little flower makes my view of the aircon, dusty balcony and even dustier street much prettier :)

super cute talaga si Jollibee!

it is yet to stop.

today, while the boys were discussing the latest Wimbledon scores and the Williams sisters, N said, "ay, women's finals ng Wimbledon ba yon? i thought i was watching Gorillas in the Mist."

and from a bad commentator that says "I can't really identify among the two gorillas, but Gorilla A, also known as the bigger gorilla, is blah blah blah. Gorilla B, meanwhile, is hanging on."

and then to a classic Nat Geo wildlife docu in night vision with matching whispered voiceover: "at this point, it's very dangerous to approach these animals (athletic grunt). see, those sounds they are making means agression and they are currently feeling very very territorial," "look at Gorilla B stalking her prey very very carefully. let's stay quiet so they don't see us."

ah, basta, i find it funny.

yesterday, we were all busy writing at around 4pm when N opened the window to let some air in, and sat down again to work. N was looking at the window when he exclaimed to the whole room, "Hey, are those niggers?". Of course, it's a politically incorrect joke but we couldn't help but laugh. G suggested that we call them and say, "Hey you, come closer... here's a dime." And then we gave them names. I suggested "Jamal".

So, yeah, yesterday was peppered with bad racist humor and it was one of the funniest afternoons I've had lately. Sorry, tao lang. Don't worry, hanggang doon lang naman yon. Y'all had to be there =D

when "oh this looks an episode on fear factor" popped into my head, i knew my brain was kicking in. Still, it was not until it issued the imperative "Danger. Let it go" when i finally released my hold on my handbag.

i would like to say i was tenacious, a fighter, but the hindsight that i could have died, as well as the throbbing of some wounds and bruises, would say i was being stupid. i hope my younger siblings read this and think "That really was a stupid thing to do, ate".

Still, i can't fault my instinct. That was the first thing it wanted to do in those first few seconds, to go all "oh no, you don't!" and keep pulling at my handbag's strap even though i was aware of being dragged across the ground at motorcycle speed...against the flow of traffic on zobel roxas. My friend was right when she said, "you know, you'll never really know what you can and will do until you're actually faced with a certain situation."

i always said i'd just give up my things if i get mugged. and i was surprised to know that my instinct, and a little part of my conscious self, was not to, pala. that was what really made my heart throb extra hard a few hours later, that there were a few seconds when i was consciously just not letting go, still fighting. some of the similar muggings in my area involve riders with guns or metal tubes to hurt their victims. what if this dude had a gun? i would have been very easy to shoot, and fatally, being the quite large and noticeable buntot of their little ride. upon reflecting on it later, i also realized that, should there have been a parked car that obstructed my legs in those first few "stupid" seconds while i was in angry mode, my instinct would have been to pull very hard and make the second rider fall off. but what if he does fall off yet manage to pull something on me before i could escape? i pride myself on being relatively brave, but not on being foolhardy. jesus christ.

no, i'm not blaming myself. there's really no one to blame for people who'd rather hurt others than take on an honest job, even if it's just powering pedicabs (the drivers were actually one of the first people by my side, apart from ate josie who shouted so loud to alert everyone when she saw me fall). i'm just surprised at my not-so-smart initial reaction to something like this. i hope my instincts know better next time.

obviously, i don't think i'll get over this for a while, and i'm still very, Very nervous to step out of my house as it happened just right at the corner from where i live, i had a companion and it was 8am. i'm actually quite careful and aware because these people are always roaming our streets. apparently, even that is not enough to be safe from these lazy bastards. may they be raped by a gang of hyperactive carabaos (thanks, roj!). then may the tusks of ornery elephants find their way to anal crevices ideally used for pleasure. then may somebody bash their faces so bad they look like the love child of gollum and ephialtes. but then may they still retain full function of their johnsons so they feel a profound pain when absolutely no one will touch them.

apart from what seems like minor injuries, the damage includes my dear mobile phone (which doesn't deserve this treatment), my digital camera (replaceable), my wallet with official IDs and bank cards (alerted and blocked, except for official IDs that i still have to work on). what i consider the greatest loss is my little notebook with the Gustav Klimt painting on the cover. that had all my ideas, some writing, plans, passwords (already changed), dreams, favorite things, etc. I'm still crying about this, but i would be lying if i said trauma wasn't thrown in there somewhere.

later in the evening while i was praying before bedtime, i apologized to my body and said "i'm sorry i put you through that, but thank you for letting go. i'll take better care of you, okay?" i'm just happy that, at some point, the more powerful part of my brain COMMANDED my body to let it go. there was, honestly, a little part that wanted to hold on because it believed i could still win. i'm happiest that my body followed the other part of my brain. i think that was my Guardian Angel's doing. and i keep breathing a sigh of relief that somebody, something, released my hands' grip before either the thieves hurt me with something or a car ran me over. Thank God, indeed. Thank you, God. THANK. YOU. GOD. boy does he know what he's doing. whew.

now i have to push myself to still go about my normal life, even though my heart is hammering at the thought of stepping past our gate. but i have to, else i'd have lost more than my bag and what was in it. today's a sunday and the wounds on my feet (not so bad, actually, but there were thin layers of flesh that got removed) are throbbing like anything. it could be because i decided to still push through with my recital last night because i needed something to smile about. now That is the right kind of courage.

somebody said after seeing me perform, "parang akala mo wala lang nangyari sa 'yo ah." i went all batman (frank miller-style) and said, "it's a simple matter of telling your body to turn that grimace of pain into an extra wide on-stage smile."

