I laid there exposed, trying to keep my composure. I can do this, I whispered. I knew Elma could feel me tense up. Don't worry, she said, Relax.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPP!!!

F@^#in A! That one hurt like hell! Elma pressed down her finger, she seems to think it would lessen the pain. She's crazy to think so. Elma then tells me how she sometimes doesn't like what she does for a living.

There's this other woman who comes here often as well. But before I even start, she shakes in fear... Every time. Once, I asked her if we should still continue, she yelled "Yes! Just do it!".

She sounded sincere with her concern. So I held my breath like I held my screams, as she yanked those suckers out, one patch at a time.

Elma, isa kang bayani.

- Elma, Bikini Waxer.
California Nails and Day Spa.

- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.

Greg said it best, guys aren't complicated beings. Women just make them complicated.
It's either they want you or they don't.
No excuses. No bullshit.

And yet i'm still driven to believe in the fairytale i've drafted in my head....

Hay. Still in Greg's therapy.
You can do it Sha!

- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.

Smart Ass

Who you say? Me of course. I'm smart, AND i've got an ass. U-huh!

The last couple of months has been crazy. Everyone in the house haven't had any decent sleep since the two new puppies opened their eyes. Mom decided to make them sleep in the dirty kitchen, the room between the actual house and outside. There's a screen door separating the dirty kitchen and the backyard, and with alagang pusakals walking around the backyard, the dogs get rowdy everytime they see some unfamiliar cat. Like our pusakals have some friends come over when we're not around.

The dogs bark. OMG, do they get pissed. I have a theory that these cats taunt our dogs incessantly... maybe looks through the screen door, gives them the middle finger, makes belat and say "nyeh- nyeh- nyenyenye". Pwede ring "bal". But for whatever reason, we end up waking up in the middle of the night, trying to shut our dogs up, getting mad or making them lambing. Alabang has a strict policy about these things. Based on experience our neighbors may pagkamasungit...

So last night, before I went on to cook my Chorizo de Bilbao rice, and before my lola went to sleep, I told her "La, I have an experiment." I got pieces of newspaper and some tape. Crudely, I covered the lower half of the screen door. Insight is, if you were the one sleeping outside and some idiot kept on walking around the vicinity of where you were sleeping, wouldn't you get pissed off? Wouldn't you get scared and try to yell at them to go away? I'd probably gun them down.

So there I was. All 5 dogs just watched curiously as I covered their little window outside. I had to make sure there were no big holes enough for these rascals, or for those dumb cats to peep at.

Woke up at 730am. I got some applause from my parents and my lola for the feat. No one woke up in the middle of the night... No incessant barking... Silence once again.

Damn i'm smart.

 with piolo...

 with alice and baket

- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.

INTRAPERSONAL CONVERSATION

S1: Congratulations! In one weekend, you've managed to have the best and the worst time of your life!
S2: It's not as if I intended it to be. I was actually trying to make it a really good one...
S1: serves you right
S2: i know. in so many ways...
S1: don't cry.
S2: i don't want to...
S1: so why did you this morning?
S2: bitch.

- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.

Dare to dream a dream.

~~~

A friend of mine told me once that the kind of relationship you have is reflected in one simple gesture-- holding hands.

"Clasped hands" can just mean friends where some guy actually acts like a gentleman and of course your cliche "lovingly intertwined hands" where sometimes "may pa-sway sway pa.."

My friend's rambling wasn't about holding hands, it was about the lack of it.

His problem at that time was he didn't want to hold hands with his girlfriend... especially in public. There were too many "issues" he said, too much baggage. He was ashamed to be seen holding hands with her.
He obviously had issues with the relationship in general.

He told me, when you're with someone you should be proud to hold their hands for people to see. It's a sense of me-to-her and her-to-me kind of thing. I hold her hand and she holds mine back. A subtle yet honest gesture of assurance... of security, care and above all love.

In it's simplest and truest form.
Hold my hand if you love me. Hold my hand for all to see.  

Months after they broke up we started going out. He held my hand when we were at the mall. He held my hand the entire day until he took me home.
- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.

OH. EM. GEE. PARENTAL GUIDANCE IS REQUIRED.

You gotta love Cosmo...

Sometimes I feel like I have to urinate during sex. I've heard that G-spot stimulation can cause that sensation, but I get so freaked out I'll wet the bed that I lose my arousal. What should I do?

Several sexual positions stir up internal sensations that scare many women into thinking they might spray the sheets. This feeling can be caused by your partner's penis putting pressure on your bladder. But, as you suspect, it could also be a sign that he's stimulating your G-spot. To find out what's causing the need-to-pee feeling, go to the bathroom before you get frisky. If the gotta-go urge creeps up when you're between the sheets, make a beeline for the loo. While this might slow down the momentum of your lovemaking, it's better than letting wet-the-bed worry completely kill the mood.

If you've emptied your bladder and still feel like you have to tinkle when you get back to business, your man has probably hit your G-spot jackpot. You may notice it most when having sex from behind, if you're on top or when you're lying under him with your pelvis slightly lifted. Once the G-spot is stimulated to the point of swelling, the feeling ordinarily subsides and, with further massaging, could lead to a body-quivering, mind-blowing orgasm. For some women, G-spot stimulation causes spontaneous emission of a somewhat clear fluid (that's not urine) from the urethra, before, during, or after coming that can range from a few drops to amini-flood. While female ejaculation is a hotly debated issue, many women claim to have experienced it.

for the full article go to cosmo.com 

- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.

Budj shared a link for an online book, aptly called "An Awesome Book!". Brilliantly done I must say. It certainly got me reading through it in one sitting!
1. It was a short book...
2. Also because it was filled with children's drawings that I could very well have drawn... (probably why Budj tagged me...)

But being tagged with the likes of Russel Molina, Nida Ramirez and Kajo is a huge responsibility! I felt I had to respond in a Frasier- like- witty- retort kind of way... I ended up posting this instead...


superlike budj! some thoughts though:

1. I don't believe that people don't dream about musical baboons. That's just plain crazy.
2. I'm already working on training raccoons with my trumpet... so that won't be just a dream anymore. Wish me luck.
3. It was only at the end that I realized the book was for children.

After clicking "post", it was only then I realized I'm such a dork! "...already working on training raccoons..." WTF was I thinking? I should have gone with the one-liner-New York Post- kind- of- comment like "Brilliant." or a Sev Sarmenta review "It was definitely an in-depth look into one's loss of innocence as one comes of age cleverly articulated in a language of children's storybook..."

Fucking screwed it up. I could have made a cool impression with the greats.

To read the book, go to http://veryawesomeworld.com/awesomebook/inside.html.

- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.

A Christmas Story.

It all started with Alabang Carpool. (Yay Alabang 1!) I was in senior year, college, when the Woodrose girls decided to hold a Christmas party for the SOS Children's Village in Alabang. They extended the invitation to all of us in the carpool. It wasn't that hard to coordinate really, we had a Yahoogroup...

Typical of an Atenean, everyone wanted to help out and volunteer... and maybe quietly just wanted to add this to their list of being "men and women for others". Admittedly, they simply had me at "We're serving Jollibee!"

So there I was, spending my weekend in a place I knew nothing about, which was weird considering I lived just a couple of blocks away from it.

And then I met them. All of them.

As we pulled in the driveway a big group of kids ran towards us, all smiles. "Handlers", as I called the social workers/volunteers taking care of the kids (at that time), were with them. So many makulit kids. At one time. OH. MY. GOD. I told myself.

They probably saw me panicking. And so they explained.

