The Red Light District

This weekend is proof that misfortune can follow you anywhere.

I joined a tour that started early Saturday morning and it took me far enough away from Manila to not feel the enormity of the recent typhoon Ondoy disaster. I only saw the aftermath, and what an aftermath it was–still is. But it didn’t exactly spare me and the thirty others who joined the tour from our share of malas. What was supposed to be an enjoyable food trip took an interesting twist—90 percent of our group got food poisoned and had to delay our going back to Manila not only because of the typhoon but also because we all had to be tested at a local hospital in Pampanga. (In fairness to the organizers, we were all pretty pampered and taken cared of and for that I am very very grateful.)

It was really horrible, waking up in the middle of the night with the inexplicable urge to just vomit or, uh, GO. Some of us had to be confined to the hospital—those who were are still there for the night. I can only imagine, though,  how it must be like for the hundreds and thousands of people stranded in Marikina, Pasig, Rizal and all the afflicted areas in Metro Manila. One of my friends in facebook even saw the dead body of a child while making his rounds in his village. Facebook was filled with one status message after another reporting horrible, horrible news. I saw on TV that a six-day-old baby had died during the storm. My friends who live in Marikina were affected—one said the water had already reached their second floor while another shared that their family’s bakery is gone. Their family business. Most tragic of all was that of my officemate’s—her lola and tita passed away during the flood.

It’s incredibly heartbreaking hearing all these news and knowing that every report could actually be what one of your friends is going through. God what a draining weekend. Physically and emotionally.

I can only hope that this is already our country’s rockbottom and that it wouldn’t sink even lower. Hoping only for better days ahead.

Looking at things at a positive light, I am very very grateful for the kindness displayed by the tens and thousands of Filipinos both here and abroad. It is tough times like these that remind us of what is truly important—and that is God’s gift of life. Maybe in a fatalistic way we needed something like this to happen to shake us out of our apathy.

And I didn’t get to eat much of it because my stupid stomach wouldn’t cooperate. Anything oily or rich or creamy it rejects. Gad.

I hope it won’t act up too much tomorrow. I’ve been assigned to write up on a food trip in Bataan. Of all the days. Of all the friggin days.

*prays*

And fat and cellulite will eventually catch up with Barbie.

And Tweety the gay bird will not be so annoyingly chirpy anymore.

Mwehehe my mom sent me these.

Okay back to work. Goosefrabah.

I always take behind the scene shots during our photo shoots and so far, my favorites have been the ones from our shoot at Cubao Expo.

When I went up White Box Gallery’s storage place on the second floor (which we used as our makeshift dressing room), I nearly died and went to artist heaven.

I’ve always been a frustrated painter. And seeing all the artworks they’ve acquired reminded me of how much I miss painting. And this was exactly the kind of studio I wanted for myself. Plain white walls, high windows. Ganda ng ilaw!

I love this shot of the window.

And I love Cubao Expo. It’s a place I’d visit everyday if I lived near the area. Even if it’s just for the fried dilis at Mogwai. Hehe.

Some shots behind the scenes:

Lucky timing—this guy’s Lambretta we borrowed as a prop looked totally killer that we had to make it our fashion ed’s opening page.

Psychedelic fridge.

Bubble wrap.

And, the group shot!

Back to work!

Turns out Sango has a new website—and they mentioned the entry I posted about their Rockwell branch in their testimonials page.

Nice!

It made my day. I suddenly miss their strawberry cornflake shake.

And I really ought to try their rice meals next time.

I read somewhere that in order to maintain an optimistic attitude, you should try seeing the silver lining in every dilemma you find yourself in.

This post is me trying to achieve just that:

When I feel bloated, instead of whining about it, I will just be grateful for being able to afford the food I ate that got me bloated in the first place. Bloating is a, er, luxury if I look at it differently.

When I am irritated by choosy taxi drivers, I will be grateful for the ones that “chose” me.

When I get the heebie jeebies after riding a taxi that’s teeming with baby cockroaches, I will be grateful for the taxi driver’s kindness in offering his face towel as a tool for me to swat away the roaches with. Which I do not necessarily have to accept. I can get another cab instead.

When I have eye strain, I will be grateful for the job that gives me the opportunity to stare at my computer all night. And for the opportunity to play mindless time-sucking computer games like Restaurant City, Zuma, Top Chef, etc.

When I am bored, I will be grateful for WordPress which helps me kill time while waiting for Z to call and come home from his new job which I am also grateful for because I can see he’s really challenged by it.

I am also grateful for Sun Cellular. Even if they have crappy signals. Which is better than no signal at all, of course.

Hay. Yan lang muna.

After the past few months’ relentless Thai cravings and Jatujak visits, I think it’s safe to say that I am officially swearing off Thai food, at least for now. Every time I think about Phad thai, I lose my appetite. Anything remotely Asian puts me off—I think it’s mostly because of the restaurant reviews I’ve done on Asian food lately. There have been quite a lot and it’s not that I am ungrateful for the abundance of free food, it’s that I am just plain sick of Asian food PERIOD. I’d like to say I am sick of eating but pigs will probably fly before that happens.

ANYWAY.

This week, the boyfriend took me out to dinner at Cyma.

Where we had hummus with pita because I’ve been craving it ever since we had that nightcap at Gana’s.

We also tried the moussaka, which was really deelish.

And lamb chops, para maiba naman.

Needless to say by the time we finished off everything, we looked like this:

The food was delicious but I think we picked everything on the nakakaumay part of their menu. We didn’t get the salad because the one we wanted was unavailable. And we were already too hungry to even read through the parts after the Greek food titles. So we just got a random mix of stuff.

Anyway, we managed to burn (sort of) most of the calories by walking around the new Eastwood Mall. It IS new, right? Because I’ve never been there. Last time I was in Eastwood, it was still under construction. Now it looks like a mini version of the Macau I see on travel mags (never been there either).

I had my new toy with me so I figured might as well check out its features. I particularly loved this shot:

And this one reminds me of Clarke Quay in SG:

And…that’s about it. Ciao.

Zeph and I watched Kimmy Dora last night and we laughed our asses off the entire movie.

Even funnier was when we walked out of the theater, Eugene Domingo was there. For a second I thought natwilight zone ako.

Seriously, the plot was ridiculously funny without trying too hard and there were plenty of quotable quotes! And I totally got a kick out of seeing Am as the maltreated assistant. Hahaha!

I post an entry in the middle of the night—in the office.

And it’s usually something nonsensical like this photo of a bunch of fish magnets.

Or of dream catchers sold by a woman with dreadlocks.

I need another vacation. :’(

The moment I stepped out of the airport, I was bombarded with pendings and unmet deadlines. Not that I am ungrateful—I do enjoy my job. It’s just the late nights…and the usual sickness (physical) that comes with it. Is this even normal?

Ugh. And my mom totally got on my case. She wants me to go get a checkup tomorrow, which I dread. I don’t like hospitals much. But I can’t really needle my way out of this one because she got my dad in on it. He’s taking me to the hospital.

I am an ungrateful daughter.

I want to stay here:

Instead of here:

I know, I know, I look happy. But this was taken around seven months ago and today there is no huge pan de mongo bread to tide me over—I am cold, can’t eat (sore friggin throat) and in need of a good massage and a really long hot hot hot bath.

*cry*

And I don’t know if this *lump* in my throat is real or imagined.

I want to go home.