tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74594668971696137152024-03-06T08:32:04.959+08:00Sunsets in January*Saffron Days. Life in trance.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger70125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-67834386204874511802011-09-02T15:39:00.002+08:002011-09-02T15:43:25.594+08:00The start of all ends (A short)She stares infront of her computer. She seem not to notice the mosquito she hit with a Salinger book earlier pixellating in red and green. Somewhere in between the heaps of paper, the ivy league hottie becomes a corporate whore.
<br />
<br />Her slanting, feminine, convent-school handwriting sublimed by the Cathechism of the Italian/Vatican faith were buried under stress, under the earth and dirt and short bond papers. It was ridiculous to exhume it. It was buried until the paper have become soft and folded like the cloth, and useless. Her hands had tapped and something came out in the small white screen. She became amused and delighted and has forgotten her passionate love affair with her handwritings.
<br />
<br />Home is 20,000 miles away. But for now, the red, satin-lined sofa 2 meters behind her qualified as home. Home is not where her heart is. There is a damp smell of freshly brewed Cafe Americano roaming the room. Her kidneys smelled it too. It somehow mixed with her blood.
<br />
<br />When did it start, she doesn't know. One thing led to another. One minute she was freshly baked out into the real world then the next thing she knew she became a very young associate. It was a brisk winding up and closing shop.
<br />
<br />It was already 5AM. She had realized that before deciding on a quick nap. She began having memories that she doesn't have any right to remember. The boy he had seen last week in an Australian coffee shop, was he the one? The one with a fahion victim for a girlfriend? She felt like a vine snaking up a lamp post. Touching here. There. All over. And she was awoken by a light tap over her shoulders.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Coffee, Ma'am?</span> she asks.
<br />
<br />And the cycle goes on.
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<br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-24360508908338132172011-08-19T14:42:00.004+08:002011-08-19T17:19:50.247+08:0025.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDcdSHjzmKKRqMYePlGPdfK3VyLma0toQitbaHMq-IDsmjwV9DZdx4Nn20LG8yseAWVr3zMErBY5xU-QnN1F27gSASinWj8z0jHd2cOyenTDw7vO5mdQt-rEDSqylErwgEtO9b96CnEg/s1600/happybirthdayquelleuv7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 317px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDcdSHjzmKKRqMYePlGPdfK3VyLma0toQitbaHMq-IDsmjwV9DZdx4Nn20LG8yseAWVr3zMErBY5xU-QnN1F27gSASinWj8z0jHd2cOyenTDw7vO5mdQt-rEDSqylErwgEtO9b96CnEg/s320/happybirthdayquelleuv7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642455375570272354" /></a>
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<br />I received an email from FutureMe.org three days ago on my birthday. Futureme.org is a website where you write an email to yourself be sent to your email address at anytime of your preference in the future. I wrote mine back in 2006 and my twenty year-old self had this to say:
<br />
<br /><blockquote>Dear FutureMe,
<br />
<br />you should have a job by now and
<br />lost a lot of weight.
<br />
<br />if not, oh well
<br />we'll try again in 4 years.</blockquote>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Even then I was funny. </span>So I had managed to get one thing done, and you know which one it is. :)
<br />
<br />Today, I decided to write back to my twenty year-old self. I also decided to put it up on this blog because it has been gathering dust and cobwebs for three years now. There is somebody at the office playing a soft, familiar tune on the guitar, which makes this letter I am about to write more mushy than it should be.
<br />
<br />*clears throat*
<br />
<br /><blockquote>Dear PastMe,
<br />
<br />I hope you have the time, because this is going to be a long one. Hmmm... let's see...
<br />
<br />I received your letter three days ago, precisely on our 25th birthday. I am happy to report that yes, you have a paying job! Yey! Actually, you have had 3 in the past five years. First, fresh out of College, you became an English teacher to a bunch of bratty young Koreans. Some turned out to be really nice young adults, took college abroad (passing SATs you helped them review for), and successfully are able to speak and write pretty good English. You will have a 19 year-old student named Soy, and your proudest achievement will be when she finally beats you at Texas Hold'em Poker (which she learned from you).
<br />
<br />Then, you had a short stint at a Call Center company. Had met a lot of interesting people and decided you would never go to the United States to work. People there seems to be more stressed than anybody else you have spoken with. And it was also around this time that it became clearer: You wanted to be a lawyer. Flashback to the time when your highschool Economics teacher told you <span style="font-style:italic;">"Alam mo, ma-boka ka. Bagay kang maging abugada." </span> You will not be able to remember his name, but you will forever remember how you felt when you silently muttered <span style="font-style:italic;">Atty. Erwilyn Lei Solito</span> under your breath. Kind of has a nice ring to it, so you tossed your Nursing diploma and headed off to Law School. You also decided to support yourself financially through it, vowed to never ask from your parents to pay for tuition. You somehow saw yourself through that (on some really tight days, they offered helped and you gladly accepted it). Something you should be very proud of. You might slack off on some days, but your heart remained in place.
