Street but Sweet


Thursday, May 31, 2007

A closetful of nothing to wear

I'm getting frustrated trying to figure out what to wear to a smart-casual event tomorrow night. It doesn't help that I'm feeling kind of pudgy since I was only able to work out twice this week. Argh. It's tough being a girl! Haha.

My first (and, so far, only) option is this beautiful scarf that I intend to turn into a top. The problem--which I was too afraid to voice out, but which my mom had no qualms declaring--is that it might fall off and give everyone a free show. Sigh.

My closets are stuffed with clothes, but I'm actually only very happy with a small percentage of it all. If I could have my dream closet, it would be filled with stuff by Uli from Project Runway Season 3. Her clothes are so me. A few months ago, I actually said that I thought I had enough clothes, and I didn't have to shop for a while. But I've gotten tired of my regular outfits, and I've realized that I need:
  • A "fat" top--a stylish something for those days when I don't feel like baring my arms, or when I don't want to wear something that hugs my body
  • A good pair of slacks. I have a few pairs of jeans, but not enough grown-up, ladylike pants!
  • A versatile dress
  • Black heels, as my most recent ones have retired. I was going to replace them with these killer black, snakeskin peep-toe stilettoes, but I couldn't find 'em in my size. I ended up buying the super sexy red version (which I didn't need!).
My "want" list is a whole other matter.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

It's always great seeing old friends. Belated happy birthday, Jenny O!

Our table. I miss being in high school!

Playin' around with the 3.2 carat engagement ring.

Ang bigat!

Two barkadas, together again.

Pangan's candid shot of a caramel-colored me. Hmm, I think I need a haircut!

We were pretty much just doing this all night. My face hurt by the end of it!

Two of my girls with pretty birthday girl, Benny.

Friday, May 25, 2007

Six weird things

Gwyn tagged me...


Tagged! This is what you are supposed to do. Cut and paste if you decide to participate in the tagging game.

Each player of this game starts off by giving six weird things about themselves. People who get tagged need to write in a blog of their own six weird things as well as state the rules clearly. In the end, you need to choose six people to be tagged and list their names.

After you do that, leave them each a comment letting them know you tagged them and to read your blog.


The stuff I don't mind revealing (haha)...

1. Whenever I'm in a car that crosses an intersection on a yellow light, I hit the ceiling of the vehicle with the back of my hand and kiss it (my hand, I mean). I started doing this when I read about a couple that would do this coz they believed it kept them safe. Strangely, I started doing it myself.

2. I read Archie comics when I'm stressed.

3. One way I eat bananas: I chop them up, put 'em in a bowl, and pop 'em in the microwave for 20 seconds. It comes out all mushy and hot, kinda like pie filling.

4. Before my phone was stolen, I would play Canal Control every night before going to sleep. Sometimes I would chide myself for wasting almost an entire hour just lying in bed playing, instead of catching some Z's. But I couldn't help myself. (With my old phone, I used to play Memory.)

5. When I read the newspaper, I glance at the headlines, read the Sports section, then the comics, then the horoscope (I also read my friends' horoscopes)--but I try not to read this part too often coz I kinda believe that if I read it before the day starts I'll have a bad day (it's fun reading it at night and seeing if it's accurate or a total load of bull crap). The last thing I read is usually the Entertainment section.

6. I'm constantly dancing. I dance in the shower. Or at 2:30 in the morning after working, even when I'm quite sleepy.

I tagged: Lei, Ric, Ching, Gladys, Dondi, and Cathy

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Was watching the American Idol finale at the gym this morning, and one special guest totally caught my attention...

Photo from of AP/Yahoo News

Nope, not Kelly Clarkson, but the one on the right. That's Joe Perry, Aerosmith lead guitarist, and the first man I ever thought of as sexy!*

*Before seeing this dude (like 15 years ago!), I didn't understand what a sexy man was. Haha.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Nothing to write home about

The past week has been quite uneventful, although there were little moments that brought bursts of joy:
  • Hanging with my barkada
  • Sleeping over at Mads's (I super missed her while she was away!)
  • Watching back-to-back movies with H (Spidey 3--better than I expected after hearing everyone gripe about it--and Shrek 3--sadly, while it had its funny moments, it was still worse than I had hoped)
  • Running into Rene's parents and their friends...and then having dinner with them!
  • Meeting up with a good friend who shall remain unnamed (haha)
  • Seeing Dil and happily discovering that absolutely nothing has changed
  • Hanging out with two of the three other members of F.A.K.E. (Fenix, Alvarez, Kalalo, and Estoy. Haha)
Nothing major. But it's the little things that sustain our spirits.

