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1.8.05

'Wag na 'Wag Mong Sasabihin

Never have a relationship with a korean. It'll be a very difficult relationship where you may either loose a friend, or break ties with any of your siblings of the same sex.

If you ever do decide to have a relationship with a korean, you must be aware that there is a possibility of a former loved one, a boss, or the above mentioned people waiting in the wings to cheer her up and give her second thoughts whenever you encounter a rough spot in your relationship.

If this facts trouble you, if ever they are too much to bear, don't worry. chances are that there will be a girl who will suddenly appear in your life to comfort you in those moments of trouble and confusion.

These are all based on reliable sources people. Just watch all those Korean Telenovellas, you'll see what I mean.

Jordan
08010501:03pm

25.7.05

The Ghost in You, He Don't Fade

I met Erap face to face last July 4, at the MRT station in Kamuning.

I buy stored tickets riding the MRT. I tend to be smart enough not to fall in line every time I ride it. But on that particular day when I was at the MRT Kamuning station, I realized it wasn’t with me. A moment of clarity made me remember it was, well, at my room, somewhere.

The good thing with the Kamuning station is that it’s one of the least populated stations, so there was no long line as punishment for my mistake.

That is when I got to meet Erap.

You can’t mistake it. Same mug, same hairdo, same sneering smile… wait a moment, same job description? The one trip only MRT card I was holding was the one with Erap when he was still “His Excellency, President Joseph Ejercito Estrada.”

I thought it funny, God’s version of a joke considering that we want GMA to step down after finding evidence of her cheating her way to the presidency. Yup, finding the face of the former president who was disposed off suddenly appearing again in these times sure was sago to the Zagu shake.

A week later, at Makati Cinema Square, Jo and I heard this foreign couple talking about the card the guy had in his possession. I looked closely and it was a five hundred peso stored MRT. Yes, Erap’s mug was there too. I felt a sense of communality and approached him out of the blue, asking if I could see the card closely because like him, I too once had Erap on an MRT card. We talked a bit more then parted ways as strangers again after.

By last week I saw Erap cards everywhere. I didn’t feel special anymore. All of a sudden, it wasn’t God having a sense of humor, but some unknown distabilizer who had a subversive streak up on his/her veins.

GMA finally took notice of this small irony happening along the EDSA highway by the end of last week. She ordered all Erap cards taken out. Confusion and panic ensued as Jo witnessed it riding the MRT last Friday.

Of course, the most obvious reasons why they were being used, one I didn’t mention first hand because it was boring, is that there is a shortage of MRT cards in circulation.

Glad the former president could help.

Lola

Last Tuesday, as I again was on a Welcome Rotonda-Project 2-3 jeep to work. I got to sit beside a Lola who had means of storing money that I haven’t seen in years.

At first she took out a pink handkerchief and daubed her face a bit off some EDSA grime. Then she put the hanky on her lap and started unraveling its fold. Lo and behold, her money was wrapped in her handkerchief.

The paper bills were neatly folded, and the coins were like ROTC cadets all in order. She paid a ten peso coin to the driver’s assistant and upon receiving, Lola insisted that they just give her two pesos, rather than the two pesos and fifty centavo change. “Ayaw ko ng mga bentsinko. Sa inyo na yan.” She said. “Okay lang sa amin yun Lola!” replied the driver’s assistant. Upon receiving the two peso change, she laid it along with her other pisos, beside the five peso and ten peso coins. She didn’t have any bentsinkos in her hanky. She neatly folded back her hanky and laid it gingerly in her lap.

Later she lifted her right thigh all of a sudden and crossed her legs. Her right foot was dangling, and sticking out invading the private zone of the person in front of her. She left her right sandal on the floor too. Sweet.

