to wear something orange-y or brown to jive with the theme or else I'll be paying 20 bucks as a fine for non-compliance.

Thanks to my mentor, Richard Ramos, a famous columnist of The Freeman and a travel book author, who shared his time and talent for me. Meeting him thrice prior this presentation, proofreading my piece, listening to my delivery and criticking some parts, was such a big help for me. Thanks Richard, and sorry for the mess I've made for tainting your good name during my second speech. I was humiliated but it was you who was put more to shame.

About 22 years ago, my father’s quickest sperm cell won the race over the billion others in uniting with my mother’s heavily-guarded ovum. Nine months after, a male Homo sapiens sapiens gasped his first mouthful of oxygen in this planet – and that’s me.

GREETINGS

Honestly, when I first thought of making a speech about myself, I faced many inhibitions. Well, I admit that I’m so narcissistic but I just show my conceit to my friends and to myself. Talking mainly about me, myself and I, specially with some strangers may lead me to being misconstrued of self-promoting or tooting my own horn. But when I realized that this exercise would be the only way to make me leap higher, I have no other choice but to do this.

I was baptized as Edu*rdo Riz*d* C*t*yoc III. I used to hate my name because it sounds so locally made. But later on, I began appreciating it when I knew its meaning. It is Spanish for “a rich guardian”. And when I’m called Ed**rd* III during class role calls, it sounds like a Spanish prince enrolled in my teacher’s subject. My classmates call me Edward while my Biology professor addresses me as Eddie. Some call me Ed while my friends call me Ed**rd*. You could call me in anyway from those I’ve mentioned but I like it most when people call me the way I’m known at home – Third.

My former “friend” describes me as “one of the girls” because I easily mingle with the opposite sex but find it hard to deal with the guys. In fact, in my barkada of 14, 10 are females and only four of us have the XY chromosomes. The reason behind this is that I was raised in a feminine environment – with my mom, two older sisters, my aunt for whom I’m the apple of her eye, a legally acquired younger sister, and even a female dog. I grew up without a father figure because my dad passed away when I was still three. I was raised through women’s ways and strengths that’s why I always raise my hat off to the likes of my mom – the epitome of women empowerment.

Numerology pertaining to my name and birthday states that I’m accident-prone. My family didn’t believe it at first. It’s ordinary for a kid to get injured while playing, right? But as time went by, we’ve observed that I was meeting several cases of accidents. As a preschooler, I fell several times into the drainage and had half of my body soaked with stinky canal waters. (Eww! That was gross!). One time, I almost drowned at the beach. During my early elementary, I was rushed to the hospital twice. First was for a dose of anti-tetanus vaccine for almost experiencing lockjaw due to a dirty nail lodged in my foot. The second time, for having four stitches sewn in my inner cheek and upper left lip for hitting my mouth on the floor. The worst case occurred when I was ten. I was unconscious for three days due to an encounter with a speeding jeepney while I was crossing the highway. Had I died at that time, there wouldn’t be a handsome individual who will share his near-death experience to you. The doctor looks at it as a miracle. We call it a second chance.

Since then, my family was already convinced that I am really accident-prone. They became so overprotective of me that I had to inform them of my whereabouts every now and then. I bid goodbye to playing outdoors and stayed at home instead whenever I didn’t have classes. Later, I realized, I was already too old to learn the basics about basketball, swimming, biking, rollerblading and even climbing a tree. I was too shy to start learning those things at my advanced age. That is why I’ve never appreciated sports.

I consider my personality as a complex one that I myself could not understand. I have shallow dreams and happiness yet I couldn’t fathom the depths of my feelings and thoughts.

I enjoy debating and speaking onstage, yet I find it hard to deal with people. I’m an anti-social being who prefers to sleep at home than go to the discos and parties. I’m a noisy, jolly, warm and funny blabbermouth who can’t hide my jerky motions and loud voice whenever I’m with my friends. But most people consider me as a snob – an uncongenial piece of individual who doesn’t give a damn who he is bumping into. I always see to it that my ideas will win over the others’ during class presentations. But I haven’t won in any individual competition. I always demand perfection from
others but I can’t find excellence in myself. I have a keen eye on people’s mistakes but I live with the principle that I’m not born to please everybody. I want to stay alone listening to music, singing at the top of my voice, sleeping, reading and watching TV, yet I can’t last a day without calling at least one of my friends. People call me weird but my friends call me awesome just because they believe in the maxim “Birds of the same feathers flock together”.