<br />
<br />Lastly, you became a staff for a Nursing review center. After a year, the bosses entrusted you with management. Ah. You will <span style="font-style:italic;">never </span>forget this part of your life. I will advise you to prepare your heart for a multitude of reasons. But mostly because you will grow in so many ways while you're on this job. At this point in your life, a lot of people will disappoint you, but a lot will touch your heart as well. You will learn that friendship does not equal trust and that no matter how much you cry, it does not make it hurt any less. You will meet a lot of wonderful, wonderful people. Some friends will get married, some will have babies ahead of the wedding bells, and some will still be as crazy as you despite being "adults". You will never be more drunk in your life than this time. Trust me, you'll need a lot of alcohol to get by. And friends, more importantly. Not a lot, just a few you can talk to and be crazy with.
<br />
<br />You'll attend a couple of concerts, see the Azkals beat Sri Lanka 4-0 live (oh yes, you'll rekindle you football addiction), see a bunch of NBA players, travel a lot, get high and drunk some more, cry the most, lose friends, gain more, get a driver's license (finally), get addicted with Twitter, Facebook and your Blackberry, fall in love, get heartbroken, see your bank account swell then reduce, and be smiling most of the time even though there's a plethora of problems to deal with.
<br />
<br />I wish I could tell you how cool you turned out to be. But you're still the same geeky, loud-mouthed, principled girl after 5 long years. Just maybe tougher. Yeah, I would say definitely tougher. The times have brought out the best and the worst in you. It will be a long, arduous journey for you. Prayer will be your only weapon. You'll lose faith on some days, but you always found your way back. Always.
<br />
<br />You turned out okay. Despite not losing a lot of weight. You are enjoying life and everything in between! Do not fret! Your 25th birthday will be uneventful, except that it rained hail that day. Pretty cool, huh?
<br />
<br />So yeah, life is just as it should be for you. You will probably write yourself in the future again, because that's what you do. You always hope for the best. You may not be completely satisfied with what you have right now, at least you're happy.
<br />
<br />Love,
<br />Future Me</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-19110662375009999392009-01-12T15:09:00.003+08:002009-01-12T15:15:32.162+08:00I never wanted this.Last night I dreamt I got married in a big, white, traditional wedding. I woke up feeling afraid not because it was a horrendous dream, but because I looked so damn happy.<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-9293489739057251712008-12-22T02:07:00.000+08:002008-12-22T05:01:22.115+08:00chopseuy**for some reason i can't stop looking. seriously. it has to stop. it's getting a bit annoying already. no details here//<br /><br />**i love the idea of tattoos. i was never good with changes so i like the idea of its permanence. i have been thinking of getting one on my wrist--something poetic or grand. the kind which i can tell a cool story about. but then i always hear stories about people thinking too much of what tatoo they'll gonna get and end up with idiotic stuffs inked on their bodies.<br /><br />**it is chilly once again in this part of the country. i don't know, but the cold does something on people. just a couple of days ago, after too much gin, something amoral happened. to say the least, i was just a spectator, thank god. i suddenly questioned people's morality and how casual can <span style="font-style:italic;">casual</span> get? i am trying my best here not to dive into details.<br /><br />**it is funny how other people tend to complicate the meaning of love. i know someone who likes this someone but this someone has someone but is very, very, very far away. the someone i know is sooo afraid to take a risk for the someone she likes (which i think kinda likes her as well) because of his someone. i know, it's complicated like that. but really, if we are not going to take risks for anything, we would live our lives always thinking 'what if'. but this is not me talking.<br /><br />**i am up at 12mn, because work got my body clock all messed up. i live in 4 different time zones, and talking about shifts is as painful as counting hours backwards all the time. Example:<br />Me: Do we have work on the 25th?<br />Officemate: None.<br />Me: Alrighty!<br />Officemate: Wait, are we talking Manila time or production time?<br />Me: *puzzled* I have a 12mn shift Mla time, so how is that?<br />Officemate: Oh you do have work.<br />Me: But isn't that considered as the 25th already?<br />Officemate: Yeah, but technically that is 24 production.<br />Me: I hate you.<br /><br />**lately, i have been paying bills for the house, shopping for food (in the market as well!), and giving money to anyone and everyone who needs them. i can't believe how grown up that sounded. i was particularly surprised at my selflessness. but i still have to learn how to budget my money.<br /><br />**how come i am sooo kilig with twilight? it's so stupid yet so kilig. i don't know why they already love each other beyond accounting after they sat next in biology class? or how they want to get married after one date? or how bella would want to give up everything after just one kiss? and somehow, i don't believe edward when he said "you have no idea how long i've waited for you'. seriously, 100 years and no woman? not even one? sige na nga!<br /><br />**i know i said i'm going to write every week, but internet has been down for almost a month we just got it running.<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-67776949888111513332008-11-08T15:19:00.002+08:002008-11-08T15:39:05.035+08:00stoopidwith regularization @ work coming up, i was asked to pen an appraisal for my self by my supervisor. i was staring blankly at the monitor and couldn't get to write anything for a full three minutes. i had her open up a sample appraisal from a newly regularized employee and that's the only time i had started writing.