soreness, all over

The arms are sore. Playing badminton last Saturday after a month of inactivity, and playing with Coach Graze and Wonderkid Toni of all people--that's a surefire way to get your body all aching. Almost pulled a hamstring running around, but fortunately, the legs are in better shape. The arms and wrist took the brunt of the trauma (okay, okay, so I didn't s-t-r-e-t-c-h for the requisite fifteen to twenty minutes). But it was a whole lot of fun. Dang this work, nakakasira ng badminton.

The back was sore last Sunday, because I had fallen asleep on Bespren J's couch. We came from zeester#1's boyfriend's birthday at Grilla, where I saw little girl in heavy makeup Heart Evangelista, wandering all over in search of a spot to take her phone call. I wanted to go up to her and say, dear, it's noisy everywhere here, you might want to go outside. We old fogies left early, took out tea from Starbucks (old fogies talaga!) and chatted away at Bespren J's house, where we watched the Kontrobersyal (?) feature on the internet-sex den, and then tried to wait up for the replay of Coupling, in vain. I had to go home before I was too sleepy to drive.

The wallet is sore. Dang that Midnight Madness sale! Bought new cross-trainers (20% off, in the darnedest place, Cinderella), new bedsheets (30% off, at Woman; since zeester#1 was complaining that one of my sets was icky) and Christmas gifts. Why do I have to love giving Christmas gifts? Why do I have so many godchildren? Why, why, why?

The stomach is sore. Lots of cake, lots of crabs (as in the shellfish kind). Not a good combination. The mother-unit's birthday gig was at Red Crab, with the daughters, the hoping-to-be-future-sons-in-law (none with me), and the adopted sons. Was fun eating with your hands, although it was really really messy. And it was really good barbecue crab, mind you.

Am a little sore that I just got to watch The Incredibles last Sunday night. As J. texted, I "usually watch those stuff waaay before everyone else". Well, not this time. Bespren M and Kalila were chattering happily away about Violet and Dash last week at the baby shower. Oh well. I finally got to watch it. Was quite entertained, although it was no Finding Nemo. Still, I would get a DVD. At the same time, I was wondering what the heck I was doing there with that specific person. Was it a regular movie-date (which it was not, not really)? Was it a pity-date (on whose side, I wonder)? Was it really just two friends going out for a movie? Yes, it was that. At this point I don't want to think it was anything more.

And finally am a little sore at J. I'm not sure if he's avoiding me, or if he's really just super-duper-busy (which I think he is, also--although I am a proponent of the make-time-for-your-friends school of thought). Maybe it's really just a matter of wrong timing. In any case, I don't think I'll be dropping him a line anytime soon.

Last Song Syndrome : Limp - Fiona Apple

announcing ali

Bespren D will be giving birth to little Ali (short for Alejandro) sometime in late January. The Glider girls had a baby shower for her last Sunday. Amidst the booties, receiving blankets, and other baby paraphernalia, there was also a "surprise" from the AlphaDog (Mr. D), because he's in the US right now far away from gestating D. He had me buy flowers for her, and then we set up an internet chat, despite the fact that it was early morning in NY.

The expectant mother was teary-eyed and all; and it didn't help that she got a call to go to work on a Sunday evening. Feck. Oh well.

-oOo-

I broke a little Ugu Bigyan urn over at Tita X's during the baby shower, clumsy me. Of course, before that, I stepped on Tita X's well-manicured and exposed-in-tsinelas toes. I felt like such an oaf (and being overweight did not help). Fie upon me! Now I have to find a little Ugu Bigyan urn/vase to replace it. Help?


-oOo-

Not schadenfreude:
One of our officemates died of lung cancer early this morning. She was 39. Thirty-nine freaking years old! It's absolutely sad, because she just gave birth to a little boy. Actually she was diagnosed with the cancer during her last trimester of pregnancy. Sometimes things just really suck. And you wonder how there can be a silver lining for something like this.

-oOo-

Happy Birthday, magnifique_f8h!

Last Song Syndrome : You Make Me Wanna... - Usher

on user docs, hot mamas, ratios and airports

I am currently preparing user documentation for a training session this Saturday. This is one of the most boring tasks in my entire job description here at StingyCo. Granted, I've been used to preparing reference materials when I was teaching, but this is different. I can't inject any humor, and I have to follow a certain template. It's almost mechanical, if I didn't have to think about the various fields. My job isn't particularly enjoyable as it is, and this is one of the least likable aspects. Oh well. Compensation has to come from somewhere...

Hot Mama Anj has given birth to her third supling, Anthony, named after her father. Of course, from her picture a days after giving birth, it looks like she's much thinner than me again. Feh. I'm fatter than a mother of three. I'm looking forward to going to Bacolod to be with her, maybe if they push through with moving the November 30 holiday to November 29.

Anj, Del, Bespren J and I have been through a lot together, since second year high school. Bespren J and I were old friends, since third grade, but during freshman year I was much closer to Bads, May, Lene (+) and Gail. I went through a whole pop-kid phase and I even wrote Bespren M a letter telling her that we weren't best friends so she should stop thinking that. What a biatch. And then, out of nowhere, Bads joined up with the real "power" group, May, Lene and Gail booted me out, and I sought comfort in Char's friendship, which was then miscontrued as a lesbian relationship (!). [Apparently, my relationships -imagined, by others- were grist for the rumor mill, including that one with Char, and another with our NatSci teacher.] On the first day of class of sophomore year, I didn't even know where to go for lunch. I think it was Anj and Bespren J who asked me where I was eating (or something) and the rest was history.

