New Year's Resolutions

With just a few more days left this year, I think it's high time that you should be drawing up a list no one should be without before the new year comes. I'm not talking about the list of people who screwed 2009 for you, even though that's a totally good idea. I mean, there have been some people this year who should totally not get anything from Santa. Yes, I'm looking at you, Andal Ampatuan, Jr.

Anyway, the list I'm talking about is the one I do every year and forget two days after I write it: New Year's Resolutions.

I've never stuck to my list before, so I've been thinking that maybe 2010 should be different. I dunno why it should be, but it will.

So, with the help of my faithful manservant Friedrich, I've come up with my newest list, which should look almost identical to lists done by mid-twenties women who have no life.



3. Explore new things. Sure, I eat at kanto carinderias that use one serving spoon for all dishes and plates washed in questionable water, but I'm not sure if that's adventurous enough. So next year I'm going to do things so daring that people will remember it for years, like going to a BIR office thirty minutes before lunch break and expect to be treated like a human being. I know, right? Gutsy!


2. Be kinder. I already am, actually. As evidenced by the fact that not one Iloilo Supermart employee has been harmed. Yet. And I also smile to people a lot. I'm drunk most of those times, but still. I think, though, that I should take the kindness thing a notch higher and make a bigger effort of not laughing out loud when Mommy D is on TV.


1. Lose weight. Fine. So, this is a teensy bit similar to most people's lists and one that has been on all of my to-do lists sice I turned 18, which was just a couple years ago, in case you're wondering. Anyway, I'm taking this one seriously next year. Why? Because, some time next year or the year after that, somebody will invent a time machine that would allow me to travel back to late 60s or early 70s and I don't wanna look like a pig when I finally meet John Lennon or Ray Davies.

And if you're thinking the pig comment is one an anorexic might say, just wanna let you know that my weight right now is my ideal weight. If I'm 5'10". So don't judge.

Three for now, but don't worry as this list will get longer as the new year nears. Now, where's Friedrich? I need my cuppa tea.

Think Happy Thoughts

One of the most awesome Pinoy writers of our time, Jessica Zafra, once said of John Carpenter atrocities: "They're a quick cure for a juvenile temper tantrum."

Personally, though, I'm more partial to anything with zombies, be they done by John Carpenter or not. Actually, I'm not sure if John Carpenter has done a zombie movie, but whatever. Point is when feeling like dung, different people have different ways to calm them. Some go for candles, others break stuff. My 6th grade teacher used to say whenever we frustrated her, that the only thing that calmed her down was taking a broom and bashing it against the wall. Poor broom, but better it than us.

Besides flesh-eating reanimated corpses, I also feel a whole lot better about the state of the world when I listen to music. Surprise, surprise. I think this one is universal and holds true for 90% of people. However, I believe that the following I'm going to share has the same effect to all people. Every time I listen to these songs, I've no choice but to be in a good mood. Enjoy!







Of Zombies and Monsters

In Iloilo City, where the drivers are half-decent, the food is scrumptious, and almost everybody is fabulous, it is very difficult to find anything that can get your temper to flare and make you want to devote yourself to the destruction of all things.

However, Iloilo Supermart employees, with their condescending tone and attitude that can only be rivaled by government employees (yes, I'm talking to you, BIR) always manage to do that. You come into the store, full of life and laughter and the promise of a good movie after getting some essentials, like cheap bottled water, and you come out mad as a hornet who has never had a boyfriend.

They're very talented, these people. They should be on a show.

The point I'm making, though, is the only thing that can get me to calm down after an encounter with a creature from any branch of this so-called pride of the Iloilo grocery industry is to plop down in front of a screen and see zombies and undeniably stupid horror movies.

Then, after watching, I not only feel better about the state of things in this city of love, I also feel quite scared because no matter how stupid a horror movie can get, I have this small twinge deep in my heart that one or all of those things can come true.

Yes. I'm a baby with an attitude.

Anyway, with hundreds of horror movies and countless sleepless nights, I'd like to share some that still gets me to think and double lock my door.