<br /><br />scary thing to happen, as i have always been a writer my whole life. i quickly messaged my friend and told her 'dude, i was asked to write something a while ago and my mind was totally blank! scary shit!' then she replied 'my friend, your job is keeping you stupid. read an effing book for crying out loud!'<br /><br />when did i ran out of things to say? or write? is the corporate world eating me alive?<br /><br />so now i vow to write at least once a week on this blog. because god knows i'm too lazy to do it more than that. so once is enough.<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="border: 0pt none ; vertical-align: middle;" /></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-22001001623258144452008-10-21T16:05:00.002+08:002008-10-21T16:08:43.039+08:00so 90s!OMG I want to go to the Michael Learns to Rock concert here in Baguio on the 21st of November! All Baguio peeps, text me, let's go! It's so jologs I know but I know all their songs! Ack!<br /><br />Lezzzz gooooo!<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-63213946694320531502008-09-23T18:55:00.003+08:002008-09-23T19:34:11.320+08:00wow, i can't drink anymorebecause my mother insisted i do a full work out while doing my stint at the hospital, i learned i have a fatty liver. so now my alcohol consumption for the last three weeks has been next to nothing. ryan, a very good friend, celebrated his birthday last saturday and when we went out for drinks, i ordered shirley temple. i was like 'damn, i'm now reduced to shirley fucking temple.'<br /><br />then, as sort of an epiphany, i remembered that shirley temples on this side of the world uses sodas in exchange of the ginger ale (in this case, sprite). and because they have also found out i have ulcers in my stomach, carbonated drinks were a no-no as well. i didn't dare finish the rest of my drink. now you know how sucky my life is.<br /><br />so, my advice, dear readers, is that never go on an executive check up if you still want the finer things in life. because if you do, you will be reduced to... well... drinking water for the rest of your life.<br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-39109808387044431692008-09-15T21:59:00.000+08:002008-09-15T18:45:18.441+08:00prayer works<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxKiDR-6uRzy44h-P-ggnsSb3DzL0oBL57DKMvnREg8dQet7RcXvoJLVegwrCvXa62xQ1if_EIlUrvHJjFhHNcfr7BCTOH_UObkMnF3lq3OW7C2XMcQTdf7wHZ6lFZlaERV2joUk6enw/s1600-h/11-09-08_1121.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxKiDR-6uRzy44h-P-ggnsSb3DzL0oBL57DKMvnREg8dQet7RcXvoJLVegwrCvXa62xQ1if_EIlUrvHJjFhHNcfr7BCTOH_UObkMnF3lq3OW7C2XMcQTdf7wHZ6lFZlaERV2joUk6enw/s320/11-09-08_1121.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245138113241519282" /></a><br />while i was confined in the hospital seeking treatment for my acute gastroenetritis, my mother suggested i get another pelvic ultrasound to check if the <a href="http://januarysunsets.blogspot.com/2008/04/tired-and-scared.html">cyst discovered in my left ovary</a> last january was still there.<br /><br />the sonogram proved the cyst was nowhere to be found. i guess hormone therapies and prayers do work.<br /><br />thank you, Lord.<br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-89208384665935442912008-09-12T20:20:00.000+08:002008-09-12T21:50:49.488+08:00weddings and KC concepcionwhen you get invited to weddings and baptisms often than debuts lately, you know it's all downhill from there. a college org mate got hitched last saturday and i almost wasn't able to attend simply because i forgot about it. the moment i remembered, there was no time to change my clothes and embarrassingly attended the formal/semi-formal ceremony wearing chuck taylors and wide legged jeans.<br /><br />my favorite part of any wedding is the part where the parents make their speeches. the father of the bride, on the brink of tears, was telling about the sign that convinced him that his first born was already ready to start a new life without them. he said in the months preceding the wedding, he unconsciously suddenly started waking up later than usual so this prompted the daughter to wake up early and prepare breakfast for the family. in one occasion, he happen to secretly watch her prepare the meal and just felt sad because he knew right then, by instinct alone, that her little baby girl was ready to have a family of her own. and true enough, in less than a month, the wedding was underway.<br /><br />makes me think what kind of story my father or mother would say on my wedding day. because statistically, the bride's parents' get to have the drama speech. have you been to a wedding wherein the groom's parents' cried because they were letting go of their son? i don't think so. most of the time if not all of the time, the father of the bride becomes emotional because generally, fathers couldn't handle the fact that their daughters have grown up.<br /><br />speaking of crying buckets of tears, i have watched KC concepcion and richard gutierrez's first movie together on the second day it showed (aug 29 i believe) and all i can say is WHY IS THAT WHEN KC CRIES HER WHOLE FUCKIN FACE GETS WET? her neck and hair even! somebody please tell the poor kid the difference between theater acting and movie acting. so much expression on her face, which didn't go well with the close-ups.<br /><br />the movie wasn't all that it was hyped to be. actually, that was just about it: a hype. my workmates and i were actually surprised to learn that only one SM cinema showed the movie, and on the second day there weren't anymore long queues. in fact, there wasn't any queue in the coming days! most probably, word got out that the movie wasn't as good as expected?<br /><br />seriously. the movie was so dragging and heavy. i wanted to kill the person behind the story and the script. and phillip salvador dancing at the end of the movie? what the fuck was that about? the only good thing about the movie: <span style="font-style:italic;">ang gwapo ni richard, putang-ina.