Jordan
071905/10:32pm

13.7.05

Egg

just a few minutes ago on a Welcome Rotonda-Project 2-3 jeep to work, I saw a mid-thirties woman casually take out an egg from a plastic bag and put it inside her Gucci imitation handbag.
She had to arrange the stuff inside to accomodate the egg so I see her credit card bloated wallet shifed a little bit to the left, her cologne a bit to the middle, and god knows what else inside that the periphery of my eyes couldn't see.

I hope its hard boiled.

Jordan
071305

12.7.05

Commute

Here in the Philipines, commuting is the word used when riding the various means of public transport to get to your destination. Like Jeepneys, Taxis, Buses, Tricycles, FXs, and the Pedicab, you take your pick.

Basically you commute if you don’t have a car, or any private utility vehicle.

It was pointed out to me by a visiting Fullbright scholar that our use of the word “commuting” is different compared to how Americans do. Even the Canadians.

Commuting for them is whatever means you use to get to your destination. May it be a car or the subway train, may it be riding the taxi or your SUV. Whether you own the vehicle or not, you commute.

I wonder how the difference between commuting and owning a private vehicle came to be. Did the well-off people try to distance themselves with the rest by saying, “No, we don’t commute. We have ride a car.”

In America and Canada, hell, perhaps in other places too, everybody commutes. From the rich to the poor, to the old school to the new school, to the bling blings to the fare fee’d peeps. Everybody commutes.

Now that is a nice thought.

Jordan
071205/12:35pm

13.6.05

Who's that Girl?

I was at Gateway Cubao ordering Dinner at Jumbo Japs with Jo when she told me that I had to look to my left to see this woman’s hairdo. When I looked at the suggested direction, lo and behold, a woman decided to bring her pet at the mall and put it in her head.

Seriously, it was an old woman with brown colored hair, fashioned in a 60’s majestic bob. She was wearing a fancy dress and red high heeled shoes to boot. She was with a mid 30s woman who seems to be her daughter. Either that or they just both go to the same hair salon, as her hair also had that brown tinge.

They were trying to find a place to eat, and were going to the direction of this steak house place were there was but only a multitude of people waiting in line. Apparently they wanted to eat there so off they go to the other side, totally avoiding the line and demanding an order to the service crew. This went on for a few minutes until somebody told them that if they wanted to order, well, see that line? That long line of people just beside them? They just have to join them and wait for your turn.

They seemed surprised by this. Which really was no surprise to me as the old woman basically was flaunting the look of the old rich. They were like fish out of water, so used to getting their way, and having a hard time when they have to follow the rules with the rest. I know its stereotypical (“yes, very stereotypical”) but hey, there they were in front of all the people to see.

Man, the word “stereotypical” reminds me of this After Image song. No pun intended, but I think it’s quite apt to the subject. It’s titled “Next in line” and it goes something like this (take it away bebeh!):

“So I sing this song to all of my age, for these are the questions we got to raise, for in this cycle that we call life, we are the ones who are next in line. We are next in line. Uh-ho, who-oh, we are next in line.”

Who am I kidding. The pun was intended.

I got to stop myself from singing the chorus.

I also told Jo that it just may be her way of making herself feel good with her age, dressing up like that.

And It also intrigued me why there were a lot of people lining up in that steak house place, so while waiting for our order, I went near and took a peek.

Their stakes were nothing fancy, the same size you’d see at any carinderia. But what was pulling all the people to that store dawned on me when I heard some sizzling sounds.

They served sizzling plates. And for how many years, for some reason I just could not comprehend; Filipinos are into sizzling plate meals when in the malls.

Jordan
061205 12:54pm

Of Filipinos, Sex, and Movies

If we base it on how films are rated here, Filipinos have a high tolerance on sex and violence.

I was probably one of the few people who enjoyed The Matrix Reloaded and Revolutions, and one thing I noticed when it was shown was that it carried a PG13 rating, a far cry from the R rating it had in America.

I got to watch Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith weeks ago, and one of the news articles I got to read about it highlighted the fact that it was a PG13 movie, the second only after Return of the Jedi in the series to carry that rating (or was it The Empire Strikes Back?)