Number 3. Undin. Dunno if anybody has heard of this cute little gelatinous monster from a lake, but if you haven't, here's a bit of info. Undin is a character in one of the more entertaining Shake, Rattle & Roll movies (i.e. the ones done the past decade). She is this icky tiyanak looking creature that has more charm than an Iloilo Supermart sales person (sorry, couldn't help it). Anyway, the movie's main character played by Manilyn Reynes takes some eggs from a visit in the lake which turns out to be the Undin's babies.

So she follows her to the city and hides in the toilet bowl and kills almost everybody. No need to go into specifics as the mere mention of that already seems to be too ewww.

Nonetheless, I fancy I saw her once when I was living in our old house and I still remember her when I 'powder my nose'. I don't get scared of her coming out to get me, anymore, though. I mean, that was, like, ten years ago and she resided in a different island.

So there's no way she can come to Iloilo, right? Right? Why don't you answer me?!

*sigh*


Number 2. Cujo. Stephen King's creation, Cujo, is a dog that went on a killing spree. I think he may have been given food my sister cooked. Kidding. He would've died had that happened.

First time I watched this I got so scared I got sick and slept for 18 hours straight. That was one mad dog. I've never seen it again since. Don't ask me to.


And numero uno. Of course, Zombies. They are both my delight and my greatest fear. I love watching zombie movies almost as much as I hate feeling scared when planning for my hiding place should the dead decide to feast on the flesh of the living.

They are fascinating, eww-y, and one of the most entertaining characters ever created. George Romero should have a prize for this. Wait, he already did? Congrats, then.

So there. Flashbacks for some, huge laugh-trip for others. That's okay. We all have our weirdness. Mine is just more possible.

PS. Leave a comment for your own list of things that are ridiculous but you're scared of. And if you laugh at my list, that's cool. I'll just ignore you when the living dead is the dominant power in the world and I'm off to my secret hide-out that can withstand any attack from any and all zombies.

500 Days of Summer. A Review?

Let me start this post by saying that I am now slowly disentangling myself from the tentacles Robinson's Cinema has wrapped around me making me hesitant to watch movies at other places. Why?

Why what? Why can't I watch at other movie houses, or why do I feel the need to disentangle myself? Be clear.

Fine. For the first question, I like sitting like a slave on vacation when I watch a movie and Robinson's Cinema's love seats give me ample space to do that. I also need the extra space for the food I bring in that might be enough to feed at least 3 movie goers; don't judge. Second question: they had 500 Days of Summer for only a week and only 4 screenings a day. Are you kidding me? But nothing I can do, so might as well proceed with this post which, as you can very well guess, is a review of the movie that made me smile like a teenager with no insecurities.

I'm gonna let you wake up from your usual stupor and search for the movie's plot 'cause I've no energy to tell you about it when the only thing that fills my mind is how much I'd love to see this movie again. And again. And one more time after that. I've no idea yet if the magic of the movie diminishes after repeated viewing. Never got a chance to check that thanks to Robinson's Cinema! *pokes voodoo doll with Robinson's Cinema label* But what I know is that if you're one who still believes in love and is a sucker for happy clear cut endings with rainbows and cute little bunnies, then we need to talk. 500 Days of Summer is by no means about a tragedy but it's not a feel-good movie for people with limited working brain neurons either.

What it is, is a fun, a bit tragic, non-linear, laugh-out-loud look at relationships and people who get lost in them. It's not supposed to be taken seriously, much like life. And much like life, it screams truth.

Oh what the heck, let me do a proper review (as if I were capable).

500 Days of Summer stars Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Tom and Zooey Deschanel as Summer. The main plot is classic romantic with boy meets girl, boy falls for girl, girl is boy in the relationship with the non-committing attitude and casual treatment of boy, boy is girl in the relationship with the obsessing about how the girl feels and acting like a puppy dog. The thing is though even when you know they aren't meant for each other, you still want them to be together, if only for boy's sake.

Tom meets Summer at the office where Tom works as a greeting card writer and Summer an assistant. He knows she's the girl for him because of her 60s hairstyle and when she compliments his taste in music, singing The Smiths, “To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die.”
                              



