Season(s) of Love

Looking forward to the following:

1. The 9th birthday celebration of my nephew Dave tomorrow (Februray 13). For sure his favorite food lumpia (spring rolls) will be present on the table.
2. The Philippine International Hot Air Balloon Fiesta in Clark Field, Pampanga on Sunday (February 14, Happy Hearts Day).
3. Lovers in HK adventure on February 23-25, 2010. Gouda, you want? Here it is: A mon copain, je t'aime avec tout mon coeur!
4. The RENT musical on February 28, 2010 at the Carlos P. Romulo Auditorium in RCBC Plaza. I got my four (4) balcony tickets yesterday for my parents, my boyfriend and yours truly.

I'd like to end this quick blog post with a song from # 4. Oh yes, it's the title too. It perfectly suits the mood* for this month, despite the ups and downs. Spice up, they say.

525,600 minutes

525,000 moments so dear

525,600 minutes

How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee

In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife

525,600 minutes

How do you measure a year in the life?

How about love? (3x)

Measure in love

Seasons of love.

525,600 minutes

525,000 journeys to plan

525,600 minutes

How can you measure the life of a woman or man?

In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried

In bridges he burned

Or the way that she died.

It’s time now to sing out

Though the story never ends

Let's celebrate

Remember a year in the life of friends

Remember the love (3x)

Measure in love

Seasons of love (2x)

*For unknown magical reason, I feel better today than the previous days.

Gem of Thought: Perfect Love

The bottom line is that (a) people are never perfect, but love can be, (b) that is the one and only way that the mediocre and vile can be transformed, and (c) doing that makes it that. We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.

-Tom Robbins, Still Life With Woodpecker

All About October 13

I got this interesting information about my birthday from a random book in Booksale. The title of the book escaped me though.

Color: Turquoise

Number: 4, 13, 22

Stone: Turquoise - a stone sacred to Native Americans, used for protection

Flora: Pussy Willow

Animal: Iguana

Occupation: Company founder, politician, bouncer

Key features: Fierce, tenacious, powerful, naturally good at taking the upper hand when others show weakness

Character: You can be likened to polished steel, shiny, hard, and never rusty! You have a strength and power that are awesome and a little dangerous, but if you are one of the very few who are not in touch with their power you may feel totally victimized. You don't mess around, and with sheer gall and grit always rise to the top of the heap.

Life: You can be too single-minded and focused. When you are set on some goal or battle you forget about not only your own emotional well-being of those around you. You can transcend this and discover the way of the peaceful warrior if you try. Open your heart to gentleness.

Love: You crave security but once you have it, you tend to take your partner for granted or see them merely as extension of yourself. When you are in a casual relationship or chasing someone, you are much more loving and giving. An Aquarius, whose ruling planet, Uranus, is also your birth date ruler, would be very good for you.

Best present: Bubble-making machine, rose-quartz heart pendant.

Birthday share: 1925 Lenny Bruce, comedian, and Margaret Thatcher, former prime minister of Britain; 1941 Paul Simon, singer; 1959 Marie Osmond, singer.

On this day: In 1992, the pyramids, the Sphinx, and other monuments survived an earthquake in Cairo that killed at least 400 people and injured more than 4,000.

So A Bus Ride Made Me Think Of This?!

Like most people, I have a lot of random thoughts all the time. Sometimes I just keep them to myself, only to mourn them later when I forget them. For those rare times that I find my thoughts are publish-worthy, I think I should be able to put them here. I'm allowed to do that because it's my blog.  

On my way home on board a bus, I entertained some dreamy thoughts about some secrets. 

One of my deepest secrets is that sometimes I really just want to be a real grown-up. I know I'm already 29 and will be 30 soon but living in the metro, which is sort of like every rural girl's dream, makes me feel and act younger than my actual age. The hustle and bustle, the hype, the traffic jam - all these reverberates to the very core of my physical self and they serve as my instant age-defying vitamin. I feel old, however, when I'm checking out the hot buys of metro malls. I dunno why. When I see a pretty dress and it won't fit all right, I suddenly feel old blaming myself for not watching my diet. When I survey the shelves in the surpermarket, I feel old when an inner voice tells me to stop buying junk foods. Health is wealth. When I face the mirror and see some fine lines in my forehead, an alarm clock would tick inside my head.