Lo and behold, kids were running around the movie house. And the MTRCB rating sign outside says it's a Rated GP film.

Yeah, I mean, it’s only a movie where the hero turns to the Dark side, massacres hundreds of his fellow Jedis, is told at by his master and getting disfigured in the process, thus wearing this all black suit complete with cape and mask, and gets to breath in and out so loud, you're like a living respirator. did I mention he has this death grip he uses on anyone he doesn't like?

Yep. Darth Vader is a good endorser of chocolate, ice cream, burgers and whatever merchandise you can think of that is geared for children.

Jordan
061405 1:33am

Cats and Humans

Four Sundays ago after jogging with Manila and Anton, jo and I rode a tricycle back to the apartment at Krus na Ligas. The tricycle was already turning around when we caught a glimpse of a cat watching a PBA game on TV with some humans in a sari-sari store.

Jordan 053105 21:48 mn

12.6.05

Getting High on Booksale

in a country that has a dangerous drugs bill outrageously punishing both the user and the pusher, you can laugh off your frustrations over the irony of finding by the dozens, copies of High Times for as low as ten pesos an issue at any Booksale store.

10.6.05

At the Mall

A service crew was holding out an arrow sign pointing at one cashier with the words “shortest line here” written on it. Although old enough to work, his face was replete with adolescence; two of which fate has strategically placed on top of his forehead making him look like a prepubescent devil.

-a couple was lazily walking in front of us at the mall. The long sleeved, executive type of guy’s arm was around the casual tee wearing woman’s shoulder. They were so sweet, their heads were leaning at each other.

But they were also slow, so we overtook them.

Looking back, I noticed that the woman had a week old stubble in his chin, and realized she was a he.

Aw, still a sweet couple for me.

6.5.05

Trench coats

I love trench coats. Trench coats are cool. Highlanders wear it. Mysterious heroes wear it. Gambit of the X-men wears it. Did I already tell you that Trench coats are cool?

Trench coats are cool. But I don't wear them.

Infact, I laugh at people who I see wearing it here in the Philippines . Sorry, I just can't help it. I believe these people wearing these trench coats also think they are cool the same way I do.

but I don't wear them.

It's hot here man. period. and Trenchcoats, the real deal ones, are hot as hell.

I was walking along Tomas Morato after my carinderia lunch kanina when I saw this dude from far away, wearing a black trench coat, over a white tee and blue jeans.

Then he pulled out this black ski mask.

Then black shades.

I was thinking, "Shit, I'm about to witness a restaurant robbery."

Then the dude wore a red helmet. Rode on a motorcycle, and then sped away. Turns out he was a delivery driver for Dimsum and Dumplings.

But what the hell, a black trench coat in this freaking summer weather?

Jordan

27.4.05

The Road Most Taken

After finishing a meeting at UP Fine Arts, I decided to walk it up to the Sunken Garden. I saw a guy trying to assist his girl companion in crossing the water pipe along the grassy area between _____St, and ________ St. They were only one fourths through its length and it seems the girl was panicking. Some scavenger kids were pointing at them, shaking their heads saying how UP students tend to do stupid stunts like that. I for one admit it’s one of those “things to do at UP before you graduate.” I did it. I even did it four more times so that four people could say they’ve done it before graduating UP.

Actually, one of them didn’t get to finish his course. Count to think of it, I haven’t graduated yet myself, haha.

Walking along University Ave., I passed by a man wearing a Coney Island tee with a stars and stripes motif. He kept on adjusting his cap, and was walking all over the place. I thought it was too early to forget your troubles, but to each his own right? Passing by the Faculty Center, there was a group of girls scattered around, some loitering, and some waiting for a jeepney ride. They were loud and boisterous, I was sure they weren’t UP students at all. Anyways, as I was crossing into the front of AS hall, one girl in the middle of the group all of a sudden started screaming and was trying to rip off her blouse. She was looking at her girlfriends, pleading for help. It seems that one of the trees sheltering them delivered an insect straight right into her cleavage. The low cut front of her blouse was really helpful in giving the insect easy access to a comfortable landing. I walked straight on not wanting to see the end of the prepubescent situation.

