Friday, January 30, 2009
From left to right: grilled pork and fish; raw milk fish (kinilaw na bangus) with vinegar, cucumber and coconut milk; and sauteed prawns with real pineapple.
It's my **th birthday. Had a perfect lunch as usual (everything seems perfect with my perfect family). Went to the market in the morning, pressed about 10 kinds of fish with my pointing finger, hoping chances to land on firm ones. Not really good in identifying a real fresh fish but I rely on my perfect instincts. Another self-proclaimed crazy perfect talent. Bought three kinds of really big, pricey fishes. White squids, as big as my forearm, caught my eyes. Pressed the squids still with my index finger, unbeknownst to the woman selling them. I purchased one rounded and firm squid with eyeballs like they had exopthalmus. My brother, the Gourmet number 2, told me that a flattened squid is not fresh. Got astonished at the site of six huge prawns immersed in a basin half-filled with water. Bought all of them.
At lunch, we had ice-cold beer, and the foods were placed over dishes covered with banana leaf. A perfect presentation. Courtesy of Gourmet number 2.
Fifty People, One Question: London from Crush + Lovely on Vimeo.
Love this video so much. Goosebumps, euphoria, this really moves me. When I was 16 years old, I saw the movie Reality Bites. That changed some of my wishes in life. When Winona Ryder and Ethan Hawke had coffee and a really nice conversation in Central Park New York, I told my friends, "When I get to New York, I'd go to Central Park on a summer or spring season, sit on the bench with my legs crossed, sip a $1 coffee like Winona's and read a newspaper." (I was already smoking then in high school; I'd had Philip Morris and Hope Menthol 100s interchangeably, not really knowing the difference) But right now, I really don't know where would I want to be when I wake up.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Click on the image to view in high resolution. (From left to right: (top)chopped onions, ripe tomatoes soaked in soy sauce with fresh lemon; (bottom)flour coated, crispy-fried young mackerels, about 2 to 3 inches; finely-chopped bamboo shoot with jute or saluyot, coconut milk and mushroom; and fresh pineapple shake garnished with real pineapple.
I'd smile and laugh at myself when I think of my happy, and perfect family. Unarguably, mine is a very functional family, with each member an absolute "happy heart". My mother would gently yell and gingerly stare at me if I show languidness towards a happy lunch, though I've had three pieces of bread with peanut butter at 11 a.m. Lunch is basically past 1200 hours, just in time when older brother arrives from work. I'd sit on the dining table- prayer is murmured by anybody- and say "Amen" in chorus.
It's salty. You must be living by the sea.
The okra looks pale.
The fish isn't fresh.
What a hard meat. This pig must be 10 years old!
We need Pepsi. Don't forget the ice. (Despite the presence of iced-tea)
Not hot enough, more chili please.
We speak at mealtimes like gastronomists, assert suggestions like a gourmet does. We don't even have oven at home (ha ha!). If you did the cooking, expect to hear corrections, suggestions and, however, motivation.
We have another set of perfect lunch as shown in the image above. I so love the crispy-fried mackerel. And they're fresh.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
A beautiful, sad, melancholic song by the Counting Crows. This song put me on tears.
People just so love harmony and tranquility. This song is about being who you're not. Why would one do so Daddy? To please anybody honey, to be likable, or maybe you're just so fucking good that you live according to their desires and expectations. Lucky are those mean, bad-ass bitches- people would be so happy when they become kind and as cute as your momma's fat baby.
When you've been extremely good like my dog Negra (my amazingly obedient, black dog), and you get so helluva mad as a raging Spanish bull, voila! you show off your true colors- people would despise you.
A steady, flowing one-milliliter drop of water from a leaking water pipe can fill a huge bucket. Your heart's so huge; you're sure you're having a cardiomegaly; you're so fucked up; like your heart's in your throat (which is a really, really wrong place, isn't it?)- you'd want to pull your self apart, show thy real self. It may be a good beginning.
It may be worse for anyone. They have loved the old- fake- you. What should you do? I do not know.
Maybe sing Color Blind by the Counting Crows and feel your tears flowing like a river.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Arnel Francis is right, the world is filled with fat women "ready to don their angry scalpels on the flesh of hopefuls". I have nothing against fat women, or being fat. Apparently, it's the fat women who are bred like crazy dogs with rabdovirus filling their brains.
A couple of weeks ago, I went to Dominican Hospital, Inc. a secondary hospital run by Dominican sisters (if I heard it right from my mother). I was wearing my stiffly starched cream white long sleeves, slim pants, and my favorite leather shoes. While on the cab, I made a short prayer, removed my earrings and put on perfume. Striding on the dusty pathway towards the hospital door, ongoing construction on the right wing look promising. Architecture's a bit amazing. I put on my gentle, manly smile. Glad to see fellow nurses. Everybody looked busy. The fat woman on the information was hooked to a paper over her ugly table. Another nurse walked to and fro between emergency department and pharmacy. As enfermeiras são ocupadas! Competitive!
