Mineistheearth's Topic of Choice

My Catch 22: I started a blog two months ago, just for the heck of it. But, what is it about? I have no idea. So, I browsed through this site again, and concluded: this is just a mumbo-jumbo combination of whatever I feel like talking about, whenever I feel like blogging.

This is not a good thing. After all, according to many blog “experts”, like Ivan Henares, for instance, blogging should have a point – that a blog has to have a specific topic to talk about, whether it be about the things that can be made of bamboo; food; travel; books; writing; religion; music; technology; movies; history; dating; parenthood; work; appliances; antique furniture; humour; family; etc.

For the past week, I’ve been racking my brain on what topic I ought to pick for mineistheearth. I’ve considered writing about my work – but I have a tendency to complain about it sometimes, which is not necessarily something I want to advertise to the whole wide world. Besides, there was this French guy whom I was faintly acquainted with before, and who had worked as an intern for his country’s embassy here in Manila. He got kicked out of work because he made the mistake of writing negatively about someone over the Net, about how he didn’t like his co-workers, and about how he hated it there. Well, it shouldn’t come to a surprise that he got shipped back to France faster than he can say, “Mer…”

What about writing and reviewing books? Nah… scrap that idea. I like reading books, not writing about them. Back in high school, I had hemmed and I had hawed when I was required to write book reviews. Particularly because the teacher would give me a low score whenever my opinion about the book wouldn’t jive with hers! Oi vey.

Then I thought what about writing about food. I eat enough of it to fill up three people’s appetites in half a day, anyway. Thus far, it was the food-related entries posted here that resulted in the most number of comments per post (Restaurant meme and Foooooooooood!). So, I’m going out on a limb and say that maybe food is my passion The posts that I’ve drafted are mostly about food; I’m eating some food (chicharon, to be more specific) as I type this right now; I’ve just laid out the ingredients for dinner tonight (spaghetti putanesca); and I know what I’m gonna eat for breakfast for tomorrow (scrambled eggs with sandwich spread on whole wheat bread – I’m taking my nutritionist’s proposed diet veeeeeeerrrrrry slowly… compensating, actually). So, perhaps I’d be writing about food here.



However, I also like travelling. A lot. Problem is – I don’t really get to do it that often, due to various reasons (i.e., primarily, Mr. Budget S.A. Constraint is the culprit). Hence, whenever I travel, similar to what happened last January and February (All Smiles :-)), Fun in the Sun! Vol. I, Series 1), I like documenting it, just in case I don’t ever get to the same place with the same people again. Blogging about it seems like a great way to keep mementos.

What to do… what to do? So many things to do in so little time. No conclusion yet to this minor dilemma, but I’ll probably get to the bottom line of what mineistheearth is all about by the time June 2009 rolls around. For now, I’m off to watch Dr. House conduct medical diagnostic wonders on my DVD player. Maybe he'll be able to give me a clue on what I'm supposed to do here.

Friendship faux pas

I made a booboo a few weeks ago, and I can’t seem to forget about it. A friend, whom I thought was a good friend, is still pissed off at me about it. Yeah, yeah, sure – she recently relayed to a mutual friend of ours that she’s “okay” with me already, but my female gut instinct tells me that she still thinks I’m the pus that feeds the fungus at the bottom of an extremely mucky and muddy pond (just gotta paraphrase that line from Julia in My Best Friend's Wedding; it seems so darned appropriate at this time).

I’ve analysed and re-analysed this black hole that I’m stuck in. WTF happened?! I set up a dinner with my friends one boring Wednesday evening. Two, Jane* and Kiwi* immediately replied. Both said yes to the invitation. So, I meticulously noted down the date on my calendars (that’s how obsessive-compulsive I can be – having several calendars, I mean: on my MS Outlook, my mobile phone, and my PDA) and wait for Wednesday.