<span style="font-weight:bold;"></span></span> that's all. i think a very special love top billed by john lloyd cruz and newcomer sarah geronimo was way better. and did better on the box office, i was told.<br /><br />KC should've just waited for a better script. i heard that she is doing another film under GMA Films this time, rumored to be directed and written by jose javier reyes? if this is another romance/drama movie, i better not see KC drowning in her own tears.<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-42346207880085848022008-08-21T18:27:00.008+08:002008-08-21T19:34:33.531+08:00casual tearsi found this somewhere off the internet while at work:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;">Arundhati was with a friend, and they were discussing the subject of dreams. "The only dream worth having," Roy explained, "is to dream that you will live while you’re alive and die only when you are dead." "What exactly does that mean?" asked the friend.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">So Roy wrote it down for her on a napkin:</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate was is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget.</span></blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="border: 0pt none ; vertical-align: middle;" /></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-75996925146126538842008-05-09T01:22:00.002+08:002008-05-09T01:27:45.458+08:00i cannot sleep'What do you want to be when you grow up?'<br /><br />Had you asked me this question 10 years ago, I would've answered to be a doctor or a lawyer.<br /><br />But right now, all I want is to be happy.<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-4580331735014715962008-04-24T16:34:00.002+08:002008-04-24T16:45:54.392+08:00Do you know who Mark Mejia is?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6oYdeTGI8S7EjqGxpYsIYFIKiwAE44ikcIC0iKr9fsuFIsNnsHRdH8PsFG1vAf8YV7jLoKc06xsffeAs2AOatp6-hsO2OTdcD6-mXwNsVVVB99aHVZ0p5p7Hvpear3hvx6l8_6nvIpQ/s1600-h/mejia.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6oYdeTGI8S7EjqGxpYsIYFIKiwAE44ikcIC0iKr9fsuFIsNnsHRdH8PsFG1vAf8YV7jLoKc06xsffeAs2AOatp6-hsO2OTdcD6-mXwNsVVVB99aHVZ0p5p7Hvpear3hvx6l8_6nvIpQ/s200/mejia.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192730123681083506" /></a>He was the one who beat current American Idol season favorite David Archuleta during CBS Star Search's Battle of the Champions five years ago. David was 12 and Mark was 10.<br /><br />Rumor has it that Mark is currently training for next year's American Idol, when he turns 16 since it's the minimum age requirement for the show.<br /><br />Follow Mark in his <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/markster06">YouTube account</a> as he sings infront of his computer, as if telling the whole world that he's ready to be the next big star. After he gets a make-over though. I kid, I kid. :)<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-24508386869600993252008-04-03T22:10:00.008+08:002008-04-09T00:06:46.381+08:00tired and scaredi remember one night we rushed her to the hospital because she said she couldn't breathe. i look at her while she is soundly asleep in a hospital stretcher, alone in the emergency room, and i feel empty. i secretly wanted to tell her it was her fault, quit being overly dramatic about it. i sit there while the nurse get her BP every 15 minutes. i count the seconds lazily passing by, tapping my hands against the cold metal bed only adorned by white linens. she looked pale. for three seconds it looked serious, but all i ever wanted at that moment was to go home and sleep. somehow, she didn't matter. i went outside the hospital and sat alone on a concrete chair. i remember feeling the crisp cold february baguio weather, but i do not remember asking if she felt better. when the doctor finally told she can go home, i felt nothing still.<br /><br />i remember one afternoon, the doctor told me i had a cyst in my left ovary and that there is a possibility of not being able to bear a little rascal. i distinctly recall looking at my ultrasound, a small white circular thing appeared and my sister beside me looked so very worried. but i didn't flinch. i asked her when can i get my period again. she said we'll try to normalize it. i said okay and left like nothing has happened. <br /><br />i remember this friend who i had a falling out with. a few months ago, i was desperate in trying to win her friendship back. but now, i couldn't care less. a window of opportunity was opened a few days ago and i didn't even bother peeking at it. i remember how much i miss her and how sorry i was for what happened. but that's just it. a memory. i look at the pictures i have of her and i do not feel anything. i didn't bother to take them down. but they all look like there's an extra person i once knew.<br /><br />with all of these, i suddenly felt scared. a few days ago while riding in a taxi, i asked myself 'when did i stop caring?' right then i knew i wasn't the same girl anymore. <br /><br />-update-<br /><br />oh now i know what i feel. this is static anger. and i don't know how to channel it to sentient anger. wtf, i'm so weird.<br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-9773625242560559492008-04-03T00:08:00.003+08:002008-04-03T00:15:40.002+08:00this is how tibak* i was before<span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >*tibak = aktib. (noun) pertaining to a socio-political activist</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">a poem i made years ago, which was published in our school's literary folio. i wonder what happened to the girl who wrote this? because somehow, somewhere, i was swallowed by conformity.