(as a request, can you just pray for my family? :D i had some bank info in there and i'm afraid they may think we have money or something and do something worse than robbing just me. thank you :) )

a major reason why i envy people my age living in countries where playfulness and a true sense of fun have space to breathe...

Of course, New York is it...

and London won't be left behind. they did this last year, too.

i asked this group before if we can implement a game in Manila (yeah, yeah, fat chance) and i got a response from Eevil Midget of their Shadow Government, with side comments about how his Supreme Commander and Mustache Commander have preferences for strip clubs. I refrained from emailing my well-composed fire-and-brimstone response.

ah, well. someday, soon. i can feel it in my twinkle toes.

there's a debate going on about these two posters (which won a bronze lion at cannes). many think it's gross or scary, others love the retro style and eroticism. i succumb to the latter. instantly thought these were brilliant... and not just because the artist (James Jean) has done some Fables cover art. Enjoy!

whatchutink?

lookit lookit! ain't it charming?can't wait for this one, too! argh!

Pardon the quick-moving camera persons :) here's the first "overloaded" stunt from the Greenwich Pizza Mob. Gotta love the lola!

youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gl3ffonBR-w

ouch! the backlash has begun...

anthropology in the business of selling
(one of the many blogs i've been trying to keep to myself)

...is the day I reserve for listening to Aqua, The Pointer Sisters, Donna Summer, Bonnie Tyler, Devo and Irene Cara. Why, oh why was I so sure Aqua was bad? Now i'm eating my words and singing along. Although I still reserve a profound hatred for Barbie Girl ;-)

wake up wake up, it's monday!

...for getting me hooked on Neil Gaiman. As a wet-behind-the-ears froshie (redundant ba yon?) in 1996, i learned that literature could surpass "great" and truly, truly expand one's world when wanggo dropped a copy of Brief Lives on my lap and told me to read it. and i did in one night. there's no way to describe that first encounter but it was like eating chocolate for the first time, or waking up from The Matrix.

during the rest of my college years, i kept borrowing more and more (thanks, kaoko cow!). then wanggo loaned me neverwhere. until now, i thank the god/s/goddess/es for the world that these two showed me. i became, like the rest of the world's current reading population, a card-carrying Gaiman geek.

fast-forward to The Year That Was Was (2005), Neil came to the country. and months before, 99% of the people in my circle were all abuzz. i chastised a friend of mine for wanting to get to the first event by 7am, and i wound up being there at 6:30am, 7th in line. the line went on for days and Neil came in like a rockstar--all tall, a little fuzzy, and British. what ensued was a "wall of sound" that Neil fondly recalled in his blog.

in those three days, i was able to get four books signed-A Game of You, Neverwhere, Coraline, Smoke and Mirrors, and a hug from my literary idol. and though he probably signed it a million times, i felt that his "Zane, Mind the Gap --n.g." on my battered and slightly embarrassing copy of Neverwhere was special. i did mind the gap that year (but that's another story).

imagine my excitement upon learning that the office was helping Fully Booked organize a special NG book-signing and talk for the ad congress delegates. my boss, donna, dropped by to ask for volunteers from the creatives, but it was like we were all waiting for a sign. then she said we can have our books signed and five hands promptly shot up in the air. by saturday, my The Wake, Mr. Punch, Smoke and Mirrors (i gave the last one to a friend), Good Omens, and Alan Moore's Voice of the Fire (with an N.G. foreword) were signed.

he read the first chapter of the book he's currently writing entitled (so far) The Graveyard. it sounded very interesting. one of the fans asked if he would ever write more erotica in the future, and neil said it always embarrasses him to write that kind of literature. it takes him two years to finish one story, because there are points where he'd be really embarrassed and he has to stop until the embarrasment goes away, and that's when he'll start writing it again. he also joked that unlike children's lit, which he loves writing because it can be enjoyed by one's kids and families for a long time, erotica is something he hopes doesn't get published until his whole family is gone. he's so damn amusing.

he also said "fantasy is a marvelous tool for making things in real life solid" (or something like that.) AND helped someone make the coolest proposal EVER (my boss told us about this in advance. i was surprised to see that the girl was someone i knew). neil is wonderment.

i finally got that infamous "Burn this book --n.g." =)

thanks, man.