|  | Quick Snapshots:
1. Ocean Adventure is for kids.
2. Getting stranded in Earl Panganiban's house while a typhoon devastates Manila is cool.
3. Lower Bicutan is dangerous. Even some Metro residents are scared of going there.
4. Australian style of rapelling (face first) gave me the greatest adrenaline rush of my life.
5. Treetop adventure is better without ropes.
6. I discovered I don't like dogs.. much
7. Meeting both old and new friends is the best part of any trip (not the attractions, ehem)
Location: Subic and Pasay
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Here's the deal: Start with 100% and subtract 1% for everything that you've done. Don't bother typing answers to the question, it makes it more interesting! The lower the score, the nastier you are. Then repost as I'm _% Virgin. Tag 20 friends to see how nasty they are.
1. Smoked?
2. Drank alcohol?
3. Cried when someone died?
4. Been drunk?
5. Had sex?
6. Been to a concert?
7. Given a handjob/gotten a handjob?
8. Given a blowjob/gotten a blowjob?
9. Been verbally/sexually harassed?
10. Verbally/sexually harassed somebody?
11. Felt someone up and/or been felt up?
12. Laughed so hard something came out of your nose?
13. Cheated on a boyfriend/girlfriend before?
14. Been cheated on by a boyfriend/girlfriend?
15. Been to prom?
16. Cried at school?
17. Gotten lost in a WalMart or a department store?
18. Went streaking?
19. Given or received a lap dance?
20. Had someone of the opposite sex in your room?
PERCENTAGE SO FAR: 82%
21. Had someone of the opposite sex sleep over?
22. Slept over at someone of the opposite sex's house?
23. Kissed a stranger?
24. Hugged a stranger?
25. Went scuba diving?
26. Driven a car?
27. Gotten an x-ray?
28. Hit by a car?
29. Had a party?
30. Done serious drugs?
PERCENTAGE SO FAR: 77%
31. Played strip poker/darts?
32. Got paid to strip for someone?
33. Ran away from home?
34. Broken a bone?
35. Eaten sushi?
36. Bought porn?
37. Watched porn?
38. Made porn?
39. Had a crush on someone of the same sex?
40. Been in love?
41. French kissed?
42. Laughed so hard you cried?
43. Cried yourself to sleep?
44. Laughed yourself to sleep?
45. Stabbed yourself?
46. Shot a gun?
47. Trash talked someone and then acted like their best friend the next day?
48. Watched TV for 9 consecutive hours?
49. Been online for 9 consecutive hours?
50. Watched an animal die?
PERCENTAGE SO FAR: 67%
51. Watched a person die?
52. Kissed and/or messed around somewhere with at least 1 person present?
53. Pranked somebody?
54. Put somebody in the hospital?
55. Snuck into someone's room and/or your own room after being out?
56. Kissed somebody of the same sex?
57. Dressed punk?
58. Dressed goth?
59. Dressed preppy?
60. Been to a motocross race?
PERCENTAGE SO FAR: 65%
61. Avoided somebody?
62. Been stalked?
63. Stalked someone?
64. Met a celebrity?
65. Played an instrument?
66. Ridden a horse?
67. Cut yourself?
68. Bungee jumped?
69. Ding dong ditched somebody?
70. Been to a wild party?
PERCENTAGE SO FAR: 60%
71. Got caught stealing something?
72. Kicked a guy in the balls?
73. Stolen a boyfriend/girlfriend from a friend?
74. Went out with your friend's crush?
75. Got arrested?
76. Been pregnant?
77. Babysat?
78. Been to another country?
79. Started your house on fire?
80. Had an encounter with a ghost?
PERCENTAGE SO FAR: 59%
81. Donated your hair to cancer patients?
82. Been asked out by someone that you never thought you'd be asked out by?
83. Cried over a member of the opposite sex?
84. Had a boyfriend/girlfriend for over 3 months?
85. Sat on your butt all day?
86. Ate a whole carton of ice cream all by yourself?
87. Had a job?
88. Gotten cut from a sports team?
89. Been called a whore?
90. Danced like a whore?
PERCENTAGE SO FAR: 55%
91. Been mistaken for a celebrity?
92. Been in a car accident?
93. Been told you have beautiful eyes?
94. Been told you have beautiful hair?
95. Raped somebody?
96. Danced in the rain?
97. Been rejected?
98. Walked out of a restaurant without paying?
99. Punched someone/slapped someone in the face?
100. Been raped?
TOTAL PERCENTAGE: 52% VIRGIN!!! | | Hindi pa tapos ang Summer :) |
| | Suroy po sa Cebu :) |