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><blockquote><span style="font-weight: bold;">Idealistic raw ako</span><br /><br />maghirap man ako sa kakatayo<br />magkakalyo man ang mga paa ko<br />mangitim man ako mula sa sikat ng araw<br />mabingi man mula sa mga bulyaw<br /><br />magtitiis ako…<br /><br />umuwi man akong basag ang ulo<br />huwag kumain ng isang linggo<br />matulog man ako sa bilangguan<br />o tumira sa lansangan kung kinakailangan<br /><br />magtitiis ako…<br /><br />pagpatawanan man ng karamihan<br />at mabansagang kaaway ng bayan<br />mamalat mula sa kasisigaw<br />manghina sa sinag ng araw<br /><br />magtitiis ako…<br /><br />kung buhay man ang kapalit<br />o sa bilangguan ay mapiit<br />lahat ito’y titiisin ko<br />sa ngalan ng pagbabago<br /></blockquote><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="border: 0pt none ; vertical-align: middle;" /></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-35062585917285689492008-03-09T17:32:00.006+08:002008-03-09T18:49:20.283+08:00Whose head should I demand for this?<object width="425" height="373"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xpmf1YLmrNg&rel=0&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00&border=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xpmf1YLmrNg&rel=0&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="373"></embed></object><br /><br />And she won??!<br /><br />That's recently crowned Bb. Pilipinas-World Janina San Miguel during the pageant's interview portion. I'm sorry, but if this girl is going to represent the Philippines in an international beauty pageant, I want her F's and P's in place and her subject-verb agreement corrected.<br /><br />If no amount of training will suffice, for the love of God, provide the girl with an interpreter!<br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-90182783869868599322008-03-07T21:12:00.005+08:002008-03-07T22:01:21.346+08:00Dizzizit panzit<img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9im7zrMo4pD5G5eCo3e3BTbQIWfjuj82DDwWLnUXhBjOn_D2fBSxIIVZ8OM66Rp1JQwFOI8izfW9TEu0odA8AaiGo8UBoRmsnknhiHkcFRR28mv2_bEG90WcUfuDrFY6MzU1y2BzOFA/s200/07-03-08_2112.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174995193407005106" />I'm currently filling up an application for an exam that has a mortally rate of 99%. Something that may sound like a qualifying test for a MENSA membership, but it's not. It's for a position that a nurse like me has no room for. All my four years of college couldn't have prepared me for this test, but what the heck I'm taking it anyway. And to say it has something to do with the government, now that's the clincher. <br /><br />So needless to say, I am reviewing again. But now, my nose isn't buried in medical books. My nose is smelling dust from stacked history books and flinching from economic terms so foreign to me. It's learning all over again.<br /><br />There's also this possibility of working for a private company, but it requires me to have a certain ability I was certain I had before. So I'm rethinking about that.<br /><br />All of these in between studying for my unscheduled (yet) <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/NCLEX-RN">NCLEX</a>, as my mother badgers me on hours end.<br /><br />Three different roads. There's no easy way. Especially if your post-surgery mouth cannot stop bleeding. God help me.<br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-4272016084044876272008-02-27T09:39:00.006+08:002008-02-27T10:25:36.067+08:00The thenhow is one supposed to feel when you lose a beautiful memory? a friend and i have recently parted ideals and found out that our concept of time and waiting are very foreign to each other.<br /><br />i have very little idea of the metamorphosis. a few exchanges of bitter words, and then giving up. i wasn't sure if i was the one who gave up. i always thought friendship is a very quaint liaison. but i never thought there could be an end of it. i feel like getting a wrench and pounding it on my head, maybe something good will come out of it, save whatever is left of the remains of what once was.<br /><br />how is one supposed to feel when you lose a beautiful memory? unless somebody reminds you that you did lose it, it's never forgotten. is that the way it goes? or is it it's never even remembered?<br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="border: 0pt none ; vertical-align: middle;" /></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-44892964909304441412008-02-14T00:31:00.010+08:002008-02-18T00:53:30.205+08:00Maybe because of the Lozada factor?<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">I myself remembered a fundamental truth about courage. Which is that courage is not the absence of fear. It is the presence of fear, often a most crippling one, but a fear that is overcome by a heroic act of will, or by the recognition that one has no choice but to do what is right. That is what Rodolfo Lozada has done.<br />- Condrado De Quiros</span></div><span style="font-style: italic;"><blockquote></blockquote></span>When I was young, my father ran for councilor in a small town where our surname was a household name. My fondest memories are of those when we visit the "barrio" and it would seem like major celebrities just paid them a visit. During that certain election year, I vividly remember parading around our green beat-up Volkswagen and giving out candies and hand-printed flyers. My father had the slogan "Maka-Diyos, Maka-Tao" and it was cool for me back then because it rhymed with our family name. So I kept on shouting it when we do little political soirées at the town plaza.<br /><br />My father didn't have stickers, large banners and fancy gimmicks. He rode the carabao and went house to house. We were almost certain he would win. My clan owned more than half of the land there, most people were indebted to my Lolo and Lola, and most of all, people liked him because he is sincere and hardworking. But then he lost.<br /><br />There were talks of cheating, but my father accepted the defeat. He was told to run again in the next election, but he didn't. He never ran ever again. Years later, I would learn that the people my father expected to vote for him were bought by the other inept candidates for a measly P20.00. It was my first taste of how politics can be.