                              


She doesn't want a serious relationship and he agrees even though we feel by how he looks at her that he's already planning the name of their babies. We wanna yell at him, “Wake up, fool! Just enjoy the ride.” But of course, even if Tom magically hears warnings from one who is also hopelessly in love with Zooey, he's not going to listen. I told you, he's the girl in the relationship.

We see them get into all their firsts and when she says, “Let's just be friends.” We get our hearts broken as well.

Not to say the break-up itself is one hilarious moment. Tom is oblivious to the fact that Summer is not happy with the relationship any more and when Summer cites Sid and Nancy as a couple to whom they resemble, Tom is shocked by the implication that he could ever hurt Summer the way Sid hurt Nancy (Sid supposedly stabbed Nancy to death). I laughed out loud when Summer says she's Sid in the relationship. Ah, Zooey.

I've been told that I'm biased when it comes to movies and books I love. I either ignore or am totally not aware of their shortcomings, which they definitey have, and just push through with incessant raving so much that I drive decent people away. That's why, try as I might, I've no idea what things to say that might be bad about the movie. The soundtrack was kick-ass, the actors were cast perfectly, and the dialogue was just right. And besides, no matter how sucky the movie is, Zooey can pull off such an awesome performance nothing seems to matter, e.g. Elf.

Regardless of what I'm incapable of noticing, I urge you to grab a copy of the movie when you can. If you don't wanna take it from me, fine. But don't miss a brilliant turn on an age-old story with one of the coolest actresses all girls have a crush on.

Oh, and if you've seen it, what's your favorite part of the movie? Mine was when they were in IKEA.










 

500 Days of Summer (Not a Review)




I have amazing news that I couldn't wait to share. Well, I could wait but, why?


The latest copy of Manila Bulletin and the churva outside Robinson's that shows what movies are showing in their cinemas – what do you call it? – confirm the information I was just guessing about the past week and that is, 500 Days of Summer is out!


Now, don't go calling me low-tech who has no idea how to download movies to avoid going stark-raving crazy while waiting for a good movie to come out. First off, I am low-tech, no need to broadcast that. Second, I want to see one of my dearest girl-crushes in the big screen as I felt a computer monitor is not enough to accommodate those big blue eyes. Yes. Zooey Deschanel has eyes even Bambi is envious of. And the fact that she can act doesn't hurt either. Ah, Zooey...

Anyway, one other reason I'm gonna traipse on to the cinemas tomorrow with no sleep just to watch this movie, not once but twice, is the fact that The Smiths is mentioned as some sort of common denominator between the two characters.


According to reviews from downloaders and people who live in cities who get to have movies shown early, the soundtrack for this piece of amazing rom-com is brilliant. At first, I wasn't sure, because what's brilliant for them might be the soundtrack to the movie Glitter, and we all know how that affects me. Oh wait, you don't? I get uncontrollable urges to smash breakable objects and/or heads. Not safe. So I researched and found out they might actually be right. The soundtrack to the movie includes The Smiths, Hall and Oates, and Simon and Garfunkel. There was also a mention of Belle and Sebastian in the movie, and that just screams “cool!”.


I'm not gonna reserve the review for my next post, 'cause that might not be for a long time if the movie is everything it promises to be, which is a love story with just enough deadpan cynicism from Zooey to make it as far from gooey as a rom-com can possibly make it. I tend to be incoherent right after watching or reading something I like. See previous review for proof. However, if the movie sucks eggs, the resulting review would not be fit for viewing. I also tend to be mercilessly abusive colored with enough swear words that make sailors blush.



Let's hope for all our sakes, and for the love I hold for Zooey, that the movie delivers.

Kris Kringle at VAT


Kris Kringle! Christmas Party! Stockings!

You say these words here at the office and you can almost feel people shake with excitement. Can you blame us? Christmas is coming, man. And unlike the year when I decided to boycott the whole shebang and just eat stale bread dunked into lukewarm coffee, this year is definitely going to be a blast.

I personally got a bit of a high when I was asked to do a wish list. A wish list?, I asked. Whatever for? You have to understand that I was raised in an environment where you don't ask for anything and just be thankful for what you get. Be it a loud pink shirt that went perfectly well with your sun-burnt skin, or hair ribbons when your hair was pixie-short, you smile and say thanks right before you hide the damn things and hope they are never found.