Jordan 020505\9:37pm

The Thin White Line

I noticed something odd last Sunday when shopping for some red hangers at Robinsons Galleria. A cute girl in a white baby tee and blue jeans was walking in front of me. Her movement while walking gave people split second glimpses of a strip of backside skin.

It’s the kind of attire enough to cover skin only when you’re standing very still.

So amidst these split second skin peeks, I noticed she had a bikini line. It was high, the kind I associate with t-backs. Cool, the girl was cool. Until it dawned to me that her bikini line was dark, rather than the usual white. Like it was a negative exposure of your usual tan. So how did she do it? Was she the opposite when it comes to wearing bikinis? Is she conservative, covering most of her body that is usually exposed with that kind of attire?

Nah, not conservative considering what was covered is now exposed. Oh dear.

020805\1025pm

MRT Musings

Went to the press to deliver some Final Artwork for a raket I have. It’s located along JP Rizal, and subtly eases my homesickness, as it is situated corner Pateros street, and the street before that is Taguig street naman. While riding back on a Tulay Ibabaw jeep, I passed along a bunch of jeeps parked beside the road with the drivers resting, socializing with each other, but with the exception of one. This one driver dude was dancing a jig, which the nearest description would be the watusi crossed with the chicken dance and the dance the old ladies do on a prusisyon with a popular Virgin Mary incarnation. He was enjoying it as I saw a smile in his face.


While on the crowded MRT naman going toShang, a young dude had that radio sounding voice of “Enemy sighted” in Counterstrike as his text message sound alert. I was tempted to ask him: “Pre’, ano kaba, Counter o Terrorist?”

At the MRT ride before that naman papuntang Tulay, there was this South American, burly built, and mestiso looking Foreigner wearing a coffee colored polo barong. He was talking to a middle aged woman who looked like his missionary companion. He caught my attention when I heard this foreign sounding voice whose sentences were peppered with the word “dollars.” Yeah, for some reason the word “dollars” kept popping up, and it definitely made a lot of people turn their heads and see where it was coming from. I for one thought it was a PA advertisement of some pyramid scheme. I was even waiting for that “but wait! There’s more!” portion. He was unique since besides the attire I’ve earlier mentioned, he was wearing a baseball cap with a drag race fire motif along with this Flag of what probably was his country. Hindi siya familiar, pero it also had the same color scheme of the cap, black and red.

So the MRT was this guy’s stage, and the woman his attentive audience. Meron naman dalawang babae at isang lalake na nagkukumpitensiya sa kaniya sa kwentuhan. When we arrived at the EDSA-Shaw station, the woman was fixing her bag and was preparing to get off. He was telling her to take care and saying thanks for the company. She was busy putting something in her handbag, and I noticed that the foreigner’s hands were also trying to put something in it which she was trying to stop. An awkward scene of two pairs of hands struggling inside a handicraft hand bag. In the end he prevailed, dropping what seems to be a roll of money inside. He punctuated this act with a last thank you, and with that, she stood up. To my surprise, she bid farewell to this group seated across them.. It turns out they were all together, and the other group bid her farewell too. I was waiting for this other group to fill the void the woman left vacant with regards to conversation. But no. The foreigner just sat there, mum. Occasionally looking at the group who kept on talking, not inviting the foreigner to what they were talking about.

Jordan
022605 1251am

Ken?

While in the midst of an ingress (what's an ingress? Ask me:) at the Manila Hotel, a dapper man in white polo and black slacks, with horned rimmed glasses and slicked out hair passed by gingerly holding a pink Barbie and friends lunch box in his right hand, and a corporate folder with presumably big money dealing papers in his left. One diligent father passing through folks. Do make way.

