Living La Vida Imelda!

August 2, 2010 at 7:49 pm | Filed under events, made in the Philippines, outfits, photos

I spent my Saturday in Manila with friends, particularly at Roxas Boulevard/the Cultural Center of the Philippines Complex for Carlos Celdran’s Living La Vida Imelda! tour.

From his website:

It’s a tour all about the Philippines in the 1970’s and the tumultuous era of Martial Law, bell-bottom jeans, and Miss Universe. Its a little bit disco, a little bit New Society, and completely Imeldific. So come take a trippy trip through National Artist for Architecture Leandro Locsin’s finest buildings as we analyze one of the most controversial periods in Philippine history as seen through the life and ambitions of the lady who defined it, Imelda Romualdez Marcos.

Itinerary:
The Cultural Center of the Philippines
The Philippine International Convention Center
CCP Complex Grounds

Here is a bad-quality photo of Carlos, taken inside the PICC. We weren’t allowed to bring our cameras inside CCP which really sucked.

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My Neighborhood Is Ugly But I Love It

January 27, 2010 at 3:41 pm | Filed under ditz drivel, made in the Philippines, photos

This morning, I woke up and knew things were not going to be different. Routine routine: get out of bed, move laptop from bedroom floor to my little table outside my door, grab my towel, pad to the kitchen to boil water for my coffee (how could I have forgotten: I need a new coffee maker!), and jump in the shower. Make coffee, go back upstairs, brush my bangs, check to see if the lover is online, then light my first cigarette of the day. The time should be 930am. Usually, it’s 10am. It’s like this everyday. It’s nice.

My neighborhood is ugly but I love it. My bedroom window doesn’t have a view except for walls walls rundown walls with the paint peeling off but sometimes when I am lucky, I can see the moon from where I lie before going to sleep.

When I wake up and stand next to my window and look up, this is what my camera sees:

This is what you look like through my eyes:

Oh, Tindalo Street. The dull colors with the occasional pops of gaudy yellow (Angel’s Hamburger, what’s up) and rusted ornaments never bothered me. The jeepneys that pass, speed, and roar through (quite rudely!) this largely residential area are something I have learned to live with. I am no longer wary when I walk home at night. The lady who does my nails and her co-workers recognize me. I used to get cat calls when I first moved here over year ago; often from someone on their home’s second floor. The lover would tell me: “I’ve got to get you out of there!” and “hemorrhoid cream!” But they have stopped and I am glad; I am one of them now. But cuter.

(I still miss Katipunan, though.)

I have a lot of photos of myself, on my bed, this morning. When there’s nothing interesting outside your windows…

Hello.

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MY COUNTRY GIVES ME TEH LULZ.

November 30, 2007 at 2:39 am | Filed under made in the Philippines

This Trillanes guy, what a funny. Nothing came out of the Oakwood Mutiny so what made him think he and his little army would get anything out of besieging the Manila Pen? On second thought, he did get something out of the bloodless mutiny from four years ago: a seat in the senate. Just shows how what-a-not-thinkings the Filipino masses are.

SERIOUSLY. I was asleep when the quasi-coup happened. Lover and I were planning on catching a movie in the Makati area because he’s leaving me for the weekend (HEY BOYS, I’M GIRLS! WANT SOME SMEXY NO-STRINGS ATTACHED SEXY TIME SATURDAY NIGHT??? CALL ME! LOVER IS OUT OF TOWN… oh wait, look, an email. What? He missed his flight?! WHAT? His flight was really for Friday night and he was stuck in traffic for over two hours on his way to the airport, for nothing? HYUK HYUK HYUK, THIS LOVER PERSON, FUNNIER THAN TRILLANES)… wait. What was I saying?

Again. So I was sleeping when our hero decided to waltz out of his court hearing. I was still sleeping when whatever happened at the Manila Pen happened. I got a text message from lover saying that due to the “stupid coup” we won’t be able to go on our Makati Movie Date so can he just use my body for secks, please? Fine by me. I was still in bed when our hero and his crew surrendered to the mighty mighty tank that busted down the lobby of the Manila Pen. Oh, the hilarity of it all. I’ve had foul moods that lasted longer than this BS.

