The Willie Revillame Issue.

If there is someone I wouldn’t want to be right now, that would be Willie Revillame.  He has a record of making controversies and escaping them within a hairline.  But will he escape this massive petition to take him off air this time? The “passive” viewers who couldn’t care less what monkey dance he does in his show have now taken an interest to oust him in his new “home”.

I tried to understand the logic of his actions.  I am not a TV person but I am not ignorant to it either.  I saw him joke around noontime shows for a significant number of times during my college days.  I laughed at his slapsticks, but one thing is for sure, I’d rather be scrubbing floors than be paid money to become his object of ridicule that he calls “jokes”.  It was insultive, he was beseeching insinuating innuendos, and while it makes other people laugh, deep down inside, you are not sure if you are laughing because its funny, or you are laughing because you are silently relieved that you are in your home, safely watching him on television– too far away to be on his little spotlight. Continue reading

Zabadini Escapade

Apparently, everyone has heard of Zabadini except for me.  It was my first time in the persian restaurant and I instantly fell in love with the ambiance.  I love that we can sit on the carpet, play with the pillows and even eat on a low table as if we are cozily hanging out at home.  The restaurant manager told us that Zabadini means “Core of Goodness”…oh goody goody good.

Continue reading

Make some love. Earn some living.

 Do what you love…for me, is a bad career advice.
How many times we find ourselves saying it to other people?
How many times have we been fed with that cliche?
Too many to count, I guess.  It has become an integrated part of our growing up.
Our seniors would often highlight their success by saying they have succeeded because they are doing what they love.  Don’t believe them. They are successful because they are good at what they do.
And no, they are no more lucky than you are.
Thing is, we are complicated, multi-faceted, and our interest shifts as time goes by.
We do not only love one thing.

We love a lot of things. Continue reading

The Kikay in Me

As much as I want to act tough and no matter how many times I steal my brother’s clothes to wear them, I still like being feminine.

Yes, I usually have days where I just don on whatever is on the clothes rack and just paddle my way out of the house like an ugly duckling, swaddling and all.  I don’t mind if I don’t wear make up or I don’t wear high heels on every party.  I even smuggle my trusty havas in parties because, as we all know, high heels have a way of straining our legs and patience.  But hey, women have high tolerance for pain, why do you think we end up with jerks sometimes?

I’m certified KIKAY. I love make-up, I adore shoes, and I drool over gorgeous men handbags.  I feel happy when, out of the blue, someone would say I look beautiful and healthy.  I find it interesting how I look and feel different when I dress up.  I get amazed at how tight dresses can make my waist smaller and my bust bustier…not that such clothing are advisable all the time, lack of oxygen due to tight wardrobe can be very dangerous.  You tend to say things you don’t mean *haha.

One certified kikay thing I do is my penchant for skin cleansing kits.  Not that I religiously apply them, I just like having them around.  Makes me feel feminine…whatever that means.  I grew up with a mom that had a salon, so I grew up seeing beautiful women strut around.  I like watching women with beautiful faces.  I just don’t like it when I begin to stare…they tend to get uncomfortable.  Even in my photography, I like taking photos of women’s faces and features…it’s just sexy. Continue reading

Men Will Never Change

Dear Abby,
I’ve never written to you before, but I really need your advice on what could be a crucial decision. I’ve suspected for some time now that my wife has been cheating on me.
The usual signs… phone rings but if I answer, the caller hangs up. My wife has been going out with the girls a lot recently although when I ask their names she always says, “Just some friends from work, you don’t know them.”
I always stay awake to look out for her taxi coming home, but she always walks down the drive. Although I can hear a car driving off, as if she has gotten out of the car round the corner. Why? Maybe she wasn’t in a taxi? I once picked her cell phone up just to see what time it was and she went berserk and screamed that I should never touch her phone again and why was I checking up on her.
Anyway, I have never approached the subject with my wife. I think deep down I just didn’t want to know the truth, but last night she went out again and I decided to really check on her.
I decided I was going to park my Harley Davidson motorcycle next to the garage and then hide behind it so I could get a good view of the whole street when she came home. It was at that moment, crouching behind my Harley, that I noticed that the valve covers on my engine seemed to be leaking a little oil.
Is this something I can fix myself or should I take it back to the dealer?
Thanks, Stuart

BLISS

Having the girl in red stilettos around is kinda nice.  After a year or so of not stepping into a salon, I suddenly found myself being pampered at Bliss <— it’s this salon beside blue gre in landco.

