Magic Monty: On Males and Strippers

Yes, I have been to a strip club. Maybe three times. Or four.

The first time I went to one it was this, well, nice place on Timog Avenue. I was still in college and I was with college friends. Most of us were girls though we had one male pal with us, supposedly to "protect" us, but in fact we ended up protecting him. I went there as a girl who wanted to see the hardened male bodies gyrating to the cheesiest love songs (along the lines of Air Supply, mind you); I wasn't there to observe the state of humanity. It was indeed the best attitude, getting into this kind of thing.

Captured from the Magic Mike trailer.
Yes, this is how we react to the sight of a naked guy.

I enjoyed myself and ended up finding this particular stripper oh-so-cute. When the night ended, us girls who were enrolled in the premiere state university of the country compared notes as to which guy we thought was good looking, which one had the best body, which one had the most interesting looking, uh, schlong. I was probably twenty-one and as my exposure to actual naked male bodies at that time were only limited to the naked frat boys on the Oblation Run, the male strippers I saw that particular night had the best bodies I had ever seen.

Magic Mike: yes I will yes.

Years after that I did get to visit strip clubs mostly for the, well, inane purpose of finding a stripper for bridal showers. I did notice that the bodies of the male strippers I encountered then kinda declined: they were smaller, paler, less experienced. Or maybe the strippers were finally younger than me and I was no longer that girl who watched the yearly Oblation Run who shrieked at the sight of a dangling, uh, stinky pickle.

There was this one time we hired a stripper for a bridal shower and we went to this bar on Roxas Boulevard. When we talked to the manager, he lined up the available boys execution-style and shone his flashlight on each of them, saying, "Ito? Ito? O gusto ninyo 'to?" (This one? This one? Or maybe you like this one?). It was one of the most horrible feelings ever. Finally, we chose this guy and when the night finally came, I insisted we feed him and I ended up talking to him about his family and his life as a stripper. He never mentioned it, but it was implied he had a lifeline connected to someone more affluent, maybe a mamasan or a gay lover.

Them sexy things.

Anyway, as I have been thinking of relaxing this weekend after days in the wilderness and recovering from urban shock, I debated whether I should take my nephew to see Ice Age 4 or I should finally give in and watch Magic Mike. Now, why do I want to see Magic Mike? Aside from the fact that the exotic male dancers are portrayed by the likes of Matthew McConaughey, Channing Tatum, Alex Pettyfer and True Blood hot wolfman Joe Manganiello, it's directed by Steven Soderbergh, the guy who did Full Frontal, Erin Brokovich, the Ocean Eleven sequels, and one of the sexiest films ever without the usual graphic sensual scenes, Sex, Lies and Videotape with the very drippingly hot James Spader. And it has a current rating of 78% fresh rating in Rotten Tomatoes, hehe.

Although Magic Mike has all that potential, at the moment I am fiercely loyal to the best male stripper film I've seen so far: it's about this six out-of-work workers in a formerly thriving English industrial town. You know what I am talking about. To quote Todd Wilkinson's character in the movie that pretty much describes their group Hot Metal: "He's fat, you're thin, and you're both fucking ugly".

Of course, the best scene is the one where they all strip. But the one with "Hot Stuff" is freaking hilarious. The following clip alone seduces one to go watch it. Now I am itching to dig up my The Full Monty, the VCD copy!

Anyhow, with this male stripper film in the cinemas now and memories of The Full Monty flooding my head which is why I have been laughing out of nowhere, I remember this thing I read years ago, a question which can still be mind-boggling: why is it that when guys see a naked woman they suddenly fall silent while we girls start laughing at the sight of a naked guy?

Does this still ring true, now that we are constantly exposed to casual nakedness? Hmm. I should see about this bunch of naked guys and find out myself.

Where the Wild Things Go, What the Wild Things Do

Jumping off a cliff. Maton River, Apayao province.
Photo by Anna Varona.

I guess things just happen.

Finally, I have managed to go on an adventure trip with the Last Wild Bunch, the wandering force behind an upcoming kick-ass TV program. I am still stunned by it, even by memory.

Let me just enumerate this suspension; I am astonished that I ---

1. Rode a 4WD pick-up truck and crossed the back mountains of Benguet which includes numerous river crossings that are tire-deep. The thrill was that it happened in the evening. Oh, and we emerged in the province of Pangasinan afterwards and then went back to Benguet via Kennon Road.