Lastly, my trademark characteristic is my being brutally frank. I oftentimes present truth in a sarcastic and satirical manner that people may either laugh at me in amusement or curse me to death for my unpolished tongue. (Thank goodness I’m still alive). I can’t hide what I feel and think. It’s either I speak up or I make faces.

Funny how it seems! At first, I was expressing how uncomfortable I was when introducing myself. But here am, revealing a big slice of my life in front of you. Well, that’s one of my inconsistencies – pretending to be shy, yet possessing a thick skin. I can’t believe I did it.

Now I can sing “I’ve shared a part of my life…and I did it first with you…”

Haikus

Quietness

Alone in this dark

Vast emptiness fills my soul

Let me weep to sleep

Soliloquy

Hey look at yourself

Are you my friend or my foe?

Stop hurting yourself.

The Song That Brought Me to Tears

My new year's day is one great moment for me to reflect on myself. Part of it was finishing the book I had long left - "When God Writes Your Love Story."

I was in a desperate state when I was reading this book which gave me tonnes of hope, something that I should be thankful for.Here is a song, whose melody I still don't know, that made me cry - really really cry to the extent that I found myself sobbing, like a kid gasping for a mouthful of air everytime I inhale. It was written by one of the authors, Eric Ludy.

I am like a deer, You are like the water I run to You, like a son to his Father I felt so alone, like a moth without a flame But You ignited, and to You I came And that's forever. I felt so alone like a ship without a sea But You gave me water, You took my hand and said to me "This is for eternity." I'll never be lonely I'll never be lonely with You I've got this feeling that You're here to stay And I know I'll never be lonely with You.

In Search for Tabun-tabon

It's January 2, Monday, back to work and I have realized I ran out of rice, noodles, canned goods and other basic things for myself.

I decided to go to Manggahan Market to buy those. After buying a few kilos of rice, the wet market caught my attention. It's been a while since I haven't been in the fish section and I love this job - checking for the freshest fish, checking the gills, their scales, check if the weighing scale is OK, if the bulb has no red thing on it, etc. - just don't step on my feet and I'm gonna kill you.

Anyway, I've also missed my favorite kinilaw. It's what my mama and lola always ask from me whenever I get home. They say I prepare the best kinilaw for them. Hehehe. What I think is that they only say it so that I could also have a purpose - and I'm doing it for free.

So I bought one-fourth kilo of tuna. It's a lot cheaper than blue marlin.

The biggest challenge for me was not to look for the freshest tuna. Instead, it was looking for tabun-tabon. I don't know it's local term here but it looks like anonas. It's cut in half and its pulp is scraped to minimize the strong taste of the vinegar. It's a lot better than adding mayonnaise.

To make the long story short, I haven't found one. And nobody knows the local term for it. But I'm still able to prepare kinilaw for myself and for my friends. I know it wouldn't be as delicious as it could be but I've tried.

Bag-ong Tuig

This has been the loneliest new year's day I've ever had in my entire life. Alone in my dark room, I was seated on my bed, thinking what my life has been. I was supposed to cry my sadness and shake all those blues away but then, my system seemed to have dehydration that not a single teardrop could get out of my body. And then I realized, I was supposed to be happy.

It was a few minutes after the clock struck 12 midnight. People had finished with their eardrum-breaking Judas' belt and some other irritating firecrackers. While people outside were busy merry-making, I was in confusion on what my emotion should be on that moment. After several exchanges of SMS messages, I was waiting for a reply from a dear friend. But for whatever reasons, my being so kulit was one of them, she opted to keep silent and I was left on a cliffhanger, my mind wandering, thinking what must she be doing that I should be worried of.

Then everything seemed to stop. I remembered, one person could be lucky in his being alone. In the midst of a very terrible loneliness and worry, I found peace, freedom and refuge inside my quiet room. Not even thinking what drunk people were doing outside, this time, I was having my so-called God Moment again - the time when I only don't know that God is with me but also, when I feel His presence.

I was never a fan of new year's resolutions. Personally, they are just made by people who are only up to plans without thinking of practicabilities whether they could be executed or not. Instead, what I usually do is light a candle, as I gaze at its blinding light, assess how my life was for the past year, thank God for everything, and pray for His guidance for the coming year.

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to buy a candle. Secondly, I didn't feel like doing it. But for something unexplainable, there was a strong force that told me to assess myself and see what are the gifts that I have received this new year's day.