The day arrived. I texted Jane and Kiwi to confirm the dinner. Kiwi texted back: “Sorry. Am sick @ home. Can’t believe it! But y’all still have fun tonight.” Jane never bothered to reply. Another friend, Diane*, texted me that same afternoon, wanting to hook up with us, too. So, I called Jane’s office to again confirm her attendance. No answer. “Her mobile, perhaps?,” I thought. Nope, no answer there either – just a pre-recorded network voice message saying she can’t be reached. Hence, I texted Diane back, “Sorry, sweetie. Dinner not pushing thru tonight. Jane hasn’t confirmed anything, and Kiwi’s sick @ home. See yah soon anyway!”

I arranged a dinner date with another friend, then, and had a blast, sans Jane, Kiwi, and Diane. At eleven o’clock that evening, though, I checked my mobile, which has been buried inside my gym bag. Hmmm… Seven missed calls and eleven messages… the latter, unfortunately, are mostly composed of Jane’s ire (no pun intended). Last message went something like this: “Where are you?! I’ve been waiting for more than an hour here already! I’m going home. If you wanted to cancel, you should have contacted me first.”

WHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!!!! Bu… bu… but I did! So I texted her again once… twice… three times. Two apologetic text messages were sent that night. Another one was sent the next morning. I tried to make the apology sound serious. Tried to make the situation sound funny, yet the apology sincere. Tried to be assertive about it. Tried to reach out and be friends again – after making an apology. And, also tried to take any and all blame for what had transpired… Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. Pfffft. That’s what I got as an answer from Jane.

I feel like the queen of all bad bad bad people in this cruel world. I told myself that I’ve done my part and that I should get over it. If Jane can’t see past it, then that’s the end of our friendship, I suppose. It sounds so girly and high-school-y, to me, but what the heck do I know? I’ve accepted this major faux pas, acted on it, and charged it to experience, but it still irks.

Therefore, this is the key lesson I’ve learned and wish to publish in blog history: check your damn mobile phone every five seconds, so you don’t feel like crap if ever somebody does miraculously call or text you especially when you least expect it. Your version of Jane would sure appreciate it.


*Names changed, for the sakes of propriety and of mine.

The Kind of Sundae That I am

At first glance, people often think I'm a hard person to get along with, a snob, a greedy beeyatch... Oftentimes, people get to hear me first, before they even get to see what I look like. I guffaw, I burp, I scream, and I viciously curse. Whether these "accusations" are true or not, you tell me. But I've recently discovered I'm actually just a hot fudge sundae.

You Are a Hot Fudge Sundae

Classic, simple, and divine. Why mess with perfection?

Now tell me, what kind of sundae are you?

Tagged!

Chrissy left a message earlier, forewarning me that she's tagged me for this Restaurant Meme, so here I am, ignoring office policies and meme-ing to my l'il heart's content:

The rules:

1. Add a direct link to your post below the name of the person who tagged you. Include the state and country you’re in.
Nicole (Sydney, Australia)

Velverse (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia)

LB (San Giovanni in Marignano, Italy)

Selba (Jakarta, Indonesia)

Olivia (London, England)

ML (Utah, USA)

J (California, USA)

Curiosity Killer (Hong Kong, SAR)

Chrissy (Manitoulin Island, Ontario, Canada)

Kimmie (Metro Manila, Philippines)

2. List out your top 5 favorite places to eat at your location.

#1 LIYIMEN Seafood Restaurant - every Sunday, my dad takes us on a family "bonding" session over breakfast. La mama does not normally go, but us kids strive hard to wake up as early as possible on Sunday mornings to go to Banawe Street in our part of the metro, Quezon City, and stuff our faces full of dimsum, dimsum, and more dimsum. We don't normally talk ('coz, like I said, mouths are full of usually full of delicious dimsum), but we bond like crazy.

#2 Masas in Greenbelt 2 - Three words: Filipino food heaven! Plus Paul the Waiter... mmmmmm!!!!

#3 Teriyaki Boy - I know, I know.

It's a gawd-awful name, but this "fast-casual" Japanese restaurant has the best appetizer to ever hit the palate - it's a dish with long-stemmed mushrooms wrapped in lightly toasted bacon strips. Yum yum yum... And, its grilled eel on rice? Ooooohlala.