2. Went white water rafting in a quite wild segment of the Chico River, the Tucucan-Anabel run. Glad that I didn't fall off the raft, but there were few moments I thought we'd flip over... without meaning to. Oh, and on the plus side, I took a jump into the river from a jutted rock about eight feet from the surface. Not too high but it was a rush!

3. Took part in a magnificent ride through the Mountain Province, particularly in the Barlig area. The views were astonishing: mountains, mountains everywhere! And the mountains are covered with thick forests that you just want to kneel and pray it will stay that way forever.

4. Spent the night in Barlig Centro and explored its rice terraces. It was amazing walking through the golden tiered fields, especially as a lot of them were ripe for harvest! Met very impressive people and I was so impressed by the culture. Self-preservation is inherent among them. Learned a few things about the wild plants that grow along the paddyfields and chewed on some wild mint as we balanced ourselves on the dike which is at least six feet above from the next paddy.

5. Traveled all the way from Barlig, Mountain Province to Apayao via Banawe-Nueva Vizcaya-Isabela-Cagayan Valley. That was insane. The trip lasted as long as going to the Mountain Province straight from Manila that we had to spend the night in Tuguegarao. We had the option to travel via Barlig-Natonin-Paracelis and then Kalinga province, but due to the previous bad weather we didn't want to risk it because of the road conditions. Actually, the morning we left Barlig they had to clear a small portion of the road due to a landslide; and to think it merely rained for an hour or so the night before.

6. Apayao, in itself, can pass as a statement. First of all, I didn't know that Apayao was already a separated province from Kalinga; I studied parts of Luzon and it used to be Kalinga-Apayao... back in grade school (haha). Second, who would have thought that Apayao is such an amazing place? Speaking of, say, perceptions I thought Apayao was just a boring province with mountains and an interesting history involving head hunters and the usual "threats" that come in the form of the New People's Army. But what the heck. That province is such a wonder.

7. Went spelunking in the Lussok Cave. One of the best cave mouths I've seen although unfortunately there are portions of the cave that were vandalized. The challenge in entering though is one has to swim or ride a small boat. We didn't have the latter, hence, we started swimming. From the swim you climb up and then you get an amazing visual ambience: the glistening wet ceiling, the different hues of gold and brown, the brilliance of the greenish water. Oh, and the stalagmites actually made my imagination run wild; they gave me the impression that a lot of dead souls have settled in this cave.


8. Rapelled inside the Lussok Cave as we reached the last cavern we explored. It was probably a 50-60 feet drop. It had been a couple of years since I did any rapelling, but the rock face was a challenge. I lost my balance and ended up slamming on the side when my foot slipped inside my slippers thus I lost my footing. I was a bit shaken but afterwards I wanted to shout WHOA!


9. Tasted the gamey Apayao cuisine. They still serve dog in this province although--- "legally" --- for special occasions only. They served us bayawak (monitor lizard), duck cooked in blood stew, and tons of chopped and spicy pork insides. Same with the other portions of Cordilleras we visited in this trip, we encountered pork kilawin which is pork cooked in vinaigrette, similar to a ceviche. When we camped in Nagan River the locals served us the fruits of the river wild: frog, fresh water eels, and these fresh river prawns known as udang (I think, haha). The porters picked betel nut straight from the tree and they chewed away while trekking. We had wild boar in this small community at the mouth of the sanctuary which the locals caught the day before. The food, in my opinion, is quite wild and gamey, a sign that the hunters' blood still run strong among the Apayao people.


10. Trekked the Agora Wildlife Sanctuary. Wow. This place is unbelievable. It is a lowland forest, very thick with a very impressive ecosystem. Sightings of the Philippine Eagle have been confirmed; in fact, the Philippine Eagle Foundation went up the rocky mountains of Agora the same afternoon we made our way to camp in the rocky riverbank of Nagan River. The hike is dry but muddied until you get into the forested area. The trails were wet and mossy, there were several "river" crossings, and we managed to stop by a few portions of the Nagan River which is incredible. There is actually a part where a huge boulder sits in the middle of the river and a huge tree has sprout out of it. Believe me, it's like a fairytale.