| | I'm finally trained to save lives. After a summer of grueling practical exams, exhausting physical exercises, and endless lectures, I'm proud to say I survived. Rope Rescue, Water Rescue, CPR, First Aid, AED, Basic Life Support, Firefighting, Disaster Preparedness, and Community Health Nursing were covered, and I'm very happy to have been certified in all courses. More than that however, I have learned the values of proactiveness, common sense, courage, and real teamwork. I was apprehensive at first because I'M NOT A NURSE like my co-trainees, but I still gave my best knowing that saving lives would probably be the most important skill I needed to learn. Definitely one of my best and worthwhile experiences in life, and made me renew my commitment to be of service in my own little way . Philippine National Red Cross have made the call and we as volunteers responded well to that challenge. And yeah, we also had a lot of summer FUN. :D |
| | I lost my digicam sa Sinulog. Now is the time for my revenge! This is the hour of the scourge!!! Buwahahahahahaha |
During a Kool Adventure Camp wave specially designed for Aboitiz department heads, a trio of Human Resource executives had the first chance to conquer their fear of heights. Yup, by wall climbing more than a hundred feet up. After all, team building which incorporates adventure-based education is the 'in' thing right now. So why not let the esteemed corporate moguls of Aboitiz experience this exciting training as well right? Anyway, KAC alumni and wall climbing enthusiasts are aware of two commands given to the belayers (people down below grasping the rope to support the climbers). The first is TENSION, which assists in pulling the climber up by the pulling action of the belayers, and SLACK, which lowers the climber to a more comfortable position. One of the three HR heads, which we shall call Madam X, clearly suffering from the discomfort of beng hoisted up too high without a block of wood or stone to support her, shouted the first command. "TENSION!" she called out, which is of course definitely WRONG. Madam X should have said the second command for her to be lowered til she could stand her ground: SLACK. Nevertheless, the belayers responded by pulling her up further, causing her to scream in agony, alarming the old-timers watching. "TENSION! TENSION! TENSION!!!", she repeatedly ordered, apparently frustrated by her adjudged stupidity of her coworkers assisting her below, who continued to suspend her higher in midair. Agonized by the pressure of the harness between her thighs, she let out a series of profanities, trying but failing to mask her fear fueled by the dizzying height.
"B!LAT"! Madam X bellowed, to the astonishment of her co-workers and the Aboitiz Clan themselves who came over to watch. A lot of raised eyebrows from the onlookers dominated the scene, until she was eventually calmed down and lowered.
Hehehe. That certainly cemented her reputation of being demure, and a woman of poise and control. :p
P.S. Text me if you do not know the meaning of the Cebuano word. I'll share it with you. Hehehehe. Peace :)
| | hehehehe... Finally, naka outing na jud mi with family. :) |
I actually cried, honest... I guess you saw this na, but a little more inspiration would help, hehhehehhe.... reach for your dreams! ;)
Download this and other original video files with Multiply Premium. | | Nag bumpcars mi sa mga bata with theri kuya prince, nag pizzahut with my friends Belle and Chuckie from Iligan, and had a pic taken when I delivered pizza to Kuya Jandy. For orders text me at 09274757970. All my team ates from Convergys ni ingon na lami, so believe their testimonial. hehehe. :) (try our meat overload at Php 110 for thin crust and 120 for thick crust, 9 inches) naks, namaligya na noon ko da, hehehehe :p |
| | Prince's family came to visit us a day after the new year, and of course, di malimtan ang pagpicture2. Like us, na close pud dayon ang mama ni prince ug akong mama, friendship sila dayon after nag hug ug kiss sa pag greet, hehehe. Na pud ang pic sa pag birthday ni Hazelbest, pic ni Ken2 (my adopted son), and among first kaon with Convergys Team eMaR. :) |
| | Ayan! First time ni namo sa terrace, nice kaayo. hehe. Nag picture2 sa mga kaila, na sila Nang Gamay, Sir Paqueo, Carta, Bien, etc. Naks. Hehehe,.. Of course, proud ko sa tag singkwenta nga ukay-ukay, the black shirt, so todo picture pud mi, ngeeeks. hihi.. ;0 |
| | Na, grabe jud kaayo sila kakulit. Hehehe.. Saonz ta man, pinangga man ang mag pagumangkon, mao na amo sige ug spoil sa pag treat. Hehehe. Mura pud ko kabalo mu billiards noh? hehehe.. TRy2 pud ko ug blue eyes dire. Ehem. hehehe.. Pics with their Auntie Kate as well, laag courtesy of Lovelyn. Tenkyu |
| | Who's Romel? Ahm. My sister's husband's bestfriend. Layo ra sa? Hehehe. Sagdi lang, apil2 lang gihapon ko. Nag barong bisag dili ko abay, hhhihihihi.. Photoshoot dayon mi with mama and papa.