Monday, May 21, 2007

A seemingly drugged-out version of me stumbled into work today, even though I didn't have to go, given the hours we worked last Friday and Saturday. But I figured I'd save the free day for when I need it, and just spend this day watching over the interns and our newbie.

Woke up later than I was supposed to, and I hadn't felt that disoriented in a really long time. I actually couldn't figure out what day it was! I went through each day in my head--"No, it's not it Friday? Please make it be Friday...but it was just Sunday recently so...damn!"--and my mind finally, defeatedly settled on Monday. Was in no mood to put together anything presentable, so I settled for comfortable. So here I am, in shorts and a plain black tee, with my hair still wet, and the bridge of my nose still slightly swollen after getting hit by a speeding disc. (There's a scratch on there too. Over the weekend, I kept telling people, "Touch it! Touch it!" so they could feel how irrregularly shaped my nose was. When the disc hit, I thought my nose would bleed. Later on, I feared that I would come out of it looking like Owen Wilson, which wouldn't be so bad if I were a guy.)

I just realized that the reason my energy's so low today might be coz I haven't worked out in a while. Just went to the gym once last week for a hurried workout, and played ultimate last Saturday. Had a tummy ache so I couldn't really run, so it baffled me when the opposite team would yell, "Runner!" whenever I was open. Maybe I was just delirious from the pain.

Can't wait til I can get on a treadmill. And I can't believe I just said that.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Ultimate beach trip in photos

Who woulda thought that a week after the Ultimate beach trip, I would find myself in the office at 2:40 am? Damnit. And we've got a long way to go! I'm telling myself that if I blog about the trip, I'll at least bring some of those feel-good, beachy vibes back. But, after spewing out three articles in one evening, the last thing I want to do is to get creative with my writing. So I'm gonna take the easy way out this time.

We headed to Terrazas de Punta Fuego on Saturday morning, stopping over at Shell-Jollibee (I'm more of a Petron-McDo girl...maybe coz their bathrooms are air-conditioned! Haha), which was a mob scene. As I had breakfast outside, I took the first photo of the trip:

It's Dondi, one of the chief organizers of the trip, and Dino, our very own Silent Bob...though I discovered later on that he wasn't so quiet after all. We had four vehicles and 18 people in all, and I learned that it's a bitch trying to get everyone to move as a group--everyone's off doing their own thing, which causes all sorts of delays. But hey, the more the merrier!

Sarah, Dondi's fiancee/our trusty driver, tried her darndest to keep up with Gladys's driver, who must've been practicing for some sort of Batangas Grand Prix! Funny conversations during the trip:

Sarah: Chocolate sale na! Dondi, when will you buy me something from Chocolate?
Dino: Bonus na sa 16!
Sarah (to Dondi): Bonus na pala, wala kang sinasabi!
Dondi (to Dino): %$@#&! Ngayon ka na nga lang nagsalita!


Sarah: Honey, I wanna pass Gladys's driver! I wanna get back at him for leaving Macky behind!
Dondi: Wow, so you wanna get back at him for leaving Macky behind by...leaving Macky behind?


We finally got to Terrazas in one, er, four pieces. We filled a tram...

Then hit the beach for a day of Ultimate (some "cool dudes" joined us. And one of them kept calling Gladys "Ate." Hahaha)...

And goofing around...

(Top) Mike tried to do a fake layout--which would've looked awesome had I not gotten the hand holding the disc in the frame. Hahaha.

We wouldn't fit into one room at Club Punta Fuego, so later that day, we all trekked to nearby Nicole Beach Resort (where we spent about two hours waiting for everyone to get his or her dinner! Hmmm, the service in these parts leaves much to be desired. We also waited a pretty long time for lunch at Munting Buhangin earlier, and at Carlos Pizza in Tagaytay the next day...which led to a furiously typed out, hunger-induced text message to H which went something like, "I sure hope you have good service at Gourmet's coz this is so damn frustrating!" Anyway, I'm over it.).

They spent the rest of the evening downing the bottles that the boys surreptitiously brought in through Terrazas...

Playing drinking games (I was saling-pusa) and charades (the girls won. Hwehwe)...

