Mango salsa

Greetings, members of the Temporarily Spouseless Club, and friends!

Today, we will put our idle hours -- not to mention our delicious payload of Cebu mangoes -- to good use by making mango salsa!

The scent of mangoes and cilantro will surely brighten up your mood and make you forget that it will be two more long and dull nights until your Traveling Spouse returns! It's like sunshine in your kitchen... and in your miserable lonely heart!

There are a number of useful mango salsa recipes on the web. If you find yourself staring at an inordinate amount of unused produce in your refrigerator (a clear sign that it's been a Temporarily Spouseless week!), you may want to just use these helpful suggestions as a base and throw in a few other odds and ends!

For my own version of mango salsa, I used the following:

• 2 ripe mangoes, flesh chopped
• 3 quarters of a large onion, diced
• Small handful of fresh basil leaves, roughly chopped
• Fresh coriander leaves, roughly chopped
• One medium red chili, de-seeded and chopped (I left in some of the seeds because I know my Traveling Spouse likes a little bit of warmth!)
• Juice and grated zest of two medium limes 
• A dash of sea salt
• A dash of pepper

Just chop everything and chuck it into a jar! Jamie Oliver likes to drizzle a little olive oil into mixtures like this to "loosen up" the flavors, but I think it's okay to skip this step.

Then, mix all the ingredients with a spoon and taste! Mmm... tangy!

Cover the jar tightly to ensure that the salsa will still be lovely and ready to enjoy when your Traveling Spouse returns! This will be great with pan-fried salmon or even some grilled chicken. Perfect for a welcome home dinner as he presents you with a plethora of gifts from his latest trip!

Till the next meeting of the Temporarily Spouseless Club... keep busy!

The Temporarily Spouseless Club

This weekend I know of two friends who are, like me, finding ways to while away the time while their spouses are away.

All three of us have been uncharacteristically active on Facebook, documenting our restlessness. Gerwin has been having the same kind of weekend as I am -- catching up on stockpiled movies and TV series, doing chores, doing short errand jaunts -- in Hong Kong while his wife Charlie and their newborn darling George are in Manila. Tria has been diligently occupying herself with art, music and the company of friends while her husband Peter is in Paris for work.

Unlike Tria, I decided to stay in all weekend. I figured that one of the upsides to Marlon being in Manila over the weekend was that I can stay in bed all day and not feel guilty about it. I am a hundred times more of a sloth than he is and he gets restless if we're still in bed after 10am. So I usually compromise and rouse myself from my hibernation.

So I gleefully made the bed my base of activities for the whole of Saturday. With the exception of cooking lunch and watching Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros in the TV room, I staunchly parked my ass in bed until about 4 o'clock.

At which time it began to get old. Really old. Which spurred me into a frenzy of activity.

After doing two loads of laundry, washing dishes, cleaning the kitchen, uploading nearly 400 pictures of Bohol to Facebook, reading various blogs,writing a blog post about Cebu, chatting with my mom, watching Food Inc on my laptop, and eating dinner, I was stuck. It seemed I had run out of things to do.

So I (GASP!) exercised. I walked/jogged 5 km, or five laps around the condo. Who would think that boredom/desperation would be my key driver for physical activity?

Today I woke up at 9:30 a.m, went to Mass, did the groceries (remembering to bring my canvas bag!), and had so much time to kill that I took the bus instead of hopping into a cab, and going home, obediently queued for 20 minutes at the taxi stand instead of fast-booking a taxi. Could it be that being single makes me more active, less impatient and more thrifty?

And all the while, I was accompanied by my short-time, temporary spouses -- an iPod Shuffle (which I never would have bought on my own! Thanks Ate!) and a good book. These must be the proverbial cards for card-carrying members of the Temporarily Spouseless Club.

Chomping through Cebu

Whew! Finally managed to finish uploading all the photos from my Chinese New Year trip. Now I can start blogging.

So Chinese New Year this year was spent in Cebu and Bohol. Marlon and had originally not planned to take any days off apart from the Monday and Tuesday public holidays, so we figured somewhere with a direct flight from Singapore and minimum land travel was our best bet. Thus, Cebu and its ferry-able neighbor, Bohol. But then both my clients and design team decided to disappear for the rest of the week, prompting me to do the same. So a four-day holiday stretched out into a full week, which we discovered, was just about right.

