The Weekend

1. A gnarly tale of financial priorities. I damaged a wisdom tooth and passed on several opportunities to have it taken out, mostly because at one point, a former dentist suggested that I needed a specialist ($$$$$$$) to take it out. I mean fuck that I thought when I got an estimate, which could cover the purchase of two luxury bags. The tooth didn’t hurt at all so I waited until it loosened to a point where I could actually pull it out. I thought for minute that maybe I needed to see my current dentist to take it out just in case there was a complication, because you never know. But again, I thought it would be embarrassing that a well-dressed adult man, who could well afford a $300+ extraction, would let it go this far. But I was already at that point- I could feel the tooth with my tongue dangling by the thinnest of whatever it was that was holding it in place. It seemed stupid going to the dentist now and forking out $300. The dentist would probably laugh at the easiest money she ever made. So I pulled it, slight twinge of pain, a bit of bleeding, and with a small torch, saw with relief that the clot was already there. It closed up overnight and I didn’t even need to eat soup for dinner. See? Saved some money there.

2. I’m not the most DIY orientated of people which I blame on my upbringing and a culture where for a reasonable fee, you can get things done for you. But shelling out $80 to get a chain taken out of a bracelet, or to change a broken clasp??? And I almost did, except that that person who did the repairing was away sick. So it took a full week before I came to my senses and watched enough YouTube videos to realise that with some tools, I could shorten the jewellery myself and fix the broken clasp myself and not be a totally useless person.

3. I think we’re in for the kind of winter that’s not good for dressing up- WET and cold.

Out of office

1. Should aim staying over in the warmer months next time

2. The perfect routine; work from 7:30am to 11; walk to the gym; work till 4:30; nap; dinner; sleep at 9:30.

3. The mental impact of eating food you grew up with can never be underestimated- fuck dieting.

4. It’s been a while since I had scrambled eggs with tomatoes. Dad made it all the time, the perfect accompaniment to fried fish or Spam. There would be heaps left over and I would remember eating bits of it throughout the day until it was all gone.

5. Kids grow up so fast it makes me want to cry.

Binagoongan

Pandesal

Baby pusit and pork-chop

Breakfast of scrambled eggs & tomatoes and Wagyu tapa

Laing and boneless bangus

Be entertained!

It doesn’t take much to entertain me. I buy into the fantasy without doubt or reservation. Because what’s the whole point of trying to be entertained when you don’t allow yourself to be??

These days, everyone is a motherfucking, goddamned critic. And they think they’re clever, that they’re doing some bizarre service - eg. Snow White, The Wheel of Time etc - for what, I don’t know and frankly, I don’t care. I hope and wish that if you’re that kind of person, may you LITERALLY DROWN IN YOUR OWN GODDAMNED, FUCKING MISERY you miserable fuck.

As L would say, BUWISETTTTTTTT, lol.

1. But on that note, I’m mystified by the hype over The Housemaid, a novel by Freida McFadden. I wanted a book I could read in two days and when I saw it on the NYTimes best-seller list, I thought lemme get it, and I didn’t really have high expectations. All I wanted was something riveting enough to go with my potato chips. But it was TERRIBLE. And to think the bitch who wrote it allegedly went to Harvard and is a doctor. I know that I’ve always wanted to write a novel, but if this is what it takes to get published, I’d rather be a garbage person. The most disturbing thing though is how a lot of people like it; but we shouldn’t be surprised really about what people end up liking and accepting right?? Just look around you.

2. Profoundly sad that The Wheel of Time got cancelled and that The Last of Us only had eight episodes. Never read the books or played the game, and even if I did, would I go on an internet rampage if the adapted screen version was somehow changed? I don’t get the entitlement of ‘fans’ over the source material. It’s stupid- go write your own fucking script and produce it yourself why don’t you??

3. Watched Lilo and Stitch today with Chini-Rae and it was great- I laughed, I cried - and so I was mystified when I saw the reviews. Fucking ‘fans’. Again. I barely remember what happened in the original animation, so why would I care if they changed it?? And even if I did, would I stop myself from accepting and enjoying what’s been given to me in the present just because I was hung up about the original version? IT’S JUST A FUCKING MOVIE for christ’s sakes!