(Top) Ross, one of two MC3 people with us during the trip. Awww. (Above) Macky was given Wicker Park. His ingenious way of acting it out was to make a "W" and a "P" using his hands! (Dude, it's charades, not a spelling bee. Haha. Although mejo wala na siya sa sarili at this point...)

And since I don't really drink and thus had nothing to do, I took a few of these...

After the drinks were gone, and people passed out one by one, a few of us headed to the beach to stargaze and talk. At least, that was our intention. More than half dozed off.

Later on, Vima, Mel, Macky (refreshed after taking a power nap), and I woke the remaining people on the beach up and had them go back to the resort. We spent about an hour listening to Reymund and his quotable quotes, e.g., "I'm a cutie pie!"

Mel and Vima, two of the last ones standing at about 4:30 in the morning.

We finally decided to turn in. I ended up on the floor in the room with one fan (drat), where I got snacked on by a swarm of mosquitoes (my legs were not a pretty sight the next day), and where I almost got stepped on by Reymund, who rushed out at 5:30 am to throw up on some plants. Haha.

I got up a couple of hours later, took a walk with Dino (who was--surprise!--quite madaldal), and took photos of Boss AMP as he practiced for his Frisbee session with the wife later that day...

And then we were off...

Sigh. I wish we could do this every weekend.

More, more, more photos in my multiply.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Dirty! Dirty!

I've never been a big fan of the Spurs (far from it). Now there's more reason for me not to like them.

Go Phoenix!

Silver and black eye
By Adrian Wojnarowski
From Yahoo! Sports

The San Antonio Spurs never much cared about endearing themselves, starting with sullen star Tim Duncan and grumpy coach Gregg Popovich. They won three championships wearing Al Davis' colors, but the kids never took to those black-and-silver jerseys the way the Oakland Raiders did. For so long, San Antonio has tortured the public with professionalism and poise.

After a decade of inspiring indifference, if not a grudging admiration, one series has suddenly reshaped and repackaged the Spurs. They'll no longer be simply celebrated as the relentlessly resourceful champions, but they'll also be derided as dirty, cheap-shot artists. They've earned it in these Western Conference semifinals against the Phoenix Suns.

What's worse, they've gotten away with it. Nothing happened when Bruce Bowen sideswiped Amare Stoudemire and kneed Steve Nash, and two games for Robert Horry drilling Nash into the scorer's table does little to balance the Game 5 suspensions for Stoudemire and Boris Diaw.

In some ways, the series has done irreparable damage to the Spurs' reputation. They've never cared about popularity, but they do relish respect. If they win this series, they'll do so with the taint of bad behavior and bad character.

Popovich doesn't help the Spurs' credibility when he defends Horry's vicious hit as "just an end-of-the-game foul." That's a load of crap and Popovich knows it. The Spurs are no less tough guys for Popovich, maybe the best pure coach in the NBA, to acknowledge that Horry's hit was over the line.

Horry had always been Big Shot Bob in the playoffs, never Cheap Shot Bob, but something about the tone of this series made Nash an appealing target late in Game 4. Once again, San Antonio provoked, the Suns reacted and they'll be playing at a steep incline without Stoudemire on Wednesday.

The Spurs are winning the battles on technicalities and letter of the law, but they're losing on spirit and intent. San Antonio hasn't gotten away with murder in this series, just aggravated assault. Rest assured, the NBA would love nothing more than figure a way to get the ratings-free Spurs out of these playoffs and move along Steve Nash and the space-age Suns.

Only, it doesn't work that way. The judgment was fair on Tuesday, suspending Horry for two games and delivering the hardest hit of all – Stoudemire and Boris Diaw out for Game 5.

"It's not a matter of fairness, it's a matter of correctness," NBA vice president of operations Stu Jackson said Wednesday.

Listen, all these people screaming for the league to selectively enforce the rule about leaving the bench for an altercation are missing the point. This rule is simple: It is there to stop that first punch getting thrown. That's it. Assistant Marc Iavaroni should've done his job on Phoenix's bench. For all the clipboards and notes these armies of assistants are buried under, they have but one job: When all hell breaks loose, stop the superstar.

Stop Stoudemire.

But this doesn't excuse the instigating San Antonio has done in the series. The shame is, the Spurs are good defensively and too talented to reduce themselves to this garbage. Bowen believed he could intimidate Stoudemire and Nash with those hits. It didn't happen. Yes, the Suns are the ultimate finesse team, but they've shown it shouldn't be mistaken for softness.