<br /><br />So I think I acquired an unconscious political phobia. In school, I disliked the mere mention of my name in class election nominations. I never voted for myself either. When I win, I sulk then I do a lousy job. I'm so weird. It's the notion that I won because somehow I cheated with having more friends in the classroom, or my mother donating the new curtains, or being the teacher's pet, or simply because most of the kids were afraid of me (I was a big girl afterall). It just stuck on my mind that winning in an election constitutes cheating and we eventually elect inept individuals.<br /><br />I look at Jun Lozada now, with the people dragged in this controversy and the many controversies before that, and cannot help but to think if I'm right? And because I have too much time on my hands, I was able to watch the senate probe on Lozada's alleged kidnapping. I look at the pool of the senators and some of them ask funny, inappropriate, and almost stupid unrelated questions. I look at the slew of government officers being dragged in controversies one after the other, as if it was another day at the office. I wonder how many of our government officials actually do their work?<br /><br />School days suddenly remembered. Did we vote for a certain person because he was a friend? He was good-looking? He was an award-winning actor? Paid us P500? Donated curtains?<br /><br />Looking at the government that we have now, I ask a question: have we failed, then?<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="border: 0pt none ; vertical-align: middle;" /></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-42751921804594780112007-09-09T23:28:00.000+08:002007-09-10T00:33:34.121+08:00Has it been THAT long already?After receiving a text message from Maika a couple of weeks ago asking me why my blog suddenly went bullocks, it was only tonight that I realized what she meant. The images of my lay-out apparently are not loading properly, so I'm stuck with this basic template until I find time to fix my blog. My links and communities will be put up some other time as well.<br /><br />Hmmm.<br /><br />I was actually shocked to learn that I haven't blogged in exactly one month, thirteen days and four hours (correct me if I'm wrong, I'm horribly bad at numbers). You see, I have a confession to make: I haven't visited my blog in the last 4 weeks. My cyber activity in the last weeks basically includes a three-minute average visit to each of the following: Perez Hilton, Friendster, Gmail, Chuvaness (from whom I heard Gael Garcia Bernal is <a href="http://chuvaness.livejournal.com/284147.html">making a new movie and he's going to film here in Pinas</a>!), and Mininova. Occasionally to Youtube, but only to watch Yuri Lane's Beatbox Harmonica over and over again (I secretly love Yuri. Ssshhh). Most of the times, I am surfing for lesson plans (because I'm too lazy to make my own), doing activities for my students, and making reports on their progress (which is tougher than you think, i mean what shall I write if there is no progress at all?). In short, I am slaving to feed the capitalist interest that is my work. I have let myself become ignorant to the ways of the blogging world. So I ask thee for mercy, blogger Lords.<br /><br />I became 21 last August 17. It's almost hard to believe that a year has gone by so quickly again. Just so you know, faithful readers, gifts are still accepted, in cash or in kind (FOB tickets performing in Manila will be the greatest gift! LOL I heard they only have general admissions, so wag na lang. hehe). If you need my mailing address, please feel free to email me. Hahaha :) It almost always rains on my birthday, and one of the heaviest I could remember was this year. So the party was cut short by 10 PM, much to my dismay. But it was still fun. I left work with a bag of goodies which made me look like I just came from a Korean grocery. My students gave me things from canned tuna (which I heard costs about P200 if bought here in Pinas) to rice seasoning (Babirang rice seasoning rocks!). When I laid out the things they gave me, I was surprised to find a sachet of Chocquick. All I can say is, Milo still has my vote.<br /><br />The results of my <a href="http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/inquirerheadlines/nation/view_article.php?article_id=70581">June 07 Licensure Exams</a> came about a few weeks ago. Glad to announce I came through, thank God! Now I can proudly tell my grandsons and daughters their Lola is twice a registered nurse. I'm glad the leakage issue is finally brought to rest. As they say ... nakaraos din. When a friend messaged me that I passed the exam, I was walking with Maika at SM going down Session Road and I remember feeling extremely elated that my lacrimal glands erupted and gave me away. Suffice to say I cried a lot that day. I'd like to say thank you to all the people who have believed in me; friends, family and strangers alike. For all the prayers, guidance, and constant reassurance that I would make it. And if I didn't, that they would be there to hold my hand. I swear I have the best family and rockin' friends. <br /><br />That's it for now. I'm off to Lala land because I have work in approximately six hours. Please say you guys still love me even though I make the suckiest blog entries and I don't visit your blogs. Because I do love all of you to smithereens.<br /><br />Kisses! :)<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="border: 0pt none ; vertical-align: middle;" /></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-88016624854632392932007-07-26T19:39:00.001+08:002007-07-26T20:43:57.900+08:00One day, I will be shot dead because of this blogYes, I'm still alive and my cyber life is still kicking ass. Let it be known that although I haven't been leaving comments in your blogs, I am reading your entries through my reader. All is not lost.