Hardly entertaining, isn’t it, when your enjoyment is ruined by others who are incapable of accepting joy - mga BUWISETTTTTTTT

Working weekend

I almost lost my phone and then my ring, which gave me an epiphany of sorts; I thought that I didn’t have that much of an attachment to material things, but I do.

The phone was easy enough because I left it in an Uber, which we recovered in 20 minutes, but the ring was a mystery. I thought I’d lost it while doing my business in a cordoned-off, private restroom at the arena where we held our show over the weekend. I swear I remember taking it off while I was in the cubicle and putting it into my toiletry bag. Fast forward two hours, I suddenly realise that it wasn’t on my finger, and the panic and grief I felt was something I didn’t expect.

Suffice it to say that I went back up to the restroom half a dozen times, scanning the floor, the stairs in the hope that I had dropped it, praying under my breath for God to make it twinkle in some dark corner, some crevice. But alas.

I cursed myself for having way too many sakes the night previous, hence a grumbly stomach worsened by a breakfast of a big McDonald’s Brekkie Burger with an extra beef patty and a fried egg. See what happens when you SHIT at work? Something bad happens.

It took the whole day for me to accept the fact that these things do happen - you win some (the day previous, I got word from my doctor that my blood-sugar reduction diet was working) and you lose some.

Our show closed at 4 pm and we started the process of packing up. Just randomly, I reached for this box where we’ve put in our empty coffee cups and various trash and absentmindedly riffled through it (like why right? I could have dumped it straight into the bin) and saw a glint of silver.

It was the ring. Honestly don’t know how it get there, or maybe I’m losing my mind, but I’m glad that God returned it to me.

The Weekend

What I really, really want, but can't have

1. A huge plate full of rice (guilt and fear of illness have most likely shrunk my stomach- I feel physically ill if I had more than a cup).

2. Solid, well-formed hands and fingers with no veins and creapey skin. I’d like to wear heaps of rings, but my hands are ugly.

3. A modestly substantial, well-formed butt. Yes, I do squats and all that everyday, but alas…

4. Perfect eyesight. FUCK these goddamned glasses.

5. Full, luxurious, out of control, brazenly lush facial hair.

6. Justice on my own terms.

7. To go back in time just once and be able to say to this person - YES YOU WERE WRONG YOU STUPID CUNT.

8. Longer eyelashes

9. To go back in time just once and say to my Tatay (my mom’s dad) - I PICKED A DIFFERENT PATH AND I’M GLAD I DID BECAUSE I’M HAPPY.

10. To go back in time just once with my camera and take a million photos of my old cat Tiger because I can’t remember what she looks like anymore :-(

Thursday's list

1. I’m glad these shoes fit, even if I’m agonising over the fact that I don’t have the appropriate pants and socks that I think would suit them.

2. There was a party that I was invited to this week that I had to decline. I needed to buy a new suit jacket, but I ended up using the money to buy these shoes instead- and yes, some of us don’t have an endless supply of disposable income to buy everything we want.

3. We’re nearing the end of May! Where has the time gone??

4. I need a clock (or timer) for the bathroom; something has changed in my morning routine, and I’m cutting it very close (I’m out the door at 6:49 am to hitch a ride with Mary).

5. Wouldn’t it be cool if you could buy time like literally?? (remember this movie?).

The Weekend

1. Every year on May 10 (Matt’s birthday) is Sisig Day. Boil it, season it, grill it, chop it, season it and Uber deliver it.

2. Sisig is a treat, eating it with rice (as if there’s any other way) is a treat.

3. I love the Auckland CBD. On a Saturday (or any other given day), it’s like being in a world where none of the real world’s problems exist, because who cares? Queen Street is so tiny with traffic controlled so you can sit at one of the benches and not feel that you’re in a city.

