tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86865942024-03-07T15:17:24.426+08:00Romanticism in Metro ManilaExperiences and musings in metro manila while commuting, and then some.Jordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-51567367387600571072009-09-19T01:28:00.003+08:002009-09-19T01:46:18.505+08:00AratilisI was on a MRT/SM/Trinoma jeep to work last Monday when two young women hopped in for a ride and sat beside me.<br /><br />They smelled of Aratilis, and childhood memories came flashing back to me unexpectedly. Memories much older than Raspberry Crush cologne, Obsession perfume, and Johnson's baby cologne regular.<br /><br />But it is of the same time period as Johnson and Johnson's No Tears Shampoo.<br /><br />Jordan<br />091909<br />1:46amJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-63591894509346544012008-12-11T10:11:00.002+08:002008-12-11T10:18:26.372+08:00Brrrr....There was a cold breeze last Sunday, the day of Paquiao's fight. It felt good, like it was meant to be on that moment. Then I relaized, yeah, it's December. Christmas time. Of course it's meant to be cold.<br /><br />Then I remembered that it was the one thing I missed during last years Christmas season. It was hot then, and made the season missing something.<br /><br />JordanJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-17925527308352369832008-12-07T06:12:00.001+08:002008-12-11T10:06:35.070+08:00KalaroA young couple, with their daughter of around 4 to 5 years old were sitting with me behind the FX going to Saint James/C5. We were both going home at the end of the day. The kid was sleepy, resting her head on daddy’s big thigh. Daddy was complaining how the aircon wasn’t that cold, and that her baby couldn’t sleep properly. A very burly daddy, fussing over an aircon vent so his kid can sleep soundly. It was sweet, you should’ve seen it.<br /><br />Around a few minutes, after crossing Congressional at Mindanao Avenue, the kid fidgeted and cried out: “ Daddy…”<br /><br />“Ano yun anak?” Asked the Dad. Both him and mommy were concerned.<br /><br />“Computer…” she replied.<br /><br />The couple laughed at their daughter’s reply. They thought (hell, I thought) she wasn’t feeling well and needed something. Ventilation perhaps, as the aircon wasn’t helping.<br /><br />“Sige, Computer kaagad tayo. Gusto mo bang makita friendster mo?”<br /><br />“Games…” was what she said.<br /><br />“Sige anak, games tayo pagdating na pagdating natin sa bahay.<br /><br />Yup. The kid misses her playmate.<br /><br />JordanJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-26510353754282941082008-12-07T05:47:00.003+08:002008-12-07T05:53:55.158+08:00Maalis, TayaIt was a sign of the times when in the last Mallwide sale at Trinoma, I saw a girl casually doing her Chinese garter jumps, amidst the bluster of people walking inside.<br /><br />Girls once used to do that outside their houses, amidst the bluster of neighborhood street.<br /><br />Sigh.<br /><br />JordanJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-76385431152714333122008-04-06T18:08:00.003+08:002008-04-06T18:18:25.974+08:00Rise and ShineI recently discovered once again the magic of early mornings. That time between solemn night, and bustling day.<br /><br />It's like the inbetween in travelling, like palaman on where you came from, and where you are going.<br /><br />Well, minus the traffic noise of course.<br /><br />And like all things magical, it's hard to catch it, especially if you tend to sleep between twelve and two am.Jordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-83347741272302099942008-04-03T18:17:00.003+08:002008-04-03T18:22:56.479+08:00Holyweek RuminationWhile going home on Boom's pimped out KIA Pride after a Coffee session at Tomas morato, we passed by some women standing with distinct body languages along the side of Quezon Ave.<br /><br />It occurred to me that some people probably capped off their Holyweek by hiring a callgirl at Quezon Ave, or a Bakal Boy along Quezon Circle.<br /><br />Jordan<br />032408<br />04:47amJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-85246284165760569752008-03-28T16:53:00.001+08:002008-03-28T16:55:55.645+08:00April is Graduation Month<p class="MsoNormal">The first time I rode a taxi as a commuter was in 1999, when I had to go somewhere with a girlfriend who had trouble with Quezon City’s pollution. It was a moment of empowerment for me then, a mode of transportation previously only rode with adults. I was showing off to all the people around us at Philcoa, that I, at the age of 21, was a man now. I can now commute on a vehicle of convenience. I still couldn’t afford it, but still.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />On that same year, occurred the second instance of me riding a taxi. I was, for old time’s sake, to fetch, and bring a former girlfriend to our college graduation. She wore a pretty dress when I arrived. She told me a story inside the taxi, of her persuading an activist batchmate of ours to join the ceremonies. “You deserve it.” She said to Biboy, regardless of your issues of proper education we did not receive (could’ve been better, always). He agreed, so he was there, and she was proud of that. She also confided in me then of her hopes to be noticed by a batchmate of ours that night. She wanted to move on from me, and I bid her luck on that matter. It was the least that I could do, as I bid farewell, and waited a bit on a corner to see the sights before leaving. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />See, I dropped my thesis then, and even though I wanted to believe that it was our graduation night, I wasn’t part of it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />Jordan</p> <p class="MsoNormal">032608 </p> <p class="MsoNormal">11:32pm <span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span></p>Jordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1145210807826777732006-04-17T02:04:00.000+08:002006-04-17T02:06:47.826+08:00Hello NeighborDo check it. It's related to travelling\commuting:)<br /><br />www.whereische.blogspot.comJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1145210425462411912006-04-17T01:55:00.000+08:002006-04-17T02:00:25.473+08:00My, my, my<p class="MsoNormal">My God, has it been THAT long?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Okay, okay. Things happened. Writing this, I get this certain sense of Dejavu. I was defending myself, writing on a stark white template that I didn’t create this blog just because of the blog fad. That I actually thought and planned hard for it, sweating every entry to get the most of my life’s commuting.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So here I am doing it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A baby of mine long neglected. Let’s start with some small stuff shall we?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">-I rode the red tricycle going back to the apartment yesterday after a trip to Shaw MRT station for some DVDs. The driver was young, late teens probably. I told him my place, and hopped inside. I noticed that there was no glass panel in the front window. I quickly brushed the kid off as a slow driver, as he dutifully waited the tricycle in front of us to make his turn and speed away when he could’ve actually made his own turn now that he already had me as a passenger.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After finally making his turn though, he suddenly pumps up the accelerator, making the motor roar like crazy and cutting the tricycle that was in front of him in the line, narrowly dashing between it and the tambays in the other side. Quickly reclaiming the stereotype of youth’s rashness, I wanted to confirm from him that a passenger has already flown out of the front window after an instance of him breaking, reason why there was no glass panel in his tricycle.</p> Jordan<br />061706<br />1:58amJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1122872521391307402005-08-01T12:34:00.000+08:002005-08-01T13:02:01.396+08:00'Wag na 'Wag Mong SasabihinNever 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />These are all based on reliable sources people. Just watch all those Korean Telenovellas, you'll see what I mean.<br /><br />Jordan<br />08010501:03pmJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1122295673382623482005-07-25T20:45:00.000+08:002005-07-25T20:50:51.610+08:00The Ghost in You, He Don't FadeI met Erap face to face last July 4, at the MRT station in Kamuning.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />That is when I got to meet Erap.<br /><br />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.”<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /> 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Glad the former president could help.Jordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1122295314708081612005-07-25T20:35:00.000+08:002005-07-25T20:41:54.713+08:00LolaLast 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Jordan<br />071905/10:32pmJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1121224118609210702005-07-13T11:10:00.000+08:002005-07-13T11:08:38.616+08:00Eggjust 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.<br />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.<br /><br />I hope its hard boiled.<br /><br />Jordan<br />071305Jordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1121166350311364482005-07-12T19:03:00.000+08:002005-07-12T19:05:50.320+08:00CommuteHere 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.<br /><br />Basically you commute if you don’t have a car, or any private utility vehicle.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.”<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Now that is a nice thought.<br /><br />Jordan<br />071205/12:35pmJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1118644176764856182005-06-13T14:27:00.000+08:002005-06-13T14:33:38.196+08:00Who'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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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!):<br /><br />“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.”