I never received any material thing from anybody. Well, there was one - the black Mossimo shirt that Caro gave me. And I should really be thankful to her for that. But I'm not really a material guy. Cards or simple letters from my loved ones would mean so much for me because behind those constructions of words, I could feel one's sincerity and love for me. Unluckily, I never received one, not even from my Mom and I could understand her for that.

But I still have three things today - respect, friendship and patience. It was a misfortune not to receive world peace but at these times of greed, I don't think it's attainable. Anyway, let me point out each of them.

Respect

It's not for me. I had been so irritated with people teasing me with "Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo (replacing his name with mine)" that that darn Benter authored. But so much for that, I try myself not to be affected by that petty thing. I know myself better than anybody else does so why bother?

Im referring to Batlita, the girl we had been constantly chastizing for her overwhelming alembong. These past week, I realized I was so mean with her, delivering all her quotable lines in public and mimicking some of her gestures. In short, I don't respect her as a woman.

As an only Homo sapiens sapiens with XY chromosomes in an environment of egg cells, I was raced to be extra-sensitive to anybody who carries the female gametes. I grew up witnessing how a woman could fight for her children's life in order to survive in this double-standard society. In addition, though I grew up remembering what a gambler my father was, my mother and sisters still instilled in my mind how a perfect gentleman he was.

If my dad is seeing me right now, would he be proud of me? I don't think so. It's so unbecoming of a good man. If I'll be an example in a Set Theory chapter, I would be included in the majority population of jerks, who think only of the female anatomy, not minding their value as a woman. It is such a shame for me.

I've decided, I had to stop this, before it's too late.

Friendship

Although I'm sad that the girl I really really love does not, will not, and cannot love me back, I'm still thankful to her that we're still friends. To add to that, I feel happier that she trusts me so much by opening up her problems to me without hesitations. I would be lying if I'd say I'm not hurt specially when she talks about her guy but it's our friendship that matters.

I'm just so overprotective with my friends and if I find out that somebody is making a fool of them, then I'm going to haunt that somebody. But for whatever decisions she's gonna be doing, I promised to just be behind her. As a friend, I will be her support. And if she fails, I'll be just behind her to catch her fall.

Patience

This is something that bothers me these past weeks. I've been crying in my sleep, doubting the possibility that Miss Right will come along my way.

I must have forgotten that I had surrendered the pen of my life to God, lifting up everything to Him. Along with that pen is a tale of my own love story. It has long started with my search for her. It may or may not be Pheebs, but I hope it's her, I would still be waiting for her. I'm still 24.

Learning to love my future spouse through patiently waiting, consistently hoping andloving by the high standard to which I have been called is the thing called faithfulness. It is like a tree that patiently endures torid winds and rains only to make itself sturdier every end of each season.

I should be a male Penelope, patiently waiting for my woman to come, preparing my white tapestry as my present to her when she comes.

Very Formal Tuesday

I'm trying to maintain my proper composure today (though I never have one and maintaining something out of nothing is more difficult). I thought it was already clear to all my friends and I that today would be a business attire day. So here I am, walking along the pavement of Eastwood City, Libis, in my yellow longsleeves, khaki slacks and brown shoes and necktie. The last time I was this formal was when I attended the ECE Board Oathtaking Ceremony on December 7, 2003 in Cebu City.

But to my surprise, the MEANies just came in their jeans and shirts. Isn't it unfair? Tapos tinatawanan pa nila ako, including the other TL's? Nakakainis! But then dapat ko na 'tong paninindigan and I have to accept all the humiliation for the entire shift. Basta, guwapo ako today. Hehehe.

I'll be posting my picture later. Basta, I'm the most handsome guy in eTel today. Period. Case closed.

Death Scene in my Mind

I was totally aggrevated yesterday. Hell! I was trying to fuel myself with more energy for the following week by sleeping. Damn! There went again my hatest thing - people singing videoke at the top of their lungs with shitty boosters on. Am I being teased by my destiny, that is, to belong in a very irresponsible neighborhood which doesn't have a single sense of consideration?

So I complained to my sister and aunt since they are owning the place and they have the full right to reprimand their boarders to lower down their system's volume. What the hell was the boarders' reaction? Kesyo I don't know what pakikisama means, kesyo I'm acting like I'm owning the place and I keep on complaining things, kesyo I don't understand them, and worst, kesyo I am a probinsiyano and I don't understand the lifestyle of the people in the metropolis. Shit! The word "silence" and "public disturbance" is always universally defined. Geographical location is never a factor in giving its proper meaning. Bullshit! I may be a promdi but I know what when my right ends and when my responsibility enters. If all of our living principle would be "To do whatever i want to do as long as I don't disturb others," then there's gonna be no trouble in this world.

