why are psychotropic mushrooms and pot cookies soooooo fuckkkiiiiiiiiin GOOD?!? Sure themz give you the munchies but they woulda make your day so fuckin radddd. why I oughta?? be flyin with colleen radically day loooooong with this joint. gushbkgfoighrc!!! pass me the fuckin bluntzz. SMokin weeeeed all day....

next trimester will be, by far, the bloodiest. weed anyone?

Just got my Spring 2009 class schedule from a colleague. Just by looking at it, it feels like blowing my head with a revolver is better than seeing this.. or better yet going through with it?

Now anyone who tells me that I am way smart for being just a 'mere nurse'. (A mere nurse?! wtf!!!) *ehem* a big F-U to you. I'm only in my 3rd trimester, and I'm totally bleeding my brains out.

My former coursework (Eng'g Physics) was much much more intense than this. I'm really glad that I shifted.

On a more positive note, I got all A's (aha!) with all of my courses last trimester, YES -- that includes inorg.chem, integ.calc/diff.eq'tions and human anat/physiology. I'm gearing towards a near 3.9 GPA (yey!)

Hopefully I could pull all the strings for the next trim. Looks like my novel and blogging would be put unto hold. =(

I'm most probably going to say good-bye to this blog soon. I really can't put all my thoughts and ideas for a long time now and I feel that University work has been demanding more and more of my time and effort.

Might this be my last entry? sure it may be..as I highly perceive it.

But this definitely ain't no proper way of ending a dear blog....?

I will post and entry soon...... or not. Thanks for reading anyways.

I hope that in some way, I have positively inspired someone to start writing. I can't really explain how much fulfilling it is for someone to express their thoughts and ideas through the mighty pen, or in this case, through the aid of technology -- internet blogging. I've been blogging for six years now, as a start, mainly for some money. haha! (if you don't know how, just let me know, I'll tell you exactly the mechanics) of course, that time -- where I have the luxury of time in my hands.. Now time is telling me to "grow up" and be a full-time college kid. My heart will always be with writing, nonetheless, its just that I just could not devote my whole heart to it anymore as I used to....

My salute and full respect to all ya'll writers/bloggers/novelists out there!

I wish you all the best-est in life, keep your head up, smile!

Jessie.


what if tomorrow never comes?..in vox

life....appreciate!

Okay.. so I've just read and watched "The Curious case of Benjamin Button" by F. Scott Fitzgerald. It was a short story, kind of like "The Prince" with less than twenty five pages, but the movie starring Brad Pitt was like waaaay longer. They kind of like over-emphasized on some points. But honestly, both were good and very inspirational :) I would recommend reading the book first before watching the movie.

This brings me back to a blog entry I wrote when I was still in LJ. Just thought of re-posting it here :) Kind of like a similar theme and I would certainly know that it'll make you guys think..

Remember people, appreciate life more!!

Original entry: LJ Aug 26, 2007

This entry was inspired by the book “Way of the Peaceful Warrior” by Dan Millman, which I read about a week ago. This was supposed to be long overdue but due to our prelims week and my torture-master coach in UST, I was only able to finish the story just yesterday. Many of the ideas have been rattling around in my head for years, but the book helped me put it together. While the book itself is not a masterpiece, it is still very good and, more importantly, delivers an excellent, possibly life-changing message. I highly recommend it. It is a help-book by the way.

For those that came here expecting my normal humor-based fare, I promise I will return to immature bathroom jokes in my next writing effort. Anyway, Have a nice weekend and enjoy! =)

Time Machine. Wow.

Imagine that you are given the opportunity to enter a simulation program that allowed you to seemingly go back in time. You would be transferred into your young body during your senior year in high school, or possibly another time in your life you enjoyed. You wouldn’t actually be going back in time; since it’s a simulation, you could do anything you wanted without worrying about how it affects your future. You would be allowed in the program for one week.

What would you do?

Of course, the answers are individual to everyone. Hang out with some friends you’ve lost touch with. Enjoy the infamous La Salle Greenhills sisig from the cafeteria you liked and haven’t eaten in years. Play your heart out in band practice, as it’s the first time you’ve touched a drumstick since high school. Make sure to say “hi” and even hug that favorite teacher that actually passed away five years ago. Take in all the sights, sounds and smells of the Friday night gimiks. Drive around proudly in that piece of crap car you had that you now miss. Maybe even ask that guy or girl out that you never had the courage to way back when.