Kate generously offered us a place at her house in Talamban, which was like staying at a boutique hotel or b&b for free. (Check out the guest house, on the left.) Oh, and her family fed us like pigs for slaughter. Her stepdad is an amazing cook, and it was a particularly sore regret we couldn't stay for his homemade lechon since we had to go off to Bohol the next day.

It was at Kate's family's table that I had my first taste of Cebu lechon. We woke up at noon on Saturday to find that Kate's mom had ordered Rico's Lechon for us.

Now, pork is my second least favorite animal product to eat, after eggs. I've only had lechon twice in my life, and those were forgettable affairs where I had to eat it or starve, because it was one of only a few items on a buffet. When I tried it, I didn't get what was so great about it, so I've stayed away from lechon since then.

My taste buds must have known what they were doing, because apparently they've been saving themselves for Cebu lechon all along. Like innocent young maidens saving themselves for The One, my taste buds turned into complete whores who couldn't get enough after the first taste. That first encounter with the salty, savory sinfulness of Cebu lechon set the tone for the rest of our stay in Cebu.

If it had been humanly possible to eat for 36 hours straight, until we finally set off for Tagbilaran, I'm sure we would have found a way to do it. As it turned out, sightseeing and shopping were only stop-gap activities meant to kill time until the next meal. It was definitely a disservice to Cebu to see only the Santo Nino Basilica, the Cebu Cathedral, and Ayala Center -- one we eagerly attempted to make amends for by sampling as much of its culinary delights as we could in only four mealtimes.

Kinilaw is one of my three favorite Pinoy dishes of all time (it's right up there with adobo and salpicao), and Cebu is its home. In honor of this glorious fact, I had kinilaw twice in as many days -- once at Jo's Inato (a Cebuano version of  chicken inasal), and another time at Chika-an, two fantastic Filipino restaurants on Salinas Drive in Lahug. For me, big, pink tender chunks of tanigue with the jaw-clenching sweet-sourness of coconut vinegar are a combination that's tough to beat.

Speaking of Jo's Inato, that's where I met up with Gids for dinner. He was in town to conduct a performance with an orchestra (his first!). I can't put my finger on what was so special about Jo's chicken inato, but I couldn't stop eating! I am not normally a bottomless rice kinda gal, but I swear I must have had about three helpings of rice that evening! It was Gids who recommended Chika-an (over the Cebu classic, Golden Cowrie) and we were not disappointed at all when we went there for lunch on Sunday.

Anthony Bourdain's anointed "Best. Pig. Ever" was a must on our list, and we managed to get a bit of Marketman's acupunctured Zubuchon on Sunday. There was barely anyone at Banilad Town Center, so the staff even gave us bits of crunchy skin for free! We snuck our package of lechon into Chika-an for lunch and had it with their bottomless rice. Sarap! I am not a pig lover but I ate so much of it sumakit ang batok ko pagkatapos. To be fair to Chika-an, we ordered a host of other stuff -- their monggo soup in particular is creamy and rich, something the miserably thin monggo soups of your childhood could only dream of becoming after seven lifetimes of settling karmic debt. I suspect it's cooked like Indian dal, with cream and butter.

We also tried out Oh Georg! at Ayala Center, and it was a struggle to make space for this wonderfully sticky toffee pudding. But for this dense, moist cake with its smoky sweetness of ever-so-slightly burnt toffee, the "struggle" was worth it.

After 36 hours of such frenetic eating, I was afraid of stepping onto the Supercat to Tagbilaran lest I single-handedly sink it with my weight. But to paraphrase the old adage: those who eat and sail away, return to eat another day...

Jakpat

Inspired by J's wishful thinking, I have decided to fritter away my last afternoon at work before the long weekend deciding how I would spend the Philippine Super Lotto jackpot of Php 200 million. Yes, I know some lucky bastard already won it but it's still fun to dream.