The fat woman, a nurse, stood up. She's like an over sized teapot of my Grandmother. Her short, stubby legs, as short as her inappropriately wide-framed, extremely fat trunk. Her face gleaming with my most-hated dark aura, aura escura, unshaven eyebrows meeting together like a ciguapa's pubic hair above her nose bridge. Went face to face with her, I was about to lose my smile. I asked with all good manners I can suffice, "Ma'am, good morning! I'm Patrick. Where can I give my application?" The extremely short bitch (about 4 feet and 11 inches) looked up at me, with her eyes wide open like oranges, in her ill-mannered attitude, she replied, "Unya ra sir ha kay busy pa ko!"
(I asked friends how to translate her statement in English but they're too busy to fix my problem I supposed. Her statement might be in translated as: Can't you see?! I'm busy! or For a while Sir! I'm busy! Zahir suggested- I'm quite busy sir. Can I attend to you later? No. Too kind. So unlikely with the black pig's manner.)
She turned her back on me, I saw her dark nape like burnt caramel I made for my popcorn. I stared at her, my dear black pig, wondering how could my colleagues act like this. At work, hopeful nurses approaching me for any hiring, I basically talk to them warmly. A nun, frowning and very stiff like my starched shirt, interrupted my gaze towards my dear black bitch. The people here in Dominican Hospital are just plainly angry with the world. I went out, my resume at hand. Felt the nice, cool breeze outside and smoked.
A black pig with rabies. Sounds good. Fits her perfectly.
L a pa
T elepono ko!
This I basically hear from my friend recently. She paid the PLDT's My DSL installation fee of PhP 1,200 on November 25, 2008 (that's last year, take note!) through PLDT Digos City, Davao del Sur. No Official Receipt was given, just a specimen of the female staff in the cashier booth and her deciphered word- paid. Hello BIR! This can't be right! Accepting money from a consumer without issuing official receipt. After PLDT received the money, the My DSL department staff informed my dear friend, installation shall occur early December. My poor friend waited until Friday, she already had laid on plans and priorities to do once internet arrives. She called PLDT in the second of December, a female answered the call, a Filipina, probably born and raised in Digos City, with a poor diction, very arrogant, and so unwelcoming manner of talking to any soul in town. The same girl who made me lost my temper when I was also a hopeful consumer of PLDT My DSL Digos.
Let me say something about my experience with PLDT Digos. I also did not receive any official receipt when I gave the money. I paid the subscription or installment fee on a Monday. The bitch of My DSL said expect their technicians to do a survey in the same week, and the telephone plus internet shall be installed on or before Friday of the same week. I always have hard time keeping my patience from waiting. Friday of the same week, I called PLDT. The conversation between me and that bitch went like this:
Me: I would like to follow up on my internet application, my name is P_______... You told me blah blah blah...
Bitch: Sir, it might be installed next week.
Me: You should have told me! You should have called. I've been waiting!
Bitch: 'Di pa naman po tapos ang linggo.. In Cebuano- 'Wa pa bitaw nahuman ang simana. In English- The week's not over yet.
Me:(In the most furious manner I could do) What? Week's not over yet, whilst you just said it could be next week! You're making fool of me! You are making me wait for nothing! I am a very busy person. I have so much to do! You should have called me or informed me in any way so that I won't be waiting here like crazy! What is your problem?! You are not doing your job! Where do you think you're working Miss! In the market selling foul fish? You're in a corporate world! Wake up Miss! You're in PLDT! It's a huge company! Act like one! If you don't like your job, you quit!
I kept screaming, yelling, shouting, and taught her lessons, wisdom and principles. Yes, principles because this bitch obviously didn't have one. Less than an hour after my communication with the bitch, the technicians arrived. Got my phone on the same day, and the internet after a week. I made this excessively laid-back fellowmen of mine moved like how should everyone does.
But not in the case of my friend. She's a soft spoken, happy person. She barely screams and rarely gets furious. Some of her conversations with the girls-bitches of PLDT Digos:
My Friend: Christmas is over and I still don't have my internet.
Bitch: Puede po ninyong bawiin ang pera if 'di nyo na gusto. (You can have the money back if you don't like it). We don't have the port. We're waiting for the materials from General Santos City. Blah blah blah
Thus, the bitch wanted her to get the money and stop checking on the availment of their glorious services. I called PLDT hotline number 173 (not a hotline though, CSR only talks to you at office hours), a weak, dry voice told me there's no such account in my friend's name. Reasons? No payment has been made with her name on it. No data forwarded in main office. Ouch!
Everytime my friend talks to any of them, these bitches talk in their basics, extremely poor breeding, BASTOS, poor manner. Like you are unfortunately irking them. Sadly, it is now January 15, 2009, 52 days since her application, my poor friend is still offline. No telephone, no internet. I could have borrowed the money she gave to PLDT and have her enjoy 20% interest per month.
My friend has a shimmering, red telephone she bought from her Aunt, in her computer table. She had it there in place since November 25, 2008. Imagine a happy person, gleefully walking home, thinking of using her pretty red telephone.
I love you PLDT. I so love you. (PUKE!)