Now imagine that at the end of the week, the simulator made a mistake, and you were stuck in it another week, but in someone else’s life. The simulator made you a pastry chef in Paris, France circa 1950. You never had any desire to have such a vocation, but you have no choice: you have to remain there for a week and then the simulator would safely let you exit back to your normal life.

What would you do?

Again, the answers are individual, but certainly most people would make the best of it. Get up early, smell the Parisian air, make those delicious pastries, and serve the French customers. When you were finished with your workday, you’d go exploring old France! Walk the cobblestone streets, see the sites, drink at the pubs, and meet interesting French people. You’d take it all in before the week was over, possibly not wanting to leave. At the end, though, you would have to.

In both scenarios, you would make sure to enjoy every minute that you possibly could in the simulation. You know it is temporary, and there is no effect on the future, so you’d make sure to see every sight, hear every sound, and smell every scent.

Now ask yourself: do you put this much attention into enjoying the actual moments in your real life?

Why would you enjoy the high school simulation more than the moments when you were actually in high school? Did you take it for granted? Were you worried about achieving some future happiness instead? So many people put off being happy, or even paying attention to the moment they are in, for some perceived bliss in the future.

However, how many times do you reach a goal and find out it’s not all you thought it would be? Or perhaps it was, but you were too busy thinking about the next goal to pay attention? Are you actually living your life? Are you paying attention?

Every moment you have is precious. Even now, as you are reading this blog, amazing things are happening all around you. Maybe it is simply your young little brother is learning a new habit, or a bird laying eggs in its nest outside your window, or just light jazz playing on your stereo…but this moment is not ordinary. It is unique and will never ever happen again.

So what if you are not in high school anymore? So what if you can’t walk down cobblestone streets in Paris? When was the last time you took in the moments of your “right now”? When was the last time you took a walk down your own street?

In many ways, this life is like a simulation. We have no idea why we are here and why there are certain rules like gravity, respiration, fluid and thermal dynamics, and temporary existence. However, we have no choice but to live in this simulation, and therefore we should always make the absolute best of it. Stop stressing over some future plans for happiness. Start enjoying your life’s moments now!

Are you paying attention?

hitching the man stink.

updates:

been having a rad time in LA LA land.

Christmas with fambam. tho I don't get it why people call it "Xmas" I find it funny when I ask uberly religious people why it is referred to the former. my theology teacher in college (when I was still in the RP) gave me a retarded look with no benefit of a doubt when I asked her about it. So if anyone knows, what's up with the "x" anyway?

spent new year's eve with ... at Paris, France and watched CIRQUE DU SOLEIL!!!!! (will be posting pics soon)

ate my 4Th hamburger.

got the new neuma tattoo machine for work.

blogging has always been in default dope.. ehhh always was, always will.

I WISH YOU GUYS A PROSPEROUS 2009!!! I'm finally gonna be a sophomore..! ha!

"I am..." at iloveteddybears

----

So going on with the real post.. What do you do when a schoolmate who is asking for a ride on a regular basis smells like a decomposing body in an slaughterhouse?

I don't know what to do.

I know, I'm too stupid to tell her she reeks so I deserve her. But I can't just tell her that. Having an innocent conversation about a great new deodorant will not do the trick, as it is a multi-orifice issue. God, I would like to tell her that even though ladies in the Philippines are 100,000 x conservative peeps...at least they bathe as often as they could. Should I just go on and on about the various hygiene products on the market every time I pick her up, and hope that she'll take the hint?

I hate to admit it but yesterday as I was leaving school after clinicals I saw that she was calling me and I simply didn't answer the phone. I felt guilty about that all night, so when she called this morning I picked her up and now I'm sorry as fuck I did. I swear to Zeus and all the gods and planets of Greek mythology that it was longest ride in my life and I could hardly breathe the whole time. It was too chilly to open a window so I was driving with my face pointed 15 degrees to the left and taking shallow breaths. It was actually giving me a headache. When we got to Uni, in order to breathe ASAP, I avoided getting into the elevator with her and told her to go on ahead as I had to check something in my car. I hung around the car for 5 minutes to make sure that she wouldn't be still waiting for the elevator when I got there. Even though the parking space I found was near the garbage containers, breathing felt much more nicer.