>> to ate lexie: Sayang wala mo ni Kuya Jory dire te, but we ate your part, so okay lang, naks. mwah |
| | Nov 28 and Dec 7. Karon lang na post, hehehe |
SANCTUARY DEFILED
I recently came across a yahoo news article reporting that Americans are getting less and less nomadic, preferring to stay in one place and settle, contradictory to their classic behavior of changing residences on a whim, oftentimes cutting across several states. Perhaps due to the current financial crisis or due to its aging population, but Americans are now more content to stay put in their current home according to that survey. Hmmm.. What’s a definition of a home anyway? A portion of the respondents said it is where they were born, while another fraction agreed it is where they are currently staying, and another group also said that home is where they went to high school or where they spent a majority of their past. A home. How do you define yours?
A home for me is where you would feel comfortable returning to at the end of each day. Ever had an experience when you could no longer call the house you live in your “home”? When you could no longer bear to return to a place which would remind you of what you are currently going through? Where the familiar faces you see everyday would be still be there for you, but you know deep in your heart that you need to get out. You need to be away, a place to hide, a place to escape, a place where no one knows you, a place you could rest. Maybe, just maybe, you experienced the same difficult moment. Well, I sure did. And I did something about it. I moved out. And I moved out alone. For how long? Well, it was just for a month, but at that time I thought I would be leaving for good, or at least for a very, very long time. Teenage rebellion is a classic in our house, but no one thought that I would do it – not my Mom, not even me. But still I did. I packed my bags (bringing along with me my entire savings, a few books, and a business attire that should at least impress my future employer in an interview), boarded the next Cebu Pacific flight to Cagayan de Oro enroute to my new residence (see previous blog entry, which explains why I would never ever take another 5J flight again) and said a hurried goodbye to my parents, my classmates, and a few closest friends. And then I said hello to The City of Majestic Waterfalls. What’s so special about Iligan? And why of all the places, Iligan? My Auntie Ever sent me a series of text messages asking me to return home and go back to school. And being the understanding Aunt that she always is, she did not ask any probing questions, only telling me that she would help. I said thank you. And then said no, rejecting a tempting offer of a Dakak vacation I have always wanted (a part of her go-back-to-school-and–to-your-normal-life package she masterfully proposed). Giving up, she warned me instead of the dangers of the place. And she has been proven right. Many times. When I heard the news that Iligan was bombed again, I immediately texted my friends and mentors, mostly from St. Michael’s College and Mindanao State University. I was informed that they themselves saw the casualties of the event and told me that the twin bombings occurred in Unicity Mall and Jerry’s Shopping Center (the former is where I usually buy groceries). Two people were killed while more than 50 others were seriously wounded, dampening the otherwise merry yuletide season, and spreading fear to the hearts of the residents once more. It can be recalled that a massacre-like raid was executed by rogue MILF commanders last August in several municipalities in Lanao del Norte, which brutally killed 33 civilians, displaced 6,600 families, and chopped off 1 ear of a manong who narrowly escaped a bolo attack to the head (so gloriously played and replayed several times by the media, feeding the gore-loving masses). On the bright side? Policemen foiled another attempted bombing at St. Michael the Archangel Parish (its interesting to note that he's the angel that God sends to the frontlines in times of WAR) discovering a homemade bomb cleverly concealed inside a big papaya. Wow. Talk about being creative. Haaaaayy.. Looks like a number of families would be greeting the New Year with lesser things to be thankful for. Iligan. The place for me is paradise. It gave me a home when I had no one else to turn to and nowhere else to go to. For a month, it gave me a place to think, a place to reflect, and a place to rest. More than that, it gave me a place to cry. I’m so deeply saddened by the incident that I resolved to include peace in Mindanao as part of my daily prayers. Bombing in Mindanao is expected. I used to have that same thinking before, supremely unconcerned upon hearing news of the latest bombings. But it’s different when there are people that you care for deeply who might be affected, and it’s different when the place once served as your home. Still unconcerned? Let’s try the old put-yourself-in-other’s-shoes trick. Imagine you were shopping in a supermarket, and just when you when you were reaching for your usual 8 packs of Lucky Me pancit canton, you were thrown backward in an sudden powerful explosion. Of course, it’s a bomb. But not just any bomb. It’s homemade. And it’s packed with nails. All right then. Let’s all pray for peace. ***
TWILIGHT SAGA EBOOK (STEPHENIE MEYER)Okay, okay. I am tired of emailing this to people so I decided to post this on my blog. Most of them just can’t get enough of Edward Cullen (talk about a new meaning to the word “bloodthirsty”). Hehehe. My Ate Kate requested me to download it for her, because the versions she found were far less satisfactory than she expected. So I took the task of hunting down the ebooks for her, and found it after entering a few domains. Turns out Luke is right: You can have whatever you want in the Internet for free— if you know where to look. Btw, PLEASE don’t ask me if I have a copy of BOOK 5 Midnight Sun, please wait for the author to finish it, okay? Maybe next year I’ll have the chance to finish at least the first part 1. Enjoy..  BOOK 1 Twilight by Stephenie MeyerBOOK 2 New Moon by Stephenie MeyerBOOK 3 Eclipse by Stephenie MeyerBOOK 4 Breaking Dawn by Stephenie MeyerP.S. Password is alkansiya. ***
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!  Yay! Desperas na! Happy New Year, everyone! As usual, like Christmas, I still have to report to work tonight so I might not get the chance to greet all of you guys. Wishing you all the happiness and blessings for 2009. Still, 2008 was a great year; I met a lot of people who are now very close to my heart. If you're one of them, leave a comment on my friendster. Haha. Kidding aside, thank you for being part of a great year. We’ll make 2009 even better. Mwahugz...  Cebu to Manila is approximately 360 miles and it takes about an hour (on air) to get there. Cebu to Cagayan de Oro is something like 130 miles and is just 25 minutes max flight time. Supposedly.