1. Buy back my childhood home on Hydra Street in Bel-Air 3 and give it a makeover
2. Barring that, I would buy this old house and give it a makeover. The lot is huge so I would build a detached unit for my mom
3. Buy beach property or property in Tagaytay, and build a small beach house, resort or cafe 
4. Spend at least Php 1 million on art. I'd be happy with an Arturo Luz, a Bencab, and a Geraldine Javier.
5. Buy a car each for me and Marlon. My tastes are simple, I'd want something cute like a Honda Jazz or Mini Cooper. I would love to have a sporty BMW, but flashy cars in Manila are buwaya magnets
6. Clean out my sister's credit card bill (if she hasn't already by now!)
7. Give my mom a huge balato to spend as she pleases
   
8. Hit Bottega Veneta, Chanel, Miu Miu and YSL. Or basta, go shopping.
9. Plunk a sizeable amount into insurance and mutual funds
10. Convince Marlon to take his overdue sabbatical from work and gallivant around Europe for at least a month
11. Make a generous donation to the Ateneo Scholars Fund. I was a scholar and know how much difference the money can make :)

But since some lukcy bastard already won the jackpot -- err, jakpat -- I will simply have to content myself with a week of cheap eats, shopping and mani-pedis in Cebu, as well as bumming on the beaches of Bohol... because that is precisely what I'll be doing starting tomorrow!

A note on the title of this post: this word always reminds me of a semi-hot conyotic-looking guy in one of my classes back in college, whom everyone was crushing on. It was freshman year and nobody really knew each other yet so parang cool and mysterious pa siya.

Anyway, one afternoon in class, a spontaneous pocket of silence opened up for a split second, just enough to let the whole class hear him crow, "Pare, JAKPAT!"  

Ngek. Tinginan ang mga elitistang Atenista. Hindi na siya cute pagkatapos nun. 

Back from business

I'm back from my first ever business trip! While the people closest to me, Marlon and my sister, have been pretty much jetting all over the world on business for many many years, this weekend marks the first time I have had to travel anywhere requiring a passport, in a professional capacity.

I spent the last six days in Kuala Lumpur on a shoot for a long-running project for Disney Channel. The team that flew down was composed of me, James, Jerrold, Mike and Leang -- a producer, director, assistant director/editor, graphic designer and director of photography, respectively. We each got our own rooms in a surprisingly good hotel -- the Dorsett Regency right smack in the middle of Bukit Bintang in downtown KL. For $70/night, the hotel wasn't bad at all! The location couldn't be beat, and it was a dead ringer for the pre-renovation Manila Pen. 

The whole experience of being away on business seemed slightly surreal to me. It was like I had momentarily stepped out of reality into something that was pretending to be my life, but was distinctly separate from it. Shooting on location all day and coming home to an empty hotel room simply nothing to do with my "real" life. It wasn't an unpleasant experience, and I even feel grateful that my days were so full and I was so tired there wasn't much room for loneliness. 

But I felt like being away had hit the "pause" button on something inside me (my ability to be fully present? To fully enjoy an experience?) and I was just waiting for the time when I could... unpause myself. 

Still, it feels good to be sent to another country because of something that I can do, and do reasonably well. (Let's hope it's a good sign of more travels to come, hmm?) I enjoyed spending time with my team (it's James' last shoot before he leaves BDA!) and my sister and her friends. I also enjoyed the "me" time in the cushy hotel room, and shoe shopping in Sungei Wang, the Greenhills/Tutuban Mall of Kuala Lumpur. And of course completing a successful shoot always gives me a high. 

But now I'm back home, cocooned in the arms of my Bulgari-scented husband (he knows I love it so he wore it to the airport!), in the comfort of my very own home, and in the spotty affections of my tempestuous cat. And no professional high can beat that. 

First impressions

It's a very short walk from the bus stop to the office. I think I'll stick this route: free shuttle from condo to MRT station, MRT to the hubby's office, bus from the hubby's office to mine. With the number of transfers it almost feels like a Manila commute. Travel time: nearly an hour and a half.

Our neighbor, the International Academy of Film and TV (still empty as yet) has what I'd say is a 100-inch plasma TV mounted on the wall. That there is the biggest TV I've ever seen.

