Rainy Rainy Rainy

My friend Yucel refers to this as my moat!

It's the abandoned construction site behind the Makati Central Fire Station, filled in with rainwater and now growing a lovely layer of algae and other gross stuff.

We've not only stocked up on mosquito repellent; we've had the pest control squad through to spray for them as well as all sorts of other creepy crawlies.

Still no spray for Crazy Girl, who continues to bump into me in inopportune places and times.

Fixing My Stuff

My American friend Antonio once told me of his surprise that Filipinos seem to lack hobbies and other interests. While this may be true from the sampling he was taking, it is not so for my friends and acquaintances. They are avid enthusiasts in badminton, photography, poi/zipping, swimming, and fixing their stuff.

I'll pause here for a moment while a number of you click on the link to poi/zipping to see what that is all about.

Go ahead. The words aren't going anywhere.

Lalalalalala......

Now that you're back, the next question likely on your mind is how much broken shit my friends have, since they're all fixing their stuff.

I've wondered it myself.

People are always saying I like fixing my stuff when I ask them what they like to do. Then I find out they know nothing about repairing anything at all. So they're not do-it-yourselfers.

As all of the respondents have been men, I briefly thought they meant they enjoyed readjusting themselves when their undies pinched at them. That could be fixing their stuff, right? But I doubt they consider that an interest or hobby. If it is, they all think they're Michael Jackson.
This may be the case and explains why I also often hear I'll be there as soon as I fix my stuff. Though, if it takes that much time, it must be something else...and I'm not going there...at least not here!

If, by fixing, they mean cleaning, these people are the Felix Ungers of the Philippines.

So, what on earth does fixing my stuff mean?

Edson doesn't know. It must have been added to the popular jargon during his six years in the U.S.

So, the question is out there.

While I await an answer, I'm going to go and...hmmm... Maybe I'll fix my stuff.

Mama's Got a Brand New Bag

I've spoken often (and maybe written here) about handbags. Primarily I am referring to the seeming billions of absolutely hideous, superbly ugly, what-were-they-thinking atrocious, terrifically tacky, overwhelmingly ostentatious, bedazzled, bejeweled, overly-ornamented, disgustingly designed, crap-o cheap-o uuuuuuugly handbags found in Landmark Department store. You can't miss them even with your eyes closed they are that hideous!

Edson often scolds me for commenting on the hideous handbags as we walk through the extraordinarily large sea of them we must pass through to get to Glorietta on our route there.

Our dear friend Opal, who is in the country for several weeks, was subjected to them yesterday as we walked with her to eat dinner. But fortunately for her, we had stopped in Greenbelt 5 (the Greenbelt complex is across the street) first to see what new shops had opened and to show her a shop owned by a mutual friend. There she saw good bags. You know, well made items made by influential brands and skilled craftspeople.

It was there she fell in love.

And best of all, love was on sale. Big sale.

Love was with her as we walked through the hideous handbags at Landmark.

I was paying close attention to Opal when she found herself surrounded by the ugly handbags.

You all remember the look on Judy Garland's face when she, as Dorothy Gale, faces the Wicked Witch of the West in the Wizard of Oz?
Well, Opal's reaction wasn't quite that extreme, but pretty close!

(Those bags are that hideous I'm telling you!)

She couldn't look for long without feeling sorry for the poor bags.

Yes, sorry.

For men who are reading this, you have to understand that bags and shoes take priority in a woman's life. They are almost more important that the clothes she wears along with them. Don't believe me? Go watch Sex and the City.

So we hurried to Glorietta and the restaurant where we caught up with her and all that has happened since we last saw her back at New Years.

It's good to have her here, even if only for several weeks. She reminds me of myself back in my college days because, like her I had a virtually unlimited supply of energy. Today I get tired just hearing about all the things she can do or thinking about all the things I used to do each day or week.

I'm tired thinking about it now. But that's probably because I was up very early today for a photo shoot and it is almost one in the morning now.

So I'll end here and go to bed.

What?

Oh, but of course I did!!

I wouldn't put together an entire blog entry like this without a photo!!

So here's Opal with her Ate Edson and newfound love:

100th Post!

Yes, I know it was just last month the blog turned a year old and you couldn't believe you'd been enduring my musings for that long. Now, as you're reading this, you're realizing you're being subjected to them for the 100th time. And yet you read on...

(Evil laugh.)

Well, nothing earthshaking has happened recently, unless you count the earthquake earlier in the week. It was in the morning that it occurred and aside from a brief sway of the building, the only other sign anything had happened was the cord from the telephone on the wall swaying back and forth. Sorry, no walls crumbling, no gaping rifts in the earth outside our window, no tsunamis, no havoc and despair...although that would give Fox News something to report (remember what news organizations used to do?) instead of trying to make Americans fear the possibility of a black man elected as president. I don't care whether someone supports McCain or Obama, but everyone everywhere should be outraged at the blatant bigotry toward Obama from the so-called newspeople at that so-called news network, and their efforts to scare voters from voting for a candidate on the basis of his skin color. But presidential elections in the US aren't about issues and what policies and actions a candidate proposes anymore, it's about their past, who lived near them when they were a child, and what color skin they chose at birth.