Merry Christmas!

updates:

got a my 3rd tattoo. (On my upper left back: Philippians 4:13 "All things through Christ")

got an A in systemic physiology and microbiology and rasied my gpa to 3.877! i'm like 0.30 away from being in the president's list. (not to mention getting the car back from my sister.. and I'm getting tired being always in the honor roll anyways.. kidding!!!! that was sarcastic.)

I finally saw the Queen's buggy past birmingham road towards buckingham!!!

--

My apologies, It has been a really long time since I've sounded this blog. Much University work has been on its toll and working part-time at the shop has been keeping me really away from the computer these days. I finally get to cut a slack at this not so-much-two-week-rest before winter trimester starts.

So it is like a less than a week before Christimas day and it is freaaaaking chilly over here. Last time I checked it is about -2 C in midwest London. Goodness! It is about 4 C here in portsmouth and I really have to wear praka sweats and trijackets as I really do bad on the cold.

Anyway, just want to share a really nice family moment that happened during thanksgiving last month

Remember when you were growing up and your mom made a cake from scratch? The best part of the whole process wasn't the cake or even the icing. It was licking the bowl.

It's the simplest of pleasures sometimes that mean the most.

My sister and I used to take turns between licking the beaters and the bowl. If one got the bowl, the other got the beaters. The next time it switched. Chocolate cakes, pound cakes, lemon cakes. It didn't matter. Any cake batter would do.

So when my sister made a cake this past Thanksgiving, she was excited to let our cousin's sons to lick the bowl. She is by the way, not the greatest cook in the world, yes, she's a nurse, but unfortunately she can kick-judo my ass any day.

So the kids are four and six, that perfect age where the world is always right and licking sweet cake batter from a bowl is as good as it gets.

Andrew, the youngest, was in the kitchen when ate handed him the mixing bowl she'd just used to make a pumpkin cake. "You wanna lick the bowl?" she asked.

The bowl was bigger than Andrew's head and he held it with both of his tiny hands, looking up at my sister as if she'd spoken Greek. (The boy's mother, my cousin, is a chef and she later confessed that she always lets the boys lick the beaters. So licking the bowl itself was a foreign concept. It's my secret belief that she keeps the bowl for herself but she'll never admit to it.)

After Andrew stared at my sister for a few seconds, confusion clouding his face, she taught him how to lick the bowl: "Run your finger along the inside of the bowl, gathering as much of the cake goo as you can hold, then lick your finger. Repeat until clean"

Andrew understood immediately. In fact, he'd taken a few big swipes and sucked his finger clean before my mom told him to go share with his brother. Andrew's eyes lit up and he bounded off yelling Matty's name.

Andrew loves to share with Matty. I give that habit two more years.

My sister followed behind a little while later, just to make sure Andrew didn't find a nice quiet cubbyhole to get lost in. He is four after all.

She found them in the bathroom (of all places!) Andrew was standing patiently awaiting his turn as Matty licked the bowl. Literally.

My sister stood in the doorway, hand covering her smile, and watched as Matty grasped the mixing bowl with both hands and lifted it to his face. He bobbed his head up and down, in and out, as he "licked the bowl."

"Matty," ate said, trying not to laugh out loud.

Matty raised his face and looked at my mom with his big brown eyes. His nose and chin were spotted with cake batter. There was some in his hair. It was the Kodak moment of all time.

It was really cute.


Merry Christmas!

updates. public bathrooms. sweet nostalgia. the most disturbing video ever

Updates have been slow in coming as I seem to have thrown all of my energy into University work these days. It’s addictive in a way that no drug really is. (wtf? can't believe I just wrote that. jesma, you f*ckin nerd!) I’ve also been writing my novel for most of the time now plus there’s nothing like working with fellow ink artists at the shop…especially in an environment where you can ask a 30 something year old man if he’s ever shaved his balls and no one looks at you like you’re an asshole. It’s actually expected. (I asked him, because he wants his ink below his navel; now don't get those homo ideas flying, buddy)

But don’t think I’ve forgotten about you mr. internet; you’re my first true love. What with your ample supply of torrents, your never-ending pool of porno and your non-stop thirst for entertainment.

