Liv in a Life Well-Lived

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer Starring: Ben Whishaw, Dustin Hoffman, Professor Snape I heard about the book through Sep, who exclaimed over dinner one night that she wants to get her hands on the novel Perfume, which the movie I’m about to discuss is based on. I trust Sep’s taste for it has never failed me yet, so I decided to find the book meself. Turns out, it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. Nothing in bookstores, nothing on-line. I’ve also surfed the pirate waves, and came up with nada, zilch, niente. So I just went to a video store and borrowed a copy of the movie which sat gathering flies on the New Releases shelf. I felt a surge of hope when I saw how nobody seems to want to watch it. Hellboy and My Only U is all out, but Perfume remained. It must be more than just crap then. More people like crap nowadays, sells better. And I was right. Visually gripping, would be my word for the film. How one movie can capture reality so viscerally, I cannot say. I am not sure it

Why does every single picture taken of Rob Pattinson and Kirsten Stewart looks like they've just been to a Britney No-Panties Allowed Party? Absolutely looking trashed, in each and every frame. See for yourself. No love lost between me and the movie OR the book, but believe me, it's not the reason why I'm commenting on this. Well, maybe a little. On the lighter side, I read on Yahoo that searches on how to achieve Rob Pattinson's hair as Ed Cullen has reached gajillions. ... ? ... Really? I thought it was fairly obvious. Put on Maximum load, climb into washing machine, ask someone to press start, then go out to hang dry. This is the simpler method, because the other one involves a tornado and the murder of the Wicked Witch of the West. But for those who seriously, seriously, seriously need to know, here's what the experts have to say about it: How To Get Rob Pattinson's Hair: http://hairstyling.suite101.com/article.cfm/how_to_get_robert_pattinsons_hair (dis

Ten Reasons Why I am being Thankful at 1:59 a.m.: 10. I paid my December membership for Fitness First: 1 more month to go and Im free!!! 9. My back didn't hurt as much today. 8. Ella and I went window shopping at Trinoma and Shang (kaya kahit masakit paa, okay lang) 7. Bought 2 books on sale: Jack of Ravens by Mark Chadbourn and Gentlemen and Players by Joanne Harris 6. I saw Jericho Rosales (sabay-sabay: Jericho!!) 5. We bought lamb chops sa Rustans for our Media Noche (I'm cookin'!) 4. Ella bought me a pink shawl type poncho which makes me feel so Zara. 3. She also bought me a 4g USB and I can finally stash ALL my downloads in it. 2. I finished Wyvern Hall by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes while waiting around in Powerbooks. It was great! 1. I have finally submitted the on-line application form for the UN Democratic Fund Proposal, and I am finally, truly free to enjoy my vacation. yey for things to be thankful for!!!

but hot damn. He is legal already, right? Younger than my sister, but I've heard heck is a place where age doesn't matter. :)

When did it happen? My inaanak which I last saw while he was 6 months old is now a towering adolescent. My twin cousins are now rambuctious nine-year-olds but somehow they still looked like 5-year-olds in my head. Ella's friends are now managers, models, etc. Jamie is getting married on January. I am growing freakin' old, which proves nobdy really knows they're getting older. Everyone feels the same age inside. No wonder so many people are in denial about it. How old are you?

When did it happen? My inaanak which I last saw while he was 6 months old is now a towering adolescent. My twin cousins are noew rambuctious nine-year-olds but somehow they still looked like 5-year-olds in my head. Ella's friends are now managers, models, etc. Jamie is getting married on January. I am growing freakin' old, which proves nobdy really knows they're getting older. Everyone feels the same age inside. No wonder so many people are in denial about it. How old are you?

I'm not really sure when the holidays started becoming a season of frenetic activity for me. When I was a kid, Christmas was when I relax and watch the adults lead themselves to a frenzy. I guess I really have crossed that threshhold, huh? Nevertheless, to everyone reading this blog, you're most probably loyal friends. Thus, let me greet everyone a Blessed Christmas and a More Blessed New Year!