I’m willing to bet my inheritance that we’ll be seeing Danilo Lim running for office in a few years.

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Oh, Friday Random

August 10, 2007 at 4:01 am | Filed under ditz drivel, made in the Philippines, technicolor lover

For no apparent reason, I am reminded of this time the best friend and I took on Pampanga on our own. Armed with bikinis, two days’ worth of clothes, Valium, and each other’s company (all you need in life, but throw in some cigarettes and rum in there) we made our way to a provincial bus station, sat in the front of an ordinary bus (so we could smoke during the two-hour ride) and started badgering the driver to leave. But anyway, not the point.

So this security guard comes up, stands on the steps in front of us, and starts trying to get me admit that I was Yasmien Kurdi from Starstruck. Or just anyone from Starstruck/a celebrity. And then the guard does the laughable: he pulls out a wallet-sized photo of him, hands it to me, and asks for my autograph.

Several levels of weird and crazy right there. Tell me this doesn’t only happen in the Philippines.

I’m feeling extremely irritable and territorial today and I’m trying my bestest to suck it up and remain pleasant. So I’m calling forth happy thoughts, such as how Mr Supervisor likened me to Avril Lavigne: like a strawberry milkshake with a shot of tequila. Amusing.

This is a couple of weeks late (and for good reason): haha. Mr Supervisor reads my blog. Now, the face-palm awkward are-those-crickets-I-hear? moment only lasted, like, a day. It’s the omg-my-world-is-getting-smaller feeling that took longer to shake off. But what’s really a bother is the whole oh-noes-I-can’t-blog-about-how-hot-he-is-today-in-that-red-sweater-of-his-and-other-stories thing. See, I can’t even write properly anymore.

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An Urban (Not-So-) Primadonna

September 7, 2006 at 9:56 am | Filed under bitchin' a ride, made in the Philippines, urban primadonna

I have nothing against walking, the sun, and walking under the sun. It’s something I actually enjoy doing provided the right circumstances, the right setting, the right people and provided that I won’t have to do it on a regular basis (and with my lifestyle— I don’t). But walking under the sun IN THE CITY, IN STILETTO HEELS AN INCH AND A HALF HIGH after a nine-hour shift at work just irritates the shittles out of me— especially when it could’ve been easily avoided if only the people around me weren’t such idiots.

(On my way home yesterday, a woman got on the bus somewhere in the Ortigas area and sat next to me— no, squeezed her sticky self next to me, even though we were occupying a three-seater. We were to get off at the same place: Farmers, and it was CRUCIAL for us to get off right there there there because the bus was taking the fast lane and the next stop would offset me by [I'm guessing] more than a hundred meters.

We were seated near the back of the bus and she took her time to get up and move when the bus was ALREADY AT OUR STOP. I had already stood up and was nudging her slightly [she was in my way]— a signal that she should hurry her ass down the exit because unlike her, I have to be somewhere. She didn’t. And so we I miss my stop and am inconvenienced. Unnecessary anger.)

Walking through Cubao isn’t my number one most hated thing in the world (that honor belongs to gaining weight) but it comes in pretty close. It’s a scorching Wednesday afternoon and the diseased masses of Cubao move as if they were going for a Sunday stroll in the park, seemingly unbothered by the vehicular fumes. Sometimes, they’re also unmindful of other people and act as if they own the fucking city and block the way. Oh look, stairs, perfect!; let me stop RIGHTHERE and send someone a message on my phone. Who the hell cares if I’m a goddamn obstruction— I don’t.

(You know what else I hate? Groups of people who stand around by the entrance or the exit and discuss where to go next or whatever. MOVE TO THE GODDAMN SIDE AND LET PEOPLE THROUGH.)

Stressed, sleepy, hungry, and angry, I comforted myself with a 16-ounce brownie temptation blizzard from Dairy Queen.

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