But we spent an hour and fifteen minutes in the skies on a CEB flight.
Onboard the cramped Flight 5J 207, nothing was melodramatic. This is just the first part of my trip on my way to Iligan. The flight attendants smiled at us, I was one of those few who smiled back, and then we were off. Since the flight was not long, there were no in-flight games, such as guessing the singer of the song sung by one of the attendants (with an acceptable vocal prowess). After all, 25 minutes is a very short time, and by the time the Pilot thanked us for choosing Cebu Pacific, I expected the plane to land in ten minutes.
I did not even finish my bag of Mr. Chips.
Fate gave me a daunting experience I would never forget, sparing me more than enough time to finish my snacks, but obviously, will only give me more chances of wetting my pants. Yup, this is my first near-death experience.
The pilot’s voice spiel of introducing the flight crew over the loudspeaker was cut short when the plane took a sudden descent, eliciting screams and shouts from almost all of the passengers. The engine sound was deafening, it was like hearing a huge 16-wheeler vehicle screeching, trying to start its engines, but failing several times, restarting over and over, accompanied by a whistling sound. I pictured in my mind the wheels failing to disengage or something.
I never knew what that something was.
Something was definitely wrong, and the pretty face of the flight attendant clad in their yellow-orange polo shirts confirmed that, as she not-so-confidently reminded us to be calm and assured us that the plane will just be delayed by a few minutes.
MAKE THAT 30 MINS, I would later fume. And don’t start talking about telling people to calm down, because the old lady in the front of the aisle started screaming and waiving her beads of rosary, praying: “Lord Jesus! Save us! Lord Jesus, hear us! Lord Jesus, help us land safely, help us return to our families! Lord Jesus…!” Well, she obviously ran out of English because she continued by muttering words in Tagalog, punctuated by repeated shrieks of ‘Lord Jesus’. Don’t get me wrong though, I believe prayers do help, but not when your voice is high-pitched and hysterical. She was obviously scaring not only others around her but herself as well; her faith may be immovable but her voice clearly DID NOT SHOW THAT.
What did I do? I panicked; I folded my arms, covered it over my head, and assumed a brace-for-impact position which was quickly imitated by my seatmate.
The small plane took another sudden descent (Space Shuttle in EK, anyone?), but this time, no one shouted, no one screamed. Even the frenzied muttering of prayers in the front died. If a giant protractor would measure the angle, I would give my personal estimate of 60 to 75 degrees below any line parallel to the horizon. I closed my eyes, but peeked at my other co-passengers– most were grimly keeping their eyes closed in an almost forceful way, murmuring curses or prayers, I could not tell which is what (How weird, we were about to crash and I was curious about other people’s individual reactions).
And at that time, I knew then how I would react whenever I would be suddenly reminded of my own mortality. I just prayed, not any of the religious prayers I learned in school, but a fervent stream of positive phrases of reassurance, hoping that everything would be fine.
I also thought of my family, especially my Mom, and I also thought of my closest friend that I haven’t seen in a long time. My last thought? That I never even received my parents’ blessings to have this trip. Oh God, at that time, I was prepared to die, no matter how unprepared I was (talk about understandable but contradicting statements).
But then the plane swerved to a stable position, the engines reverted back to its original humming, along with sighs of reliefs and choked-back tears of the travelers. I just blinked. My mind was blank. I looked around; people were either holding crosses and prayer beads, or putting their hands together in prayer.
I was still clutching my Mr. Chips bag.
For the next thirty to forty minutes the plane slowly circled several times, and I caught several glimpses of the plane turning around a small mountain range and the city coastline before finally bringing down its wheels for landing. During that span of time, no one spoke, but I did hear rapid breathing somewhere towards my left. I was the first to go down the plane, grabbed my bag and left my seat the second the plane came to a complete stop. I ignored the excited chattering of Koreans who were seated behind me, and the Pilot who merely resumed his thank you spiel as if nothing happened; I excused myself as I passed through the aisle, faced the closed cabin door, waiting for it to open.