My shoes and I have been through a lot. Taken during its last
full mountain trek. Cinco Picos, Zambales, 2010.

11. Lost my two beloved trekking footwear :-( I was wearing my Merrel hiking shoes until we got to the small community/camp at the mouth of the sanctuary. I then noticed that the sole was broken due to the heavy mud (oh, and of course my shoes were already five years old). I had to leave the shoes in the camp and then change into my Sandugo outdoor sandals. Twenty minutes into the continuation of the hike the strap got broken thanks to the mud. The porters were kind enough to lend my their slippers and they had to walk barefoot the entire time. I had been thinking of getting new ones but I never thought that I'd leave both of them in wilderness of Apayao. The locals were so kind.


12. Experienced one of the most amazing night skies ever during camp in Nagan River. The camp itself was a challenge; to get there we had to cross the river, waist-high. The moment we settled it suddenly rained. One of the guys feared that the water would rise that he had to make markers. The water did rise almost to the critical level (as he marked it) but eventually it receded. The rain ended, the locals cooked a very tasty dish of freshly caught river prawns, and we watched the stars as a bonfire roared on. And I saw this amazing shooting star that only two of us at camp saw: it looked like a meteor and it's pretty near the earth, and then suddenly it split into three. It looked like a mini one-directional explosion, if there is such a thing. It was a few seconds of wonder.


13. Rode a bamboo raft on our way down the Nagan River. Actually, in addition to the rowers and the supplies we brought, I was the only one who rode it because of its size. My guide/escort and the local porters commanded me to ride because I was so slow, thanks to the oversized slippers I had to use and the very slippery non-existent trail we took which forced the troop to walk on muddier trails and slippery boulders with moments of crawling on the side of river cliffs and swimming across the other bank. I felt quite guilty, to be honest, but it was an incredible ride. I looked up the canopy of trees and saw tons of birds and different-colored dragonflies. It was a different kind of wild white water rafting. I had to suggest to the Apayao tourism officer to make an activity out of it as part of their tourism promotion.


14. Drank too much mountain spring water which I love. I am probably magical right now.


15. Had one of the most scenic drives: the drive back to Manila consisted of the beautiful northern Luzon coastline which gave us a view of Claveria, Cagayan Valley and then Pagudpud as we took the Apayao-Cagayan-Ilocos route. It was a very long drive but there were perks that our eyes feasted on. When you think about it, the trip in itself is like one of those ultimate roadtrips. After all those days in the mountains, I couldn't help but shriek at the sight of the sea.


Well. I just wrote from memory. I cannot believe I am back in the city. But I really stand by what I said in a previous entry: I am not "back to reality". This whole thing has been my reality, from that moments I landed on my ass in Agora when I slipped downhill to this very moment sitting in my apartment in Mandaluyong, with the high pile of laundry and the Hip-Hop Abs DVD waiting for me just so I can keep the blood pumping.


No wonder I am seriously considering joining the UP Mountaineers this year. I need some excitement. Besides, I think I was sold on this ad they posted on Facebook:

"Sis, am I going to find my true love in U.P. Mountaineers?"
Answer: Go to the orientation. There are many broken hearts who get into sports instead.

HAHAHA!


Unfortunately, I couldn't attend the orientation; however, in times like these, I always remind myself of this line from James Joyce's The Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man:


"But you cannot have a green rose. But perhaps somewhere in the world you could."


An'labo.

Happiness is a Backpack

"She's not a girl who misses much..."
- Happiness is a Warm Gun (Lennon/McCartney)

"Backpack, backpack!"
- Dora the Explorer

Last year, I mostly traveled with a suitcase, the first time I did so after oh-so many years (okay, maybe not that many)--- and it did feel strange. I had mostly travelled using a backpack even though I would be gone for weeks. The convenience of using a backpack is pretty obvious: even though it's a burden on your back it makes you more mobile horizontally, vertically and all its directional possibilities.

When I first started using a backpack in a, well, "backpacker" sense I was in my mid-20s, finally liberated from the fears of independent travel thus courageous enough to go on what I used to call back in college as "Lonely Planet-ing". Now, in my early 30s and after a year of suitcase traveling, I am faced again with the prospect of having this thing on my back, scaling mountains (literally) and exploring places I haven't gone to before.

A mark of a real sexy leg: a splatter of mud,
feet wrapped in hiking shoes.

