Showing posts from January, 2012

the triumph of luv over everything else

(please click here for the first part of this story.)
against his wishes, i took my apo to my chalet to better take care of him. i also wanted to know what's ailing him this time. for god's sake, he is not getting any younger. he can't keep on doing this, shutting everyone off and hiding from the world every time something is not right. i also wanted to know why he quit his last job, a fabulous one overseas. something is not right, i know. as usual, his poor, helpless mother, pacita, doesn't know what to do. it has to be her mother-in-law who has to do the dirty deed for her. don't get me wrong. even if pacita did not call me, i was really about to come to his place and get down to the bottom of things. i am starting to get worried. i luv my apo and i don't want anything bad to happen to him. i have seen it before and i don't want it to happen again. it's sixteen past midnight and he is fast asleep inside the guest room. i asked the nurse to leave us a…

dial m for madam m

(**repost -- first posted on october 4, 2011. watch out for the second part of this post. chos!)

salut! you probably missed me. well, i hope you did because these days nobody misses me except those people who are under my payroll, my parrots and my puppies. how sad! it’s been over a year since i last guested in my favourite apo’s blog. i think he abandoned it for a while too, if i remember it right, when he went on a hiatus to find his soul, something that's really hard to do since genetically speaking, he has none. he came from a family of soulless kleptogarchs, so we don’t care much about the soul but of the glitter of gold. there i said it at last. i have been dispatched to write this because my apo is again nowhere to be found. i mean, he is not in the mood to do anything but mope. you know how he is dahlins, so you know these episodes when all he wants to do is lock himself up inside his room and do whatever it is that he does best for days. ******** since i care about this blog, …

the world as we know it

the world is a shrinking, tiny village. here are the great events in the past several days that happened all over the globe. in pictures, because i am a vision person. chos!
can you tell what happened by just looking at these photographs?

oh di ba?!
if you don't understand what most of these photographs are saying...then it's time to restart rethinking your priorities (hahahaha. chos!) and follow this link: or any other online news such as interaksyon of channel five, philippine star, bloomberg, reuters and of course, euroweekasia.
that's all!

rain, crane and two tragic luvers

(a scene from the poignant film norwegian wood, adapted from haruki murakami's book)

it's raining outside. relentless, stubborn rain. i feel a tad sad. the rainy weather always brings out the dramah queen in me. i feel like crying for no reason at all.
speaking of sadness, this poem (scroll down to read and weep) always makes me blue just like the beatles' norwegian wood. while i don't fully fathom it's meaning (i am not intelligent so i don't get all the metaphors and symbols hidden in each word), i could feel the poet's pain while putting words into his feelings.
We make our meek adjustments, Contented with such random consolations As the wind deposits In slithered and too ample pockets.
For we can still love the world, who find A famished kitten on the step, and know Recesses for it from the fury of the street, Or warm torn elbow coverts.
We will sidestep, and to the final smirk Dally the doom of that inevitable thumb That slowly chafes its puckered index toward u…

can't afford tom

because i can't afford his elegant suits, classic shades, posh shoes, among other tom ford goodies,  i am posting this picture which i found on the net.
i so luv it. it says a lot about the man behind the designs - bold, unafraid, classy, smart, creative, flaunts his gayness without a hint of femininity and most of all -- gorgeous. i luv!

because he is already a god in the fashion world, mr. ford no longer needs to advertise himself by posting pictures of his designs that appeared in fashion spreads.  in fact, he turns them down already.
if i were rich, i would fill my closet with his wares.
oh i found this picture too and it's a classic tom ford too.

that's british actor nicholas hoult (looking oh so gentlemanly in tom ford designs),  who starred in that fabulous film a single man that mr. ford directed and adapted from the christopher isherwood book.

more tom ford/nick hoult pics:

the shades, scarf and jacket are to die for.

they make a luvly pair.
to say that mr. ford h…

what middle class?!

(**please don't take this post seriously. it's politically incorrect. for those who have no sense of humor and don't understand irony when they see it, go away! chos! parang teddy locsin lang ang peg ha.)

while having beer at our favorite watering hole in wan chai called amoy (it's an acquired taste, mind you), my new expat friend asked me in his purfect &+@& accent why there are a lot of middle class in the philippines. and if they are fun to be with.
"are they stiff and snobbish?"
he is convinced, bless his naive heart, that i am upper class.
(i am wondering what gave him the impression and what made him so sure that i hobnob with the zobels, the ayalas, the cojuangcos, the aranetas, the roxases during summer at the hamptons and winter at the bahamas? god knows, i have been hiding my social background for so many years by speaking english with a visayan accent that i am now convinced i am working class. oh well!)
before he asked me the ms universe …

be careful what you pray for

god (or whoever is up there), indeed, has an uncommon sense of  humor.
(i say this with a grateful heart)
for the past few months, i have been praying for a job overseas. it really doesn't matter if it's in singapore, tokyo, dubai, hong kong, jakarta or new york. it also doesn't matter if it's a writing or editing job, though i always prefer to be a reporter. it also doesn't matter what beat to cover - lifestyle, tourism, new technology, fashion, entertainment, bonds, stocks, currencies or commodities.
gosh, i even applied as a war correspondent in the middle east, but failed to snatch the job when the editor (i was interviewed over the phone) asked me if i've had some combat training. i said no, but told her i've covered the coup d'etat in makati, particularly the one launched by now senator trillanes in oakwood.
plus, i told her, i came from a military family and we lived for a long time inside the military camp where soldiers fired their guns on any…

tell me again what's the smell of the rain

dear  you,

yes, the wonderful you. i know what you are doing right now. sleepless, troubled, bothered? sitting on the veranda right outside of your room, staring at the darkness. it's raining, yet you can't sleep. everyone else is now asleep. in fact, the whole neighborhood is humming, dreaming, like there is a contest on who can snore the loudest or sleep the most deep. the rain has cast a spell on everyone and put them to sleep. even the usually noisy cicadas are quiet.

except for you. you keep on thinking -- what's going to happen now? tomorrow when you go to mass?  when you see your friend r again. i can tell that you are confused. guilty. scared? i hope not.
but you are thirteen. too young to know what's going to happen next. you wish there is someone, like a magic mirror, that can tell you what lies ahead.

life, at this point, is like the teevee soap operas that you luv to watch along with your mother and sisters -- there is always a big question that's hang…

two princes in a pond

"young, young man. did anyone ever tell you you look like a young prince out of the 'arabian nights'?" -- blanche dubois, a streetcar named desire.

i have always luved blanche dubois. i feel her -- delusional, living in her own private world, promiscuous yet pretends to be coy. so gay! last night, in late celebration of my forty third year on earth, i hopped from one bar to another even on a tight budget. luckily, like blanche, some kind strangers paid for my poisons for the night -- stella, lots of it, tequilla and mojito. no cosmo for this not so grand old dame, i reserve that for sinfully lonely nights. when the mean reds strike cruelly like a phantom without the opera. or too much of it. chos!

inside a bar surrounded by hong kong's young and beautiful, i swayed to the beat of raining men, holiday, material girl, like it was the wild eightys and ninetys again. what can i say, the filipino band luv them as well. then there was adelle, singing out her heartache in a…