By the time I went down the stairs of the diminutive plane, I faintly heard one customer complaining loudly to the flight crew. But most of the passengers shared my thoughts: Get out of here; you’re lucky to be alive.
That was August 19, 2008. It’s the first time I published this experience. We departed at 1:55pm from Mactan- Cebu International Airport and we were supposed to land at most 2:40 pm (I reviewed my flight details with my eticket still stored in my inbox). We reached CDO at almost half past three. I never heard any news of the flight, nor did I lodge any complaint. The apologetic look from one of the staff as I got off the aircraft was enough.
I wrote this because a close friend recently took a CEB flight from Manila to General Santos for the holidays. I thought it’s my moral obligation to share my experience .Of course, I am not aiming to influence your airline of choice. I had plenty of satisfactory Cebu Pacific flights in the past. After all, they are the country’s leading domestic carrier, having huge successes with their tagline—It’s Time Everyone Flies. I may have read horror stories of terrible customer service in our AYLA yahoogroups before, but I never believed it. Until I experienced my own. But then again, I am just sharing one, freaky, isolated incident.
But I would never take another 5J flight again.
*BTW, you might want to read other people's ordeal with CEB. This happened some two weeks before my own experience. Be the judge. Read it here.
PROLOGUE Weekends are very much welcome after an exhausting week, but after the last few hours of Saturday, things begin to get just a little bit boring. So I decided to create my fourth blog, while at the same time checking Friendster, Multiply, and chatting with old friends. Reconnecting, in other words; a process that normally calms me, and gives a few smiles and laughs (though I do attempt to brush off nostalgia as soon as it begins). Not now, but perhaps I’ll entertain that mood spoiler later. Hmmmm…A few more minutes and I’ll be turning twenty. An age a few people would still mockingly refer to as “twenteen” as a desperate effort to maintain their teenager status. But then of course, its gets harder as another year passes by, coz “twenteen-one” or “twenteen-two” doesn’t sound as catchy anymore. So we resign ourselves to the positive side of it, starting our INDEPENDENT lives, bidding goodbye to our adolescent years, smiling (or smirking) at the prospect of adulthood. All I’m saying is that I really am getting older, and I’ve repeated that phrase already several times to myself today, though not quite sure as to how it would help add a notch to my level of maturity. For those who know me, don’t contradict me just yet. Just so you know, I have actually started taking control of my emotions, respected life’s normal routines, and tried to be the most understanding friend, uncle, brother, boyfriend, and son in the world. I cleaned my room after 6 months of it being in a state of disarray; and I have successfully conquered my addiction to computer games, and my other addiction that you would all be too familiar about but would never even imagine that I have it. Ehem. Well, I am getting a little defensive here, but I really am trying. Oh, there I go again, okay I’ll stop now. Here we go. NO, NO, THIS IS NOT AN EMO BLOG (1) My most recent blog may contradict this statement. It expressed so much frustration over my shattered idealistic view of love that I sometimes regret ever writing it. Why? Maybe it’s just sharing more than I should’ve. Ever get a feeling that sometimes you’ve poured too much of yourself into someone? Well, in my case, I may have shared more than what’s necessary to those who have read my new (and usually not updated) blog. Henceforth, I shall no longer write about cheesy stuff, teenage angst, or anything related to love. Or at least try not to. GVU-783 (2) I made a mental note to myself as I got off the rusty 04C vehicle that normally plies the Lahug-Downtown-Carbon Market route. Glancing back, I wrote the plate number in my hand. I called LTFRB Region VII upon coming home and gave a kudos call for the driver, who has so graciously posted the newest fare matrix indicating the latest fare reduction from Php 8.00 to Php 7.50. Apart from that jeepney, the rest have ignored this latest update by still giving us a Php 2.00 change from our ten- peso coin, unless we give the exact amount. The driver of GVU-783 not only charges the appropriate fare, but he went out of his way to purchase the new fare matrix and posted it inside the jeep to remind his passengers of the changes— something that other drivers would sweetly ignore until a month passes, and more of the riding public would complain. Coming from a customer service industry, not only do I have a sharper eye for less-than-satisfactory service, but I also have a mouth for compliments to those who deserve it. AQUARIUM (3) I just met Ems again, an acquaintance from Cebu Doctor’s College. We bumped into each other at the fast food queue of KFC, the one located along Jones Avenue. Since she’s merely an acquaintance, I have conveniently forgotten her name, and I struggled to remember while giving her an awkward smile and a forced but cheery “kamusta?” By the time I sat down with Prince, a close AYLC friend I was having dinner with, I was able to recall her nickname, but I gave up trying to remember her real name, let alone which conference or school