30 November 2007
Then my sister (who was on her way to a weekend at the beach to set turtles free) called.
"Ate, your classmate did it again!"
"Classmate?" Sneeze. "Are you talking about Sonny?"
"He's not my classmate." Sneeze. Sniff. Sniff.
"He's not? Oh! he's my classmate."
"He was your student once."
"Oh never mind! He did it again! An Oakwood thingee!"
These are the times when I sorely wish I had a TV reception even if it's just the local channels. (I won't elaborate on what happened, but for full story just search for it on any local broadsheet website.) I listened to the AM radio over the internet, while I got ready to run errands for the day. I wanted to stay in bed, my colds were demanding that I do, but I had to buy ingredients, and get meds and fruits. So after lunch, I left, the radio tuned to DZRH, and started on my list of errands.
I got back home at 5:30PM. I immediately put on a heavy sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, and crawled under the covers. I drank my meds and plenty of water, and tried to sleep. But my phone kept ringing: my Dad asking about my essay, a friend who wanted to inform me of his new number and email, and my Dad again asking where the hell I was because there was a curfew.
That woke me up instantly. Curfew? Apparently to quell anymore "disturbances to the peace," everyone is expected to be indoors between 12MN and 5AM.
My alertness was quickly replaced by sleepiness. I didn't really care at that point. I just wanted to succumb to the meds, and sleep. I'm not the alleged corrupt one who was so panicked over a closed-door meeting with twenty armed soldiers in attendance that emptied an entire five-star hotel (okay, so it qualifies as holding it hostage); and who over-reacted by sending tankers and battalions of soldiers to break up so-called "meeting." It's actually flattering to have all these attention given to this so-called "meeting." Who holds that kind of a meeting anyway?!? Normal people sit around a table, talk, sip coffee, munch on pastries and don't require every other guests to leave, having your armed friends escort them out of the building every ten minutes.
Don't mind me, my head is still swimming with cold and flu medicine.
29 November 2007
The 3rd Rock the Riles is on! An annual gathering of artists to uphold Human Rights! Abangan! Salihan! Ipamalita.
Imbitado ka na naman.
RtR Icon design by: Acky Ferreria. copyright2007 (PLS NOTE: this poster is still undergoing revisions for the add'l participants in Riles. Buendia has rakista.com bands, Quezon Av has the photographers of LomoManila, North Edsa has the M4 collective and a DJ set up, etc etc etc)
Text by Gang Badoy
25 November 2007
8:35AM. Reached for my phone to check messages that were sent while I was sleeping. Foremost was Beng asking if we were still going to the Neil Gaiman event at Fully Booked. Texted back, yes.
8:40AM. Stretched some more.
9:00AM. Went downstairs, turned on the computer.
9:03AM. Closed the Word document (that I'm supposed to be working on because laziness took over).
9:04AM. Clicked on Sally's Salon.
11:10AM. Roomate woke up and found me still playing Sally's Salon.
11:30AM. Started researching again for wedding photography.
11:43AM. I stumbled on a goth-obsessed wedding photographer. Photos very ordinary and we didn't like her lay outs. (In Nards' words: PANGIT!!)
11:50AM. Started to outline our rates for our wedding photography business, and other people we can tap to provide supplementary services (layouts, videos)
12:00NN. Beng called, confirming our Neil Gaiman thingee. (Yes, for the hundredth time, partnered with eyes rolling)
12:03PM. Still surfing.
1:05PM. Beng sent a text message saying she was five minutes away.
1:09PM. Showering frantically.
1:10PM. Beng knocks on the door.
1:12PM. Showered and dressed.
1:17PM. Frantic again. Shutting down the computers and unplugging ALL the electricals. (Global warming!!)
1:20PM. Driving on EDSA.
2:00PM. Arrived in Bonifacio High Street.
2:08PM. Browsing (and hating Fully Booked)
2:45PM. Standing at the left side of stage where Neil Gaiman will speak.
3:00PM. No sign of Neil Gaiman.
3:02PM. Started taking photos of Beng and Nards, the audience, the stage, anything and anyone to alleviate boredom.
3:15PM. Still no sign of Neil Gaiman. But I see two men tuning a guitar on the stage. (What are they doing there? Is Neil going to do a song and dance number?)
3:18PM. People in Wushu costume carrying long drumsticks sneak "backstage." (Backstage is a flimsy tent.)
3:23PM. Still no sign of Neil Gaiman.
3:30PM. Consensus of the group: Leave. No patience to sit through a front act. (Especially when all we want to hear was Neil! Neil! Neil!! Haay.)
3:33PM. Pulling out of the parking lot.
3:35PM. Made a left turn on 32nd St from 9th Avenue.
3:37PM. Got flagged down by traffic enforcer for making an illegal left turn.
3:38PM. Doing my I-shouldn't-have-gone-out-today mantra.
3:50PM. Got off with a warning.
4:00PM. Went to S&R to buy board shorts for Beng. They were out, so we bought shirts instead.
4:17PM. High tailed it out of The Fort and went to meet Maan to buy a camera flash.
4:40PM. Got the flash. Tempted to do an impromptu photoshoot, but opted to go home instead.
5:30PM. Had an early dinner.
22 November 2007
Great day trip.
Sunrise of Nov 30 -- assist these baby pawikans to the shore.
Sunset of Nov 30 -- groove to the music of CHILLITEES and SOUND together with the artists of Locked Down Productions. (event powered by Rock Ed Philippines -Environment Project Group)
Acknowledgments: Province of Bataan, Center for Environmental Awareness and Education and the musicians of Rock Ed Philippines who like turtles.
--Text by Gang Badoy
17 November 2007
My Mum, however, saw this recipe in her new cookbook. And like title of this post says, it's the most complicated oatmeal raisin cookie in the wurld. Here are some of the ingredients:
I may not be baking these cookies again, but I certainly enjoyed baking with my Mum. :)
Photos by Aggie
16 November 2007
12 November 2007
11-11-07. 164 private citizens of the Philippines watched the sunset in silence. All wearing a shade of blue. No placards, no megaphones, no poetry, no songs.
Whatever it is you think we're protesting about, you're probably right.
08 November 2007
07 November 2007
"Shet, nakakalungkot naman ito. Three days old lang siya," sabi ni Gang. I agreed. Although there was a familiar name in it, but I wasn't sure if it was the person I knew. We didn't think about it anymore, because the conversation turned to other things. The urge to text passed because I don't have Brian's number on my phone.
Until today, when I got an email from Brian. His baby nephew, Miguel Paulo, passed away. He also attached a scanned clipping of the obituary. The same obituary we saw.
And I feel so sad. He was born on 29 October and he passed away on 1 November. He was cremated last Monday, 5 November.
I can't imagine the grief that the parents are going through.
01 November 2007
My mother lighted these candles. She placed it on the sidewalk in front of our house. In most of the houses, up and down our street, there are lighted candles either on the sidewalk or just outside the gate. Every half hour, my siblings and I take turns making sure they are still lighted or if one or two of the holders need a replacement candle.
We do this every year, for our loved ones who have passed on; for Lola Angela and Lolo Periong.