Through the years we realized we were usually in a ratio of 2:2. For example, Bespren J and Anj were the varsity players; while Del and I were the writers. Anj and Del used the St. Michael socks with the heart design, while Bespren J and I used the socks with the little parallel lines. Two of us would get singkamas with bagoong from outside gate 6, while the other two would get mangga. Hence, we called our barkada (clique) Ratio, to set ourselves apart from Fuji, or the Circle of 26, or even Rubber Band. Whether it was a ratio of 2:2 or 3:1, we were Ratio. We became each others' confidantes, sounding boards, bridesmaids, kumares.

It continues--Anj and Del are now married, while Bespren J and I are boyfriendless. (Shite.) Anj, however, is the only one with kids, and it seems that she's having enough kids for all of us. Last time I met up with her at her parents' house, I was the one who got tired for her--7 months pregnant and taking care of two toddlers. Beautiful children, though. So there. Del has to have kids to make it a ratio. Unfortunately for little Anthony though, Bespren J and I are already godmothers to Wills, Anj's eldest, while Del is godmother to her second, pretty Justine. No more Ratio godmother for him. We'll surely smother him with kisses, though. Teehee. These are good friends, these friends I've kept. Together with Bespren M, Bespren D, the Gelpren, and Piaya, these are my support group, a family away from family.


At the Centennial airport, while waiting to board. Waiting at airports while pumped with Bonamine makes you think strange things.

-oOo-

Birthday good-vibes to gamhanan. Have a great one!

Last Song Syndrome : Don't Let the Sun Catch You Crying - Bob Marley

life blogger

nicked from new QA Manager gamhanan:

You Are a Life Blogger!

Your blog is the story of your life - a living diary. If it happens, you blog it. And make it as entertaining as possible.

What kind of blogger are you?

Since I'm not at full-blast yet after the short vacation. Maybe tomorrow.

Last Song Syndrome : The Mystic's Dream - Loreena McKennitt

flowers for mamang

Flowers for Mamang, originally uploaded by brightblade.

I must commend the mother-unit's practical creativity. This flower arrangement we placed on Mamang and Papang's grave was made out of flowers from the market, sinamay from a bouquet that zeester#1 received from the boyfriend, leftover ribbon, and a Selecta half-gallon tin. Purty, no?

I understand the need for a more practical approach to this; after all, it seems that the minute you leave the flowers at the grave, little kids scurry over to scavenge them (at least in our part of the Sucat burial grounds), and flowers are oturageously priced at this time of year. Besides, Mamang and Papang were simple and practical people and I believe they would have appreciated this.

Of course, things are different in the province, where there is a mausoleum for my Lolo and Lola and a modicum of flair must be maintained (or so the relatives think, because the Lolo was one of the town's founding fathers). I believe the mausoleum is repainted every other year; and my parents spend more than a month's worth of groceries on maintenance each year. Oh well. I've been to Mamang and Papang's simple grave every year since 1978. I've only visited Lolo and Lola's tomb twice. Ever.

said the alligator king to his seven sons...

A few weeks ago, Bespren J and I were "serenaded" by DaMike with this song at a Greenwich near the baywalk, at about 11pm. I remember the cartoon that accompanied this song quite vividly, along with Wanda, the Wicked Witch, Sammy the Snake, and the lowercase n who was longely on a hilltop. This is what I grew up with; this has helped shaped the person that I am. Generations after us were weaned on Batibot, and then later, Barney, Blue's Clues, and the latest, Dora. Sesame Street remains to be one of the best teachers I had, teaching me everything from counting up to cooperation.

DaMike knows this song by heart. Teehee. The guy will probably make a great dad.

One two three four five six seven!
Said the Alligator King to his seven sons,
"I'm feelin' mighty down.
Whichever of you can cheer me up
Will get to wear my crown."

His first son brought seven oyster pearls
From the bottom of the China Sea.

The second gave him seven statues of girls
With clocks where their stomachs should be.

The third son gave him seven rubies
From the sheikdom Down There Beneath.
The King thought the rubies were cherries,
And he broke off seven of his teeth.

The fourth son tried to cheer him up
With seven lemon drops.
The King said, "I'm sorry son,
Since that ruby episode, I just haven't got the chops."

The fifth son brought the King perfume
In seven fancy silver jars;
The King took a whiff, and he broke out in spots
'Cause it smelled like cheap cigars.

The sixth son gave him seven diamond rings
To wear upon his toes.
The King snagged his foot on the royal red rug
And crumpled up his nose.

The seventh son of the Alligator King
Was a thoughtful little whelp.
He said, "Daddy, appears to me
That you could use a little help."

Said the Alligator King to his seventh son,
"My son, you win the crown.
You didn't bring me diamonds or rubies, but
You helped me up when I was down.
Take the crown; it's yours, my son.
I hope you don't mind the dents.
I got it on sale at a discount store-
Cost me all of seven cents!"
Seven!

some kind of inferno

Since I'm not back to regular blogging yet, here's the result of a hell-raising test. Got this from sunshine.

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished me to the Third Level of Hell!
Here is how I matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Moderate
Level 2 (Lustful)	Moderate
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Very Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Moderate
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very Low
Level 7 (Violent)	Moderate
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Low

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

Last Song Syndrome : Incubus - Like A Virgin (thanks librarianjessie!)