Am I excited? Hell yeah. Scared? Even more.

I am worried about the physical requirements of going outdoors, to be honest. I am not hardcore; I just like to do things and it is my ambition. Preparation is important; I have gone on hikes where I suffered because I wasn't physically prepared. Heck, I threw up in my sleep when I was on Mt Kinabalu and I've noticed going heady in the first thirty minutes of any climb because of altitude sickness. My problem now is, yes, I am anything but prepared.

I don't sound very encouraging.

I will be off to the mountains very, very soon and I am SO excited. But I have to say that everyday realities have dampened this excitement because I have been too busy that I haven't even packed yet. The backpack hasn't been dusted off, the shoes are still caked with dried mud. I am far from being a proper explorer because I have been too anchored. I feel like I am being thrown off into the unknown, into this familiar place of not knowing.

Then again maybe that is the entire juice of happiness: you will just realize it while in the middle of it. It is not necessarily marked by anything. Maybe, when I make my way up north, freezing on a bus, the wave of relief and wonder will just hit. It's like that moment of carrying heavy load on your back: you'll notice that amidst the pain the prize comes in the form of experience that cannot be easily contested. It's in the miles you cover, the places of immersion, the universe suddenly rolled into the marks you make on your map.

Sometimes I cannot help but roll my eyes every time people remark this statement when a vacation ends and they go back to the daily grind: "back to reality". Why do they consider such experience a mere escape? Do we go on adventures to "get away" from our lives? How come it is not part of reality?

To be honest I don't want to think of these moments of adventures as compensation. It's part and parcel of the entire picture. It's also the reason why you breathe, it's not just a reason why you have to work.

But anyway. Funny how a friend told me to "relax" while I'm away. I told him it's going to be far from relaxing. I can just imagine bruises, cuts and moments of screaming my head off and complaining why I subject myself to these things--- and then afterwards I complain why I do not do it most of the time. It's like that song that goes, "So I walked under a bus, I got hit by a train, keep falling in-love, which is kind of the same... and it felt so good, I wanna do it again". A masochist's theme? Nah. I call it luurrvvee.

Besides, if I want to relax, I have a comfy couch in my living room and my Y Tu Mama Tambien DVD to keep me entertained.

I am no longer fat, but I am still voluptuous

Damn you, ca-lo-rieeesss!!!

This is a shameless post. But then again, why should I be ashamed especially if I want to share something that a LOT of people are probably trying to, say, solve?

This time, I am going to talk about weight.

I was a stick insect. I was one of those kids who weighed eighty pounds at almost five feet. I was thin before I hit puberty that neighbors suspected I had tuberculosis and even my aunts and uncles muttered "malnourished" at the sight of me. Seriously. I was that thin that my eyes seemed big and everybody called me kuwago (owl). I used to run to my grandmother and cried because teasing was so mean among kids, and I wasn't so sure if kuwago was less offensive than kabayo (horse) which they called my neighbor Cheryl. My lola had to point out that they called me kuwago because I was smart and had high grades, and that my other playmate was a bigger kuwago than I was (count on my grandmother to make me feel waaay better).

When the teen years hit I started to have, say, more flesh. I can still remember when this happened: it was the week I returned to school after missing out on two weeks of schoolwork due to chicken pox. See, I had chicken pox to thank for: not only did I gain a bit of weight, but at that time I discovered the wonders of Chin Chun Su which our househelp prodded me to use so I would avoid potential marks due to the pox. Ah, that "pearl cream" that flooded the Chinese drugstores! Chin Chun Su was so popular it can probably beat different variations of glutathione in the ass. And it's waaaay cheaper too!

Going back to the weight. Anyway.

For most of my life I was pretty toned and slim. I wasn't thin-thin --- my younger sister got the "thinner" gene. I was fit because I was active. When I started working, I was a member of Slimmers World and then Fitness First; I actually HATE running but I pushed myself to go on the treadmill. I made it a point to climb at least one mountain a year. I went to as many travel-adventures as I could. My muscles were awake. I was burning, burning... and why does it --- what's the word --- BUUURN!

Well, until I got older. And quit the gym because I would rather watch 30 Minute Meals with Rachael Ray than go on a spinning class. Ka-bam.

My advocacy is No Carbs Left Behind.