Then being a real grown-up leads me to one nagging thought. I'm holding my breath for the consequences of this honest blog of mine. OK, I'll spill now.

All I really want is to meet the man I'm going to marry and start growing up beside him. I want to call him from work to see how his day is going and then he'd ask me the same. I prefer actually if he'd call me first. I will tell him I'm having a bad hair day and that my head is very itchy due to dandruff (one of the ill effects of random searching of hair shampoo in the grocery aisle) and he will tell me to keep quiet and tell me how pretty I am. Then I want to go home to our adorable house and find him there, cooking dinner and listening to our common favorite artist. Surprise, surprise, he'd say. His work allows him to go home early and he thinks of his lovely woman while driving home. And then I'll drop my shoulder bag on the sofa and walk over to him and he will hug me while he drops the pot holder. I want to tell him that it's my turn to cook and that he can go to the living room and watch TV. With the absence of intelligent TV shows, he will put off the idiot box and will ask me, over and over again, how my day was, who the monsters of my day are, while kissing me.... I'll let my imagination run wild here at this point. And then dinner will be left cold in the kitchen.

I want to wake up beside my man every morning and laugh because he fell asleep in the middle of our big bed. I want to reach over and try my best to move him beside me, and I want to hear him grumble sleepily in protest before he rolls over and wraps his arms around me. I want to sigh because I know he will be asleep again within a few seconds. He is. I want to slip out of the bed and go to the kitchen to make coffee. Now, this is something I have always so equated with married life* - making coffee while hubby is still complaining why the day started so early. Then I'll switch on the TV for some mandatory morning noise. I will write a short note in a stick-on  colored sheet and press it to his coffee mug: A few months ago, I would sit on the bus and dream about you, whoever you were. Now you're here, and turns out the universe is way better at making this stuff up than my brain was. Want to have babies? Yes/no? Circle. I love you.

So a bus ride made me think of this?!

*The first time I thought of this dreamy thought I pictured that marriage will  soon follow, but heck, I typed "married life". Either applies, really.

Whipping Up Pinoy Spaghetti on a Hot, Hot Sunday!

One of my favorite things about being home on a lazy weekend is whipping up one of my favorite dishes in my twentysomething life --- spaghetti! I prefer, however, the Pinoy version with hotdogs and the sweet style sauce. In addition to that, I'd like the kitchen goddess in me to slowly come out of her shell. I used to be a kitchen disaster. I burnt several meatballs, pork chops and scrambled eggs in the past, but practice makes perfect, so goes the cliche.

I so recognize my old self in dishes-gone-bad scenes in the movies and soaps, but I have long since stopped caring about what other people (including my boyfriend) think about my kitchen prowess. I mean what is this, impress your man thingie? Wow. But hey, if it makes kitchen snobs feel superior to label kitchen newbies as simpletons, then whatever, man --- LoOk Im A HuGe sPaGhETti FaN aNd I cAnT SpeLL. Or CoOk. LOL!

Behold the pics we took while whipping up Pinoy spaghetti on a hot, hot Sunday. Summer's already creeping in nowadays.

My boyfriend cooked the spaghetti noodles so perfectly...

... I crowned him the... 

Oh no, this is true to life. No drama, I assure you. From garlic, onions, bell peppers and hotdogs... Hey, where's my crown?

 The fragrant and garlicky Gardenia toast...

This is the only shot I managed to take at our joint creation. I know it won't pass the aesthetic department of any culinary arts school but we love our own. It tastes better than it looks. LOL!

Looking forward to another kitchen test.

To the four corners of our kitchen... I am, now and always, majorly yours.

The Amelioration of Goya Choclits Part 4

And I thought I had enough of this childhood choclits. I was browsing the shelves in Shopwise Cubao when I saw another batch of Goya. Yey Goya!