#4 Dencio's - this restaurant is synonymous to one of the Philippines' weirdest and most delicious food delicacies - sisig. I shan't explain anymore, and hope that you could just come over and enjoy Dencio's specialty yourself.

#5 Cirkulo - whenever I have this gut-wrenching urge for paella, there's only one place to be. Cirkulo on Pasay Road, Makati boasts of a fine dining atmosphere, sky-is-the-limit prices, and mouth-watering paella. 'Nuf said.

I can't resist - my apologies to the original creator of this meme, but I've got a 6th and a 7th restaurant that just cannot be missed.

#6 Alfredo's Steak House - I still remember that awesome day. It was my seventh birthday, and as per our family tradition, we went out to find the perfect spot to celebrate it in. We found ourselves on Tomas Morato Avenue in Quezon City (about 20 minutes away from where I live, with heavy traffic included), and Alfredo's Steak House seemed to be calling, nay, shouting, my name. I had my first taste of real honest-to-goodness saliva-producing steak. It's been my ideal restaurant ever since. You know... the "ideal" date place, the "ideal" celebrate-someone's-bday place, the "ideal" engagement place. THE IDEAL.

#7 Chocolate Kiss - my good friend from college, Shella, introduced me to this one. After a particularly grueling final exams' season, Shella said that we just HAD to go there. Located in the heart of the government-owned University of the Philippines' (UP) campus, Chocolate Kiss used to be a hush-hush secret of the creme de la creme of UP faculty members and students with money. During that first visit, I had spaghetti with meatballs, home-made iced tea, and blueberry cheesecake - the best combination to soothe a worried college student's soul. A must-try.

3. Tag 5 other people (preferably from other countries/states) and let them know they’ve been tagged.

I'm tagging:

- PJ: now that you're a little further away from our dear DWH's vicinity, what restos would you recommend there, near your new workplace?

- Danny: I haven't been to Sydney in, oh, 15 years! Tell me what's new there.

- Girlie Monkey: so aside from the thrown dinner rolls in Lambert's and Latino studs, what else is good to eat in MO? :-)

- Ivan: you've been practically everywhere. Give us the four-one-one, then: what are the best places you've eaten in, so far?

- Balikbayan Box: British Columbia's a pretty idyllic spot. Any recommendations?

NOTE: Pictures were downloaded from various websites over the Internet.

Fitness Angst

There’s nothing more annoying than someone else invading your private place. Now, as to how you define what your “private place” is, well, I’d say it depends. For instance, I can say that the condo unit I rent and pay for on my own is my private place, but my mom would highly disagree. She forces me to share it with my two NBSB (no-boyfriend-since-birth) sisters, which is, oftentimes, a deterrent to me, since I can’t just invite anyone over any time. It’ll be kinda awkward if I suddenly bring a guy I’ve newly met from a café over to the condo, and the sisters are there. It’ll be doubly awkward if they tell our mom embarrassing situations such as one cited above.

I also consider the bathroom a sacrosanct space. I mean, who’d want a person entering the restroom when you’re doing the number two??? But there’s a HUGE difference between a private bath/restroom and a public one. I don’t know about you, but I’d sure as hell don’t want to anger a “big momma” look-alike if she wants to use the vanity mirror above the sink I’m using – hence, I’d only take a few seconds to rinse my hands with soap and water and get out of her way as soon as possible. My mama did teach me some manners when I was growing up. One of her first lessons was: don’t deliberately try and piss off anyone who’s bigger, meaner, and bitchier than you are. I took that lesson to heart. Somehow, though, other mamas never managed to teach their daughters this very valuable lesson.

All this angst about “respect for others’ private space” grew out of my frustration with my co-members in the gym that I’ve recently signed up with. Now, this isn’t one of those cheap neighbourhood gyms that I’m now a “proud” member of – in fact, it’s one of the largest and most well-known ones worldwide (its advertisements even have Hollywood celebrities as spokes-models, e.g., Matt Damon, Vin Diesel, The Rock, Janet Jackson, and so on and so forth), so I had some pretty damn high expectations.