Yammy has a way of tugging you around in places you’d usually ignore…in my case, the salon.  I have my own “mani and pedi girl” who visits me twice a month.  And growing up with a mother who used to own a salon means I have only to visit my mom and harass her  for my needed grooming. Hehe parang aso ^.^

As a woman, I like being pampered.  And when we were ushered to the area where we will have my nails done, I saw MY couch and fell in love with it. HAAAY. You bet I stayed there for hours. hehe. Continue reading

Philippine Six Sigma Conference 2010

Six Sigma Plan, a project methodology, if I am correct as to how I understand it, is something I really need. 
With my jewelry business and adhering advocacy campaigns at the same time, this   methodology could be a lot of help for me to improve in my business attitude and strats and my organizing skills.  I always seem to have this problem of finding myself in an organized mess…and in hype of it all, overlooking very important things…accomplishing projects in complicated way when I could have done it simpler…as easy as 1-2-3 had I known exactly what to do at the right moment. Continue reading

upon sneaking out..

Wear the darkest clothing available. To accompany your dark thoughts and to burn a theme when you stick to the shadows of the cold night when you do an escape. Shadows become your bestfriend…the cold wind warming an even colder heart.

long strides to accompany deep thoughts, you sprint a long circle that sometimes lead you back to your own solace. They won’t find you there.

But a dose of more than enough can sometimes satiate a hungry soul. You have come to do what you have wanted and find it to your liking…but not enough to make you want it.
You look at it and find that it is still what it is…but the craving waned.
The curve of hunger is not as as it once was.
You’ve come to realize that it was what you just needed but you need it no more.
And you open your hands to let it go. And you smile to yourself knowing it was one of the things you will always remember.
And you see it slowly wave and turn as it finally jumps out of your reach.
You have no sense of loss…it wasn’t yours to begin with.
You have no feeling of regret, it has served it’s purpose.
You don’t run after it, it’s meant to be free.

You walk away and it doesn’t pain you to look back. It did not change to hurt you…but there is change within.
You will always laugh when you remember how it tickled your sense of longing…because the longing is no more there.
It waves and you wave back.
It will call you and you have no problem answering it.
It will still stir your interest but you’ve ceased to become its mistress. You were never sure if you were anyway… and you will giggle at the irony of it all.
And as you taste the adventures in your tongue and smell the sweetness of having it with you for a while, you sigh…knowing it was just what you had wanted and needed. It was exactly what you had wished for… and you do not care if the dream had ended…All that’s important is that it happened.

silent ode to the invisible.

My lips are numb.
My fingers are too stiff.
My eyes are dry.
My mind too weak to find excuses.
My spirit too disillusioned to even dream.

So this is how one feels when one is at a loss.
When one sees reality all too plainly.
When one gets stabbed with the sharp truth.

Can I ask for immunity?
From the pain?
From the mounting hurt?
From the fear that chokes?

Can I borrow?
a shallow laugh to wipe the tears away.
a hollow hug to make the burden a little lighter?
a reckless moment where I can run so I can chase my floating dreams.
a crayon to color the moments of solitude.
a longer sleep to oblivion to wash the nagging truth.

Can I, just for once… pass through walls?
…through people?
…through time?
to wander aimlessly…
to touch the stars…
to burn with the sun…
to laugh with the waves…
to conquer dragons…
to name new lands…
to create new worlds…

humming silence wanders across the room and beyond. Along with it is my roaming mind, chasing the red diaries of the sane, prevailing beyond the hateful reality of not being able to vanish upon will. All the while preparing the sheets… tying them together, making sure it is roped correctly, tied tightly to the window, as I prepare to jump to the little escape the world is offering.

Outside, I see no one familiar.
Outside, I will not be suffocated with lies that once drove me to madness.
Outside, no walls to abide and no bricks to scamper from…no cup to pour my blood on…no boxes to store my heart…No smoke to make me cry.

Outside…where there is nothing to hold on to and everything is new. Where the strings no longer have its magic and the words pure and true.