Meanwhile, the Philippines had its own Lorena, er...Lorenzo Bobbitt in the news. Apparently, while at a love hotel, a guy found out his boyfriend cheated on him with another (a woman) and, like Lorena, waited until the boyfriend was asleep and sliced it off. Hotel workers rushed to the room when they heard the screaming. Unlike John Bobbitt, doctors were unable to reunite the victim with his missing appendage as the boyfriend had flushed it down the toilet after cutting it off. And that pregnant Filipino man in the US delivered a baby girl.

Disasters (natural or otherwise) and news of the weird. That actually pretty much sums things up in and about the Philippines!

Other things:

Harvey Korman died. (Made us sad.)

George Carlin died. (Made us sad.)

Watched hours of old Carol Burnett shows and clips of Carlin in stand-up. (Made us laugh.)

Ringo Starr turned 68. (Made peace signs, said peace & love. Made everyone feel good.)

My nephew Nick turned 10. (Made my sister feel old. Me? No. He's her kid.)

Happy birthday, guys!!

And now, for something completely different:

Another amazing sunset.

Rainy season.

Rainy season.
SPF 30 rainy season.

An amazingly huge Bench billboard of Dingdong Dantes and his...dingdong.
(Watch out, ma'am!)

Musing...

Peace & Love

Ringo Starr was recently asked what he hoped to receive for his upcoming birthday (July 7th). Ringo's answer was unconventional, he said, "just more Peace & Love."

Then he expanded his wish further, "it would be really cool if everyone, everywhere, wherever they are, at noon on July 7 make the peace sign and say "Peace & Love."

Wherever you are in the world, join him in making the peace sign and saying, singing, shouting, whispering, signing, writing or quietly thinking one message: "Peace & Love."
(Image taken from here.)

I think of this as I think of a friend here in the Philippines who was stabbed a few days ago in his home by someone he thought to be his friend.

I think of it as people rudely and recklessly drive the streets of metro Manila.

I think of it as I think of so-called "Christian" conservative groups who have wasted time, talent, energy, and billions of dollars for decades attempting to keep interracial couples from marrying, gays from marrying, women from equality, children from being adopted because the adoptive parents are unmarried or single, preventing contraceptive use (thus, promoting disease, hunger and overpopulation).

I think of it as I hear the most rude chismis (gossip) about others here and abroad, spread not just by people over coffee, bloggers and other internet site writers, but even by television news people. (read: every on-air personality on Fox, several at MSNBC, and a couple at CNN)

I think about it when I say it to others, type it as a closing to an email, instant or text message.

I'm thinking it now. Be sure to think about it on Monday.

Peace & Love to you and yours.

Pest Control

This entry has been a long time in the posting due to lack of a title.

Inspiration for the above came from a call from the reception desk of the Columns the other day. They were notifying me that the pest control services agents were on their way up to spray. They were supposed to have come several days earlier. I stayed home waiting for them, but they never showed. That is typical. In the past year I've spent a couple weeks worth of days here waiting for exterminators, fire inspectors, etc. who never show up.

But this entry isn't about that.

It is about a pest, though. One that I wish I could control.

I call her Crazy Girl.

Crazy Girl is a twenty-something year old who lives here in the Columns.

I believe she's Brazilian, though I've never heard her speak in Portugese. I don't think the possibility she's Brazilian has anything to do with her being crazy. That is probably due to her fondness for blonde hair dyes. I pluralized that because her hair is dyed multiple shades of blonde.

Crazy Girl first appeared a few months ago and announced herself to me saying I see you everywhere!

Everywhere?, I thought. I thought only God could be seen everywhere. Apparently everywhere is limited to the Makati central business district, where we both live, eat, and shop.

I pointed out that I couldn't be seen everywhere and she became frustrated, pouted her lips, and went into a sort of tantrum, behaving much like a six-year old child. I've seen her do this other times as well.

She also stops at inopportune places, sits on the floor, and text messages. I noticed her doing that a week or so ago on one of the narrow third floor bridges connecting towers one and two of the busy RCBC Plaza across the street from us when Edson and I went to eat at the restaurants there.

She noticed me talking with a friend at the swimming pool here and told me she thought it made me look gay to be talking with him for so long.

Who else am I going to talk to? The palm trees? Lounge chairs? I wouldn't look gay, just insane.

Anyway, last week Edson and I were returning from dinner and had just entered the elevator when we heard someone shout Hold the elevator!

Guess who it was.

Nope, not Imelda Marcos. Try again.

Nope, not George Bush on his Farewell Tour. (I think he knows I can't wait to see him leave office...and speaking of an office in need of pest control!)

One more guess.

Crazy Girl, you say? That's right!

(You readers are so smart!)

She entered the elevator, and without even aknowledging Edson's existence, says to me I saw you at the pool the other day. -Pause- You're a confident swimmer. -Pause- Your swimsuit looks nice on you. You have a big butt.

Fortunately, the elevator didn't have to stop between the lobby and her floor, so the trip was quick enough that that was pretty much all she could say.

Edson's ability to restrain his laughter was really being tested. So was mine.

So there we have it.

I have an admirer/stalker/pest.

Yesterday she took her lunch with a friend by the pool, staring at me the whole time.

What to do with her?

I could spend more time with Edson and/or my friend at the pool. Perhaps looking gay will dissuade her.

Perhaps I should have asked the pest control guy to go down to her place?

Maybe next time.


Aside: I barely know how to swim. Though I am in the pool regularly practicing. Any confidence I have is put to the ultimate test once my head goes underwater!

Aside again: I do not have a big butt. I've even lost four pounds in the past month!

Aside ver. 3.0: Now I need to find out what suit makes my butt look big.