Monthly Archives: May 2010

NCR Cebu (Survivor-inspired) Summer Outing

This took place in EGI Resort and Hotel, Lapu Lapu City last May 15, 2010. Ten days later, I decide to post the photos here. Need I say why? I’m a Gemini. And I’m entitled to this thing they call ficklemindedness. 😉

tip of the stage

there were about 6 teams, er, tribus

hmmm . . . what do you think?

redh was there too ♥

 

poolside view

that’s me, ara, and mylene. i love our colors.

the "longest whatever" game.

 

one of the torches

splashing all night long

That’s it!

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Pork and Beans

Judy Garland once said that it’s better to be a first-rate version of yourself than a second-rate version of somebody else. Well, this song from the band Weezer expounds it further. Have fun being yourself and remember not to give a hoot at what others think. 🙂

They say I need some rogaine to put in my hair
Work it out at the gym to fit my underwear
Okaley makes the shades to transform a tool
You’d hate for the kids to think that you’ve lost your cool

Imma do the things that i wanna do
I ain’t got a thing to prove to you
I’ll eat my candy with the pork and beans
Excuse my manners if I make a scene
I ain’t gonna wear the clothes that you like
I’m fine and dandy with the me inside
One look in the mirror and I’m tickled pink
I don’t give a hoot about what you think

Everyone likes to dance to a happy song
With a catchy chorus and beat so they can sing along
Timbaland knows the way to reach the top of the charts
Maybe if I work with him I can perfect the art

Imma do the things that I wanna do
I ain’t got a thing to prove to you
I’ll eat my candy with the pork and beans
Excuse my manners if I make a scene
I ain’t gonna wear the clothes that you like
I’m fine and dandy with the me inside
One look in the mirror and I’m tickled pink
I don’t give a hoot about what you think

No, i don’t care
I don’t care
I don’t care
I don’t care
I don’t care
I don’t care

Imma do the things that i wanna do
I ain’t got a thing to prove to you
I’ll eat my candy with the pork and beans
Excuse my manners if I make a scene
I ain’t gonna wear the clothes that you like
I’m fine and dandy with the me inside
One look in the mirror and I’m tickled pink
I don’t give a hoot about what you think

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Never Let Your Guard Down

Up until now, I’m still in a daze. I’ve been chock-full of speculations at what those shabby kids veritably contrived. I’m almost certain there were three of them. A hapless street boy who was a little around 8 years old; a smaller boy around 6; and, the eldest of them all who could have been the leader of the pack, a lesbian of about 15. Had it not been for my inbred belligerence, I could have been killed (or injured).

Let me try to go back in retrospect. I was walking down J. Llorente Street on my way to work last night. As I was  crossing the street to get to Anita’s Bakeshop, the unexpected happened. I was three steps away from the sidewalk when the 8-year-old kid came charging toward me. In the short span of time that I could think, an influx of thoughts spluttered all over me. I thought he was going to beg for some coins but it didn’t look like that. It didn’t appear like he was aiming at my bag either because he would have snatched it away in an instant. (I’m not really the type who wears shoulder bags specifically for this reason but I considered that night an exception.) What it appeared to me was he was aiming at my face. Was he trying to pinch me? (Or do I flatter myself?) Was he trying to paint muck on me? (You know how street kids like to show off to their throng.) Was he trying to shove me back to the street and have me run over by a vehicle? Or worse, was he carrying an ice pick to slash at me?

I was clutching the shoulder bag. It was only a split second when he came into view and my reflexes took care of it in a bat of an eye. As if in a snap, I lifted my free left hand and smacked at him. His hand never reached my face for I was able to whisk it away. I don’t know how I did it. He pounced at me in full force and I was supposed to be a helpless target, but I singlehandedly (literally) dealt with that all right. And he was surprised at my strength as I was equally astonished at what I am able to do when presented with danger. All eyes were transfixed on me. And then the boy ran back to his pack and vamoosed away.

All right. Sh** just happened.

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If Mama Were Here

If Mama were here, I would not be as star-crossed as working my ass off just to hang out a shingle and make a name for myself.

If Mama were here, I would not have developed scars because she wouldn’t have allowed anything to bruise me.

If Mama were here, I would not have worries but reassurance to gleefully bask in the summer sunshine with her.

If Mama were here, I would have a cornucopia of reasons to smile every fleeting day.

But . . .

If Mama were here, I would not have become a stalwart as what years of perseverance and hard work made me to be.

If Mama were here, I would not have been able to deduce what independence means and actually translate it into action.

If Mama were here, I would not have learned how to take responsibility because she would have willingly taken that burden off my shoulders.

If Mama were here, I would never be defeated because I would never have any reason to give battle.

(Mama, I finally understood why you took off as early as the cock-crow of my childhood. God needed you there, and although we needed you here as well, there are lessons that ought to be learned the hard way.) 

Happy Mother’s Day, Mama! Till we meet again.


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“The ultimate test of a relationship is to disagree but hold hands.”

Redh is plumping for Noynoy. I, for Gibo.

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