 

 Goya Pretzel Twists in Cream White Chocolate, Dark Chocolate and Goya Chocolate (the classic Goya taste, that is)

 

Better late than never. This is the Dark Chocolate Nuggets. If you've been paying close attention to my Goya series or you're simply a Goya fan like me, you'd noticed that Goya has always three varieties for each product: cream white chocolate, dark chocolate and the Goya chocolate (classic!).

Suffice it to say that I'm looking forward to more Goya varieties. And I also want to remember that one day, I will look back on these Goya related posts and realize how special they were, and how important. I can't know now why these choclits are important, but one day, if I'm real lucky, I will.

Cheap Thrills in Life Series: Claudette's Cloud 9

A quick Google search would reveal this definition of cloud nine (lazily spelled as "cloud 9") --- bliss: a state of extreme happiness. This definition turns out to be surprisingly accurate for Claudette's semi-sweet chocolate cake called Cloud 9!

Cloud 9 Cake

Claudette's (I ♥ Cakes)

Valero Street, Makati City

Php 370

The cream filling complements very well with the chocolate cake. It's not too sweet for my taste buds and it's not too pricey. If the latter's not true, then I guess this cake would've never landed in this series, right? I'm even tempted to add an entry here. In food, Cloud 9 is a staple dessert in Netopia's gatherings. But I won't unless I want netizens to have eyebrows crossed out of cluelessness. LOL!

Urban Dictionary Just Made My Day... LOL!

Sheer curiosity made me do this and the spirit of vanity whispered to me as well. I remember I used to browse this cool wordkeeper when I was working my butt off in a law firm in 2008. The giveaway pressure and tension (all because my boss was so, uhm, bossy, to put it mildly) prompted me to search the random definitions of words as my icebreaker. I never thought, however, to search for my own name. And for now, Urban Dictionary just made my day, fellas! 

1. Whoever submitted this entry to Urban Dic deserves a hug and a kiss from me. I owe you one! You're also unreal, buddy! And because of this, I forgive you for some minor lapses (e.g. lack of apostrophe and the misspelled "dam". Oh damn!) in your entry.

  

2.  See # 1 for similarity of my thoughts on this.

 

3.  A big Whoa! I think this honor of having my name defined so erotically goes to none other than... I'll keep you posted. LOL!

 

4. Creepy silence. This is NOT me except for sweet and smart. Thank you.

Now go Urban Dic your name!

If Only These Breads Can Talk

BreadTalk, a bakery of Singaporean origin and famous for its glass shelf and rack display, is a familiar spot everytime I go home. I usually drop by at the Gateway branch for two things: first, earthquake cheese loaf for Annabelle Rama and, second, hot floss for Papa. But this time around, I opted to buy the cartoon faces-inspired buns. I find them too cute to eat, so much so that I took pictures of them.

  

This is Mr. Beans, a bun filled with red bean paste.

 

This is JJ Baby, a dark chocolate filled bun. With its pointed top that resembles baby hair, this bun reminds me of Jack-Jack Parr from The Incredibles.

 

This is Choco Bear, a milk filled bun. The cutest of them all!

If only these breads can talk... I'd be horrified! Kidding.

Kooky & Luscious

(N.B. This is a long overdue post. Due to a cold war and the fact that photos were captured by a mobile phone belonging to the axis powers made this blog post late. Pardonez moi. ~ The Authoress)

Last January 18, fresh from our four-day sojourn in Cebu, I missed eating pasta. Good thing my boyfriend* also missed his all-time favorite pochero. Without further ado, we went to Kooky & Luscious at Metrocard Building along Ayala Avenue.

A well-loved fellow corporate refugee introduced this cozy food spot in the heart of Makati. I remember very well (it's not that distant past, yu know**) that my boyfriend used to treat me to lunch here after his court hearings.

Here are my stomach fillers:

 

 Mushroom bacon cream pasta (Php 150) 

 Maling*** & egg sandwhich (Php 50).

 My boyfriend had pochero**** (Php 150), of course.

A trip to Kooky & Luscious won't be complete without the sinful dementia (Php 130/slice). 