Of course, MANY people had to remark that I got fat even though I am not fat or say, "overweight", by definition. Yas, ang taba mo!!! Yas, tumaba ka ba? Yas, bakit ang laki ng hita mo? Yas, I didn't realize you have BOOBS! Huh. My friend Liz actually had to tell me several times of that fact: I wasn't fat, I just used to be way thinner, which is, really, a kinder way to say that I've gained massive weight. Fine, I gained at least ten pounds in three years. Satisfied? When I was hospitalized and I was on steroids I gained so much weight that I weighed more than Bridget Jones on a bad day. Satisfied?

The thing is --- why sit on my ass and complain and feel sorry for myself? It will eventually amount to another ten pounds!

Of course, in addition to the fact that it felt strange for me to look in the mirror and see myself, well, growing, I was concerned for my health. It's the usual complaint: I was heavier thus I felt heavier. Moments of struggling to breathe. My knees were starting to ache. I was scared to climb a hill. I like to read health articles and it usually scares the shit out of me (like they're my horror fix). And man, the torture of being told by certified, uh, persons of mass that I was horizontally challenged! Oh, my mental and emotional health!

The quest to at least keept at it was through efforts of working out at home. I have a couple of DVDs on yoga, pilates, and Tae-bo Jam! But man, it was hard. I love to eat and I love not to exercise. My post-work routine was cook, eat and then lie on the couch to watch TV; I even pushed myself to survive through the junk on the tube until I get to the real junk which is the paparazzi TV show TMZ before it hits midnight (which I luurvve). Still, I my Body Mass Index was a few knots from the "overweight" line!

But something happened this year. Oh, how life can change by one small thing: I let my cable get cut.

Can you believe that the lack of television has, at least, contributed to my weight-loss program? Since I live alone I can do whatever I want --- and yes, that includes prancing around naked, theoretically speaking --- one of the things I like to do is when I get bored, I roll out my yoga mat and pop in a workout DVD!

Yes. I admit. I do Yoga-Flex with Kathy Lee, Tae-bo and Turbo Jam with Billy Blanks, and even Kristin McGee's MTV Pilates workout. I am a fan of Hip-Hop Abs --- I always make it a point to have a date with Shaun-T and the gang at least thrice a week. I see them more than I see my family and friends!

I am not saying I have significantly lost weight but with the rate I am going right now I am going to need new pants in less than a month and I can prance around in a string bikini for all I care. I actually lost weight, interestingly, after I got out of the hospital, when the steroids were tapered off. But then again, prior to that event I was already on my regimen: I actually started last March. See? The pounds I shed off didn't seem obvious until May, two months after I started it. It does take a lot of work and discipline. And it takes time.

It is indeed a struggle, especially if your body's wheels are no longer in its former form. I have been also changing my diet, and that too, was crucial albeit quite difficult. Basically, it's simple: eating less rice and carbs. I also control my portions. Drink as much water as I can. Drink more green tea, eat more fruits and vegetables. Cut down the junk and fast food, especially soda. I don't deprive myself of sweets, but when I really have to, I prioritize a small bowl of mixed fruit from the supermarket. Oh, and I haven't smoked a puff for more than a month. Yay!

The secret, I guess, is to make it a habit and then make a lifestyle out of it. When I feel like it, which happens at least once a week, I go meatless for a day. For example, I have a cereal drink in the morning, my favorite vegetarian banh-mi at Wabi-Sabi for lunch, my mixed fruit for snacks and then a simple lettuce-tomato-carrots-cucumber salad and a fruit in the evening. When I eat pretty heavy during the day, say, I did go for a cheeseburger, at least a cup of rice with meat, and maybe a doughnut, I try to "cleanse" it by having green tea in the evening and then I go hip-hop abs-ing in the evening and then yoga to cap it off. I also like to walk; there was a time last May when I went home to the Manila house from San Antonio Village in Makati on foot. Seriously. I did get a very bad blister because I was wearing flats, but did it get my heart pumping!

By my estimate I have probably lost at least five pounds since March. That's not much, but considering  I work full time, thus I sit of my ass most of the day and I am NOT on the Biggest Loser.  Not bad.