Anyway, just want to throw random stuff here. (for the sake of updating my poor forsaken blog)

Do public restrooms piss you off?

It does to me.

A bathroom, to me, is a sanctuary. It's a place of solitude, a place of quite, a place for reflection, a place of relief. My best thinking is usually done one the can as I'm squeezing one out (I expect some shit head jokes. Go ahead, get it out of your system.)

In other words, for me a good trip to the bathroom is like a mini vacation. I can go in stressed and angry and come out happy and relaxed.

Because I place such high stock in bathrooms, public bathrooms are extra offensive to me.

I hate public bathrooms.

The Smell -- When you walk into a bathroom, it should smell clean, airy and inviting. At best, public bathrooms smell like urine. At worst, some asshole sasquatch is grunting out a chocolate mud baby that smells like it crawled up there and died - three weeks ago.

The sounds -- Bathrooms are not meeting places. Bathrooms are for expelling wastes. Take your overly loud animated conversation outside. Now. Also, I realize that the bathroom is the best, and only place to make dookie (unless you're camping, where you MUST dig a hole, as shit does roll downhill). Regardless, would you please, PLEASE get more fibre in your diet or something? Machine gun flatulence is funny ONLY outside of my fortress of solitude. And that disgusting wet runny shotgun bum blast? Yea, that's what I want to hear on relaxation time. If you have a loud bum, buy an ass muffler, ok?

The Sights -- We're all adults, right? Which means we should all know what goes where. Why are there piles of shredded paper towel under the dispenser? Pull some out, use it, put it in the garbage. It's that simple. If your home looks like that too, you're a f*cking pig and should be hurt.

Some people must be balding - DOWN THERE. I had no idea that pubic hair shed so much and so fast. Seriously. With all the short curlies strewn about, you'd think that somebody was trying to grow a pubic chia pet or something.

People, when you shart, do at least one courtesy flush. A giant bum pow not only sounds nasty, it looks like somebody loaded a shotgun with poo and unloaded a few rounds on the back of the bowl. I don't want ANY part of my body that close to poo, that's just sick.

Also, the toilet has a flush lever for a purpose - to take your waste away. USE IT. When I see what looks like month old catfood and paper mixed with corn floating around the bowl, it makes me want to vomit.

If you INSIST on peeing in the poo bowl instead of the urinal, have some bloody respect and don't pee on the rim. I want to sit in urine almost as much as I want to sit on a cactus. If I ever catch somebody getting urine on the bowl, I WILL make them lick it up. Pricks.

If I ever rule the world, you can be sure that public rest rooms will be cleaner, safer, and more inviting places.

=D

Just want to share with you folks videos I randomly saw on youtube,

Anyone who spent their childhood in the Philippines should know this.



This is sweeeeet nostalgia for me. Go Gundam Deathscythe!


And eew?



Seems like baby "pi-pi" here has loads of testosterone even at a young age. imagine a tingly appendage for a toddler! that's child molestation for ya'll!

europeans scare the hell out of me.

Low B means NO CAR

"Jessie, you're already nineteen. When would you ever grow up?...I'm tired of this college-rebel(?) bullshit. Suck it up, You're in a country where people wake up 4:30 in the morning everyday (this is so true). Don't compensate your high GPA with a low one... I'll take your keys."

"But, ATTTEEEE....!?"

"No BUTS. Remember our deal? Well, congratu-fuckin-lations, you just lost your car. You're not a Lasalista anymore, no need to impress girls; snap out of it will you? And besides, I'm willing to drive you around, doesn't bother me."


What a sucker.

Is a low B in Biostat that low? Dude, I'ved worked my ass all trimester long just to pull up a B. No one in the class even got close to a high B! Getting an A in that fucked up class of 340 students is nothing short of a insurmountable feat.

What the fuck being a "lasalista" have to do with a car? I do not even disclose myself to that overrated label anymore.

How I wish I can answer her back.