021005\1032pm

Cubao

Watched A Very Long Engagement with Jo at Gateway. I pointed out to Anton the last time we watched a movie there that babes are once again populating Cubao’s dusty streets. You know, the kind you see in Glorietta, Rockwell, or Alabang Town Center. (What’s that Jo? Oh, what about my gender sensitivity lessons during my stint at the Philippine Collegian? Why, its still here. Somewhere... Okay, fine. I won’t address them as “babes.” “Hot chicks” not okay with you too? Hmm… will “girls” suffice? Okay. “girls” is fine. Yes, love you too dear. Oh, and thanks for pointing out the sexy “girls” sitting outside those girlie bars we passed by a little along Kamias while getting to Cubao:)

So what kind of girls were populating Cubao Before?

Masa beauties. (Hah, you thought I’d say Jologs right? Sub genre lang sila no.)

Shouldn’t they be territorial about the place?

Going home, we got a Fairview jeep that passed by Kalayaan Ave., we got off ‘round corner Mayaman and started walking. Paading by ________at., we were surprised to see two guys standing under under the shadows. Geez, Bakal boys! Why were they changing turfs? Was Housing around Quezon Circle already getting hot? So is standing beside the office of Migrante, a progressive group taking care of OFWs a good idea for their likes? Why not the other block where there’s a religious born again group?

It gave me ideas you know. Maybe when I ain’t doing anything ‘round midnight, I’d just step out and stand there waiting for extra money. I have to look for a dark spot though. So that they can see me.

Oh, and one thing about A Very Long Engagement is that it’s a very long movie.

And it won’t be right to compare it to Amelie, two different sides of a coin, that’s what the two are.


Jordan
020505 1:29pm

26.4.05

By Glory Etta!

Observations on a trip to Glorietta and Greenbelt last sunday:

-A tall and fit basketball player came inside Sbarros to eat what it seems to be an early dinner. He was accompanied by her big, overweight wife and baby in a stroller.

I was thinking, the guy was fit because of his work but his wife was overweight ALSO because of his work.

-A kid wearing a long sleeved all silver cowboy suit was dancing at a tropical beach themed stage, complete with coconut trees, sand and blue cool water.

-Powerbooks is trying to be at par with Fully Booked with regards to book selection diversity. They now even have that book of pornstar potraits, but accesible only if you ask the person manning the cashier nicely.

18.4.05

Attack of the Killer Trees

Yesterday, while travelling back to Manila after a Puerto Galera trip along the South Super Highway, we passed by a row of murderous trees, after the Susana Heights entrance, responsible for killing a couple of kid's summer fun evidenced by the numerous kites trapped and swaying on their branches. The wind was trying to be merciful, attempting to free the bodies of the victims but to no avail.

(I had second thoughts on posting this when I realized I was writing the trees in the vein of sinister entities when in fact, they're just minding their own business, swaying to the winds breeze. Oh well, at least I got that out.)

Jordan

12.4.05

Pinilakang Tabing (silver screen) memories

Have you ever tried sitting down and list all the movies you’ve seen so far? I tried it once when I was in high school. It was at first, an attempt to make a list of my favorite movies. Half way I was confronted by the fact that I was a picky fellow and would only watch movies I think, or heard was great. So my best of list actually turned into a list of the movies I’ve watched, saved for a stray film here and there where I was forced to watch it with parents or friends.

And I rarely watch movies with others. I have this notion that the darkness has a purpose when watching a film: anonymity. A secret, intimate relationship with you and the silver screen, which only you and her alone have any knowledge about. It defeats the purpose of anonymity when you come in with someone. It’s like bringing along your friend when you’re off to see your mistress.

Of course, that all changed when I discovered girls. And the analogy has now escaped me. Where was I? Oh, yes. Movies. Listing them.