<br /><br />Who am I kidding. The pun was intended.<br /><br />I got to stop myself from singing the chorus.<br /><br />I also told Jo that it just may be her way of making herself feel good with her age, dressing up like that.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Jordan<br />061205 12:54pmJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1118644008503919292005-06-13T14:25:00.000+08:002005-06-13T14:26:48.503+08:00Of Filipinos, Sex, and MoviesIf we base it on how films are rated here, Filipinos have a high tolerance on sex and violence.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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?)<br /><br />Lo and behold, kids were running around the movie house. And the MTRCB rating sign outside says it's a Rated GP film.<br /><br />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?<br /><br />Yep. Darth Vader is a good endorser of chocolate, ice cream, burgers and whatever merchandise you can think of that is geared for children.<br /><br />Jordan<br />061405 1:33amJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1118643338090983662005-06-13T14:13:00.000+08:002005-06-13T14:15:38.090+08:00Cats and HumansFour 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.<br /><br />Jordan 053105 21:48 mnJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1118643553589649932005-06-12T19:17:00.000+08:002005-06-13T14:19:13.590+08:00Getting High on Booksalein 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.Jordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1118643457250800662005-06-10T14:15:00.000+08:002005-06-13T14:17:37.250+08:00At the MallA 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.<br /><br />-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.<br /><br />But they were also slow, so we overtook them.<br /><br />Looking back, I noticed that the woman had a week old stubble in his chin, and realized she was a he. <br /><br />Aw, still a sweet couple for me.Jordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1115355522216038182005-05-06T12:58:00.000+08:002005-05-06T12:58:42.243+08:00Trench coatsI 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?<br /><br />Trench coats are cool. But I don't wear them.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />but I don't wear them.<br /><br />It's hot here man. period. and Trenchcoats, the real deal ones, are hot as hell.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Then he pulled out this black ski mask.<br /><br />Then black shades.<br /><br />I was thinking, "Shit, I'm about to witness a restaurant robbery."<br /><br />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.<br /><br />But what the hell, a black trench coat in this freaking summer weather?<br /><br />JordanJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1114574314704743262005-04-27T11:59:00.000+08:002005-06-13T14:11:03.136+08:00The Road Most TakenAfter 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.<br /><br />Actually, one of them didn’t get to finish his course. Count to think of it, I haven’t graduated yet myself, haha.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Jordan 020505\9:37pmJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1114573908419406352005-04-27T11:51:00.000+08:002005-04-27T11:51:48.420+08:00The Thin White LineI 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.<br /><br />It’s the kind of attire enough to cover skin only when you’re standing very still.<br /><br />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?<br /><br />Nah, not conservative considering what was covered is now exposed. Oh dear.<br /><br />020805\1025pmJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1114573623475669492005-04-27T11:46:00.000+08:002005-04-27T11:47:03.476+08:00MRT MusingsWent 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.<br /><br /><br />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?”<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Jordan<br />022605 1251amJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1114572678558233492005-04-27T11:30:00.000+08:002005-04-27T11:31:18.556+08:00Ken?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.<br /><br />021005\1032pmJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8686594.post-1114574996656778442005-04-27T00:10:00.000+08:002005-04-27T12:09:56.656+08:00CubaoWatched <em>A Very Long Engagement</em> 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:)<br /><br />So what kind of girls were populating Cubao Before?<br /><br />Masa beauties. (Hah, you thought I’d say Jologs right? Sub genre lang sila no.)<br /><br />Shouldn’t they be territorial about the place?<br /><br />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?<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Oh, and one thing about <em>A Very Long Engagement</em> is that it’s a very long movie.<br /><br />And it won’t be right to compare it to Amelie, two different sides of a coin, that’s what the two are.<br /><br /><br />Jordan<br />020505 1:29pmJordanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16126538729900923585noreply@blogger.com0