I'm not complaining, though. I agree with the whole idea of raising kids that way. Gets rid of the brat in you and replaces it with one who is bent on revenge. Kidding.

The art of creating a wish list is a novel experience. It means you get to think of what you really WANT and not something necessary. That's the whole point of presents, ain't it? They have to be something you wouldn't buy for yourself. Otherwise, why do the whole thing?

Being a virgin wish list maker, I made a novice mistake of writing things I like but I don't have a problem getting for myself.  You get my drift?

You see I'm a huge fan of books. Seeing a book store, especially one that sells used books, is almost an orgasmic experience for me. So when I wrote books on my wishlist - only books, nothing else - it wasn't really in the spirit of the whole thing. I mean, I can get all those things, I'm just waiting for a huge sale.


So let me take this opportunity to tell whoever got my name for the Kris Kringle, whoever you are - you magnificent example of perfection in the virtual assistance field - I'd like to change whatever's on the suggested list into a Magic 8 Ball or a huge Chowder toy or world peace. Okay, go with the ball or Chowder. Pretty please? I knew you'd understand.

*sigh*

Glad that that's out my chest.

Now, any suggestions for something long and juicy?

Sunday Showdown: Pacquiao Vs. What's-His-Name

FYI.


If you see grown men in your neighborhood foaming at the mouth with a vacant look in their eyes while glued to their transistor radios, don't call the police in panic. First off, the police will be in entirely the same state. And second, it's not a new version of the H1N1 virus. They are acting like non-stationary cadavers with AM radio addiction because Manny Pacquiao plays on Sunday.

Yep. The Pinoy champ is playing against some guy from some country who has some belts won in some other fights with some other guys. I dunno. I'm not gonna embarrass myself by speaking 'sports' when I honestly have no idea what it is, except that people sweat when they do it. And smell.

Anyway, I know more about this fight than any other sport stuff (except 90s NBA) because I don't live under a rock. Surprisingly. My male neighbors talk about the match when they meet each other on the street, when they hang out while slugging down cheap whisky, when they lounge in front of their homes with other male neighbors, and even when they are alone. I know this because I heard my uncle argue why Cotto is getting knocked out on the 5th round and not on the 1st while feeding his chickens. By himself.

Of course, we women also share this obsession with Pacquiao and the sport of kicking people's butts. I mean we ask our sport-oriented friends, "What's Pacquiao wearing at the after party?" and we want to know, "What will they name their next child?". We share in the discussions and even get angry when some people liken his mom to Amor. We say, "Hell, no. Amor is prettier than that." See? We care.

The difference is we don't have a countdown posted on our homepage and a blog - with polls and posts as far back as 4 months ago - solely dedicated to a fight that will last all of 20 minutes. We don't get mad when our friend mispronounces Michael Cotto's name, oops sorry did it again (sorry Melv), Miguel Cotto, I mean.

Sure, we have countdowns on our blogs for Harry Potter releases, the next shoe sale, or even the opening of yet another boutique - and that proves the theory that most people might not have heard of but will surely agree with: men and women are different.

*hears gasp from reader*

Oh, don't overreact. Of course, men and women are different. We watch movies for the romance, they watch it for the explosions. We like to talk about the latest Hollywood hookup, they like to talk about the latest draft pick in some team or other. We go to the mall to shop, they go to the mall because we force them to.

One thing's for sure, though. Different as we might be, no matter what we believe in, come Sunday, all Filipinos of either gender and any affiliation located anywhere in the world will be united under one common goal. And that is to grab the remote first. Coz I ain't missing A League Of Their Own.




The Boat That Rocked: A Lesson in Rock N' Roll


I don't normally review movies I like because I end up gushing shamelessly without a thought to the reputation I've been trying to improve. However, after watching Richard Curtis' latest comedy that features guys with the sexiest accents and music that can make you sing out loud, I couldn't help but pen down my thoughts that will turn out to be incoherent as I go along. To say that the movie rocked is the biggest understatement of the year. It was funny, sexy, insightful, and filled with the most kick-ass music.

But first, I have to stop gushing and give you at least a basic idea what the movie is about.