~~~

SOS Children's Village is no ordinary village. It's home for a number of children. Not "a home" but "home". Difference lies in the fact that it's no orphanage. No adoption required, no unnecessary anticipation on when some couple will want to pick a kid out of a slew of other kids... like puppies for sale. It's not temporary. It's a real home.

There were about 8 houses inside the compound, each one with around 10-15 kids. Each house had a mother that lives with them. SOS Mothers are unique. They remain single and devote their lives, until they retire at age 60, to care for the children as their own.

The dynamics are the same. They go to school, they do their chores and they get scolded by their mom when they do something bad.

~~~

Out of nowhere a little boy tugged the side of my pants. He stared at me for a while. He obviously hasn't washed his face. He smiled, and asked me "kasama po kayo?". I nodded. And then he took my hand.

We made our way to their little activity center inside where the Woodrose girls had set up their little party treat for the kids. The little boy kept on making kwento. Quite the babbler that kid. They started serving the Jollibee lunch-- Spaghetti with Chickenjoy. Mmmm. The little kids face lit up even more.

Stupid cute kid. Ended up giving him my share of Chickenjoy and Chocolate Sundae.

~~~

It's been five years since that happened. That kid's all grown up now. I've never stopped helping or visiting especially during Christmas. It's always nice to know you're a big part of building someone's home, and most of all how much you influence a little kid's happiness no matter how small the gesture.  

- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.

I'm waiting for meetings today and all I can think of is what I can cook this weekend.
http://www.chow.com/recipes?tag=chow_top_nav;chow_top_nav_inner

CHOW. Just one of the great sites online where you can browse through any and all kinds of recipes. I get all giddy with the idea of roasting a chicken, buttering vegetables and drizzling fresh parmesan cheese over cooked pasta. It's just like Christmas morning. Only you can cook it any damn time you want!

Right now i'm eyeing this bucatini recipe.

You know there is a God. Bliss!

- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.

http://www.facebook.com/Boo

Damn dog. So cute it's starting to get annoying. Tsk.

- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.

Robyn: Dancing on My Own

Hay. :(

- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.

Funny thing just happened at home. I got a call from my mom... who's in the other room.

~~
Mom: Where's your dad?
Sha: eh? I don't know... why are you asking me?
M: He left his phone and didn't tell me where he was going...
S: Maybe he went walking or something... he didn't bring a car.
M: Asan si Jinky?
S: I dunno... probably in ATC. Why'd you ask?
M: Baka kasi nakina Tito Joseph mo...
...
... (long pause)
...
S: uhm... I don't want to call Jinky just to ask if my dad's at their house...
M: Sabagay... weird no?
~~

After a while I heard my dad fussing around in the living room. I texted my mom.

"Your husband is here."

- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.

You know you're getting addicted when you spell "glass tumbler" as "glass tumblr".

- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.

I miss my hair... :(

  


- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.

I'm in a state of euphoria. My arms are numb right now and it's hard for me to type. But the cause of this delirium must. be. shared.

The culprit? Hot packs. Those aromatherapy hot packs. Paired with a really good minty massage oil... Daaaaaammmnnn.

I decided to put some of that new massage oil I bought at a recent trade expo around my neck and shoulders. I figured, might as well use the hot pack I got for my birthday as well... As soon as the heat from the pack came in contact.... Oh. My. God. My arms became putty. Seriously. Oh. My. God. My arms are melting.

Hot packs. It's the only way to go.

 

- Live like there's no tomorrow. Love like it's your last.