James, age 22, has just had a car accident on his way home from work. No one was injured, but his mother's car was totalled. He arrives home to tell his mother what happened. First Person: Oh crap. Oh jolly holy crap. My eyes felt like they were burning in their sockets. The doctor who checked me up after the accident proclaimed I was fine, which means the feverish sensation I’m feeling right now is just all in my imagination. I might just be a trifle terrified about what I’m about to do. You can’t blame me anyhow. How does anyone tell their mother you just wrecked her Honda? I’m standing on her front porch and I can’t even ring the godforsaken doorbell. “James?” Ma called out from the side path. So she was out back and saw me come in. “What are you doing here so early?” “Uh… Ma. I have a little news for you.” I sgueezed my hands - open and close. “You see… there was an accident.” “Accident?” her eyes were quizzical. Then I saw when she realized what I must mean. “Are you hurt?” I

I have just been reading a crappy book. It’s by Sophie Kinsella, who I don’t personally consider crappy at all, except that the genre is crappy. It’s crappy but it’s good. For a chick lit. It’s her latest book, Remember Me. I hate it. I hate that it’s making me so want things that I really want. And for making these things so far away from where I am standing in right at this moment. Where am I standing in this moment? Actually, I’m sitting. Typing on my laptop. Inside a seedy room in a provincial inn somewhere off the coast of Bataan. I just finished reading a book where the protagonist lost her memory, woke up rich, fabulous and married to a gorgeous fascist, but found out she wants to be her old self again. And in the end, she finds herself with her old friends and with her one true love. And it brought me to remember my daddy. Not that I consider my Dad as my one true love, that’s sick. I love him with all of my soul, but I think I remembered him because the guy being described in

Oh my freakin' gosh. I scared myself today by making an effort to be nice. I mean, I had to exert actual effort to remind myself to do the kind, patient thing. I guess I don't spurt rainbow off my ass nowadays anymore. It's something I have to concentrate on now. What happened? I think for a long while I have convinced the world, and even myself, that I am a nice person. I really don't know where I made the wrong left turn. But today reminded me how being nice gets you nice things in return. The world was nicer today. Like it used to. Before the earth opened up to swallow me whole. For example: 1. I decided to give up an hour to help out in a research being done by a sister of a workmate. In the end, she gave me National Bookstore GCs. 2. I decided to temper my anger about a woman who was late for our meeting. Now, I can stand being in the same room with her. AND -- I learned I was part of a free lunch being sponsored by one of our member companies. 3. I did not whine t

I know I have flamed a lot of movies already, and I tend to be spicier when the movie is irrevocably bad. Yet a lot of the bad movies I watched sunk to oblivion. I wouldn't even bother writing about it. I just regret the few hours I battered my brain with it. But there are some out there that just needs to be... let's put it this way, people need to know not to bother with it. I'm doing God's work, methinks. That's how I feel about this confused, poor-everything (acting, plot, writing, directing, script... the list can go on forever) movie that happens to be called Dedication. Mandy Moore is in it. That should explain everything, actually (think Walk to Remember and magnify the pathetic acting seven-fold). Why I even gave this movie a chance can be summarized into two words: Billy Crudup. Hunky, almost-can-act... almost. But for some reason, he is the main reason why this movie feels so sluggish. Wargh. Just remembering it makes me want to bite somebody hard. Plot:

Aang versus Pac-man Ella and I took advantage of yesterday’s nationwide lull in Christmas commotion due to Pacquiao’s fight. While it seemed the whole world was fixated about two grown men having fisticuffs, we gloried in the almost empty malls, and the clear streets. With our combined powers, we have completed everything in our to-buy and to-do list. We even got home by 4 p.m. giving me enough time to finally finish the last 4 episodes of The Avatar (Go Aaang!) I didn’t even know Pacquiao won until today. I guess that’s good. But I really do hope he’ll lose someday soon. You know, for his own good. Too many wins might make a champion a loser, if you catch my drift. Geez. Something is really wrong with me. I’m rooting for a cartoon character, and couldn’t care less about a real, live champion of the people (daw). On the same vein though, Aang will never be corrupted, because he freakin’ doesn’t exist. Pacquiao is human, rendering him corruptible. Do I need to flip a coin? (Stay away fr

Treat your audiences as if they have never read romance novels before. Don’t shy away from gooey clichés such as “You are my life now.” They became clichés because people liked them. Suck the money out of it; bleed it dry. Make your primary character as physically flawless as possible. Then put a lot of angst into him to make him adorably flawed. Make his bad side as pretty as possible. Speaking of adorably flawed, counteract angst with Claire de Lune. Debussy is like, the original rebel emo… Choose a passive-aggressive heroine. One as confused as a headless chicken. Make her a damsel-in-distress but make her hate it --- and voila! You transcended a stereotype already. Sex is out. Sexual tension is in. Make them wanna, but don’t let them do it for a long, long, long, long time. Make sex dangerous for both of them. Learn from Buffy and Angel (LOSE YOUR SOUL). Learn from Buffy and Spike (LOSE YOUR BAD). Learn from Buffy and Freddie Prinze Jr. (LOSE YOUR CAREER) Defy vampire lore. But not