Stickers on the frosted glass telling everyone what we do. This is probably to distinguish us from a bank, which is what I think of when I see these half-frosted, half-clear all glass facades.

Well, at least the London bosses finally get the fancy reception area they've been insisting on for donkey's years.

Whoa. The floors are shiny.

Whoa. It's bright. Really bright. The light! It burns!

Wow. James really looks like a creative director now. Too bad he's leaving. These offices make people look more important. 

Wow. All the awkward, oddly-sized pillars scattered around in random places are gone. Or at least, have been well hidden. Good work!

Very nice wavy perforated steel like thingy in the meeting room. And we now have a very big TV. Nowhere near the IAFTV Jumbotron, but respectably big.

The edit and audio suites are nice. They look suitably maze-like, like all post facilities must be required to look. I like the grey walls. 

Brrr. It's freezing in here.

Where is my coffee mug? Where is the coffee? General confusion.

Where is _________? Did he get lost or show up at the old office? It's nearly lunch time.

Damnit, there he is. And I have a clear view of him from my new desk. Must adjust this monitor -- ah, there. Perfect. It's almost as if he doesn't exist. Until he starts talking.

-----

More on the new office (with pictures!) when I get back from KL!

A fitting farewell

Jessica Zafra is all about the irony, so it was indeed ironic that she posted a photo of my office on her blog on the very weekend that it ceases to be my office.

It's a perfectly timed goodbye to the old place, from one of my favorite writers and bloggers no less. 

Also this weekend, I inquired about a pair of earrings displayed on Rajo Laurel's blog and he was kind enough to send me a personal reply. It seems to be Pinoy celebrity blogger week around here!

Goodbye Oxley Road

The company I work for is moving to a new office this weekend. With Lilian gone and James leaving soon, moving out of the house on Oxley Road feels like an end of an era, a farewell to the "old" BDA. I wonder what the new one (both the house and the company) will be like.

I admit I had my doubts about it at first, but I could see the potential. My love for old houses soon won out. With some minor improvements and a fresh lick of paint, the beauty of this pre-war house (which is considered ancient in Singapore) began to shine through. I began to fall in love with its airiness, high ceilings and the abundance of natural light, which I will miss. 

The main workroom for me, the interns and the boys (designers). The light fixtures are vintage and come with the house. The floors are polished cement. 

It always fills me with pride to hear the reactions of clients and visitors who step into our office for the first time. People just love it. 

We used to have clients who would come over for meetings more often than usual just to escape the tedium of their own offices. Everybody would rave about how beautiful it was, how we must love working here, how it doesn't feel like an office at all, how they would love to work here, what a bomb we must be paying for a place like this (it rents for substantially less than people might suspect). I couldn't agree more. Even when I have to come to work on Saturday, the house is a consolation. It never feels like work. I sometimes find myself calling it "the house", not the office.

Our head office in London hates it. I think they just don't understand the culture and how aspirational this kind of place is for people in the region. I don't understand how our group director could have called it a shithole. :( Thus the move. 

We painted these murals using the company motif (fish) and color (blue) last January when the economy was down -- business was so slow that we had nothing else to do. It was a brilliant idea of Lilian's -- it was fun and kept us busy until work started to roll in.

When we first moved in, I made sure to get a desk beside the window for the sunshine and the greenery.

Speaking of greenery, there is so much of it around. I will miss it. Here's the second floor hallway where Jerrold likes to have his coffee and smoke with James. 

And right across from us is the yoga studio. Sometimes when I feel stressed I come up here and look out into the green and the neighborhood. 

Or I go into the backyard and take a breather. More recently I've developed the habit of having lunch outside even though most people find it too warm out. I'll miss the backyard too. 

It's a perfect place for barbecues, which we do quite often. 

Barbecues seem to be one of the national pastimes of Singapore, right after shopping and queuing for something. 

We had the last official barbecue last night and I still smell like liempo.

I'll even miss the kitchen, which is too small to fit more than three people at a time and reminds me of a hobbit kitchen. 