They're trying to threaten me that kesyo one of the boarders is halang ang bituka. So? Does that mean he's gonna kill me any moment from now on, either being stabbed in my tummy or shot dead on my forehead as I walk along the narrow streets of Old Balara? Fine! Then that's gonna be a full proof that I'm my father's son, that even in our death we have the same fate.

Being murdered is not the death scene in my mind but I won't have a choice in case that will happen to me. How would it feel to have my warm blood flowing out of my body as I feel I'm getting cold in every tick of the clock? Come on, I'm curious. At present, I'm at the point of struggling to fulfill my need to belong and live safely, in the Maslow's hierarchy of needs that is, but if the time is near for me to face the final curtain, I'd certainly say, "I did it my way."

Unstarry, Unstarry Night

I thought Haydee was just kidding when she said that stars don't seem to be visible in Manila. Well, it's not exactly what she said but whatever it is, it's true - that when it comes to stars, the skies of Butuan show more of those glittering heavenly bodies than that of Manila.

I've been here for more than a month but I couldn't remember an evening when the things in the dark sky amaze me. Smogs have covered these nice creations and that makes me sad.

When will the time come when I could sing "Vincent" at the top of my voice on a starry, starry night?

UP

This is Manila and I would be expecting to meet lots of different people from different schools. And then, I would dread to hear the school "U.P." - the school I dreamed of in high school. Sadly, it just turned out only to be a dream. For obvious reasons, I didn't get the chance to enrol in this university even though passing to some scholarship programs would help support my studies.

I hated that time when I had to beg for my mom's approval to let me enrol in UP; that I dared not to speak to her nor with Ate for firmly saying "No" no matter how I cried; that in the middle of every meal, when the topic about my college was opened, I would instantly burst into tears and walk out of the dining table out of disperation; that I felt so helpless that I didn't any choice but to accept the fact that I couldn't go to UP.

Had I given the chance to study in UP, I would have graduated and be a proud person, introducing myself that I am from UP. I could have established a very strong and overwhelming self confidence in me that I don't have to belittle myself.

But what if I might have entered UP but still flunked in my subjects and got kicked out? What if something bad happened to me, may it be that I got killed in a rally (since I am radical-minded), or I might have been transformed to a morally-questionable being, or I might have been addicted to different vices. We can't tell.

Realizing how my life went, I don't have to regret on anything. Life's consolation is always just and fair. Had I studied in UP, I wouldn't have met my friends in Iligan and SJIT. They might not be as mentally gifted as UP people are but they are real people and I would cherish their friendship. Thanks to Fenga, Ate LA, my blockmates and colleagues in ROTC, Ces, Oni, Jesse, Mitch, Atan, Chard, and the rest who made my college life pretty fun and exciting. I would have been a different person now if I was permitted to be a UP moron (maroon). But I still can't get away the feeling that I deserve to belong to that institution.

Things happen for a reason. This is always my concluding sentence. It's true anyway, as what the book of Ecclesiastes tells us. Probably I deserve a school something better than UP - Harvard or Oxford perhaps? I don't know. Who could tell?

Intaglio Printing

Yesterday, I spent the whole morning in the cemetery, cleaning and painting my father's tomb. It's my advance treat for him since i can't visit his grave on All Souls' Day.

What took most of my time was applying gold paint on his epitaph. It reminds me of my Humanities class way back in college. I've learned from Sir Pinili that this kind of printing is called intaglio, the opposite technique used in relief printing (e.g. rubber stamp). I should say I'm not good at it since my work was quite messy plus my back ached so much. I also don't have enough patience to do it but well, I've stretched it farther for my dad.

Going farther

Unlike other religions, we, Roman Catholics, celebrate All Souls Day. I personally believe that though these people are already dead, their spirits are still roaming around since the final judgment hasn't happened yet. I know that my father is always beside me. I even speak with him in my sleep and I feel his presence especially when I need him. With those numerous instances that I need help, I know he was there. I might have cried once in my sleep, telling him that he was so unfair in leaving me so early, and that I didn't have a father figure when I grew up, I'm still thankful that I could communicate with him in my dreams.

Everything happens for a reason, and I know that. His death had proved us so many things - that I have a mother who is more than willing to give up her life for all of us, that I have a sister who has sacrificed even her personal relationships for us, that we could survive even without the help of other relatives, that we are strong, that we are independent, that we are survivors.