wilted flowers

Strawberry float. Taken at last year's Panagbenga.

Heard in the news the other night that the Panagbenga celebration was desecrated by politicians who relentlessly used the said festive event as a convenient venue for their campaign.

WHY IN THE WORLD DO THEY HAVE TO DO SUCH A HIDEOUS THING?

I might as well vote for flowers this coming election. At least, they're pretty and they beautify our surroundings. Not to mention they provide jobs for Dangwa florists.

click it!

The best thing about photoshoots is that you get your own picture taken by a professional photographer FOR FREE.

Stooping from L-R: our client Patis, moi, photog Niña, make-up artist Archie, colleagues Pat & Marts. Sitting: our AD Jonas, photog Paolo, stylist Anne. Niña and Paolo were our models for this project, together with Miguel (not
in photo). Special thanks to daddy Ocs for these cool shots, as always.

I'm trying to act like a pro. That cam has a cooool lens.

please. get out of my way.

Not feeling okay today. Have this headache since last night and I woke up this morning feeling very sleepy.

Ergo, I'm acting a li'l bit bitchy. And I apologize for that. But right now, I'm happy not to be talking too much.

Maybe I'll be back to the sunny me tomorrow. Just for today, please spare me the perky attitude and just don't mess with me.

Thank yew.

that lovely feeling

Queasy is exactly how I feel whenever I'm faced with things larger than me; things that are daunting.

I remember standing at the entrance of this three-storey ukay-ukay building in Baguio, wanting to puke because I felt so overwhelmed I didn't know where to start digging for buys.

Then upon going home late from work last night, I sat at the back seat of the bus. And being at the back seat, I can see how long the bus is, which made me feel nauseated.

Or like last weekend, when Francis and I first stepped into MOA.

And whenever I'm swamped with tons of workloads, I can't eat. I just feel like throwing up.

Perhaps that's my body's way of coping with stress; it's like I have to puke the pressure out of my system.

And I think I'm about to do that in...one. two. three....ulk!!!

i heart dexter

Odd man out. Dexter the white.

Would I freak you out if I say that I'm crushing on a serial killer?

One from this series, that is. Thanks to Cos, I was recently ushered into the world of Dexter, a series about a blood spatter expert by day, serial killer by night. (It's based on Jeff Lindsay's novels Darkly Dreaming Dexter and Dearly Devoted Dexter.)

Dexter Morgan, superbly played by Michael C. Hall (of Six Feet Under, and I love him now), works for the Miami-Dade Police Department. He's actually good at his day job, and equally good at being a serial killer. But he only kills those who have escaped justice. With pizzaz and his own serial killer signature.

Dexter grew up in a foster home; and fortunately for him, he was greatly cared for by his foster parents. In fact, his foster dad (a cop), seeing that he has the makings of a sociopath, taught little Dexter how to divert his violent tendencies, leaving him by what is known as "Harry's code" (Harry is his foster dad). That's why Dexter kills only those he has proven to be guilty of crimes but have evaded the law.

Ah basta, just watch it. It's no CSI show. It's cooler than that. Plus, I love the sense of humor (yes, there is).

And I love Dexter because he's endearing (in his own weird way) and because Michael Hall is hawt.

let's ride!

See you again, soon, Mr. Sun!

Had a simple but sweet (of course) post-V-day celebration with Francis at the Mall of Asia–both of us first-timers to that gigantic place. And with my 4-inch stilettos, you can just imagine how my feet complained.

Anyway, we watched "Ghost Rider". It was actually a choice between that and "Music & Lyrics", but the rider trumped the latter. And to my delight, because I got to see Nicolas, my love. Oh, what pretty hands he has! (Ahaha! I've this thing for nice-looking hands. No stubby ones, please!)

Then it was off to strolling, which brought us to Powerbooks, which in turn made me buy two new books to add to my growing collection. I was so happy to finally get a copy of Virginia Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway and Amy Tan's Saving Fish From Drowning.

The dragon invades the bookshop.

Then it was dinner at Chef d'Angelo. I so love their chicken and their garlic shrimp meal.

All in all, it was great. I guess there'll be a next visit to MOA soon.

déjà vu boo

Why is this happening all over again?

I know patience is a virtue, but at this point, it's like some sort of claustrophobic cell that's slowly killing me.

Why is it that just when I have something planned, some other thing would come up that would preempt whatever I have up my sleeves? It just spoils everything! And I go back to square one with no clue whatsoever as to how to go about the whole thing all over again.

The whole "history repeats itself" drama in my life (career life)? It's no longer funny, nor anecdotal. I'm actually getting tired of it.

So I guess this is my cue to get acquainted with Mr. Depression. Again.

Oh, Lord, please...

apocalyptic

Image from Wikipedia

For the first time in my movie watching life, I felt like throwing up while the bloody, wide screen stared at me.

I'm not really a fan of backpackers-turned-slashed-meat type of movies, so I thought watching Mel Gibson's "Apocalypto" is nothing like that. Though I've read a review stating that the movie remains true to Gibson's gore signature, I still didn't expect it would be that gory. Gory as in I wouldn't recommend eating before, during and even after watching the film. About 20 minutes into the movie, I was asking myself "Why in the world did I let Francis convince me to watch this?" It's not that I don't really want to see "Apocalypto". For one, the reviews are good. Then there's the intrigue factor–the movie's in Yukatek Maya language (according to Wikipedia; it has English subtitles, of course). While some people really mind reading those subtitles, I don't. What I mind is seeing blood, decapitation and disembowelment for like, every 10 minutes or so.

But, but, but..."Apocalypto" delivers plot-wise. It really does. And in case you're still not into movies with subtitles, lemme tell you that you'll barely mind those in this movie because the longest dialogue the characters have delivered just comprises one line.

But if you like gore...then...Why the heck do you like gore?

birthday bash

The Special Pub peeps, and some adopted ones

Free lunch is always sumptuous, especially if it's at Thai Kitchen where there's an everyday eat-all-you-can for just 199 bucks (free plugging!).

So I take this opportunity to say happy birthday (belated and advanced) to Bubbles, Cleo, Cindy, Iza and Patring. Thanks for the free lunch!