I’m cool with the equipment, the trainers, and such. But it’s just those other gym users that make me want to pull their hair out strand by strand.

Think about this scenario: you want to use a particular gym equipment to exercise a targeted area of your body – let’s say, your abs. So, you go to the ab machine, right? But there’s someone there – a perky little woman with abs flat enough to grill porterhouse steaks on is already using it. You think, “Fine. I’ll come back in five minutes…” Five minutes later, you go back. She’s still there, so you try to go find something else on your exercise programme to do. You go back again after another ten minutes, but SHE’S STILL FRIGGING THERE! And the thing is, she’s only used the machine at least twice (each set of ab crunches takes only about a minute to do) in the last 15 minutes! The rest of the time, she just sits on the machine and stare into space!!!!!!!!!!!!! WTF?! And, it’s the gym’s policy and the general users’ unspoken rule to not disturb anyone who’s doing his/her thing on the exercise floor. What are you gonna do? Skip the whole ab thing, and hope to god that you can make up for it the next time you go to the gym.

Now imagine yourself hitting the showers after an hour-long gym routine. Just ignore the greedy people who have dumped their clothes in the changing rooms (even though they’re not inside the rooms to change yet). Strip naked beside your locker (in full view of the unkind vanity mirrors), and cross your fingers that no one whispers about your abs that didn’t get freakin’ exercised that morning. Get a quick shower (coz you never know what cooties you may be getting from the shower area’s floor) and change. Now, try and use one of the two hair dryers that the gym has provided for its members. Go ahead, try. No luck? Ah, that’s probably because two gal-pals are still using both hair dryers while chatting up a storm. Don’t even bother waiting. They’re still gonna be there 30 minutes later, blow drying their super-mega-extra-unconditioned-long-thick-unruly hair while talking about how unsatisfied they are in their sex lives. On another day, you might get lucky and snatch up some precious time to quietly blow dry your own hair before you go to work. Pray to whatever-god-there-may-be that there’s not another person sitting on the chair next to you, drying her own hair. For sure, at some point during her drying routine, she’d whip her hair back and hit you in your face dead-on. Not a nice thing to experience. Believe me - I’ve got a few “hair whiplash” scars on my face that I’m still suffering from.

All these horror stories are making me feel ill about the thought of going to the gym. But, then I think, I spent a whole month’s hard-earned salary on this damned gym membership, and it’s going to be a hard pill to swallow if I stop now. So, fitness angst aside, I’ll huff-and-puff my way back to that gym, and by-george, you’ll see me pushing that skinny bitch off of the ab machine, dumping my stuff in the changing room before I even hit the gym, and pulling the hair of the next girl who uses the communal hair dryer for longer than 15 minutes. It’s plain ethics, man, just ethics.

Microsoft iPod

Sheer hilarity over Microsoft's brand of marketing versus Apple's Zen-like marketing strategies.

(Just had to take a break from work. This market survey thingie's driving me nuckin' futs.)

Kim @ Work

My beloved friend and officemate has officially decided that she's going to move on to new, and perhaps, bigger employment opportunities today. I FEEL SOOOOOOO LEFT OUT! Not because of the potentially bigger (and more profitable) opportunities she has at the tip of her hand, but because she has a firm direction in her professional life. She knows what she wants, she knows how to get it, and she's not looking back anymore. Me? I'm still at loose ends!

Hence, tomorrow, expect Kim to finally have control of her life... sometime after lunch - after a meeting with the boss. Oh, and I should remember to start sending out my CV already, damnit! I keep forgetting that.

Ok, enough venting. Back to my market survey, which is a part of a study/project that I have decided I will no longer be participating in after June this year. Why am I still doing it now if I won't be part of it anymore after this project ends? BEATS ME! Ayayay. I'm too lenient, I know. Giving away my services and making them use my MBA knowledge virtually for free...

Ok, now really, GTG back to work so I can start watching DVDs.