It has been a while since I last had a blinding* moment. It has been months, I believe. I only get to experience it when I go to Malate and the last time I did, I was too wasted to remember how I got home.

I was on a cab home to Pasig this morning and as I passed through Guadalupe bridge, I noticed something spectacular. I looked to my right and morning light was breaking. I could even see Laguna Lake. I looked to my left and darkness still enveloped everything in slumber. Thank God I have photographic memory. I not only immortalized the magnificent view but I also captured the fantastic feeling of witnessing the beauty of God's masterpiece. Thank you God.

I remember that morning in Sariaya a couple of years ago with UPLB Betans. Everyone was asleep except for Rory, Tano and myself. We witnessed such an exquisite sunrise in the horizon. I would've wanted to share it with *bleep* but he was out cold. That moment would remain as one the rare unforgettable ones in my life that constantly makes me see life's beauty.

[This woulda been a lengthy detailed account of my funn evening with mah bebe Belle (who from this point on shall be called Dan because she refuses to be girly) but a power fluctuation caused the whole friggin' post to disappear beyond recovery. I'm too pissed to reconstruct now which pisses me off even more.]

*blinding - that moment when you are blinded by sunrise when coming out of a bar/club or on your way home from a bar/club. Party people who constantly experience blinding moments may be spotted as they carry (not wear) shades or sunglasses when they go out at night.

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*.* as if! @ 8:35:00 PM • • RBJ

I have a new favorite activity. I love walking in the rain! I love staying under the shower till I'm all pruney and near-hypothermic and plodding in the rain with slow baby strides feels like being under a giant shower. There was a heavy downpour last night and with my sorority umbrella as refuge, I walked home from KFC. (Yes, my dinner last night came from KFC again) The difficult feat of walking on wet platforms did not bother me at all. I was even humming Don't Tread On Me under my breath.

I remembered...

One time, at LB, (Doesn't this make me sound like the band geek Michelle?) it was almost midnight and Bes and I almost got locked out of the dorm. It was raining heavily and we used Gue's mega-umbrella for shelter. We walked from the BE friends' house in Gonzales, through the dirt road which at that time was literally a dirt road still, passed by the post office, Palma Bridge and walked the perimeter of Freedom park. We reached Men's Dorm just as the guard was wrapping the chain around the gates.

Bes and I were a bit notorious in the dorm for perenially going home late. There came a point when the guards knew us too well that they let us in even without checking the late permit logbook. The dorm manager called us to his office one time and warned us of being evicted if we didn't start following the rules. We didn't care. It was the second sem and we were going to be evicted from the dorm for being upperclassmen the following semester anyway.

That night, we did not walk alone. A lonesome boy who got turned down by Bes for the nth time trodded behind us, oblivious to being soaked to the skin. It was Merky. He was wallowing in his defeat and crushed heart. I could never get Bes to give him her sweet yes. There came a point when Bes almost gave him a try, just because she trusted me too much but hey, that's my Bes! She wasn't one to enter a relationship out of pity. It would have been fantastic for my two best friends to be a couple. They're both happy now so all is good.

Astro was strangely affected by that night's events. It turned out he was wistful because while Merky shambled in the rain, Merky was wearing Astro's cowboy boots.

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*.* as if! @ 12:01:00 PM • • RBJ

I caught Mary Reilly last night on HBO. It stirred my insides in ways I could not describe. I now have a thing for John Malkovich. He's as old as my Pop but it doesn't matter. He'll be in my head for quite sometime. I'm on the hunt for a real live Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Something about restrained evil men turn me on. And the eyes, oh the eyes. Stare at me to eternity. Maybe that's why I'm attracted to geeks and dorks and shy boys. I want to bring out the animal in them. Rawr.

=============================

Tag Time! From Patty.
Instructions:
1. Go to your archives.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Find the 5th sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same thing.

The 5th sentence of my 23rd post is:
"Can't he even reason out?"