*Due to insistent demands of my boyfriend, I had to change "the boyfriend" to "my boyfriend". It's much more meaningful. If you've been observant, I always tag him as "the boyfriend" in previous posts. And if you've been extra observant, he was "God's gift" or "GG" in some earlier posts. Peace be with you, MY BOYFRIEND.
**I'm just glad that Pacman will finally, finally be in the spotlight again on March 13. I hope future opponents of  the Pound-for-pound King won't do a Mayweather. Click here for full details. Yey!  

***A famous brand of luncheon meat which I often associated with my younger years. It was rumored to be made of carcass. MaLing (as shown in the can label) continues to be my favorite next to Spam.

****It's served with brown rice. Perfect for health-conscious people.

Spaghetti Factory at Glorietta 5

(N.B. This is a long overdue post. Due to a cold war and the fact that the photos were captured by a mobile phone belonging to the axis powers made this blog post late. Pardonez moi. ~ The Authoress)

I dig Italian food.

Last January 13, we dined at Spaghetti Factory after strolling at the seemingly new Glorietta 5. We discovered this Italian resto a few months back and we found out that prices are relatively cheaper than Sbarro's.

One note-worthy thing about this resto is their pasta directory.  Below is an excerpt from their website.

"A. SPAGHETTI stringed pasta

B. SPAGHETTINI fine pasta

C. CAPELLINI angel hair

D. LINGUINE little tounges

E. FETTUCINE little ribbon

F. FUSILLI long hallow twist

G. PENNE short tubes

H. FARFALLE butterflies"

 

That's a quick lesson on Pasta 101 for you, buddy.

 

I ordered cream-based sauce alfredo in penne noodles. According to their menu, it's a creamy & classy bestseller and it really is. 

On the other hand, the boyfriend picked the something fishy red seafood in linguine noodles. The menu described it as "seafood in tomato sauce, our No.1." I have yet to find that out, on my own. 

Oh, before I forget, it's worth telling that their focaccia bread is not that good. I strongly think that it's a reheated slice of a week-old monay bread found in a neighborhood bakeshop. The menu also says that their pastas are served with "freshly grated parmesan cheese". Yes, the cheese was grated in front of us but maybe, they should try grating a few more seconds. The grating stopped in the twinkling of an eye. No hint of cheese as I ate. Invisible cheese, almost.

I had to remind myself that I should not expect much for Php 159. Tsk.

Here goes my second "Tsk" moment. I ordered mango juice with my pasta and I was a tiny bit disappointed when it meant a Del Monte mango juice in can. So much so for Php 45. Nevertheless, I call it as substantial compliance.

A Peace Treaty Signed at Yellow Cab

Who: The signatory parties

What: Peace Treaty

When: February 3, 2009

Where: Yellow Cab at Insular Building

Why: World peace, no matter how overused it is.

I think the Five Ws above are sufficient enough to show the gist of this post. Apparently, I'm an Italian food fan.  

Dear Darla Pizza and Chicken Alfredo Pasta

I was curious of this particular pizza. It makes me salivate everytime I swipe my card at the choo choo train station in the CBD. Here's what I found after a quick detour to Google: 

"The pizza, named after the puppy love between characters Darla and Alfalfa in the iconic “Little Rascals” movie, offers alfalfa sprouts and arugula leaves [Caveat: Both may taste a little bitter to non-veggie eaters. ~ The Authoress] as main ingredients. They are served in a box along with a pie cut into rectangular slices, sparsely topped with the default tomato sauce, cheese, olives, onions and pepperoni."

Now I know. Cute!

 

And here's the wide-mouthed big rascal enjoying his Dear Darla Pizza.

One particular square of the black and white wall of this food chain says it all. The right side, that is.

The Culprit: Shuffle Mode

I should have never set my iPod in shuffle. With shuffle mode, I'm the unwilling servant of my yesteryears. Songs that I uploaded out of boredom, songs that remind me of my teen-dom, and the pains of first love and then love after that, songs that remind me of the stage where I wallowed in pain and other emotions worthy of memory space. You got it. My iPod literally represents my life in various rhythms, high and low notes. 