The irony is that, earlier this season, Popovich was livid with Jackson for telephoning Bowen without his knowledge to warn Bowen about sliding his foot under the ankles of jump shooters again. Vince Carter, Steve Francis and Isiah Thomas had complained about that with Bowen, and Popovich did not want Jackson getting into his star defender's head about the way he played the game. As it turns out, Horry probably never would've felt so empowered to slam Nash had Jackson punished Bowen for his transgressions in the series.

San Antonio is never a brash team, but it's never been so arrogant. The Spurs are a great franchise, great champions, but they've honored those black-and-silver colors in all the wrong ways this series. Right now, they're behaving like they're bullet-proof, like they can do whatever they want on the floor. So far, the NBA has given San Antonio no reason to feel otherwise.

Now, it's on the Suns. They were suckered into leaving the bench in Game 4, and now, they get to show whether they can stand up to the bully without their big tough guy, Stoudemire. Now, they get a chance to hit back the only way that'll work: running.

The West is still the Spurs' street corner. Whatever damage they've done to their good names, they'll always take the fight to you.

Adrian Wojnarowski is the national NBA columnist for Yahoo! Sports.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Just say "no"

It's a humbling experience when you realize that you cannot, in fact, do everything. At least, not all at once.

This realization came in the middle of SM Supermarket, as I frantically searched the aisles for stuff I needed (sans my glasses) and spewed a stream of invectives directed at what felt like The Worst Day Ever. (I was on the phone so that people wouldn't be freaked out by the tiny woman in The Worst Mood Ever.) But I'll skip giving details about the whole ugly incident, which involved me tearfully asking one of the salesdudes, "Nasa'n po (sniff) ang mga table (sniff) napkin?" The look on that dude's face was priceless.

It was the end of the day, and I hadn't cried like that in a really long time. Really. And it felt sooo good, but also so incredibly draining. After having saltwater run down my cheeks and my tirade about how there just isn't enough time to do everything, I felt slightly better, and was thinking much more clearly. It was then that I realized that I can't keep doing what I'm doing now. I can't keep this pace without having these meltdowns. I can't do it all, even though it's what's expected of me--and I have to stop trying to prove that I can. I have to learn to say "no," even if it kills me.

The day I turned 27, my 30-something friends told me that it was the start of something great--it was the age of self-discovery, when you realize who you really are. And I don't know if it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, or if it's really true, but I have a much more vivid image of who I truly am now than I did last year. I know my limitations. I know that I can't please everyone. I know that I'm not That Girl whom everyone adores (nor do I want to be). And, more importantly, I'm starting to accept all these things. Now if only I didn't need to experience embarrassing supermarket incidents to have these epiphanies!

Maybe when I'm 28.
H's mom was in town, so the family (which apparently includes me) spent a couple of nights at Highlands. The first day, we pretty much just aired out the house. It was strange how a full meal was served at 3:00 pm. H and were like, "What's this supposed to be?" Rice and nilaga aren't exactly regular merienda fare!

We stayed behind as the kids all went out to go horseback riding. Later that night, when the kids were in bed, the grownups headed over to Mile Hi for dessert. Mmm.

The next day, we went to Munting Buhanin in Nasugbu (beside Terrazas)--my first beach trip in a really long time! Yay! We discovered that H's bro Adri, who insisted that "may tiyan na nga ako ngayon," actually has a six pack. Haha. He even had a Daniel Craig moment when he emerged from the water. We also discovered that, while older nephew Anton is a bit scared of deep water (we have something in common!), little Lorenzo is quite the brave little boy. He would just laugh as his Ninong H brought him to the deeper parts. I swear, this kid's gonna be bad-ass when he grows up! Just like his ninong. Haha.

On our way back to Highlands, we stopped over at Cliffhouse, where there's a spectacular view of Taal Lake. They did good things with that plot of land. If only there were cheaper restos around! The whole experience made me miss going out of town with my family. I remember a Baguio trip we took with my cousins and my mom's siblings, and a Puerto Azul trip that we went on while my US-based relatives were here. Sigh. My dream is to one day take a trip to Ilocos with the clan, with each family staying at a house in Sitio Remedios.