I'll miss the neighborhood and stepping out into this sunshiny, quiet street (which enjoys special protection, considering Lee Kwan Yew lives on the same street). I'll also miss the five-minute walk to Orchard Road -- goodbye Uniqlo megastore, long decompressing lunches, quick decompressing shopping escapes, Mang Kiko's lechon. I'm sure Chinatown is pretty happening as well, but well Orchard is different.

Goodbye, 55 Oxley Road. You were a lovely home to all of us. Too bad we only knew you for a year and a half. 

Thankful

Last weekend was my big shoot for a project I've been working on for over four months. It was the cause of many sleepless nights, working Saturdays, and elevated heart rates for me. It was my first time to be the overall production manager on a project after Lilian left, on no less than a three-day multiple location shoot.

In the month before the shoot, my mind was filled with all the things that could possibly go wrong. Would we get our shoot insurance in time? Would the Land Transport Authority realize they gave us permission to shoot on the wrong date? Would this sixth round of casting finally be the last? Was rainy season in Singapore really over? Why wasn't one of the talents answering my calls and texts? What potential crises could come up and how would I respond? (What a vague question huh? This is the one that drove me up the wall.)

Then I had a breakthrough. And the oddest thing happened -- the two final weeks leading up to the shoot were the most relaxed I had had in months. We had pre-production meetings within the team where we realized we barely had anything to discuss. The final PPM with the client was a breeze. We finished packing up all the production stuff -- drinks, snacks, props -- and loaded them into the van at lunchtime the day before the shoot, and not at the last minute or in the dead of night. I even had time to print all the permits and release forms, neatly print each talent's name on payment vouchers and put their fees into separate (recycled) envelopes.

Then I realized four months of pre-production might have been like going into long, painful and drawn-out labor, but without all those months of pre-work, I might have died trying to pull off a shebang like this at the last minute.

And so we shot. Yes, sh*t happened -- a few things went missing, the usual client this-and-that, even the bane of my existence as a PM: overtime (for each hour of which, everyone on the crew charges me 1.5x their hourly rate! Gak!). Yet each day, after shooting wrapped for the day, I felt only two overwhelming things. Fatigue, and gratitude.

I was thankful for... 

... the beautiful, sunny weather and clear blue skies on all three days of the shoot -- even when we were shooting indoors. The day after we wrapped, it began to rain daily.

... the amazing performances of our talents. Our death-defying skateboarder had all of us applauding after takes. Despite literally skateboarding from 9 to 5, he was smiling the entire time.

... for the patience and sense of humor of our extras. They poked fun at each other wearing the compulsory, client-required safety gear, which they said they hadn't worn since they were 10. They had some mad skills too.

... the energy, enthusiasm, good looks and stellar performances of our cast. Every one of these kids was a winner. We had only one non-teen (she was 24!) and you couldn't tell she was a day over 16. For me, she stole the show.

... the kindness of our clients. They had typical client concerns, but nothing we couldn't handle and always delivered in the most pleasant and constructive manner. On the whole I couldn't have asked for better.

... the caring presence of my favorite makeup auntie, Doris. She pampers all the talents, looks after everyone on set and goes beyond the call of duty every time. She even mirrors all the directors' instructions just outside frame, because she believes it will help the talents. She's so cute.

... the support of my team at BDA. I really felt everyone supporting me. They always seem to know what to do and I felt we all worked really well together.

... the generosity of Joan, who owns the yoga centre next door. She allowed us to shoot in her beautiful ground floor studio with nary a second thought. She arrived on set to find a maelstrom of cables, shoes (we had to take them off to avoid damaging her flawless parquet), equipment and furniture and was totally Zen about it. I guess 30 years of yoga does wonders for your equilibrium. Without her, I don't know what I would have done. Her yoga space transformed perfectly into a home jamming setup, with ample space for the crew and equipment.

...  the support of the hubby. Marlon massaged my feet after the shoot, treated me to a lovely dinner at Original Sin in Holland Village (I'm sure it was lovely, although I was so tired I can barely recall tasting anything), and even came over to lift heavy furniture and help dress up the set. James joked that next time we should introduce him as our art director.

More than anything, I'm thankful that it's done! A milestone in my career safely tucked into the folds of my experience. Now, on to the next!