Big sisters are pain in the ass.

why are psychotropic mushrooms and pot cookies soooooo fuckkkiiiiiiiiin GOOD?!? Sure themz give you the munchies but they woulda make your day so fuckin radddd. why I oughta?? be flyin with colleen radically day loooooong with this joint. gushbkgfoighrc!!! pass me the fuckin bluntzz. SMokin weeeeed all day....

c

next trimester will be, by far, the bloodiest. weed anyone?

Just got my Spring 2009 class schedule from a colleague. Just by looking at it, it feels like blowing my head with a revolver is better than seeing this.. or better yet going through with it?

Now anyone who tells me that I am way smart for being just a 'mere nurse'. (A mere nurse?! wtf!!!) *ehem* a big F-U to you. I'm only in my 3rd trimester, and I'm totally bleeding my brains out.

My former coursework (Eng'g Physics) was much much more intense than this. I'm really glad that I shifted.

On a more positive note, I got all A's (aha!) with all of my courses last trimester, YES -- that includes inorg.chem, integ.calc/diff.eq'tions and human anat/physiology. I'm gearing towards a near 3.9 GPA (yey!)

Hopefully I could pull all the strings for the next trim. Looks like my novel and blogging would be put unto hold. =(

I'm most probably going to say good-bye to this blog soon. I really can't put all my thoughts and ideas for a long time now and I feel that University work has been demanding more and more of my time and effort.

Might this be my last entry? sure it may be..as I highly perceive it.

But this definitely ain't no proper way of ending a dear blog....?

I will post and entry soon...... or not. Thanks for reading anyways.

I hope that in some way, I have positively inspired someone to start writing. I can't really explain how much fulfilling it is for someone to express their thoughts and ideas through the mighty pen, or in this case, through the aid of technology -- internet blogging. I've been blogging for six years now, as a start, mainly for some money. haha! (if you don't know how, just let me know, I'll tell you exactly the mechanics) of course, that time -- where I have the luxury of time in my hands.. Now time is telling me to "grow up" and be a full-time college kid. My heart will always be with writing, nonetheless, its just that I just could not devote my whole heart to it anymore as I used to....

My salute and full respect to all ya'll writers/bloggers/novelists out there!

I wish you all the best-est in life, keep your head up, smile!

Jessie.


what if tomorrow never comes?..in vox

c

life....appreciate!

Okay.. so I've just read and watched "The Curious case of Benjamin Button" by F. Scott Fitzgerald. It was a short story, kind of like "The Prince" with less than twenty five pages, but the movie starring Brad Pitt was like waaaay longer. They kind of like over-emphasized on some points. But honestly, both were good and very inspirational :) I would recommend reading the book first before watching the movie.

This brings me back to a blog entry I wrote when I was still in LJ. Just thought of re-posting it here :) Kind of like a similar theme and I would certainly know that it'll make you guys think..

Remember people, appreciate life more!!

Original entry: LJ Aug 26, 2007

This entry was inspired by the book “Way of the Peaceful Warrior” by Dan Millman, which I read about a week ago. This was supposed to be long overdue but due to our prelims week and my torture-master coach in UST, I was only able to finish the story just yesterday. Many of the ideas have been rattling around in my head for years, but the book helped me put it together. While the book itself is not a masterpiece, it is still very good and, more importantly, delivers an excellent, possibly life-changing message. I highly recommend it. It is a help-book by the way.

For those that came here expecting my normal humor-based fare, I promise I will return to immature bathroom jokes in my next writing effort. Anyway, Have a nice weekend and enjoy! =)

Time Machine. Wow.

Imagine that you are given the opportunity to enter a simulation program that allowed you to seemingly go back in time. You would be transferred into your young body during your senior year in high school, or possibly another time in your life you enjoyed. You wouldn’t actually be going back in time; since it’s a simulation, you could do anything you wanted without worrying about how it affects your future. You would be allowed in the program for one week.

What would you do?

Of course, the answers are individual to everyone. Hang out with some friends you’ve lost touch with. Enjoy the infamous La Salle Greenhills sisig from the cafeteria you liked and haven’t eaten in years. Play your heart out in band practice, as it’s the first time you’ve touched a drumstick since high school. Make sure to say “hi” and even hug that favorite teacher that actually passed away five years ago. Take in all the sights, sounds and smells of the Friday night gimiks. Drive around proudly in that piece of crap car you had that you now miss. Maybe even ask that guy or girl out that you never had the courage to way back when.