Five people I'm tagging:
1. Audrey
2. Can
3. Cher
4. Jey
5. Meann

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*.* as if! @ 12:09:00 PM • • RBJ

Gusto kong kumain sa Tokyo Tokyo o kaya ay sa Subway. Purgang-purga na ko sa KFC. Hindi naman sa nagrereklamo ako, pwede akong mamatay na tanging pagkain lang sa KFC ang aking kinakain.

Kagabi, sinubukan ko ang promo ng KFC na P75.00 para sa tatlong maanghang at malutong na pakpak ng manok at isang kanin. Bumili na rin ako ng maliit na coleslaw pantanggal ng suya. Todo sa sarap naman kase ang pritong manok ng KFC kaya nakakahinayang naman kung hindi ko ito mauubos dahil nagsawa ang aking panlasa.

Nakakatawa sa KFC kase kung hihingi ka ng malaking extra gravy, sisingilin ka nila ng P13.00. Eh di humingi na lang ako ng baso na may takip saka ko nilagyan ng gravy mula sa condiments area nila. Libre pa. P13.00 pala ang halaga ng pagbuhos ng gravy sa bawat baso. Eh kung magtrabaho kaya ako sa KFC na yun lang ang aking gagawin? Astig yun, makapuno lang ako ng isang daang baso, may P1,300.00 na ko. Hula ko wala pang isang oras ko yun gagawin.

Bago ako pumunta ng KFC, dumaan muna ako ng Mini-stop para bumili ng Hot Loops. Panalo ang donut na yun. Matamis na ang topping, may caramel pa na filling. O di ba, sugar-rush.

Pagdating na pagdating ko ng bahay, binuksan ko ang telebisyon, naghugas ng kamay at kumuha ng plato bago sumalampak sa sahig sa mesa sa sala. Hindi ko na nga muna hinubad ang aking suot na sapatos dahil hindi ko na mapigilan ang aking paglalaway. Sarrrrrap!

Pritong manok galore. Panalo.

Ayoko na basahin ang blog ni Mardeekay. Nagtitrip ako magtagalog eh.

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*.* as if! @ 11:32:00 AM • • RBJ

I was stepping off the building lobby last night and was lighting a cig when this horrible horrible sight greeted me. A girl (or so I thought) was sitting at the top step of the front stairs. She appeared to be a student of The School of Today located in our building. Her shirt was running up and her jeans were running low, waaaay too low actually. Her butt cleavage was exposed. It woulda been hot if she had smooth skin but there were zits, uneven skin tone and God-knows-what. Ew.

I sat at the flower pot with her still in view and observed the reactions of people passing by. There were some who snickered, some who crinkled their noses and some who didn't bother to contain their disgust as they exclaim, "Yuck!".

A girl who saw it approached the guy beside me and said, rather loudly, "Kita yung pwet ng babae!"

As I walked away and had the chance to see her face, I saw that it was a guy. A homosexual. No wonder he didn't care. That's a mean thing to say but it was almost a relief to find out he wasn't a girl.

===========================

Speaking of bottoms, I was watching MYX one time and Luis was ridiculing himself yet again. He's such a lame imitation of the goofy Utt. Anyway, he was talking about his bottoms and everytime he says ASS, production bleeped him while they aired BUTT and PWET.

What is it about ass that isn't suitable for television? What else would you call buttocks? Tush? Ass is ass. J.Lo's got a big ass. Ass is another name for donkey. Ass. Strange.

Oh btw, I hate the word pwet. I hate the word wetpacks even more.

===========================

I have this gross habit of spilling whatever I'm drinking while drinking it. Be it coffee, water, soda, soup or alcohol or be it from a glass, from a cup, from a tetrapack or from a bottle, it always finds a way not to pour right into my mouth. It's like, my mouth has slits at the side or something. Maybe I have this subconscious misconception that my mouth is bigger than it really is.

The even grosser habit would have to be how I deal with it. I either wipe my mouth with the sleeve, collar or neckline of whatever I'm wearing. Seldom would I ask or look for a table napkin. So, I'm not as cultured as I claim to be, huh?

Odd enough, some guys think it's adorable. Well, I do.