Flip-flopping

Do we take it literally?! Haha!

I've been going back and forth (and back and forth... and then some) over a big work-related decision for the past month or two. My cycles alternate between Hmmm sige na nga and Pakshet #~$@&^%! And the cycling back and forth between the... er, cycles has gotten to almost manic-depressive levels lately.

I exaggerate of course. But it seems as if I change my mind on a day-to-day, and sometimes hour-to-hour basis. When I'm stressed I tend to swing one way, and when I'm rested I come wobbling back in the other direction. Victories at work both big (which I'll blog about this weekend - it must be celebrated!) and small buoy me up, but the weight of other, more consistent stresses at work almost immediately drag me down. Aggravation pulls me down one path, but worries about income and career (your recent posts are so in sync with my life, Pia! Friends talaga tayo!) anchor me in place.

Still, I trust that I'll make the right decision at the right time. My patient husband has played the dutiful therapist through all these mood swings, which I'm thankful for. His listening ear, warm hugs and quiet but unwavering support settles me when I'm most agitated and need to think clearly. And I discovered a prayer for discernment in a book of prayers my in-laws gave us for Christmas, reminding me that big decisions need the wisdom and guidance that escapes us mere mortals.

Wish me luck and pray for me please :)

Sniff

Okay we can't afford the house. Not by a long shot.

It's hard to say goodbye. :P

Survey

Question lang.

What's so great about Tumblr?

Am I a dinosaur for still being on Blogger?

Anong magandang audition song kung balak kong mag-choir ulit?

Zest Air will offer value flights from Singapore to Manila starting end of the month. Ok kaya flights nila? O scary patootsie ba?

What's good to shop for in KL aside from Vincci shoes?

Should I buy a new coffee maker even if we don't drink coffee at home that often?

This old house

I love old houses.

I love the kind that were built in the 50s and 60s, like our old house on Hydra Street in Bel-Air, with adobe walls, crazy-cut flooring, pendant lights and exposed beams.

Even though I am not wild about jalousie windows or solid wood-panelled walls, there is just something about these old houses that speaks to me. Yes, they might have termites or faulty plumbing or deteriorating kitchens, but they also have architectural details you just can't find anymore. They have a light, a kind of magic about them that you can't recreate these days. They remind me of my childhood.

Marlon knows about my love for old houses, but the thought of my... special "abilities", plus what could possibly be lurking in those old houses creeps him out. So he would rather go for a new house. Still, I am hopeful that if we could find the just right old house, I could convince him to go for a fixer-upper instead.

I recently learned about a lovely old house in Mandaluyong, built in the 60s, which used to belong to a person who was very dear to Marlon and myself (and instrumental in our having met at all!). I used to drive by it every day on the way to work and never knew it belonged to that person. It's been put on the market and when I saw the photos I couldn't help myself -- I inquired with the seller's agent.

I hope we can afford it. I would get over my aversion to long-term bank loans for this one. And besides, to assuage my husband's fears, I'm positive the former owner wouldn't be lurking around the house anymore. Heaven must have instantaneously feted her arrival with a sumptuous banquet.

Photo courtesy of M. Besa Roxas.

10 years ago I was 18

UPDATED: Now with pictures and a note on technology!

Maggie and Gutsy's forays into nostalgiatime made me realize, somewhat belatedly, that 2010 marks the passing of an entire decade. So I thought a look back at the Noughties (surely there is something better to call it?) was worth blogging about.

But as I have the awful habit of putting a favorite song on loop literally for years, thus preventing more current songs from penetrating my aural fog, I am not in the best position to make a playlist to commemorate the decade.

So let me just remember how it was 10 years ago, when I was 18.

10 years ago...

... I was a college freshman and my favorite class was English with Doreen Fernandez. I was just beginning to discover how much writing was a part of me, how happy I was doing it, and how good I could really be at it. Ten years later, it's become how I make a living and how I live.

... I was possessed by the terrifying belief that to lose myself in the delicious mindlessness of pleasure, I had to be very deeply in love. To my great relief, I learned that the two could exist independently, thereby leading to some very liberating but otherwise pointless and frustrating... er, adventures.