It was overwhelming! I practically filled up two sheets of yellow paper, back to back. I felt guilty with the black and white (okay, yellow) listing of where I've spent a sizable chunk of my life.

I haven't done it ever since. But thinking about it, It was one of those sporadic moments of me being anal.

I wonder if I'd also be guilty if I track the time I spend peeing every year ("What!? I've spent an estimated week of my life peeing in 2004? Why, I could've done more productive things with that one week of peeing, like, watching movies, and finally playing Final Fantasy VII!")

So where's the travelling part in this entry?

Jordan

8.4.05

Gleaming the Oval

Jo and I were on a UP jeep to do our much neglected sunday jog when we saw a father and son walking towrds the sunken garden. The father was around early fifties while the kid was around ten. What was unique with the two was that the dad was carrying a skateboard. A symbol of Authority, holding a contraption representing reckless youth and rebellion. We really weren't sure who was going to use it on the vehicle-less academic oval. Was the father holding it for his son, or was he going to show him a thing or two about tricks?

Count to think of it, he even looked more like the kids grandfather.

Jordan

25.2.05

Piling Piling Pelikula

While rummaging through SM City Annex Booksale with Jo, this was our line of conversation, on the topic of what movie to watch for that night:

Jo: Dreamboy?
Me: Dream on?
Jo: Let the Love Begin?
Me: Let the Love End?

Of course we were just joking about having those movies as considerations to watch. Hell, when we watched A Very Long Engagement last month, our movie trailer viewing was interrupted by those two’s trailers.

17.2.05

Bakal conversations

Got back home late again. Got down at City Hall and did my late night exercise. Bakal boys littered the sidewalks of Kalayaan. I passed by two of them talking and I wondered, what kind of conversations do bakal boys have? Coming from an outsider like me, I’d be hitting all the stereotypes through and through.while walking along mayaman naman, nakita ko ulit yung dalawang bakal boys Jo and I once saw which I wrote on an earlier entry. Same dudes, except there was a bike beside them.

11.2.05

It's never too late.

if you are a frequent jeepney commuter, your traveling wouldn’t be complete if you don’t get to hear at least one air supply song.

The title of this entry by the way is a title of one of their songs too. One that I would forever associate with a scantily clad woman all of a sudden doing a split in a makeshift stage with a thudding sound that reveals the cheapness of the place.

021105\0421pm

Old friend, it's so nice to see you again

moving into a place much nearer to work gives me time to savor a bit of TV. No cable yet so the channel selection is of a limited escapism. I’m catching up on my commercials too. There’s a funny one about a milk brand so rich in calcium that it’s great for grandparents. Of course they show a grandma still slim, with only a few wrinkles and a few white hair. She gets to carry her apo, swing her even. And her apo gushes out how her lola is so strong, when she is supposed to be saying “why lola, you look like a foreign looking mestisa in her early thirties with make up on to make you look like fifty! That is so great!”

If Sesame Street was a telenovella, the ending remarks would be “this program is brought to you by the number 3, the triangle, and by the sickness called amnesia.”

Also on Unang Hirit, they had the music group Father and Son as guests. They were promoting their new album Mami-miss kita. They’ve apparently undergone major lineup changes since they were once known as “Father and Sons.” I told Jo they were the band who made a living out of the word “miss.” Still are, considering the name of their new album. How distinct is it from their first hit “miss na miss kita” ?

2.2.05

Really now

On the topic of the arts, an artist turned culture and arts savior defined a creative man doing nothing as crazy. And if by chance that man decides to be productive once again, he then returns in the company of artists.

There sure are a lot of procrastinating crazies out there. Ain’t a safe place for anyone anymore.

26.1.05

I'm back, so who cares?:)

I have a friend named Manila. She was named after the place where she was born, so she won't forget where she came from. Good thing she wasn't born in _______(insert any embarrasing locale name here).