The Boat That Rocked, aka Pirate Radio in the US, is about a pirate radio ship anchored off the coast of England in international waters playing rock and pop music for UK listeners. The exclusively rock and pop station, Radio Rock, is at odds with the government for playing rock music 24/7 and for DJs that use cuss words a lot. It is 1966 and, like most people in authority, the guv'nors have their knickers in a twist.

The movie begins with Carl, played by a cute young actor named Tom Sturridge, arriving on Radio Rock, after getting expelled from school for smoking, to bond with his godfather, played by Bill Nighy. His mother thought he might get sorted out having a father figure around, a decision that turns out to be a 'spectacular mistake'. He meets the other members of the pirate radio ship and gets into all sorts of trouble, meets a boatload of women, loses his virginity, and basically hangs out with the coolest buncha guys you could ever hope to meet.

If you have seen this movie already, you'd understand why I can barely put into words how cool it was. If you haven't and is a fan of Bill Nighy, or Phillip Seymour Hoffman, or Shaun of the Dead's Nick Frost, then you should definitely check it out. If you have seen the movie and didn't like it and think I should stop with this incessant raving, too bad.

So why do I love thee? Let me count the ways...


1. The music. The soundtrack for this movie is to-die-for. You'll hear all awesome 60s music that makes you question where modern 'rocker' posers get their inspiration from. They've The Who, The Turtles, Small Faces, Jimi Hendrix, The Beach Boys, my lover David Bowie, and their awesomeness The Kinks. Listening to the songs is enough to make you wish you belonged in that generation.

I mean, someday when we have kids, what music do we have to share them from our decade? Don't break my heart and say Chris Brown. Boy, how awesome would it be to have been alive when rock still was?

*sigh*


2. Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Oh, those eyebrows. They're enough to make you offer yourself. And maybe include your first born as well. I have loved Phillip Seymour since he played Lester Bangs in another movie that featured awesome music in another decade I should have been in. He's a brilliant actor and thoroughly believable as one who knows his rock music. And that voice is so powerful - when he says jump, I jump.


3. Bill Nighy. You know you've seen this guy but don't know where? He was Davy Jones in Pirates of the Caribbean, Viktor in the Underworld movies, the crazy rocker Billy Mack in Love Actually, and will play Rufus Scrimgeour in the last Harry Potter movies. He also was the voice of Whitey in Flushed Away and was in both movies that starred Simon Pegg and Nick Frost – Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz.

This guy's already 60, but still exudes so much sex appeal he can still leave you breathless. And you just got to love how he speaks, such personality!


4. Men with sexy accents. There's something about British accent that makes women go wild. It's not just me, too. Ask random women and they'll tell you they're more likely to take their clothes off when pursued by a guy that speaks the Queen's English. This movie has so many guys with sexy accents I could barely keep my head straight. Nick Frost (from Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz), Chris O'Dowd (from the IT Crowd), Jack Davenport (from Pirates of the Caribbean), Rhys Ifans (Adam Sandler's HOT older brother in Little Nicky), who will also join Bil Nighy in the last Harry movies as Xenophilius Lovegood.

Dang, girls, you have no idea how hot it got listening to these guys talk.


5. Tom Wisdom. I know I should just have included him in the previous paragraph, but I'd like to properly introduce the new love of my life.

Yes.

While I wait for Slash's divorce, Tom and I will be in a passionate, toe-curling affair that will have even the most experienced blush. As one of the 300 Spartans, I think he has what it takes to guarantee satisfaction. And mixed with his The Boat That Rocked character, Midnight Mark, the resident ladies man in Radio Rock, Tom and his leather pants are all I need in a deserted island. Mmmm, yummy...




So there. If that doesn't make you want to go and watch the movie, then you're either a Miley Cyrus fan or dead inside. There's nothing more I can do for you.

Now if you'll excuse me, I think I need another dose of Midnight Mark.

My Aunt's WTF Moment?

I'm not one to fall for tall stories if it happened to somebody I haven't even met. Exceptions to this rule come in the form of outstanding literature (yes, I believe there was a Middle Earth) done by any and all authors of the fantasy genre. Well, maybe not Stephenie Meyer. Okay, fine, I'll include her.