The downside, however, is that there have been tendencies for perfection, if you know what I mean. Sometimes it felt that it is not enough, like I need to lose more weight. I still look at my thighs with murder in my eyes. I slap my small belly for existing and I always check the state of my arms. It's not really psycho but for me, that's motivation. I have plans to run this weekend for fitness' sake because even though I have been working on my core, endurance is something that I really need to work on. The truth is, weight management does not stop; you do not really do it for the weight, it has to stick with you, as much as possible, for life.


Besides, let's admit this one true thing about weight management and body toning, this objective that unites us all, this one bit that keeps us going and shell out those moollahs, the Benjamins, the anda: it all boils down to what Kevin Spacey says to this gay couple in American Beauty:

I want to look good naked.

Pinning, aka Visual B(H)oarding

I discovered Pinterest during this dramatic period in my life, reminiscent of those Derek Zoolander moments where his perfectly bone-structured face tilts up to the heavens and asks, "Who am I?"

This dramatic moment, actually, was spent mostly watching cooking shows and wishing that I have that job where all I do is go out, plan for dinners, get-togethers and socials, shop for food, cook in a shiny The Hamptons-type of kitchen, and put stuff in my oven as I strut around in a low-cut dress, looking a bit like Giada, as pretty as Nigella, and as sosyal-ly domesticated as Ina. Oh, and with the high talent fees and royalties, of course!

However, being wishy-washy can get boring so I resorted to actually thinking of something practical, and then I suddenly remembered these heaps of self-help stuff, from The Secret to The Purpose-Driven Life. As I had no plans to read (was in a TV watching phase), I decided to go the more creative route and reconsidered this thing called vision boards.


I've actually heard a few vision board stories which normally goes something like, 


I decided to put together a picture of my life, so I saw picture of this house and I pinned it on the board, and after x-years, without realizing it at first, I have been living in this same house!


That's basically the gist. The main point is, I guess, if you put it on the board, you are kinda willing it. Something like conspiring with the universe --- if only the universe can understand what that board means and is cooperative, HRMPF!


Anyways--- maybe the universe was conspiring because the next thing I knew, I was signed up for Pinterest and I started hoarding... I mean, Pinning!


What I actually love about Pinterest is that it gives you the opportunity to look at the pins of other Pinners: your access to information by way of images have become more astounding. I have seen tons of ideas for fashion, design, food, and some products. I actually love visiting the Humor boards because I normally get a kick out of the stuff people come up with which normally comes in memes and hilarious Someecards.


I started my board "For the Home" (how typical) as I initially saw many pins on home ideas. I think, through this exercise, I managed to find out what I really like. There's a touch of eco-friendly and modern, but I don't want to miss out on classics like inner courtyards, rustic brickwork, ironworks, vintage chandeliers, and French windows. I must say everything is on Pinterest. So far.


There was an issue though. Apparently, the "earlier" Pinterest functioned more like a marketplace which means if you pin anything, Pinterest has the right to sell it. I think Pinterest got the entire idea twisted, but then they revised their terms and conditions. Another matter was copyright infringement: this excerpt from an article from the Northern Arizona News explains,


The newly updated terms and privacy conditions, which go into effect on April 6, explicitly explain how content will be managed and copyright will be handled. In regards to “re-pinning,” the terms state that, depending on the individual account settings, users can “display, reproduce, re-pin, modify (e.g., re-format), re-arrange and distribute your User Content on Pinterest for the purposes of operating and providing the Service(s) to you and to our other Users.”


Of course, the issue here is that, if I pin it or repin it, do I claim ownership of the work? The problem is that when pinning many users do not credit their sources, especially the artists who made them. Another problem is that, for example, I found a pretty picture that I wanted to pin and it turns out that the picture I saw was uploaded by someone who does not own the picture, hence, the link of the picture I pinned goes to that, say, "illegal" source. It's pretty confusing.


I understand the consequences of such practices, but hey, this is the Internet. This is the whole point: accessibility. I guess, in order to make this social media effective, we need to instill among the users the importance of citing sources, aka saying something like, "Designed by..." or "Photography by..."

Anyhow, at the moment I am loving the website because it is like Reddit for those who like visual things. And of course ---

And with Pinterest, you start having serious thoughts about grammar. More than twice.