Anyways, she's the first one to link me up to her blog site, thus I'm one click closer to blogger civilization.

And she told me it's been months since I've updated. It's been a year actually if you'll take advantage of the new year disparity round january ("We haven't seen each other in a year! When was it? Dec 31?")

actually I've been typing out entries in my PC.

so here is the start of the deluge...

25.1.05

Chicken and Wine

Jo and I ate at Max’s Restaurant at Quezon Ave. a little while. We decided on ordering their Pancit Canton, rather than their Pinakbet, which was our perennial healthy dish in the midst of all the chicken being served there. It was good, too good in fact, that it makes me think there’s something artificial about it. While eating, a group sat beside us. They were behind me so Jo was the only one who can see them. But the voice of the Foreigner in the group was so loud I really didn’t need any visuals anymore. The foreigner was heckling the waiter on why there wasn’t any wine in the menu. “Don’t you use any wine in your cooking?” He asked. When he couldn’t get anything out of the waiter, he resigned himself and ordered a San Mig beer. “Guess I have to be in me good manners tonight then.” I jotted on the napkin, asking Jo if he was with a small beautiful pinay. More than that, she wrote back. He was with what looks like her Mom.

So who was he with? One can only guess to the limits of assumption and one’s personal life. Jo hoped he was with the mom as he was near her age rather than the daughter.

He went on rambling things about London, his chest hair and about the wine again. Red wine in particular.

21.1.05

Happy Two Kings! (groan)

It was the first Sunday of the month, as well as the year. I guess you celebrate the feast of the three kings on the first Sunday of January since everybody who was in the know was greeting me. I got a text in celebration of the occasion and I must admit it was a funny one. It goes something like “let me be the first to greet you a happy two kings, as there are only two left after da king, Fernando Poe Jr. died.”

Mabenta siya. Better go find the fourth one then so they’ll be three again.

I accompanied my girlfriend in getting some groceries in Rustan’s Supermarket at Katipunan. Only a few people were there. She was complaining how vegetables’ prices have gone high, particularly the leafy ones. Thus, no vegetable salad for lunch. They didn’t even have calamansi. But they had a loaf of bread on the greeting cards section. Probably a new novel way of greeting in the line of “if somebody throws rocks at you, throw them bread” messages.

It was January two and I noticed Christmas as well as New Year’s Day commodities still remaining unsold. A pile of big cans of Dole fruit salad on the corner, stripped candy canes still hang in a stand, Keso De Bolas still occupy space in the dairy section, and sweetened hams still available in abundance in the cold cuts area.

Finished with the groceries,were walking along Dagohoy and we see loafs of bread still displayed in front of a house. That imagery, loafs of bread piled in stacks, the kind that are impromptu made for the yuletide season to make a quick buck and are much widely known as “tasty,” triggered memories I’ve associated with the holiday season, nagging me to write this entry.

I was in tagig during new years day. While riding a jeep to bicutan with Reynaldo to visit Manley, we passed by buko seller stalls, closed for the day, no coconuts to be seen, what they had instead were the husks of those they’ve sold for Media Noche. They were piled up so high, the morbid in me couldn’t help comparing it to the piles of skulls from Cambodia’s Killing Fields massacres.

We cooked grilled tilapia for lunch by the way. They didn’t have any calamansi at Rustan’s so I head out to the nearest sari-sari store. They had calamansi for one peso a pop. A small pop mind you. But it was something we needed so I just didn’t made them see me wince as I handed the bayad.

Tumataas na talaga ang lahat ng bilihin. Pero like with everything, we still buy them “kasi kaylangan eh.”
--
In these times of low cut jeans and skirts, I wish for a day that I won’t unintentionally get to see women’s underwear. It is a privilege given wantonly, an opportunity spoon fed. Where have all the excitements gone?

I’d rather meet a woman and think “God, I wish I could see her underwear” rather than “Darn, I can see her undies. There goes one conversation piece I can’t use.”

012105