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br /></div><br />My billable-per-hour job is keeping me busy. It is funny how friends say I am becoming Korean with every minute I spend with my kids. Minus the looks, of course. About two days ago, I was discussing Geography with a student for a conversation class. We drifted off to talking about food and I asked him what his favorite Asian food is. His eyebrows met and this is the sign where I elaborate my question AKA speak in broken English. But still, he didn't understand, and asked me what "Asia" meant.<br /><br />As pronunciation is the key to this joke, let it be known that I pronounced "Asia" as any person would in English: <span style="font-style: italic;">"ey-shuh"</span>. As I am the kind of teacher who doesn't spoon-feed her students, I went on telling nearly all the Asian countries and also naming the other continents as clues. But still, nothing. I wished at that moment God would leave Iraq for a while and shower me with patience.<br /><br />Until the little Korean me took hold of the discussion. I said <span style="font-style: italic;">"ah-see-yah"</span> with complete Korean accent. And like an incandescent bulb would react in a flinch of the switch, my student finally got it.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br /></div><br />I have finished reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows last Monday. Since then, I have spent every idle moment I have in thinking what will Daniel Radcliffe look like when they film the Deathly Hallows.<br /><br />We all know that nothing in this world is permanent, but it's funny when we are always taken aback when change hits us right in the face.<br /><br />I can't wait to grow old. As in a 90-year-old old.<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="border: 0pt none ; vertical-align: middle;" /></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-54458532669815533972007-07-18T22:17:00.000+08:002007-07-19T20:58:25.380+08:00EDIT: The singer sounds like Renz Verano LOL<center><object height="325" width="405"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OoMoYB0XAb4"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OoMoYB0XAb4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="325" width="400"></embed></object></center><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">*Kahmsamnida Sunny Oppa, for introducing me to this band. </span><br /><br />Japs are so emotional. Sila talaga ang sinaunang "emo" people. Ito yung panahon na naloloka pa lang ako sa Spice Girls, hardcore na ang X Japan. Circa 1997. Wala, talbog si Jolina kay Hide (the guy sa video na pink yung hair). Tapos kamukha ni Freddie Aguilar yung isang guitar guy.<br /><br />Anyway, I'm sorry for the lack of *decent* posts lately. And for not dropping by your blogs. Busy sa kaka-sine. We watched an advanced screening of Ratatouille two days ago (or was it three?), at isa lang masasabi ko: KADIRI YUNG MGA DAGA NUNG NASA KITCHEN NA SILA. I'm sorry, you can never put rats and food together without having a *kadiri* feeling. But I loved that short animation before the movie started... Super funny. :)<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="border: 0pt none ; vertical-align: middle;" /></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-45273989024915994992007-07-04T22:47:00.000+08:002007-07-04T23:00:38.160+08:00Wentworth Miller is gay<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvZAo3AU77ck4SjcxFkJmPKOYyhxIfYLvR70Nn-i0Ty9ZAZI7kfnMqDrHU5myid9TsqV6H2rCM-NV-6jaeG6z-ML74ImLdmcXqmW3eakLFb5Z7me5H0cQDaCRMcGF-v6-BVZagNu5ZKw/s1600-h/wentworthnewbf.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvZAo3AU77ck4SjcxFkJmPKOYyhxIfYLvR70Nn-i0Ty9ZAZI7kfnMqDrHU5myid9TsqV6H2rCM-NV-6jaeG6z-ML74ImLdmcXqmW3eakLFb5Z7me5H0cQDaCRMcGF-v6-BVZagNu5ZKw/s320/wentworthnewbf.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083355387752951042" /></a><br />I died, died, died. <a href="http://perezhilton.com/?cat=89">I so believe Perez Hilton.</a> Such a loss for the female specie, Wentworth Miller is soooooo hot! Like, burning hot kaya! What is the world coming to?<br /><br />I STILL wanna have his kid. How much kaya is his sperm? Ay wait, I wanna have threesome with Miller and his boytoy, Luke MacFarlane. Pero baka ma-echepwera ako. LOL<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-16889350918349213362007-06-27T19:59:00.000+08:002007-06-27T20:59:51.068+08:00Korean Phrases You (Don't) Need, Part 1I'm aware that most of you out there do not have the Korean font installed, so I'll just romanize whatever Korean I know. As in spell them on how they are pronounced. This is not a formal tutorial, just some basic expressions to show off you know some Korean. Sorry, these are very random expressions. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Arasso / Arachi (Ara)</span><br />No, this is not the famous actress daughter of Mel Mathay. This means "understand", and can be used as a question (Do you understand? <i>Arasso?</i>) and an affirmative answer to highlight understanding of a certain matter (Yes, I understand. <i>Ne, arasso.</i>).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Mollah / Mollah so / Nanen mollah</span><br />This equates to the Tagalog term "ewan", meaning "I do not know". If you want to make <span style="font-style:italic;">inis</span> (refer to word below) a Korean, ask what "mollah" means and when he says "I don't know", tell him "Huh? You don't know?" and you know the rest.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Ja jeung nah</span><br />Means "annoying" (kainis) or "annoyed" and somewhat inappropriate expression. It also connotes a complaint or utter expression of dismay/protest to someone or something. (In Konglish: <span style="font-style:italic;">Eysh! You're very ja jeung nah!</span>)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Hajima</span><br />Roughly translates to "stop", "stop what you're doing", "stop it".<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Kwaen cha na yo</span><br />This phrase can be used in different ways. (1)In an interrogative way: <span style="font-style:italic;">Kwaen cha na?