So you know about my fascination with James McAvoy (gads, who doesn't?). And how, after 10 years, I still sometimes wish Ryan Agoncillo met me first. Or whenever I see a Friends re-run, I find myself thinking I wouldn't mind a Ross in my life. And since we're talking imaginary here, throw in Harry Dresden to that mix. Well, I can add somebody new to that list today. I want a Jim Clancy all to myself. Jim who, you say? Well, blame it on OD-ing on Season 4 of the Ghost Whisperer. Jim Clancy is Melinda Gordon's husband on the show. For some twisted reason, I like Jennifer Love Hewitt. And I love the idea of Jim Clancy (played by David Conrad). The handsome, strong, stable husband who supports his wife even if most people think she's cuckoo. My sister did comment that Jim Clancy is a little too wussy for her. Well, of course, FOR HER, stable isn't a necessary characteristic of "The One." They will bore each other to death. I, on the other hand, am in cons

I am not a big fan of bazaars. Not usually. I think it's just a glorified tiangge where sellers try to convince you that you are getting stuff for less the price. Which is usually untrue. But not always. When Ella got complimentary tickets to the Noel discovery bazaar @ the World Trade Center, stars lit up her eyes. Seriously. And I discovered that excitement could really be that contagious because I somehow forgot how unpleasant shopping could be when you're being jostled by a gajillion people to look at stuff you could see in Greenhills anyway. But I have to admit that there were a couple of good finds. Bracelets, blouses, jackets, cool beaded bookmarks. We completed 2/3 of our joint Christmas list and we only spent Php 1,575 for everything. I mean, that's some serious savings. And serious savings is what I have planned for this Christmas. Unfortunately, I cannot go wild with Christmas gifts this year because of financial constraints. I think I'll go for the thoughtfu

What's the one movie you watched as a child that has utterly fascinated you in a horrific way? . I believe we all have one. That movie adults will mostly think campy or ridiculous but our impressionable minds totally wrapped itself around it. And it's usually gory and bloody and we can't help but have nightmares about it. Admit it, most of the twenty-something generation today were at least once terrified by one of the numerous Shake, Rattle and Roll or Stephen King's horror flicks (remember the one with the hundred cats???). . Of course when we watch it now, that terrifiying movie would just be inane. But then still... once in a while, you have to pry your fingers from the armrest where your hands unconsciously gripped it. And then push your butt backward away from the edge of the seat. Now whyever did you do that? Huh. . Well, for me, one of those unforgettable bad movies include Tremors. Remember this? The one where people get stuck in a valley where there were humo

When I was a kid, I wanted to do a lot of things when I grow up. I really believed I’ll have the coolest job in the world because I’ll make it so. Hay. Kids. Everything was possible. At one point or another, I wanted to be a: 1. Nun – because my Mummy said I was conceived after two barren years she promised the Virgin Mary she’ll do her best to convince her child to have a religious vocation 2. Housemaid – when I was younger, I liked housework. It made me feel grown-up. Now, house work is in the same line as tooth extraction and assisting in a circumcision 3. Doctor – I wanted to cure heartache because I seriously thought that was what causes heart attacks (I may be on to something there though) 4. Lawyer – I wanted to look tough and talk tough 5. Actress – I practiced receiving the Oscars and the Emmys in the bathroom. I still do. 6. Professional ice Skater – I wanted to be famous and skate with the Stars on Ice team 7. Dolphin Trainer – is this the coolest job or what? You get to sp

Maybe the Fates are trying to screw me. For some reason, my sister wants to see Twilight. During opening weekend. And the only thing I can ask her is "Why?!#%!" No hyped-up movie aside from the Lord of the Rings is worth seeing on an opening weekend. And even then we decided to watch LOTR3 on a weekday. So what is so special about Twilight that we have to watch it with the rest of the mindless hordes? It's bad enough that I forced myself to read the books so when some adoring Edward Cullen fan spitefully challenges my opinions by asking :"But have you read the book?" I can look him / her squarely in the eye and answer, "Yes, all 4 books, because I kept hoping it'll get better, or something must be there to hook so many people. But it started from dismal to appalling and I suffered the most tortorous hours of my life." Never let it be said I didn't give it more than a fighting chance. But now she's asking me to watch a pasty-faced Cedric Dig