activity I met her. Then it hit me, and I realized why I was feeling uneasy with her around. I mean, I know that I’m terrible at remembering names, but that doesn’t exactly explain why I was feeling like that. What would explain it was our latest meeting, in one of the operating rooms of Cebu Doctor’s Hospital. That was way back last May, and I was being prepped-up for surgery. The first time I used a wheelchair, the first time I got an IV feeding me (the largest one, as what the nurse happily told me, so a blood transfusion may be done in a jiffy), the first time I was transported using the operating table (with the overhead fluorescent lights reminding me that this does not just happen in the movies), and the very first time I was admitted to the hospital, for my very first operation (with the longest needles in the world for my spinal anesthesia).I was very much nervous (and naked from waist up), when a throng of first year nursing students peered in through the glass window, with Ems among them. Terribly embarrassed, I thought of myself as a fish in an aquarium, as they continued to observe and discuss, with Ems furiously waving and smiling at me upon recognizing my face. I mumbled a little about invasion of privacy as I gave her a weak grin, which I hope showed my courage rather than my obvious humiliation. She was already talking to her classmates about me, when I was about to request the nurse (who was busy putting yellow plastic circles with wires on my chest) to please close the curtains. Too late. One of the doctors in charge of the operation opened the door, and (to my horror) invited the excited students to come in; calmly explaining that the operation is just minor one, that removing an inflamed but unruptured appendix has almost no chances of death. The clinical instructor accompanying the students continued the discussion, pointing out the responsibilities of the nurses, the surgeons, the anesthesiologist, and the other doctors, then leading them to the corners of the room to help them identify the tools to be used and the process of the sanitizing the equipment. Me? I hardly listened. Smiled back to those who smiled at me. Maintaining my grim smile. So much for privacy. I still keep my wrist nametag thingy. It reads “Room 509, Mr Chin, H.R., Male, 19 y.o.” Huhu. I just turned twenty. Relax Heno. At least, my scar is cool.
HOW TO MAKE A DARNA COSTUME (4) 7:30 am. The announcer gamely called out for everyone to register, excitedly announcing to everyone the huge prices at stake for the raffle draw which includes a free trip for two to Boracay and a 21 inch TV set. He then motioned for the crowd to follow him towards the starting point of the oval, instructed them to carry their team banners with feathers, and assemble for the parade. By the time he finished saying all of this, I couldn’t stop laughing that my mama rebuked me, asking what was so funny about what the Master of Ceremonies said. I enlightened her by pointing out the announcer’s mispronounced phrases such as TWENTE WAN ENCH TEBI SIT, or the TIM BANIRS WETH PEDDERS. My mama nodded, understanding what I said, but she apparently overlooked the announcer’s slips, standing up to cheer with the rest of the crowd, as the announcer roused everyone to stand and applaud as the first of the marathon runners quickly circled his length of the oval for the “lighting of the candle ceremony”. I doubled up chuckling again, and was about to comment that it’s a torch lighting relay and not a debutante’s event, but gave up when I saw everyone but me applauding in earnest. Oh well. That happened around late October. Days of less sleep as we prepared Kathleen’s Darna costume. She was picked as her class’ muse for Cebu Eastern College’s Intramurals and Family Day (held in the once state-of-the-art Cebu City Sports Complex), and their theme for the production number would be heroes and heroines (aptly dancing to Fairy Godmother’s I Need a Hero.) How did we do it? Well, her Lola made most of the costume while I helped by making the headgear (with the gold wings and sparkling ruby), arm gears (?), belt, and stars accessories, aided by provocative pictures of Angel Locsin’s character as Darna. Haha. Anyway, my niece won and I couldn’t have been prouder. The day was actually enjoyable, not only with Kathleen smashing the competition to bits by strutting her stuff, but also with more amusing things, such as the pronunciation of the announcer (who I later discovered is actually my niece’s English teacher). It was quite fun really, even though I was once tasked again to take pictures, or to bring the bags, trudging along with Mama as she hurriedly reapplied makeup to the kid. Some kindergarten students wore thicker makeup than her actually; I was strangely reminded of Memoirs of a Geisha. Yup. And Batman was crying, Flash shouting, while Krystala bullied a few students; other kids were also departing from imitating their superhero characters. Boredom eventually came after lunch, but the activity was still punctuated with a few memorable moments, such as when everyone scampered to get away from a bunch of fireworks that could kill people off within a twenty-feet radius (why did they bring it along to the parade anyway?), or when the music unexpectedly transitioned from traditional Chinese ethnic music to In The Ayer. Traditional mom and dad figures accounted for less and less as well, as lolo’s or lola’s and other family members