Liv in a Life Well-Lived

I don't know what. But something's wrong in this picture and I can't place it. I'm serious. Something doesn't feel right. Can you help me figure out what it is?

Borgy Manotoc guested in yesterday's Forbidden Questions Game during Good Times in 899 Magic. As per usual, celebrity trivia ran like wild paper airplanes all over the place. One of the questions that created a big bang (hehe, pun on the bun) was who were three of the more famous women he'd slept with in the past. He answered: 1) Lana Asanin - I can only catch fleeting memories of this bombshell who was quite popular back in the early 90s. Can't get a lock down on her face though. 2) Victoria London - Another "almost-remember-her" girl. and 3) Vina Morales Now, here's where the controversy starts. In today's Phil. Star, there's an article there that says Vina is denying she ever had any kind of relations with Borgy. She's asking Borgy to clear up her name and she's acting the part of the hurt damsel-in-distress. I don't get it. Who's lying here? Here are my theories: 1) Borgy might be shtoopid enough to think Vina would never know he sa...

I wonder what's wrong with me. I keep waking up early this week. Oh yeah, I remember now. I was forced to wake up early two days in a row last week. First, for the site visit in Pampanga, and Second, the Saturday exposure. The house is still quiet. Yet again. I think everybody's finding it hard to wake up early because it's so cold in the mornings now. Sarap nga naman matulog. Pero ito, ang mga weirdong tulad ko, tsaka naman nagigising ng maaga. Buti na lang, maaga ang Good Times with Mo. I keep laughing out loud. I'm afraid my Dad'll wake up hearing me laughing to myself. Can't help it. They're so gosh darn it funny. Thank God for small blessings, no matter how irreverent. :) Mojo Jojo, Mohan and Andy9 (pic from shale) Shux, Mojo kinda deserves his own cute boy alert... :)

(fooled a bit with the format, this is not a poem) I saw a book with the same title sometime ago, and it's the most apt title I've got to describe what I'm doing right now. I am eating mangoes very early in the morning wearing nothing but a towel. Technically, I'm not naked. I just got out from the shower and nobody in the house is awake yet. The house has this kind of stillness that's a bit magical because it seems to be promising many wonderful things for the next 24 hours. Somebody saintly bought fresh ripe mangoes yesterday and they were as sweet as heaven. I had a craving for it first thing this morning. While taking a bath, I knew I just had to have it immediately --- ergo, my present state. I just opened a window and a shock of green greeted me as I surveyed the fields surrounding our house. Now, the mango's skin is so flawlessly yellow. My towel is so garishly red. My human skin is pink in places I scrubbed too hard on. Oh my, I'm going to have a col...

How many days til Christmas? The months just plain swooshed by us, didn't it? It hardly registered that today is the second to the last month of the year. And today is the 27th out of 30 days in that month. Cum Friday, we will hit the good old merry season of December. I can't afford gifts this year. I've tried to make my budget fit, but I'm simply out of it. I gave most of my bonus for the house. With just me working, most of my income this month would have to be directed to mundane things such as electric bills and telephone bills and heckling freaking lots of kinds of other bills. It's going to be a challenge to spend Christmas as poor as a mouse, but statistics say people survive. So I probably will too. I don't know if this is the primary reason why I don't want it to be December yet. November isn't a bad month, y'know? We celebrate Samhain this month. We celebrate Saints this month. And more than anything else, we spend our lives waiting within...

Book in Hand: World Mythology Minipedia Song in Mind: Return to Innocence HEART IN THE SONG There's a theory that we are only attracted to things that reflect our current state of mind or emotions. I believe that's how people find their favorite art object, book or song. So when I say my favorite book of all time is still Lois Lowry's The Giver, I wonder what that says? When my favorite artist remains to be Monet, I wonder what that says? And when the tune to Return to Innocence keeps playing in my head the past few days, what does that make me? Two weks ago, I bought myself an MP3 player and went crazy downloading music. The advent of Limewire has finally reached th far-away shores of my consciousness. I know it's barely legal, but I don't have the resources to buy all the CDs I like. The moment I understood the concept of file sharing, I downloaded my old mantra-esque songs. Ergo, I'm downloading Snow on the Sahara by Anggun as we speak. The deliciousness of ...

I watch my mother sometimes, and she doesn't know that I do. My mother hobbles gently when she walks, having lost confidence in the solidity of ground. Her left eye is blinded and she cannot distinguish depth anymore. She describes it as seeing the world as a flat dimension where shapes have lost their definition. So when she walks, she sends her feet as sentinels to feel out her next step. She wears dark eyeglasss to hide her whited-out left iris, and that adds to her difficulty in seeing with her remaining good eye. My mother, she hunches when seated. The effort of drawing her body straight is too exhausting for her. During vain moments, she would tuck in her stomach and sqaure her shoulders up. But that doesn't last for very long. Her bravado diminishes as aches attack her abdomen. The pain shoots and licks at her body, whipping her back to her soft, hunched figure and if available, both elbows resting heavily on the table top. My mother, she's missing one breast. After ...

What irks me the most are people who give themselves too much importance. Today, I met a really annoying guy. He comes into the office announcing himself to be Mark Ignacio and that he's got a meeting with my supervisor. I guess his entrance and manner of speaking can still be attributed to a lesser irritating factor --- stupidity, which I could still have withstood. I was asked to sit in the meeting since this guy's from the media. He's from RJTV --- the echoes of which barely reverberates in anybody's mind. All I can remember is a kooky old-looking fella talking about music and his love affair with various guitars. He then introduces himself as the owner of a production suit named Epitome Productions (again, silent echoes in the room announces that it does not register to anyone at all) and he flashes out his cheap calling card (too many pink fonts there for a normal person's taste). He goes on to say that they are conceptualizing a program they plan to call Pinoy...