No, the world was never fair. We grew up happy keeping to ourselves, ribbons untangling in our hair. Our world was complete We were all we need What there was, we took, we shared. Then the world shook and broke down. We searched, we wailed, We ran away, we sought and Listened hard but hope echoed no sound. We were angry and we cried, Asked more questions than There were answers to be found. Now the world is trying to tell us we're not special. We have become the average Part of the faceless mass the hopeless, the insignifant, the nominal. Little sister, let them try. But the world cannot take this away: How we laughed, how we played Bright like fireflies or the sun's warm ray How we loved and how we lost How we carried on at whatever cost. How we keep believing still The wounds we have will someday heal. Yes, I know we're back at the start Painful and humbling to our once proud hearts But ordinary, not special --- that's not us Even if we're now less witty or not so

\When was the last time you bought shoes that cost Php 6,000? I really need to know because I need to know if I am the one who’s insane. My best pal in the office is obsessed with brands. When I left him in his cubicle, he was browsing through the Macy’s on-line catalogue looking for shoes. The one he wants will cost him between 6-7K. Given, he’s only shopping online because he’s got a friend in the US who’ll be sending or bringing the stuff home for him, so that’s saving on the shipping cost. Yet still. Six thousand friggin’ pesos. And looking at the shoes, it isn’t so extra-ordinary. Looks like Rusty Lopez, except the tag will Say Kenneth Cole. It’s not like he doesn’t have tons of Kenneth Coles and Lacoste shoes. Add to the fact that men’s shoes rarely change designs. If he was a girl, with styles and colors to choose from, I may (stretching it, but I may) understand. I may have also overheard him wanting to buy a Diesel belt worth 2k. So you see, it’s a disease. Some would say it’s

Book in Hand: The Thirteenth Tale Song in Mind: Sama ko, sama ko diyan, doobi doobi doobi yeah... (blasted bus radios) There are days when I feel so exhausted and looking to the future brings no comfort because I still have many hurdles in sight (think Frodo when he crested the last mountain and he caught sight of Mordor. So near yet so far…). Days like these, nothing beats a complete surrender to another reality. These are the days I watch a movie totally alone. I LIKE watching movies by my lonesome. I am left to my own thoughts. I don’t have to explain the plot to anyone. I don’t have to pretend to laugh even if I don’t think it’s funny, I won’t have to hide my cringe if it gets too sappy. The possible pervs don’t scare me. I can always grab their patootie and yank it off if it gets too near me. And I always have a bottle of mineral water which I can bonk at someone in case they are not within arms reach, but within sight and sound. Anyhow, it has only happened to me once, and I thre

heart Psych. . Just finished watching all of Season I and II. I can't wait to see the rest of Season III. I don't feel this a lot when it comes to TV shows. You know, that I-can't-wait-for-the-next-episode feeling. When I get it though, I relish it. More if it's as laugh out loud funny as this show is. . Hurray for Shawn and Gus!

You can almost smell Christmas! And so, I can also feel it coming back again. I’m getting sick a lot which probably means I’m stressed a lot which probably means I’m rounding out on the nth phase of my depression. I’m not pretending anymore that I don’t have it. Nor can I pretend I can shake it off for life. It comes and it goes, depending on what I’m going through with my life. Christmas was almost lethal for me last year, remember? 2 weeks in the hospital diagnosed for having illnesses ranging from the pedestrian to the esoteric (read: allergies to herpes) ((Oh, they were both revoked by my doctors by the way. They had to settle with unidentified immunity disorder). Geez. What would this Christmas bring, I wonder? AIDS? Cancer? Forgive me, I can only jest about it now. I wouldn’t be this chirpy in a couple more days so I might as well pour it all out. Ho. Ho. Ho. There, that's about it. Christmas sucks without them.