My family has heard its share of scary stories and I've told some of them myself. Believing them is an entirely different matter. Although I've to admit the one about Tenyente Gimo is one that still has me scared of going out of town with new friends. If you have no idea who he is and what story he's in, wait for my next post.

Anyway, my aunt's latest money-making exploit is to go out of town and sell stuff during market day. It's a sure fire hit if you're pushy and lucky and can carry a bag filled with a hundred bars of laundry soap that weigh almost as much as your average 4-year-old kid that eats too much.

One of the places they went to was Antique, pronounced with 3 syllables. They decided to go individually and knock on doors instead of just hanging out at the market waiting for people to convince themselves the unknown detergent my aunt's group is selling can clean as well as Tide. Fat chance.

My aunt went on a secluded looking little path that had maybe 5 houses along it, at the most. None of the houses seem to show signs of life, but she told herself maybe if she shouted loud enough, somebody was bound to buy a bar. The last house on the lane looked as empty as the others, but this time my aunt decided to knock on the front door instead of just calling out on the street outside the fence, beyond the reach of possible dogs.

When she came near the door, she noticed that there were signs of movement from inside, as evidenced by shadows stirring visible through a gap between the floor and the door. She called out, "Special offer, sir, ma'am..."

More movements, but the door remained closed. She called again. This time she heard approaching footsteps. Then a lock being removed. Finally, the knob turned. My aunt was already preparing for her special offer spiel and extending her hands filled with special offer soap when the door opened and she almost turned Caucasian with fright.

The man on the other side of the door was wearing dirty trousers and a shirt with the logo of a famous pest control brand, but what got my aunt to curse her choce of livelihood is the spit that was hanging from the man's mouth and stretching all the way to his waist. He didn't blink. He didn't say anything. He merely stared at my aunt while his saliva continued its mission of possibly reaching the floor.

Now if I were in this position, I would undoubtedly either go limp with fright and be dinner to the guy, or scream my lungs out while running like hell. My aunt was of a stronger disposition than me, bless her. What she did was still go through the spiel she prepared for the soap-selling while slowly backing out of the man's yard and never breaking eye contact. When she got clear of the man's reach, assuming his reach was that of a normal man's, my aunt high-tailed it out of there, and has now decided never to go back to that town again.

Of course we have no idea what or who the guy was. Or why he was slobbering like that. Maybe he was just so hungry (the normal way). Or maybe he was in a competition with another old man from the same village on how long they can let their drool hang out. We don't know. But with the reputation, that I only just heard of, of towns outside Iloilo being home to creatures of the night, my aunt was probably justified in reacting the way she did.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've to double lock the doors. You never know.

The City of Smiles Vs. The City of Love

The VS. in the title should warn you of the main topic this blog would be discussing. If not, then we would need to re educate you, which would take weeks and would not give you time to read this blog now. Run along, my sweet.

So, for those remaining and have at least a basic knowledge of abbreviations and their meanings, let's start.

I spent last weekend in the second city I call home, a small one south of my current place of residence and home of the Masskara Festival. Monday off meant a long weekend and rather than starving myself in Iloilo, I decided to make a smart move for once and spend my extended weekend eating my mom's cooking in Bacolod. And boy, am I still full.

Besides eating like an inmate on death row in his last hours, though, I also had time to think of things I already put in the back of my mind when I moved back here. When one has been a resident of two cities, one can't help but compare the two, especially when one is bored. So in the spirit of honesty and that feeling you get when you want to incite a heated debate but don't want to really say it out loud, I would like to present the list that all inhabitants of both cities must have.

In Iloilo City:

1. Cuter jeepneys. Yep. The City of Love is home for the best looking jeepneys this side of the Pacific. And you don't realize that until you set foot in the land of sugar canes. I don't mean to say that Bacolod has hideous-looking jeepneys; all I'm saying is they're butt-ugly. I rode on one the first time I was there; I accidentally dropped some change and they went straight to the streets. No hope of recovery since the jeepney driver couldn't hear me with all the clunking noise the vehicle was making. And, what's more, they have the slowest public utility vehicles, or rather the slowest drivers for public utility vehicles. These men worship corners and would spend at least 15 minutes at each one with no regards to the fact that the jeepney is full and there are no other people in sight that could possibly want to ride the jeepney.