4. I would love to live in the city; if we didn't have Lily the cat, we probably would.

Start of the week

Snap

Do images say more about what a person is and what their life is all about? I do hope so, because I’ve been struggling with writing about my life. Something just refuses to flow.

I remember when I was younger when it was so much easier. But I was obviously a different person then. I didn’t have any friends, I never left the house, I spent the day reading and day-dreaming and later, writing. Being alone creates the perfect conditions for writing.

But I’m never alone now, haven’t been in a very, very long time. Real life isn’t what I expected it to be, but I’ve made my peace with it. I’ve found my place in it. I’ve found the things that allow me to live comfortably, according to social standards as well as my own. I’ve found the pursuits that give me joy and contentment. I’m learning to set aside the things that I can’t control or have no power over. I’ve put aside the mistakes I’ve made, apologised for some of them and have never repeated them again. I try every day to be kind. I try every day to push aside bad thoughts like grabbing the phone of this idiot in my 7:05am bus who insists on playing his shit music out load, and slapping it across his ugly face.

Real life as it unfolds every single day is the best story of all. At the end of one, I discover that I neither have the energy or the creative words to write about it.

I’ve lived it and survived to live the next one- isn’t that enough? So can I just take a photo please?

Out of office

Holidays are exhausting. When you get back, you realise that you need a holiday to recover from the holiday. But with steadily accumulating leave that I can’t even accumulate, I decided to take the whole of the Easter break, my birthday leave and tomorrow’s Anzac Day for a grand total of eight days to do fuck all. Well, actually did a lot. We took a car to the island of Waiheke, did a 24km bike ride of the island, and marvelled at how the rich locals spent a normal Wednesday night drinking $300 wines and nibbling on exquisite, but tiny pieces of roasted lamb loin (it was very good).

Today

The Lenten season of my childhood is gone. I can be dramatic and say something stupid like, where is God, but I know the answer to that. He’s here, in me. I think of kindness and empathy and generosity every day. I try my best to be kind, emphatic and generous every day. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I don’t. But I know that God is not keeping tally. He just wants you to try, every single day for as long as you’re alive. That’s all you can do.

But yeah, I miss the traditions. I guess, it’s kind of the point of Catholicism- the pageantry gives the season its allure and its mystique. You deprive yourself of meat, of entertainment, you think of an entity with superhuman powers yet had allowed himself to be nailed to a cross so that you will be saved (from what, it didn’t really matter). When I was young, I believed all of that but on a level that was more philosophical than mystical.

When I grew older, it became easier to take that path and not because I believed it any less. Some were just silly (Mark Wahlberg sporting his Ash Wednesday smeared forehead on his socials), antiquated (the Stations of the Cross) or stupid (not eating meat).

I remember on one of my mother’s visits to New Zealand that happened to fall on Lent, we were craving for squid, but only if it was sold with ink which you most always never find here.

But by the miracle of Jesus and Mary, we found one at Pak N Save, but alas, the staff wouldn’t sell it to us; they were mortified that a packet had slipped through their quality control.

We had to explain (and beg), that it was exactly how we wanted it.

I don’t remember now though, whether we got it in the end.

Are you ready for the White Lotus Season 3 finale?

White Lotus is all about being edged; which is why some people don’t like it.

Some people like it straightforward. Wham, bam, thank you and maybe next week? Where’s the fun in that? And this is the reason why I stopped wasting money on degustations. I have yet to try one that paces things perfectly.

Everything now is so hurried and instant. People want to get to the point without delay, but where's the savoring of the journey? White Lotus takes its time, letting tension build slowly, teasing out revelations, letting you stew in uncertainty and discomfort. It’s a show that doesn’t give you easy answers; it challenges you to sit with the ambiguity. That’s where the true drama lives — not in the climaxes, but in the pauses. In every long, lingering shot of a character trying to keep up appearances, or a moment of silence that says more than words ever could.