When we got back to the house, the others turned in. H and I both had work to do so we took turns on his laptop. The house was quiet, and it felt like we were the only ones there--it was kind of a sneak preview of our future: There we were, watching NBA and Dumb and Dumber on cable while one of us typed away. Later on, we settled into the couch and watched Isang Tanong. If this is what our future holds, then our typical night won't be filled with excitement. Instead, there'll be comfort and security, and jokes that only the two of us would get. Even as not-yet-weds, it already feels like we're an old married couple in the very best sense.

(Clockwise from top) Me trying out my nautical semi-sporty two-piece for the upcoming Ultimate beach trip; H looking like he's got a secret. H helping Lorenzo devour an ice cream cone--it was a blessed mess but it was so cute seeing them together. The family at Mile Hi for dessert (although H's bro ordered a chili dog--which I drooled over.)

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

I stumbled upon an interesting blog just minutes ago: It's just stories in six sentences. Hmmm.

Monday, May 07, 2007

The highlight of what turned out to be a crappy day

This day was promising, I tell ya. But in the end, it just turned sour. The bright spot of my day:

For those who aren't ANTM addicts, this is Nigel Barker, the "noted fashion photographer" judge. And there I am with a ridiculously starstruck smile. It was just sooo surreal seeing him in person! More photos in my multiply.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

I'm feeling a bit more relaxed now despite the looming deadlines and racket-induced stress because I finally got to go to the beach! I'll be blogging about my out-of-town trip with H and his family as soon as I have the pics. For now, I just want to write about one of the best massages I've ever had!

Back in college, I would go to the spa about once a month--I needed some magic hands to knead away all the muscle pain and bruises from almost-daily cheering and dance practices. (It amazes me now how I could afford it back then. Aside from massages, my allowance was enough to finance my regular waxing trips, manicures, and pedicures! Hmm. Maybe it was coz of the cheap caf food.) I tried counting and I've probably been to over a dozen different spas (not counting various branches of certain chains). The ones that stand out in my memory are:
  1. my Orient Spa massage. This was at the penthouse of Crystal Garden Hotel in Makati if I'm not mistaken--it was like a converted hotel suite, so I had a room all to myself, plus I got to soak in the tub pre-massage. It was more expensive than my normal massages, but it was worth it. I have a tendency to lift one shoulder off the bed when the massage gets a bit painful, but the masseuse wouldn't have any of it--she held one shoulder down with one hand as she attacked the other with one powerful hand.
  2. my Evercrest massage. We used to check into Evercrest when my dad and bro would play golf. The best part about this massage was the masseuse actually stepped on my back--there were special bars installed in the massage room that the masseuses could hold onto as they literally walked all over us.
And now I have a new massage to add to my list: my recent massage at Excelsior Spa. I've been to various branches of Excelsior over the years. It's not as chi-chi as The Spa, but it's where I'd go when I'm on a bit of a budget. Alas, it is now P450, so it's slightly more expensive than it used to be (or maybe it just wasn't a promo hour). But I sooo didn't regret shelling out the cash after Jacky got her hands on me.

So the common room was a bit warm--perhaps the A/C was turned off as it was nearing closing time. They turned on the fan towards the end, which I didn't really like. Plus, there wasn't any music. But all that didn't matter.

My masseuse, Jacky was probably just as big as me and maybe a little lighter, but man, did she have strong hands! She gave me a fairly hard massage--just the way I like it! She didn't spend so much time on my legs (which is good, since it's not my favorite area to be massaged) and instead spent the bulk of the time massaging my back. Ahhh. My last few massages weren't completely enjoyable because I'd get an attack of the tickles once the masseuse worked around my shoulder blades. There was none of that this time. Jacky knew how to work her away around those danger zones.

It's sometimes obvious when the masseuse is tamad. Take for example that one girl who spent around 40 minutes of the time massaging my face--my skin felt raw! Jacky seemed like she relished doing her job, and made it her personal mission to knead every knot out of my shoulders. She wouldn't rest until she got all those suckers out of there. If only I weren't facing down, she might have worried over the expressions of anguish on my face. It was torture. But I loved it! It was one of those masakit pero masarap moments. Hahaha. I told her about the pain in my neck, and she willingly rubbed, squeezed, stroked--whatever it took to make it all better.

Ahhh. Just thinking about it now makes me want to go back for my second massage of the week! I'm sure I'll keep trying other spas (spotted a new one along Tomas Morato), but Jacky, I'll be back!