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Friday, April 27, 2007 |
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| Subterranean Toge |
 Nestled below the Condo (West of Ayala) Basement is a quaint, out-of-place, hobbit-dwelling mini resto dubbed TOGE. It's a suprisingly trendy, well lit place hidden beneath the hurly burly of Makati's usual dining scene. Almost minimal in design yet flaring in color, the place secretly boasts (like its possible) of its range of meals with the mandatory TOGE side dish. Nyahaha. Until then I didn't know what Toge was till that fateful night.
Nikki, Bobet and Kaye swung by to see me and mike then ended up having dinner at this place.
Sick.Sadistic.Shallow. Deconstructing the World before bedtime with Toge in my tummy. Labels: food, friends |
posted by LetsGetSoakingWet @ 5:51 PM  |
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| Back at Ground 0 |
 Countless college weekend nights culminated in a kukabura frenzy for us bimbos. All the sneaking out, passing out, and making out all came rushing back as we pay homage to the place that made college beareably breathable.
I miss the usual suspects. Mitch, Jefrox, Keith, Freya. Sigh. That was the best. Ground Zero last december was nothing short of a reunion. Still there were the splash of familiar faces that was too much of a coincidence to be all there. Holidays vacations should always be spent this way.
Sick.Sadistic.Shallow. Deconstructing the World before bedtime.Labels: party |
| posted by LetsGetSoakingWet @ 2:38 PM |
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Saturday, April 14, 2007 |
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| BACKTRACKING: December 30, 2006: Driving again |
After more than a year of being in the passenger's seat, I finally got myself back behind the wheels when I came home for the Holidays and like clockwork, every shift and gear just came trickling out ala BORNE IDENTITY.
YES my non-driving friends, there is a clear and undeniably liberating feeling when you get to rev up a big Prado (oooh sounds like a male Prada) or any car for that matter to wherever destination your heart desires. So it's back to memory lane, and its finally comforting to know where the bottleneck streets, easier routes, the familiar short cuts to my hometown is, as opposed to Makati's confusing one-way systems. There is no place like home (because the beach is just 15 mins away).
Sick.Sadistic.Shallow. Deconstructing the World before bedtime.Labels: driving, vacation |
| posted by LetsGetSoakingWet @ 2:07 PM |
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Tuesday, April 10, 2007 |
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| Don't Cry for Me Argentina |
There is nothing worst than a wave of fever to break a man's spirit.
I may have had survived emotional catastrophes, shunned off personal traumas, overdosed on bitter pills of pride and resurrected from relational deaths, but nothing beats me into a bloody, senseless pulp than that of a fever.
I admit that my threshold to physical pain is nothing short of a butterfly wing, but this throbbing, the heat, the helplessness, the chills, the sweating, the untraceable ache leave me blubbering litanies to redo my karma.
All reasons fall apart and one starts to fall into a state of paranoia. For one, I am furiously racking my brain for some elaborate cause for this physiological malfunction.
1. Is it due to that funeral wake outside the apartment that I just scoff and passby everyday, sniding irreverent comments about how the "taong bayan" desecrate the sincerity of the ritual of paying last respects by erecting an altar of incessant gambling through Bingo and Saklaan that lasts wee hours in the morning? Is the ghost of the dead mad because I'm not betting?
2. Have I finally sparked irrevocable anger from a moderm urban "mangkukulam" by telling her I don't need a Citibank Credit card and later thought about her hideous avocado pedicure as que horreur?
3. Was the old lady asking for help to get back to Nueva Ecija by augmenting her fare truly was a fairy that placed a curse on anyone who shunned her with excruciating fever?
4. Was the paracetamol that I took massed-produced in China, in which my pirated medication only inhibits a small about of prostaglandin, thus taking half the time of easing my pain while doubling the mechanisms of toxicity in my liver?
In my alternate universe, I would have gladly made a trade off with the causative agents of this fever. I will go into an argumentative debate with whatever bacteria - British Parliamentary Format, plead to whoever INFECTION Prime Minister with repartees so witty I will cause the germs to drool in boredom or lysis - whichever comes first.
But since reality is as absolute as it is cruel, there is no chance of such a thing ever happening.
My head continues to throb. If only I can sweep the heat away in diuretic tears. But then crying would be much of an effort, and at this state, tiring.
I can't wait to be back to my mean and hurtful sturdy self.
Sick.Sadistic.Shallow. Deconstructing the World before bedtime.Labels: rantings, sick |
| posted by LetsGetSoakingWet @ 1:14 PM |
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Saturday, April 07, 2007 |
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| BACKTRACKING: December 28, 2006: Kiss the Girl |
 There are people born to greatness while some are made to do great things. Anyone who have been lucky enough to have met Kuya Ali and Ate Chepeng can stand witness to that undeniably indelible after taste they leave behind, an impression deeper than the Marianas Trench.
 Congratulations and God Speed Missionaries in Jakarta Indonesia!
Sick.Sadistic.Shallow. Deconstructing the World before bedtime with restored faith in humanity.
Labels: friends, reunion, wedding |
| posted by LetsGetSoakingWet @ 4:10 PM |
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Name: LetsGetSoakingWet