Now imagine that at the end of the week, the simulator made a mistake, and you were stuck in it another week, but in someone else’s life. The simulator made you a pastry chef in Paris, France circa 1950. You never had any desire to have such a vocation, but you have no choice: you have to remain there for a week and then the simulator would safely let you exit back to your normal life.

What would you do?

Again, the answers are individual, but certainly most people would make the best of it. Get up early, smell the Parisian air, make those delicious pastries, and serve the French customers. When you were finished with your workday, you’d go exploring old France! Walk the cobblestone streets, see the sites, drink at the pubs, and meet interesting French people. You’d take it all in before the week was over, possibly not wanting to leave. At the end, though, you would have to.

In both scenarios, you would make sure to enjoy every minute that you possibly could in the simulation. You know it is temporary, and there is no effect on the future, so you’d make sure to see every sight, hear every sound, and smell every scent.

Now ask yourself: do you put this much attention into enjoying the actual moments in your real life?

Why would you enjoy the high school simulation more than the moments when you were actually in high school? Did you take it for granted? Were you worried about achieving some future happiness instead? So many people put off being happy, or even paying attention to the moment they are in, for some perceived bliss in the future.

However, how many times do you reach a goal and find out it’s not all you thought it would be? Or perhaps it was, but you were too busy thinking about the next goal to pay attention? Are you actually living your life? Are you paying attention?

Every moment you have is precious. Even now, as you are reading this blog, amazing things are happening all around you. Maybe it is simply your young little brother is learning a new habit, or a bird laying eggs in its nest outside your window, or just light jazz playing on your stereo…but this moment is not ordinary. It is unique and will never ever happen again.

So what if you are not in high school anymore? So what if you can’t walk down cobblestone streets in Paris? When was the last time you took in the moments of your “right now”? When was the last time you took a walk down your own street?

In many ways, this life is like a simulation. We have no idea why we are here and why there are certain rules like gravity, respiration, fluid and thermal dynamics, and temporary existence. However, we have no choice but to live in this simulation, and therefore we should always make the absolute best of it. Stop stressing over some future plans for happiness. Start enjoying your life’s moments now!

Are you paying attention?

c

hitching the man stink.

updates:

been having a rad time in LA LA land.

Christmas with fambam. tho I don't get it why people call it "Xmas" I find it funny when I ask uberly religious people why it is referred to the former. my theology teacher in college (when I was still in the RP) gave me a retarded look with no benefit of a doubt when I asked her about it. So if anyone knows, what's up with the "x" anyway?

spent new year's eve with ... at Paris, France and watched CIRQUE DU SOLEIL!!!!! (will be posting pics soon)

ate my 4Th hamburger.

got the new neuma tattoo machine for work.

blogging has always been in default dope.. ehhh always was, always will.

I WISH YOU GUYS A PROSPEROUS 2009!!! I'm finally gonna be a sophomore..! ha!

"I am..." at iloveteddybears

----

So going on with the real post.. What do you do when a schoolmate who is asking for a ride on a regular basis smells like a decomposing body in an slaughterhouse?

I don't know what to do.

I know, I'm too stupid to tell her she reeks so I deserve her. But I can't just tell her that. Having an innocent conversation about a great new deodorant will not do the trick, as it is a multi-orifice issue. God, I would like to tell her that even though ladies in the Philippines are 100,000 x conservative peeps...at least they bathe as often as they could. Should I just go on and on about the various hygiene products on the market every time I pick her up, and hope that she'll take the hint?