</span> meaning "Are you okay?", especially after an accident has occurred. (2)As an affirmative answer to #1: <span style="font-style:italic;">Kwaen cha na yo.</span> meaning "I'm fine" or "I'm okay". (3)After somebody says "I'm sorry": <span style="font-style:italic;">Kwaen cha na</span> meaning "It's okay (don't mind it)".(4)As a response to a "Thank you": <span style="font-style:italic;">Kwaen cha na</span> meaning "No problem" or "It's okay".<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Sincha / also: Cincha</span><br />I think this is the second word Filipinos learn from Koreans (after ahnnyeonghaseyo) because it is most of the latter's favorite expression, which means "really" or "true". Can be used as an expression of disbelief (<span style="font-style:italic;">Sincha???</span> Really???), amazement and affirmation of the event (<span style="font-style:italic;">Sincha!</span> Really!) or simply used as validation (question) or basically an expression when teasing.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Miane / Mianhamnida / Chwesonghamnida</span><br />Basically means "I'm sorry" or "My apologies". <span style="font-style:italic;">Miane</span> (miya ne) is less formal for very small offense. <span style="font-style:italic;">Mianhamnida</span> is more formal but <span style="font-style:italic;">chwesonghamnida</span> for a more grave offense.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Cheori ka</span><br />Means "Get lost" or "Go away" and can sometimes be rude. (Antonym of <span style="font-weight:bold;">Iriwa</span> or <span style="font-weight:bold;">Irowa</span>, which means "Come here" in true sense.)<br /><br />That is it for now. Will add more soon. Maybe a more structured one. Hehe...<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-64603951569484074972007-06-25T19:30:00.000+08:002007-06-25T20:12:40.015+08:00I wish my life was on auto-pilotIt is days like these- rainy Mondays- that life is worth contemplating upon. Between the traffic jam that threatens my timely presence at work and the tattling of rain on the cab's exterior, I can not help but ponder on the amphigory I call my life. There are instances when I wish I could go ten years forward and see what mess I could've done and then go back again so I can fix it. Then I would do this again and again until I am satisfied with how the future will turn out, living the life I've always wanted. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hiro_Nakamura">Hiro</a> complex, I like to call it.<br /><br />I seriously hate the future and the mystery it brings. This is probably due to the fact that the future is reflected by what you do today. And right now, I'm living a crappy life. I've always envisioned life post college as a grand adventure of some sort. A race to the final destination of a fantastic job, loving husband, cute children and Sundays at the Club. My mind is coñio like that.<br /><br />I'm in a sea of conflict and my billable-per-hour job right now is an air vest waiting to explode. And when it does, I'm out of my comfort zone swimming for my life. And I do not know how to swim, and if I did, I wouldn't know in which direction I should head to so my feet can touch sand again. <br /><br />The future fucks with my mind like crazy, so there are a lot of times I do not think about it. Except for days like these- rainy Mondays- when it is always nice to be afraid, to feel alone, so it will stir you to do something so you can see clearly ahead. Like turning your wiper on, perhaps.<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7459466897169613715.post-56583262412875814742007-06-21T18:11:00.000+08:002007-06-21T18:35:41.499+08:00Wow Philippines<center><p><a href="http://forge.codedgraphic.com/lakbayan"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://forge.codedgraphic.com/lakbayan/map-v1.0?ijaabaaahbikaaamppacaipdkkalaadacappalkcmaaaakfdpkaakcaakaunkmmkbadplprkpaaeiaamaaaaaaaaaa9198" title="Lakbayan Visited Map" alt="" /></a><br /><a href="http://forge.codedgraphic.com/lakbayan"><img style="border:0px;margin-top:5px;" src="http://forge.codedgraphic.com/lakbayan/grade-c+" title="Lakbayan Grade: C+" alt="" /></a></p><p><strong>My Lakbayan grade is C+!</strong><p><p>How much of the Philippines have you visited? Find out at<a href="http://forge.codedgraphic.com/lakbayan">Lakbayan</a>!</p><cite style="font-size:85%">Created by <a href="http://vaes9.codedgraphic.com">Eugene Villar</a>.</cite></center><br /><br />Not bad, eh? I'm surprised to have gained this score, when most of the people I know got stuck with Cs or Ds (peace). And then I remembered I used to travel a lot when I was in high school, joining contests and such (mostly writing/journalistic events). My school would sponsor it which basically means free everything. <br /><br />Then come college, I was given opportunities to travel wherever CEGP (College Editor's Guild of the Philippines) held their infamous national conferences. All I had to bring was my pocket money.<br /><br />There were times in my life when I would come home only for two weeks and off to traveling again. Especially in my high school senior year, when all the good stuff came rushing in. The furthest I went is to the <a href="http://www.pia.gov.ph/info/listtown.asp?regnum=12">SOCSARGEN region</a>. Stayed there for more than a week. All I could remember was that everything I ate was tuna-- tuna longganisa, tuna hotdog, sinigang na tuna, adobong tuna, tuna tocino, and a bunch of other tuna delicacies, especially when I was at General Santos City.<br /><br />Maybe if I had gone to Boracay, Puerto Galera, and Bohol last summer, I would've gotten a B-.<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/feed-icon16x16.png" alt="" style="vertical-align:middle;border:0"/></a> <a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/CheeseToGoWithMyWhine" rel="alternate" type="application/rss+xml">Add this blog to your feeds.</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11