It’s a tension that keeps you hooked, but also what makes it divisive. Some viewers crave closure, resolution, the neat bow at the end. Others, however, enjoy the lingering questions, the psychological edge, the discomfort of not knowing everything. This is the magic of White Lotus. The mystery is as much a part of the experience as the plot. It doesn't hand-feed you; it demands that you engage, that you read between the lines.

But that doesn’t mean everyone has the patience for it. And it’s okay if you don’t. Some shows thrive on immediacy, and they have their own brand of brilliance. But there’s something exquisite about the way White Lotus makes you wait for satisfaction, forcing you to reckon with the ambiguity of human nature, the chaos of luxury, and the complexities of relationships. You may not get everything neatly wrapped up, but you’ll leave with questions that gnaw at you long after the credits roll.

Maybe that’s the real appeal of White Lotus. It's not about answers; it’s about keeping you on edge, forcing you to confront the uncomfortable spaces between what you think you know and what’s actually true. It's a slow burn, but in the world of instant gratification, it’s a delicious kind of discomfort.

And who really cares about who dies and who lives? We all move on the next one..

Library series (Papatoetoe)/Weekend reading

I miss the craft, not the pay check

1. Does attempting to write, count as ‘I’m still trying to write.?”

2. It’s easier now to simply take a photo to remember something by: the way the autumn sun feels and looks different. How your $500 sneakers matches your $300 pants. How standing in your backyard putting your laundry on the line feels like being back in Pangasinan.

3. Since 2012, I’ve taken over 45,000 images and wrote ZERO stories.

4. In my teens, I submitted short-stories for a women’s magazine (MOD) and was paid P500 per story. I wrote the story long-hand and had my dad’s secretary type it out.

5. I wanted to take up BS Psychology at UP Diliman because I thought I wanted to be a doctor. It was my dad who actually asked me to change it to English as a preparatory degree for law. I didn’t become either.

6. Nearly everyone in my high school batch took up nursing, which I thought was appropriate for dull people with no talent.

7. I switched majors in my sophomore year (Creative Writing), got accepted to the Philippine Collegian (and wrote racy, ambiguous fiction) and earned my drinking/SM Mall money proofreading on the side for a UP publishing house.

8. Worked in advertising out of uni and I fucking hated it. Ad people were egomaniacal, ugly narcissists. It reinforced my belief that if you did something just for the money, things wouldn’t end well. Never again.

9. Went back to Pangasinan to work for the local office of a national newspaper chain and managed to convince management to allow me to put out a weekend magazine that folded soon after launch. Realised that I was a maniacal, actually attractive narcissist.

10. Spent the next 10 years writing fiesta greetings for all 44 Pangasinan municipalities and wondering if perhaps, I should’ve taken up nursing instead. But in hindsight, I would have failed spectacularly at a job that required great people skills and a personality that is anything but dull.

11. Moved to New Zealand and ditched the writing. I realised that I had to choose between doing something that I was comfortable with or doing something that expanded that further and paid a bit more.

12. My niece and her fiance just bought a house in one of the most expensive (and overpriced) housing markets in the world. She’s barely 25, and she’s a nurse. Yes, I definitely should have taken up nursing.

ooff

I get nervous all the time like the next person, but I usually get over it once I make a more accurate and logical assessment of the situation. I’ve never had anxiety but I’m starting to believe that the more you think about it, the more you repeat it, and the more you hear about it from people around you, the more real it becomes until you become, well, fucking anxious.

The whole three months of the year was a build-up to stuff at work that I thought was going to be epically challenging. Well, it wasn’t. It was epic for sure (AI! Marketing Automation! Generative Video!), but hardly challenging. You ride it like you would a good wave and at the back of your mind, you knew that you were going to do well- and so what’s next?

A co-worker is leaving today after nearly 14 years. We started in the same year and have been inseparable in a way that can only be described as meant to be. We were the A-team. We accomplished a shit-load of stuff, most of which we did from scratch. We were looking at a couple more high-octane times. So when they say without any warning that they’re leaving, the impact of it for me anyway, is like being shot by a bullet. But you’re still moving very fast so you can’t feel the pain. Not yet - and so what’s next?