===========================

VERONICA MARS MOMENT:

"Love is an investment. Information is insurance and for someone whose heart has been crushed, I can't be too careful."

---------------------------

Here's something unyucky. I've made considerable progress with my write-ups. Thanks, Joe Sison, for the verrrry huuuuge help. ^_^

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*.* as if! @ 1:23:00 PM • • RBJ

Can I not say no? Must I be in constant waiting for your beckoning? Is it utterly imperative for me to heed your every invitation? Is it my duty to drop all I have in my hands to accept whatever you throw my way?

I do have a life, you know. Like you, I do have other friends. I miss you everyday but that doesn't mean I would be excessively ecstatic at the chance you would finally decide to give me to spend time with you.

I am your FRIEND. Not your PUPPY. Most definitely not your DOORMAT.

It pains me to tell you off the way I did but I refuse to be a push-over. It pains me even more to think that you think I am. It pains me to think that you think you can sway me by giving me a guilt trip. You're right, we seldom hang anymore but I doubt it has been my fault. I've had ten thousand invitations turned down and for me to turn you down this one time is almost too easy. But, I didn't. I did say I WILL FOLLOW after my prior commitment. I cannot just say NO. I cannot even if I wanted to... because I'm better than to get even.

ONE TREE HILL MOMENT:

LUCAS: Would you care for a joke?
BROOKE: Don't you think I'm one?

===================================

Here's a yes. For my first assignment for Greenpeace, I am tasked to do write-ups on three bands who expressed their support to the ongoing campaigns. In fear of preempting a project, I wouldn't share those articles until they've been published online. =) *excitement*

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*.* as if! @ 2:04:00 PM • • RBJ

I missed my doc's appointment yesterday. She seems always in a hurry; it's starting to annoy me. She needs a little more dedication to her profession. hihihi

I went straight home but not before making a quick stop to the grocery store to buy prepaid load for my cell. I realize now that I have this thing for the grocery. Something about it gives me satisfaction in orgasmic levels. I bought shampoo, bath soap, canned corned beef and laundry powder although my supplies are still fully stocked. When I was at the cashier, it turned out that they ran out of prepaid cards. I paid for my grocery and as I stepped out, I realized I completely lost sight of why I went to the store in the first place. I came in for load, left without it, and spent dough on unnecessities.

I walked in a slow pace, enjoying the star-filled night. I reached the house, opened the door, settled my groceries on the dining table and headed to my room to slip on comfy house clothes.

I settled for a tank top and gym shorts. I went to the living room, tuned in to Will and Grace on ETC and went to the kitchen. I washed my hands, then gathered my ingredients while enjoying the funny antics of my favorite couple.

1 large onion bulb
2 small tomatoes
3 pieces garlic
1 pack 13-gram Del Monte Spaghetti Sauce
1 can Purefoods Corned Beef
1 pack Spaghetti noodles (I have memory gap. I don't remember the brand)
1 pack Quickmelt cheese

I minced the onion, tomatoes and garlic. Cut the Spaghetti Sauce open. Opened the can of corned beef. Opened the pack of spaghetti noodles.

I filled a pot with water up to a little more than half then settled it on the stove. I opened the gas tank and turned on the stove. I took a pan, settled it on low fire and waited till smoke rose from the surface. I took Minola cooking oil and poured about a teaspoon on the pan.

When bubbles formed in the cooking oil, I sauteed the garlic till light brown, then sauteed the onion until translucent. I put in the corned beef, added a little more oil and mixed till the shreds disintegrated. I poured in the spaghetti sauce and added a teaspoon of sugar. I, then, added the tomatoes.

When the water in the pot started to boil, I added a tablespoon of salt. I took a bundle of noodles, snapped them in half and put it in the simmering water. After fifteen minutes, I removed the pot from the fire and drained the noodles. I placed the noodles under running water for about a minute to let it cool off and to avoid them from sticking to each other.

I placed the noodles on a plate, added sauce and grated cheese on top. I took the plate, got the bottle of Sprite from the fridge and settled on the living room center table. I was just in time for The OC.