Cupcakes and Traffic and the Circus

As we were about to wrap up our most recent Sunday, aka Father's Day 2012, dark clouds and thunders rolled in. The rains were pretty horrifying; it was pretty strong. Good thing our family had already gone home post-affair and pre-crazy weather: the baptism of my niece and then a brief F-Day sweet snacks at Slice at the Bonifacio High Street, in that pretty new and slick end.

So! To start the week off:

Slice at the BHS

I'm a little cupcake, hear me roar.

I was pretty glad that my sister remembered a dessert place we could flock to other than the usual coffee shop --- and what I mean by "the usual" my eyebrows are pointing at those Western franchises with caffeinated concoctions that normally taste the same (but we are pretty addicted to, unfortunately).
Slice offers the usual pasta, sandwiches, soup, etc. but the main highlights are the sweets, particularly the cupcakes. It was nice they promote the cupcakes according to their health benefits like the presence of fiber, antioxidants, and other great stuff. The calorie counts are left out, of course, haha.

I must say that the cupcakes seemed healthy: they have a good dose of selections with fruit or vegetable cake base and toppings and stuffings. My parents loved the Banana Berry and Morning Glory and my sister in-law had the Pineapple-Carrot Surprise which my two year-old niece, surprisingly, went crazy about. I went the chocolate route and had the Choco Madness which was supposed to be good for me because chocolate is an anti-oxidant and a good pick-me-upper. My four year-old nephew chose the Chocolate Stirrer after pointing at this chocolate bar with a stick in the display case; this turns out to be a sort of milk-and-dessert plate, served with a tiny pitcher of warm milk and you're supposed to stir in the "stirrer" until it melts or you can always opt to bite the bar and finish it off with the milk. Messy and fun and healthy. Many articles have underlined the health benefits of chocolate like in this article from The Huffington Post.

We pretty much enjoyed our snacks, the place was cozy but full, and the waiters were apologetic naman should certain orders get delayed. Cupcakes are at around Php70-80 a pop, which doesn't seem bad but they're pretty small. We enjoyed the coffee but my brother complained his drink (I think it has some "lava" word in it) was too sweet for his taste. I definitely loved the wooden chopping board-like serving trays for the coffee, and I thought it would be lovelier if the cupcakes joined the drink on the platter.

I was just surprised that the cakes were pretty expensive. I remember the cakes, like the blueberry cheesecake, at Php 290. I would have liked to try it, but would I want to order something at that price if I could get a sandwich instead? I thought it wasn't practical, I could always get my cake fix elsewhere. I would definitely go back though should I am around the area for a treat. I just hope they have free Wi-fi. Free wi-fi in commercial establishments should be a law :-D

But You Didn't Have to Cut Me Off

... IDIOT.

Nah, not necessarily crazy about that Gotye tune (it's not bad, it's just FINE), but I keep thinking of this meme every time I encounter douchebags on the road. Which is, in this fine, fine city of Metro Manila, EVERY TIME.

Discipline on the road and that typical road courtesy are SO DAMN HARD to find in Metro Manila. Why? Because many drivers here are not properly trained. We let people drive as long as they can manage to make a vehicle to run. That's it. You can buy your license from a fixer lurking around the Land Transportation Office, and I haven't heard of an actual drive test ANYWHERE in the Philippines. There you go.

I almost had an accident because I was going straight to cross the intersection and I was on the left lane, and then suddenly this guy on a motorbike, out of nowhere, takes a LEFT. What an idiot, if I ran him over, will it be my fault? Many drivers do not use their blinkers properly and ALMOST ALL PUV drivers are inconsiderate when it comes to loading and unloading people. It seems like they only switch lanes WHEN THEY FEEL LIKE IT and they do not care if there is a long line of vehicles behind them as long as they get to wait for potential passengers. Unbelievable.

Frankly, I am just pissed that we have morons driving on the road. I hope they can be a moron somewhere else, not where lives are at stake. What happened to this proposed (?) law where PUV drivers will be given a proper salary so they do not have to zigzag through the traffic just so they can get the first dibs on the chance of having passengers because they earn according to quota? I thought that was supposed to be implemented this May. And it was supposed to be MANDATORY. How come it seems nothing has changed?

As usual, in this country, I won't be surprised if it is all forgotten or it is shelved because the politicians have already declared a cause for votes but didn't really do anything about it. Again, we are sufferers of national ADHD.

The Rebel Circus on Jam 883 --- rebels to go?