I hate to admit it but yesterday as I was leaving school after clinicals I saw that she was calling me and I simply didn't answer the phone. I felt guilty about that all night, so when she called this morning I picked her up and now I'm sorry as fuck I did. I swear to Zeus and all the gods and planets of Greek mythology that it was longest ride in my life and I could hardly breathe the whole time. It was too chilly to open a window so I was driving with my face pointed 15 degrees to the left and taking shallow breaths. It was actually giving me a headache. When we got to Uni, in order to breathe ASAP, I avoided getting into the elevator with her and told her to go on ahead as I had to check something in my car. I hung around the car for 5 minutes to make sure that she wouldn't be still waiting for the elevator when I got there. Even though the parking space I found was near the garbage containers, breathing felt much more nicer.

c

Merry Christmas!

updates:

got a my 3rd tattoo. (On my upper left back: Philippians 4:13 "All things through Christ")

got an A in systemic physiology and microbiology and rasied my gpa to 3.877! i'm like 0.30 away from being in the president's list. (not to mention getting the car back from my sister.. and I'm getting tired being always in the honor roll anyways.. kidding!!!! that was sarcastic.)

I finally saw the Queen's buggy past birmingham road towards buckingham!!!

--

My apologies, It has been a really long time since I've sounded this blog. Much University work has been on its toll and working part-time at the shop has been keeping me really away from the computer these days. I finally get to cut a slack at this not so-much-two-week-rest before winter trimester starts.

So it is like a less than a week before Christimas day and it is freaaaaking chilly over here. Last time I checked it is about -2 C in midwest London. Goodness! It is about 4 C here in portsmouth and I really have to wear praka sweats and trijackets as I really do bad on the cold.

Anyway, just want to share a really nice family moment that happened during thanksgiving last month

Remember when you were growing up and your mom made a cake from scratch? The best part of the whole process wasn't the cake or even the icing. It was licking the bowl.

It's the simplest of pleasures sometimes that mean the most.

My sister and I used to take turns between licking the beaters and the bowl. If one got the bowl, the other got the beaters. The next time it switched. Chocolate cakes, pound cakes, lemon cakes. It didn't matter. Any cake batter would do.

So when my sister made a cake this past Thanksgiving, she was excited to let our cousin's sons to lick the bowl. She is by the way, not the greatest cook in the world, yes, she's a nurse, but unfortunately she can kick-judo my ass any day.

So the kids are four and six, that perfect age where the world is always right and licking sweet cake batter from a bowl is as good as it gets.

Andrew, the youngest, was in the kitchen when ate handed him the mixing bowl she'd just used to make a pumpkin cake. "You wanna lick the bowl?" she asked.

The bowl was bigger than Andrew's head and he held it with both of his tiny hands, looking up at my sister as if she'd spoken Greek. (The boy's mother, my cousin, is a chef and she later confessed that she always lets the boys lick the beaters. So licking the bowl itself was a foreign concept. It's my secret belief that she keeps the bowl for herself but she'll never admit to it.)

After Andrew stared at my sister for a few seconds, confusion clouding his face, she taught him how to lick the bowl: "Run your finger along the inside of the bowl, gathering as much of the cake goo as you can hold, then lick your finger. Repeat until clean"

Andrew understood immediately. In fact, he'd taken a few big swipes and sucked his finger clean before my mom told him to go share with his brother. Andrew's eyes lit up and he bounded off yelling Matty's name.

Andrew loves to share with Matty. I give that habit two more years.

My sister followed behind a little while later, just to make sure Andrew didn't find a nice quiet cubbyhole to get lost in. He is four after all.

She found them in the bathroom (of all places!) Andrew was standing patiently awaiting his turn as Matty licked the bowl. Literally.

My sister stood in the doorway, hand covering her smile, and watched as Matty grasped the mixing bowl with both hands and lifted it to his face. He bobbed his head up and down, in and out, as he "licked the bowl."

"Matty," ate said, trying not to laugh out loud.

Matty raised his face and looked at my mom with his big brown eyes. His nose and chin were spotted with cake batter. There was some in his hair. It was the Kodak moment of all time.

It was really cute.


Merry Christmas!

c

updates. public bathrooms. sweet nostalgia. the most disturbing video ever

Updates have been slow in coming as I seem to have thrown all of my energy into University work these days. It’s addictive in a way that no drug really is. (wtf? can't believe I just wrote that. jesma, you f*ckin nerd!) I’ve also been writing my novel for most of the time now plus there’s nothing like working with fellow ink artists at the shop…especially in an environment where you can ask a 30 something year old man if he’s ever shaved his balls and no one looks at you like you’re an asshole. It’s actually expected. (I asked him, because he wants his ink below his navel; now don't get those homo ideas flying, buddy)

But don’t think I’ve forgotten about you mr. internet; you’re my first true love. What with your ample supply of torrents, your never-ending pool of porno and your non-stop thirst for entertainment.