Then one song stuck my to mind, rendered me motionless for a moment, and then the what-ifs played in my mind. That song. That one particular song. Out of 1,595 songs in my iPod, this song was played. Fat luck. It brought me to that one particular day of my life in a very historical town (present status: city) in the north, circa 2001. The hot summer breeze, the sound of rustling dried leaves on the front yard, the deafening silence of the house and the smell of the fabric conditioner from the clothesline. And myself. The heartbroken version of my young self: sniffling from the fact that she remembers too much of the pains of first love, entertaining thoughts of what-ifs and reenacting in front of the mirror her farewell lines in case she'd be swept into a time machine and land in year 1996.

Now, I'd think twice in hitting shuffle again unless I want to go emo randomly.

Wonder what the song is? Brace yourself. It's a classic. Here it is.

Anna Fegi's Saan Ka Na Kaya Ngayon?

The Way Forward Is With A Broken Heart

*scratches head* 

Just what the title says, and I apologize for the incoherence that will follow. And so I have my bad days. Today is one of them. Everyone does, and other people have behaved far worse.

I ate my large lasagna serving at Greenwich alone, and I almost flirted with a cute yuppie to my left who was alone too. Oh well, it's normal. 

As if the cheesy lasagna didn't meet my daily cheese requirement, I bought some outrageously cheesy cheese curls from 7-11. I felt guilty with all the junk I'm putting into my body lately so I also bought pineapple juice to detox. I hurriedly munch the curls like someone's going to grab my bag of junk. 

Then I learned in the course of my Googling that my former 1st year high school classmate who recently topped the nursing board previously worked as a Japanese interpreter at the NAIA. Cool. Bogging, as we fondly call her, certainly inspired me. I quickly remember that we have two common interests back then: first, we are members of the Sweet Valley High exclusive classroom reading club and, second, we are MJ fans. In one of our weekend gatherings at her house, we would jump up and down watching MJ videos. Then I fell asleep while Natasha Bedingfield shouted lyrics to my ears.

Anyway, two things I want to ramble on in the daily routine called going home:

1. Do not go home between 6 to 7 p.m. Traffic in the CBD of this godforsaken country is sooooo frustrating, time-wasting, *insert another negative adjective*. Lesson learned. And what was I thinking? I rode the bus instead of the choo choo train. I logged out around 6 p.m. and arrived in Cube-aw at 7:40 p.m. Going home sometimes really sucks.
2. Not convinced to go home just yet, I went to Booksale. Hey, I found a copy of The Color Purple, a famous novel by Alice Walker many years ago. The novel, which had been converted to film and Broadway musical already, talks of colored people. Wait, I detect a trend here. The last novel I've read (Sue Monk Kidd's The Secret Life of Bees) also involved colored people. I've always admired themes like finding one's worth amid life's challenges. I mean, who doesn't?

*yawns*

Oh, the title. Too hot for a topic and I'm too lazy to mull about it.

Saving My Bubble

I sense it that my bubble wants to burst. I'm the one and only savior of my own bubble. I have to do something.

Time's running out already. And I don't have sufficient patience for a whiny bubble. I've reached my boiling point and I've no plans to stay at the mythical point more than a minute, even a second. Staying will only burst my bubble. I could see the many pricks multiplying in the wind and they want to prick my bubble any chance from now.  I fear that. I fear that all the contents of my bubble will be scattered to the wind and be gone forever. I'm afraid that I will not have the energy to save my bubble in the wind. Time's running out so I better move fast. I have to guard my bubble.

I checked my logview and I don't have the luxury of time. Well, not a problem. My bubble's well-being is more important than others. I have to seek refuge somewhere to protect it. And somewhere might be the only place where my bubble will get an additional layer of protection.

Get lost, mighty wind! Don't you get near my bubble, not even a micro inch.

EDSA billboards

Surprisingly enough, I've been entertained by EDSA billboards.

There's something about those billboards that make me crane my neck and stare at them for a while. True, a lot of them are simply eye-catching. Some are funny that I get tickled inside. Some are downright serious or simply informative and educational. Some made me wonder how many smirks or smiles did those giant billboards receive from commuters. Some possibly received praises and undue criticisms especially those with gorgeous faces and bodies of celebrities plastered on them. And a heck of reactions probably which I don't want to focus on as I feel it's not my business anymore.