Speaking of ATTENTION... my sister and I arrived at work today as Scotty and Sasha of Jam 883 were wrapping up their morning show The Rebel Circus (sans Show Suzuki). The spiel went as I turned off the engine and we were about to get out of the car when suddenly they mentioned about leaving by end of June.

Are Scotty and Sasha Leaving Jam 883?

We were kinda astounded. My sister and I looked at each other and thought, WHY? WHERE ARE THEY GOING? Why why why? Are they getting married? Are they leaving the country? Is Sasha --- OOOH --- pregnant? Is Scotty --- GASP --- deported?

Do these guys have any idea we are loving them now after Hillary left the Scotty and Hillary whats-that-morning-show-called? And that they're the only morning radio show we like to listen to?

But anyway, we had to get out of the car and pay this nice parking manong in yellow for a day's worth of occupying space in San Antonio Village in Makati.

Life goes on. As usual.

(Blind) Patriotism?

We love this flag.

When I heard that Manny Pacquiao lost the game last Sunday I was immediately disappointed. I think it's a natural reaction: I am not a boxing fan but I have somehow been rooting for him although I am not too sure if politics and preaching go together with punching. But anyhow, I had to know why he lost, if this Bradley person was better than him, and if it was a fight that should topple him from a string of victories.

Apparently not. A lot of people are crying foul.

It has been a few days after the fight and a lot of people are still talking about it. I can just imagine the regular Dhong still bellowing curses and, if the viral photo was real, Mommy Dionisia would still be recuperating from a fainting spell after the defeat. Jokes have come and gone about Birkins and luxury cars, but what the heck, according to a computation I saw on Twitter (was it ANC?), every time Pacquiao makes a punch he makes more then FOUR MILLIONS PESOS which he would get post-fight. Whoa.

Of course when Jessica Sanchez lost I was as disappointed. I thought Philip Phillips was good but not as technically good as Jessica, and I am not saying this in manner of blind patriotism, a term that I have been seeing a lot lately (yes, from Jessica Sanchez to that controversial Ba-yo ad). She is just a lot more talented than the white guy with guitar, but then again Jessica Sanchez did not have the entire force of the website Vote for the Worse behind her which apparently has been claiming the victories of all WGWGs in the past five American Idol seasons.

Naturallement, a lot of Filipino people cried foul. Some even dragged China into the issue. Chinese daw si Jessica Sanchez? China voted daw for Philip Phillips?


Offensive. Proud. Defensive. People have been calling us "Flipinoys"; I saw a lot of that in YouTube comments, usually from people outside this country. Why? Because we like to claim madly, we defend too passionately, we get offended too blindly. Of course I felt somehow offended, but in others' defense, oh but it's true. It's supposed to be Pinoy pride. Is it? What is it? How is it Pinoy pride?

We celebrated the country's Independence Day yesterday; yesterday morning I watched mostly animated features on cable (Megamind and Ice Age), in the afternoon I went to a meeting, and in the evening I was mostly channel surfing between cooking shows and confrontational reality TV-shows until I fell asleep to Terminator 2. Of course, as most holidays go, I did not have to, say, pretend that I had to do something, say, holiday-related yesterday. None of us watched the celebrations on TV. The shopping malls were obviously crowded. Life went on, but not necessarily if we are on TV.

How do we really carry our flag? I think this is an important thing to ponder. Do we do this at a celebrity level: support Paquiao like mad, defend Jessica Sanchez, etc.? Or do we get insulted when someone makes a remark about our country and our race, ie Terry Hatcher's character in Desperate Housewives, Claire Danes, etc.? Do we get angry at the guy and his crew who made the video 20 Reasons I Dislike About the Philippines but then love them again because they made 20 Reasons I Love the Philippines?

If we get offended, are we patriotic? We are free because we wanted to, we are free because we defended it. Several times. After fighting for our independence, do we have to fight again for pride?

Symbiosis somehow comes to mind.

If you prick us, do we not bleed?
If you tickle us, do we not laugh?

Back in high school each student was told to recite this quite famous monologue from Merchant of Venice. This episode was pretty memorable: believe me, almost 50% of the class kept saying "If you prickle us..."

And of course, in true Pinoy fashion, all we could do was laugh. I won't be surprised if jokes are made out of it or if China, somehow, is dragged again into the issue.