If we’re going to talk about fantasy boyfriends based on book characters, I have my own thing. I love Harry Dresden. Working as the only wizard in the Chicago phonebook gets him the oddest and dirtiest jobs like hunting down vampires and cleaning up after faeries and chasing ghouls. But he does what he thinks is right even if it means he’ll get hurt. Sure, to some that’s idiocy, but on him, it’s almost noble. He gets scared. Terrified, most of the times. But he keeps his priorities intact. And if everything else fails, he still saves the girl (or vampire or werewolf) even if it meant dying in the effort. He feels lonely. He seeks comfort, but knows it will always avoid him. He knows he will die alone, but carries on nevertheless. He cracks me up. It doesn’t matter if he’s being hounded by killer zombies, he can still find the funny things to keep himself sane. Beats shouting “Ludicrus!” He’s wise. Not all of the time, yes. But he’s got a deeper sense of humanity, our desires and our

After suffering from a dearth of good fun movies the last three months, it seems the Universe is going to make up for it this November. Here’s my list of movies to watch out for: Inkheart Why? Because Paul Bettany is in it. So even if the annoying Brendan Fraser also stars in it, I shall brave the insanity and sally forth for Paul. I really like him that MUCH. Besides, Andy Serkis (Gollum in LOTR) is in it and it’s bound to be interesting to see him act without the corrupted hobbit suit. 17Again Matthew Perry has made movies, which has all miserably flopped. Zac Efron on the other hand could so much as burp on film, and it’ll sell like hot pancakes. Let’s see who will reign supreme for this movie, eh? Perry is a 37-year-old drone who gets a chance to live his life again by being magically zapped back to 17 years old. Probably stolen from 13 going on 30 (that Jennifer Garner sweetheart movie?). Efron plays his younger self, looking all buffed and purty. I Heart Efron. And back off my

If we’re going to talk about fantasy boyfriends based on book characters, I have my own thing. I love Harry Dresden. Working as the only wizard in the Chicago phonebook gets him the oddest and dirtiest jobs like hunting down vampires and cleaning up after faeries and chasing ghouls. But he does what he thinks is right even if it means he’ll get hurt. Sure, to some that’s idiocy, but on him, it’s almost noble. He gets scared. Terrified, most of the times. But he keeps his priorities intact. And if everything else fails, he still saves the girl (or vampire or werewolf) even if it meant dying in the effort. He feels lonely. He seeks comfort, but knows it will always avoid him. He knows he will die alone, but carries on nevertheless. He cracks me up. It doesn’t matter if he’s being hounded by killer zombies, he can still find the funny things to keep himself sane. Beats shouting “Ludicrus!” He’s wise. Not all of the time, yes. But he’s got a deeper sense of humanity, our desires and our mo

Let go. Don’t let go. Love. Forget. Have you been here? At the crossroads of a love that is either possible or impossible and you are caught between choosing to let go or hold on; terrified you’ll break your heart, but even more frightened of missing out on something real this time around. I’m sure I’ll break my heart. Who could love someone so… pedestrian? I do not have that delicacy men find so attractive in their women. Nor am I feisty enough to awe boys into adoration. I am not rich and cultured. I do not exude an aura which screams “better-than-you.” I do not have the prescribed curves. I cannot be literally swept off my feet unless I plan to work in cohort with an orthopedic --- imagine the men who will try only to break their backs. I am odd, awkward, silly, alternating between genius and idiot, ingénue and naïve. Who would want such a roller coaster ride? It could be so easy to just walk away, if only I can shake off my worries about regretting. What if all it takes is a little

First, I stepped on dog poop and fouled up the vehicle we were riding to Laguna. I hate poop. Much less stepping on it. Then, I was eating lunch, slurping my sinigang na baboy happily when my spoon revealed I was about to slurp on a small caterpillar. Between images of the poop on my shoes and that dead cattypillar, my appetite went kaput. So I didn't eat enough and suffered hypoglycemia. My hands went clammy, my ears went ringing, and my head hurt through out the afternoon. Then my sister called because tomorrow is the due date of our electric bill, and i neglected to leave my ATM card so they could withdraw the money. While I was congratulating myself on this supreme idiocy, I bit down into dinner's pork chop and nearly lost a tooth because it was rock hard. I could throw it to the dogs and instead of touching it, they'll sue me for manslaughter. That kind of day. Yippee kind of day. Days which tells you, tomorrow can only get better.

I frankly think America needs the change. I'm not saying Obama's the next superhero, but I do think he will do as much good as anyone who's been the underdog too long. Let's see what he can do.