I think they're praying.

2. Better customer service. This came as a huge surprise for me as I have been crusading for the destruction of all Iloilo Supermart employees for years now. I was of the opinion that they were the vilest, most irritating pretend-clerks that ever existed.

I was wrong.

I met some who can give IS employees a run for their money. And these weren't from out of the way, small businesses but big franchises like Chowking and SM. 
I was in Watson's one time looking for a St. Ives moisturizer and of course was just happy to ask for assistance from an employee, and I was treated worse than if I was at a Bureau of Internal Revenue office 20 minutes before lunchtime.

In Bacolod City:

1.Cleaner environment. Go around down town Iloilo for two hours between 9am and 5 pm. The dirt and grime that you collect in those two hours equal the dust and grime you collect going around down town Bacolod from 9am-5pm for two days. Believe me. I'm as serious as Mel Carreon every time he runs.

2.More eating choices. They have more restaurants along one street than in all of Iloilo City. They have Bob's Cafe, which is cheaper than Coffee Break and more delish than Starbucks. And while you're at it, they also have Starbucks. Not to mention that the best tasting litson manok I've ever tasted came from Bacolod.


I'm not siding with either of the cities I mentioned, you must understand (iloilo! iloilo!); I'm just looking out for you. You know me. I care more about other people than I do myself.


*looks away and whistles* ... Ummm...what were we talking about?


Oh, that! So,yeah, visit both places and check to see if what I say is true, which I think you'd do 'cause you don't trust me. But that's fine. *sniffles and looks away* I'm just gonna wait here for your thoughts when you're back.
 

Chocolate Deprived Musings



I'm a 25-year-old single female with a decent job, a nice family, acceptable intelligence. A lot of things working for me. Well, at least I think so. I'm not that bad looking. My mother was even heard once to have said that with the right lighting, a bottle of beer and when she leans her head just so, I can almost pass off as pretty. But why oh why am I still single? And it's just not me, we have more old maids in this city than in any city in the world.

With all the Saturday nights I spent alone, I've had more than ample time to speculate on the possible reasons why the fabulously awesome women in Iloilo are still unfortunately(?) single.

1. Women outnumber men 7 to 1. The men in Iloilo City are spoiled. They might deny this but it doesn't make it less true. With more choices, most of them willing, men here have this incurable fascination to unfaithfulness. It's true. Ask the person next to you and I bet my life savings, which amounts to fifty pesos, that he/she knows somebody whose husband or boyfriend is cheating on them.

I point this out to a male friend and he says that all the cheating men do in this city is in the spirit of social work. He says that in response to the need posed by the women in our society for a testosterone-fueled carbon-based life form,they (the testosterone-fueled carbon-based life forms), self-sacrificing creatures that they are, are just giving us what we want. This coming from a guy who believes WWE is real; he cried when The Undertaker was 'buried'.

But you have to agree though that, twisted it may be, the guy has a point. The blatant polygamous activities of some men in this city might be in support for a cause they believe in, i.e. making women happy.

Nevertheless, it still saddens me that with the double duty the boys are doing in service of us, there are still women in this city that sleep alone at night and only dream of their Prince Charming until their hair turns grey.

2. Quota. This theory came up during one of my fat-chewing sessions with other single friends. You see, we have this friend who's been in and out of relationships since she turned 14. She two-timed, three-timed , and I think there was an instance where she four-timed. Based on the number of boys she's had and the number of girls in our little girl group, we think the reason why some of us in the group are still single is that we've used up the assigned number of guys to us. Or rather, she did.
We deduce that God, or any deity you believe in, only gives a certain number of boys to a group of girls. And it's up to the girls on how to divvy up the number so that each one gets a fair share, and 3 of my friends have never had a boyfriend 'cause our friend exhausted our supply.

Try. Check if you have a friend who's been single since birth and I bet, not my life savings but maybe just one cup of instant coffee, that you also have a friend who's had more than her share of boyfriends.

I'll leave you two theories/reasons for now. Off to eat lunch.

*tosses hair then leaves*