stepped in to fill the role, a proof of the Filipino Diaspora. What else? Uhm, crying kids, balloons either popping or flying away, teachers hoarsely shouting instructions, excited stage parents, Mike Rama giving the keynote speech (introduced as the Vice Mayor, Acting Mayor, and FUTURE Mayor of Cebu City), kids with signs of ADHD eager for the games to start (not to worry though, even Michael Phelps has that), pompoms (or what’s left of them) being strewn about, and the endless stops to bend down and tie the kids’ shoelaces. In short, loads of pure, wholesome, family fun. ILIGAN PART 1: BITS AND PIECES OF THE GETAWAY (5) ...I am currently on my 11th day of my one-month stay in Iligan City. Yes, the very area placed under a state of calamity in Lanao del Norte here in Mindanao. Reports (as well as rumors) of a planned MILF attack to take control of the city have surfaced earlier, striking fear into the hearts of the residents. Well, maybe, but perhaps not anymore. It has been more than a week since the group of renegade MILF commanders stormed the nearby municipalities of Kolambugan, Kauswagan, Bacolod, and Maigo, leaving 33 civilians, four Army soldiers, and three paramilitary elements dead. Not sure with present reports, but that’s the last situationer I’ve read since I came here last August 19. I felt that I needed to do something. I know that it’s not what I came here for, but something needs to be done. And I did, through working with Asia America Initiative… ...I need to buy a pitcher very soon; it has been very tiring lifting the 5 gallon container to refill my tumbler every now and then. Perhaps a plastic one, to save me several pesos; besides, glassware is so expensive anyway, and something made of glass would probably have a life expectancy of two weeks near my presence. (Those who know me quite well would testify that I am CLUMSY. Those who know be better would say that’s just an understatement). I rode a jeepney to the new Gaisano Mall, spotting army soldiers once in a while, and three or four policemen. The situation is a lot stricter at the mall’s entrance: at least 5 guards, seven army personnel, and a SWAT team had been stationed… More to come about my one month stay in the City of Majestic Waterfalls. P.S. I miss Sir Butch, Sir Jamil, Xwai, Able, Eman, Ralph, SMC students and staff, AAI pipz, MSU College of Medicine Students, Sister Yohlee, and especially my PalangGa. Huhu.  Iligan Part 2: Realizations (6) Realizations? I’m not much of a deep thinker, but I did compile a few quotes, all from watching Smallville Season 1-6 in my hotel room at St. Michael’s College Hotel and Restaurant Management Lab. I’m tired of typing, so here they are unadulterated without my pitchy-mushy comments. Enjoy
The man of tomorrow is forged by his battles today. Hiding the truth does help. It helps keep people apart. Quitting is a seriously difficult habit to quit. Accept the cards that fate dealt you, and move on. Be positive, even in the worst situations, it can make you feel good. Avoid a calloused heart. A good deed is its own reward. Remember your very first Christmas story. You’re on your way to greatness.
The quotes are nice right? It gave me quite a boost especially when I was so down during that time, lying alone in the gloom of my room. Anyway, you might just be interested in this paradox: none of these were uttered by Clark Kent, played by Tom Welling, and almost of all these were said by Michael Rosenbaum. That’s right; these words of wisdom were given by no other than Superman’s nemesis, the evil Lex Luthor, across several episodes. Don’t be too surprised though; I like Lex, and I would certainly confer him the honor of being the most intriguing, complex, and engaging character in the series. (Insert your evil laugh here) FINALLY, LIFE’S MOST MEMORABLE EXPERIENCE TO DATE (7) Baguio is definitely the place to die! Hahaha. What I meant was, it’s probably the best place to retire in the Philippines, where you’ll enjoy your last moments on earth — even when you’re old and wrinkled. Our visit to the Summer Capital was obviously short, but was nonetheless spectacular, touring its most scenic sports; Burnham Park, The Mansion, Mines View Park, Wright Park, etc. My most memorable experience? Ironically, not in Baguio’s great outdoors, not anywhere near its romantic parks and towering spruce or willow trees, and not even with its jacket-clad residents and visitors. It’s not even in Baguio itself. To illustrate my point, let’s go back to that very moment… I looked around wildly and peered through the window. Oh God, why even bother? I’m not familiar with any of the landmarks in this barangay. I quickly glanced at my watch and breathed a sigh of relief. No, we haven’t missed our stop yet; it’s approximately another one hour before we need to disembark. La Union? Dagupan? Yet another sari-sari store/ carenderia can be seen outside, except that it is very late in the evening and a bald youth was singing his heart out while strumming his guitar. I couldn’t hear the song from inside the bus, but I assumed it could be an age-old kundiman, or an Eraserheads classic, but then again it just might be contemporary, like Flo Rida’s Low. Haha. I laughed inside my head, smiling a bit at the thought.I blinked twice as I struggled to take in the details of my surroundings; the coldness in the bus, the dimmed overhead lights, and the empty passenger seats across both aisles (except for the driver, a lady near the front of the bus, the sleeping bus conductor in the middle of the vehicle, my sleeping companion, and me. A gnawing sensation made me pause and I tried to remember what happened earlier, as if a temporary amnesia had gotten hold of me in the first few minutes upon waking up. And I remembered. I was dreaming. For the next few moments I tried to remember what happened in my dream, or at least what it was about. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t, and the gnawing feeling came back again as I continued to try and draw back what I could; but it was in vain, like trying to keep water from slipping through your fingers. I closed my eyes; I tried to relax, simulating a sleeping state. Something tells me I need to remember my dream. I was about to fade back into unconsciousness when the bus restarted its engines and abruptly plied its bumpy route again, forcing me to massage my temples to ease a throbbing headache no longer numbed by sleep. It was then that I fully realized that I was not alone, finally noticing the person leaning towards me and curled up in my arms. A sense of deep contentment filled me, not just euphoria, or short-lived happiness, but something I have not felt in a long time. It’s… nice. I couldn’t help but smile while watching my companion sleeping serenely, amidst the bustle of the bus and the flurry of activity outside. It must have been contagious. I was able to sleep peacefully again. …Though I never recalled the dream. This is definitely NOT an EMO blog. Thanks again Helen! I’ll visit again soon. Mwah.  SPOILED MILK (8) For me, working in a contact center not only requires sufficient hours of sleep, but sufficient calories as well. Sensing this, my family had prepared for this eventuality by making sure that there is always available pancit canton, noodles, and longganisa in the fridge, just to make sure that I have something to eat when I am the only awake in the house especially in the weekends (I try to maintain my body clock). Anyway, I got tired of writing this blog earlier so I decided to go down and watch three or four episodes of Friends, and fix myself some snack. Needless to say, I found a milk carton stashed away inside the fridge, opened it, poured a glass, drinking the milk in three gulps. My eyes were glued to the old newspaper lying on the floor, with the headline commending a scavenger for returning most of the 60,000 USD (roughly 3,000,000 PHP) to its rightful owner. The wads of cash were found in Inayawan dump site (sanitary landfill, I mean, not intending to offend any of its long-time residents or any of those managing it). I was about to consider what would I do with that amount of money when I sensed something funny. The milk. The milk was not funny, it tastes funny. It was a bit bitter, smells like sour cream, and left a weird tangy aftertaste. Well that was two hours ago, and I’m back to finishing my fourth blog, and so far my stomach had held its ground for me, even when I was laughing at Phoebe’s and Joey’s method of making wise decisions through quick responses. I’ve heard of food poisoning but I’m quite sure I would still reach my next birthday. Ugh, I have too much free time. My blog is already six pages long. EPILOGUE It’s half past five. And so far, I have ignored my cell phone as I struggled to finish writing, a feat I deem remarkable, considering that I always put it off for another day, discouraged by my schedule, weak grammar skills, and typing speed that even my nephew could beat. (Yup, my writing skills are in question, proven by a copy of my edited open campaign letter way back in second year, so kindly proofread, edited, and smeared by the opposing party for everyone to see). Only my wealth of experience for the past few months have motivated me to share my thoughts, and perhaps even impart a lesson or two. So, I often blog late, thus not fully taking advantage of the so-called “recency” effect. Good luck to my goal of emulating Jessica Zafra, and her unyielding ability to wield her pen as a fairly enchanting weapon. Well, this time I succeeded, at least in finishing my fourth blog. Speaking of goals, here’s my new shout out, something that I am really proud of. I hope this would define my life for many years to come, and this is the first time I have revealed my greatest and most ambitious dream… …Now that I'm turning 20, I finally gave an answer to life's most difficult question... "What do you hope will be written on your tombstone when you die?"... HERE LIES HENO REY CHIN, DIED 72 YEARS OF AGE, THE WORLD'S BEST DAD ...
*** to Helen: why 72? that's the age my Lola died.. I do believe its a long time spent on earth already, plenty of opportunities to do what you want to do with your life.. ...Also, who wants to die with more wrinkles? haha.. Somehow, 'aging gracefully' doesn't apeal to me that much. And, (this must be related to Dwight's comment below) what matters is not how long we've lived, but what we've done for the time given to us.. (p.s. I'll be unli again soon, Helen :)
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 | hi heno! kamusta na? hows life? =) |
 | best! amping! hehhehe. how slife na ? been very busy? i miss ebu na and all of our friends... take care! |
 | js dropping by.. wish u well.... |
 | i lost my phone twice since amcham. My number is 09274757970. Hehehe. Looking forward to seeing you. Mwah |
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