I stumbled upon a copy of Kushiel's Dart written by Jacqueline Carey. I know Mariel loves the books; I know the copy she found during the September book fair was prized and cherished. I just didn't get why. I think it's because the first time I saw the book in National, I chanced upon a page which described weird kind of ... adventures. As in S&M stuff which I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. But Mariel's interest reigned in my distrust. There must be something to it if my girl friend likes it. So I read through the first of the series.... and was genuinely surprised that it wasn't as ewwww-y as I first thought. . Phedre is a real person, and her adventures weren't just about... uhm... worshipping Namaah...(read the book to find out what that means). It's about politics, and deceit and love as well and discussed in a tasteful manner. It isn't anything like the love scenes you read in romance novels, at ALL. I was completely rooting for Joscel

I have a deep love for doors and doorways --- They seem to me a promise Of people who Fate may yet bring; Of news that may bestow bliss; Of things that cause hearts to sing. And one of them, yet unknown, Will bring my Love to me Bright, beautiful and wholly strong A fit, a match, a key. I search for doors and doorways Trusting the day will come When it is suddenly your face I can finally look upon. - liv

Call me utterly sappy, but for some reason, I get heart burn everytime I hear the song "After All" by Peter Cetera. And the line which gives me butterflies in my stomach the most? "And after all these stops and starts, We keep coming back to these two hearts, two angels who've been rescued from the fall..." I really have no idea why. But it spoke to me when I was a teenager, and it still speaks to me now. It's not like I can relate it to anything in my life. But there it is. Of course I do have other tummy-tingling songs which are more updated, i.e. Breathe In, Breathe Out, but this one gets me all the time. :) Arrest me, I have no alibi.

. Outside the lights are fading Into crisp October nights Where the cold is almost biting Like air from mountain heights. Inside the candles flicker Reminding me of you How much you loved the softer glow, its warmer, gentler hue. Soon I will be lighting candles Upon your silent graves Lay flowers tied in bundles Grief assaulting me in waves. They said the years will cure me Of the sorrow and despair They expect I move on swiftly But I hardly think thats fair. How can a child forget so soon The hands that soothed pain? The love that shone ever bright A beacon through the rain? This child leaned on majestic rocks Dependable and strong Now all she’s got are sticks and stones To divine what’s right from wrong. ... No, forgetting is a sin and I Have plans to never fall I’ll wait even if it means I’ll hurt and cry Until the day I hear you call.

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied Who told me time would ease me of my pain! I miss him in the weeping of the rain; I want him at the shrinking of the tide; The old snows melt from every mountain-side, And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane; But last year's bitter loving must remain Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide. There are a hundred places where I fear To go - so with his memory they brim. And entering with relief some quiet place Where never fell his foot or shone his face I say, 'There is no memory of him here!' And so stand stricken, so remembering him. -Edna St Vincent Millay (1892 -1950)

I’m sorry I haven’t been blogging as regularly as before. I have been… pre-occupied with something. But much better now after spending a little time with girlfriends who always say things as it is. What happened was I have a friend who, out-of-the-blue snuck kisses on my cheek. A couple of times. Maybe it wasn’t the kiss that got me confused; it’s who was giving it. I wasn’t sure how to act. So the manang in me did, said, showed nothing. Maybe that was a mistake. Maybe I should’ve whined, slapped him or jibed about it. But my instinct had always been “shut up and think” when it comes to unfamiliar territory so my neurons were too busy processing data and failed to commandeer any show of immediate distinctive and definitive response. I think any convent-school-raised girl will have the same stupefaction I’ve had because I have never really had guy friends growing up and those I became close with are far in-between and few. And some of them are gay. So, as for standards for how a girl an

Just got back from Bicol province yesterday where I spent one week engaging in at least 1 of the 3 abovementioned things. Friday We flew to Legazpi and since some of my companions have never seen the city, we hired a van to tour us around. The works, nothing I haven’t seen before. Pero iba pala talaga pag may kasamang baguhan kasi parang nagiging exciting ulit. Visited Cagsawa Ruins, a couple of churches, then passed by CWC on the way to Naga where we were staying for the next 3 nights. Saturday Preparations for Damae’s wedding. Two words: Super stressful. Ganun pala ikasal? Nakakabaliw. And to think hindi pa ako member of the family or the bride. Damae, after one of her countless pre-church pictorials said, “Kakapagod maging bride.” I was just a damn ssecondary sponsor and emcee, but I agree. Probably because OCD and Passive-Aggressive yung organizer niya.. Organizers are supposed to handle stress well. And if you keep prodding your people to Smile!, make damn sure you smile as well.