On my way to Netopia, the following were captured by my memory card despite my semi-slumber mode:

1. "Topsilog" sign a couple of streets from EDSA Crossing. Whoa, new Pinoy food? I was tickled pink by that.
2. "Feel ko ang pinagdadaanan mo" political billboard of senatoriable Raul Lambino. I literally froze and mentally said, "What did the ad say?" Kudos to him for such an unforgettable one-liner but no, siree, you won't gain a vote from me.
3. Ascof Lagundi ponkan flavored cough syrup billboard. Images of Mang Kepweng, the most famous albularyo (quack doctor), and Manny Villar sprung to my mind. I'd say that it's commercialism at its best.
4. Technomarine's "The Wil To Stay On Top" billboard with TV host Willie Revillame. I understand that the cruise watch is being associated with the TV host since the latter owns a luxurious yacht. Words such as "yacht" and "cruise" can truly attract a girl's attention in his social range, but I doubt if the text lingo style of his name can. Hmmm, what do you think?

In all cases, I guess it's part of the EDSA charm. My morning bus rides won't be complete without seeing them. Can you imagine? My EDSA travel experience went up a notch, or even ten. Entertain me more, giants!

Cheap Thrills in Life Series: Green Mango and Bagoong

Let's be honest. My salivary glands are going full force in their natural functions while I'm typing this entry. I just drank water like a fish after devouring the green mangoes and sauteed shrimp fry or bagoong. Eating this classic combo is equally a classic way to perk myself up. I prefer actually the Indian green mango for a very obvious reason --- less face deforming.

If the Philippines will be declared uninhabitable and the Chief Executive (Holy moly, who?) will randomly send any Pinoy soul to an uncharted territory or to Uncle Sam or to Rasputin's domain and I happened to be one of those poor unfortunate souls (who knows?), I'd stash bottles of bagoong and mango seeds and wait for 3 to 5 years for fruits. My point is, I simply love this duo.

Monday Morning Talk

Fact: I associate anything with anything hovering in my memory bank.

Myth: I don't like it.

Concrete example: On board a bus going to fictional Netopia.

So what comprises the "anything" on the fact premise? Three stand-outs this time.

1. The checkered bus curtain which reminds me of the school uniform of City High School in the City of Golden Friendship. It seems that all the alumnae donated all their ancient skirts to this bus company. I'm not complaining but I find it amusing. The school's just beside my prestigious (oh yeah) learning center (City Central School) which taught me the ABCs of life.
2. The icky familiar scent of a generic bus. Ew, it really gives me an instant migraine. A very clear albeit imagined shot of a "biyahilo" sufferer throwing up in my shoulder frightens me. Blame that memorable FX ride in college when a toddler threw up at a Escolarian colegiala's shoulder and I happened to be seated right beside that poor girl. Paranoia, dear.
3. The bus conductor who's a deadringer for Jojo Veloso, a controversial pimp of a manager wayyyy back. He managed one of my all-time eye candies, Matt Mendoza. Hahaha!

I do bank in my memory. Occasional bouts of amnesia, funny or weird, mysterious or plain blah, I don't care.

Heavy Dinner at Gerry's Grill

My friend Princess and I are both self-confessed gluttons. During our law school days, we can gobble up everything edible and halal (BTW, she's a Muslim) on the table while updating each other with life's ups and downs (read: chika to death). She feels utmost concern of her family's plan for her in 2011 ARMM elections. I  told her she should follow her heart... to honorable-ness! After dining at Gerry's Grill in newly-renovated Ali Mall, I feel I'm as bloated as a penguin and, after a few moments of contemplation, I feel I'm a donkey travelling in a desert complete with saddle bags. Okay, I'm very full. 'Nuff said.

Sinigang na hipon... Yummy-ness!

 

 Kilawin na tanigue

Bagoong rice

Chicken lollipop with garlic mayo dip

Lovely four seasons drink

A drink fit for (a) Princess!

 

 Good ole buddies

 

Simot-plato gang (except the half-rice)

Burp! Thanks a lot, Princess! As-Salamu Alaykum!