Anyway, just want to throw random stuff here. (for the sake of updating my poor forsaken blog)

Do public restrooms piss you off?

It does to me.

A bathroom, to me, is a sanctuary. It's a place of solitude, a place of quite, a place for reflection, a place of relief. My best thinking is usually done one the can as I'm squeezing one out (I expect some shit head jokes. Go ahead, get it out of your system.)

In other words, for me a good trip to the bathroom is like a mini vacation. I can go in stressed and angry and come out happy and relaxed.

Because I place such high stock in bathrooms, public bathrooms are extra offensive to me.

I hate public bathrooms.

The Smell -- When you walk into a bathroom, it should smell clean, airy and inviting. At best, public bathrooms smell like urine. At worst, some asshole sasquatch is grunting out a chocolate mud baby that smells like it crawled up there and died - three weeks ago.

The sounds -- Bathrooms are not meeting places. Bathrooms are for expelling wastes. Take your overly loud animated conversation outside. Now. Also, I realize that the bathroom is the best, and only place to make dookie (unless you're camping, where you MUST dig a hole, as shit does roll downhill). Regardless, would you please, PLEASE get more fibre in your diet or something? Machine gun flatulence is funny ONLY outside of my fortress of solitude. And that disgusting wet runny shotgun bum blast? Yea, that's what I want to hear on relaxation time. If you have a loud bum, buy an ass muffler, ok?

The Sights -- We're all adults, right? Which means we should all know what goes where. Why are there piles of shredded paper towel under the dispenser? Pull some out, use it, put it in the garbage. It's that simple. If your home looks like that too, you're a f*cking pig and should be hurt.

Some people must be balding - DOWN THERE. I had no idea that pubic hair shed so much and so fast. Seriously. With all the short curlies strewn about, you'd think that somebody was trying to grow a pubic chia pet or something.

People, when you shart, do at least one courtesy flush. A giant bum pow not only sounds nasty, it looks like somebody loaded a shotgun with poo and unloaded a few rounds on the back of the bowl. I don't want ANY part of my body that close to poo, that's just sick.

Also, the toilet has a flush lever for a purpose - to take your waste away. USE IT. When I see what looks like month old catfood and paper mixed with corn floating around the bowl, it makes me want to vomit.

If you INSIST on peeing in the poo bowl instead of the urinal, have some bloody respect and don't pee on the rim. I want to sit in urine almost as much as I want to sit on a cactus. If I ever catch somebody getting urine on the bowl, I WILL make them lick it up. Pricks.

If I ever rule the world, you can be sure that public rest rooms will be cleaner, safer, and more inviting places.

=D

Just want to share with you folks videos I randomly saw on youtube,

Anyone who spent their childhood in the Philippines should know this.



This is sweeeeet nostalgia for me. Go Gundam Deathscythe!


And eew?



Seems like baby "pi-pi" here has loads of testosterone even at a young age. imagine a tingly appendage for a toddler! that's child molestation for ya'll!

europeans scare the hell out of me.

c

Low B means NO CAR

"Jessie, you're already nineteen. When would you ever grow up?...I'm tired of this college-rebel(?) bullshit. Suck it up, You're in a country where people wake up 4:30 in the morning everyday (this is so true). Don't compensate your high GPA with a low one... I'll take your keys."

"But, ATTTEEEE....!?"

"No BUTS. Remember our deal? Well, congratu-fuckin-lations, you just lost your car. You're not a Lasalista anymore, no need to impress girls; snap out of it will you? And besides, I'm willing to drive you around, doesn't bother me."


What a sucker.

Is a low B in Biostat that low? Dude, I'ved worked my ass all trimester long just to pull up a B. No one in the class even got close to a high B! Getting an A in that fucked up class of 340 students is nothing short of a insurmountable feat.

What the fuck being a "lasalista" have to do with a car? I do not even disclose myself to that overrated label anymore.

How I wish I can answer her back.

Big sisters are pain in the ass.

c