... I made a powerful choice to be happy, long before I knew I could make such powerful choices, which got me over the biggest heartbreak of my life. Thankfully, no other heartbreak has followed to date.

... I promised to be friends with my first love. We still are.

... I met the man whom I would marry. I never thought he would be the one.

... The singular point of my existence was making it on tour, getting to Europe and having a life-changing adventure. I was probably waiting for some European Lothario to sweep me off my feet, but the real life-changer was the friends I made in the process of making it on tour and singing my way through Europe.

... I fell in love with singing. And after years of being an alto, I became a soprano. Now that was life-changing!

... I was in Slovenia, among other places. And I was shocked to discover not everywhere in Europe was prettier/newer/better than the Philippines. Slovenia!!! How's that for somewhere you'll never be again.

 
Que horror! Ano ba yang bandanna efek? 

... Oh Lord! All my tour pictures were on film. Each roll of film cost roughly Php150 and about the same to develop. I had to really think about which pictures I wanted to take. I saved up for months to have all 18 rolls from the tour developed. In my mind, 10 years is not that long ago since the memories are amazingly fresh -- but looking at these film prints just makes it all seem prehistoric.

...  Speaking of pictures. The only person who had a digital camera back then was multibillionaire wonder boy and pawnshop heir Harvey Villarica. The resolution of this uber-expensive piece of technology was... ONE megapixel. Which meant he could develop them into prints about the size of a postage stamp (or, if you really wanna go back, Neoprint-size). We were all mystified the first time he showed it to us. "Harvey, what will you do with the pictures if you can't develop them?" my English block mates wondered. "Put them on the Internet," he shrugged. We just stared at him. "But... what for?" Ah, the dark ages.

... My family and I were struggling to make ends meet. There were days where I literally would have to scrounge up fifty pesos just to be able to go to school. Things are vastly improved now, to say the least.

... I shared a bedroom with my sister, with my mom in the next room. Today we live in three different cities -- Sta. Rosa, Kuala Lumpur and Singapore.

... I was at least 35 lbs lighter. This in spite of the fact that I would have a three-pack of Chips Ahoy or a chocolate bar everyday. Well at least now we know how I got to my present weight. Hah.

... And in spite of the fact that I was 35 lbs lighter, I absolutely did not take advantage of my skinny-ness and dressed like an eejit. My favorite outfit was flared jeans, black leather platforms from the mercato in Milan, a blouse and a Jansport backpack. Ngek. My second favorite outfit was army green cargo pants, a large t-shirt, and sneakers. Fug. This style of dressing created the impression that I was either butch (Marlon: "I thought you hated guys") or an athlete (Mags Imaizumi: "Oh aren't you on the soccer varsity? You dress like the type"). Go figure.

 I loved this butchy grey Esprit jacket to death. I wore it all over Europe 
with my passport, wallet, camera AND travel journal stuffed into my tummy pocket 
like a dumpy manang kangaroo. I even cried when it went missing. 

Now I wish I could reach into this photo and rip it off me. 
Mamatay na lang ako sa lamig.

... I was one, maybe two cup sizes smaller. I would gladly give back my boobs if I could also give back the rest of the poundage I've accumulated since then.

... I had virgin hair. (High school attempts to "dye" it with Kool-Aid do not count.) I had only just discovered how not to tweeze my eyebrows to invisibility. Upper lip waxing, moisturizer, eye cream and sunblock were not yet part of my beauty vocabulary. The only sunblock in my consciousness was Coppertone and you would never think of putting that gunk on your face if you weren't at the beach.

... I failed Math 12. Ten years later, does it matter? Hell no.

... Come to think of it, I can say with perfect honesty and zero regret that I once woke up to find myself in bed with my Math 12 teacher and his wife! (Be not alarmed: Lorna, Gerard and I were in the same Glee Club caroling group that year and we slept in the sofabed in Eunice's den after caroling in Alabang. I was sleeping next to Lorna, naturally. LOL!)

Two years ago

I was on honeymoon in India.

Ten days later, I landed in Singapore and started my new life as Marlon's wife.

Time flies.