Cheap Thrills in Life Series: New Books

Thump-thump-thump. That's the sound of my heart when I entered Booksale store in Shopwise Arcade in Cubao this morning. My heart did a somersault, big mental grin flashed behind my mind and childlike excitement filled me upon seeing lotsa books there. Never mind the fact that I didn't find James Patterson's thrillers.

So here are my latest reading pleasures:

Sue Monk Kidd's bestsellers: The Secret Life of Bees (Php 115) and The Mermaid Chair (Php 70)... Amazing!

 

Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights,(Php 145), Robert James Waller's Old Songs in a New Cafe (Php 35) and Rebecca Wells' Divine Secrets of Ya-Ya Sisterhood (Php 20)

And last but not the least, a tribute to the courtroom drama fan in me... Reel Justice: The Courtroom Goes to the Movies (Php 75).

Cheap Thrills in Life Series: Claudette's Brazo de Mercedes

I've been wanting to start a series here in (where else?) my blog. I think it's time. I just want candid and whimsical entries. Anything that catches my attention during the day, no serious material, simple things that make me smile or hope for something positive. Yep, positive. It's the only catch-all term I can think of as of now. 

Brazo de Mercedes

Claudette's (I ♥ Cakes)

Valero Street, Makati City

 Php 370/roll

To start off, I want to make a tribute to one of the cheap thrills in my corporate refugee life --- Claudette's Brazo de Mercedes.  It's my first delicious taste of this creme-filled log roll of Spanish origin. During my younger years, I didn't like eating this cake since the ones I've eaten are poorly made or substandard. Even Goldilock's version is not that good. But Claudette's version is the best by far. It's not too sweet and the consistency of its cream filling is similar to yema, a childhood favorite. The best part is, it's only a stone's throw away from Netopia.

"Monkey D. Luffy" Sails On

My seafarer brother Ivan will fly back to Hamburg, Germany tomorrow to continue his One Piece* adventure.

It's his third time to be away from us for nine (9) months. I can only imagine the loneliness his wife feels everytime he's away. But the pros always outweighs the cons, so all we can do is to pray, pray and pray for his safety.

On his apprenticeship stint on board an oil tanker plying the Asia-Africa route, he saved all his monthly allowances. I think it changed him all right since he emerged to be more mature after that trip. In fact, he never asked for a single centavo from my parents when he decided to marry his then long-time girlfriend (now his wife). He eventually managed to give a pretty decent wedding to his fiancee from his own blood, sweat and tears.

After he passed the marine deck officer board exam, he embarked on another sea adventure in European cities. He told us that this stint gave him more time to relax compared to his apprenticeship days. Plus, travelling from one European port to another usually takes 6-8 hours. That's a big relief compared to his Asia-African stint which involves 2-4 days of sea travel.

It's a prevailing fact that seafarers who opted to go overseas earn in dollars. But the story behind the financial uplift is never easy. Imagine yourself travelling for days, even weeks in the midst of never-ending ocean with occasional big waves. That's not easy. Hard-earned money indeed.

And hey, he's generous to me despite the fact that he's known to be the most stingy among the brood. First, he gave me thirty thousand pesos (Php 30, 000) last March 2009 when I learned that Netopia's sending me to Virginia, U.S.A. Although my mother insisted that it should be a loan, I still think that he gave the money out of his generosity, hence should not be paid. Let's see. Second, he gave me $100 as a pasalubong after his Europe stint.

And tomorrow, my once-upon-a-time little brother will again embark on another journey to the seas. Monkey D. Luffy sails on!

* His favorite cartoon series which kept him company on board the big ship

James Patterson's 4th of July

This is my last James Patterson novel on hand but it keeps me craving for more. Now, it keeps me craving for Women's Murder Club series. I think this is the upshot of my being a Nancy Drew fan in my younger years. I'm officially a Lindsay Boxer  fan, and I aim to buy all her thrillers in no particular order. I think it all boils down to their availability in thrift bookstores in the metro.

1. 1st to Die
2. 2nd Chance
3. 3rd Degree
4. 4th of July 
5. The 5th Horseman
6. The 6th Target
7. 7th Heaven
8. The 8th Confession 
9. The 9th Judgment (available in stores on April 26th according to JP's website)

I hope to catch all of them.