I'm no chef and what I cooked was no gourmet food but hey, where else can you eat a mouthful of spaghetti, not worry about the falling strands and sauce all over your chin while watching you favorite TV show?

After The OC, I washed the dishes then proceeded to washing my bedsheet which was the unfortunate casualty from my Saturday hangover. I scrubbed the bathroom floor a bit after, watched Charmed and this feature on the Bermuda Triangle on Discovery, squeaked my wonderland clean, then went to bed. I think I covered about a little more than a chapter of Santa Evita before drifting off to lalaland... Boy, was I stuffed.

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*.* as if! @ 5:10:00 PM • • RBJ

I did say "we be drunk giddy girls enjoying a fine Friday night". I only kept my promise. It may have gone a little overboard but hey, who would gawddaym remember, anyway? Even I couldn't. o^_^o

One of these days, I'd buy Nakpil. I swear I will. So, everything I do along that street would be my business alone. I would effin' own the place! That's hot.

I received sad news when I dropped by CG and found out Manager Aries has left for London. He was replaced by this Ricky person who I didn't get to meet because my stilletos weren't sober enough to keep me upright. Thank God they led me to the kitchen where I gave sweaty Chef Janjie his kiss and hug.

Johnny boobooboo's leaving for San Fran today for the sembreak. That's two weeks of absence. Not like it matters. I haven't been with him since his drag queen of a girlfriend's been around. But hey, they're "on the verge of breakin but whatevs.Ü". Johnny boobooboo really does love sweet sweet Floi but the biAtch is too committed to being non-committal. Whatevs. ^_^

What a perfectly lovely Saturday spent throwing up and drifting in and out of consciousness. That has got to be the worst hangover ever ever ever.

In Sidebar Ortigas on Saturday night, with my girl Loiza, her boy Marnie, hot chick Nadine and Mama Pauline, I had Sisig and Mango Shake and still felt drunk. I swear, I must've had alcohol poisoning but my blood's already highly toxic on its own. I survived.

On Sunday, I finally met the latest addition to the Pablo Clan. Baby Xyna Revelle was born on October 12, 2005. She's lovely as her Tita Ninang. Oh, a baby is indeed a blessing! Such joy she brought to everyone who came to see her. I see Kuya in a different light now but I'll get to that in another post.

Mykel celebrated his birthday last night. But, after the girlfriend incident on Elmer's birthday, this sane girl decided not to go. Sad. I always had funn with those boys. Oh well.

Checked my stalker stats and somebody found my blog by yahooing his name again. When will it ever end?! I am so not deleting my posts if it were the solution you came up with. Shoo! Don't bother me.

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*.* as if! @ 11:44:00 AM • • RBJ

It was a lovely evening. I took the MRT instead of getting a cab because I miss public transportation. I love being around strangers. The MRT was full but a good man offered me his seat. I walked through SM and Glorietta with a spring on my steps. Then...

I have just walked past McD and Pizza Hut when my eyes travelled to the lane across. A familiar face. It couldn't be. With a familiar girl. Whapack! I froze. The people walked past me as I stared at the couple with my feet planted where I stood. They were getting on the escalator. When they disappeared from my view, I ran. After them. I lost control of my feet. I, the walk-out queen, ran after THEM. The reason behind doing so eluded me. I took the escalator but they were nowhere in sight. He was holding some paperbags which made me figure they were shopping. I turned left towards the tiangge. My eyes were fixed on an imaginary spot right in front of me. With trembling fingers, my heart in my throat and the tears welling up threatening to fall at the corners of my eyes, I dialled Nico's number. I did not know why and I did not know for what. Just hearing his voice told me I was not doing the right thing. I retraced my path and as I exited the tiangge section, I was greeted by Gold's Gym. Ah, work-out maybe.

I said goodbye to Nico and dialled the person more sensible to call. There was a communication error at my first call but when I tried again, a groggy Ariane listened to me yet whine again about the boy I supposedly broke up with in her apartment the morning I left Cebu. A good five-minute call later, I've regained my composure but the spring and giddiness before the encounter was irrecoverable.

Ho looked different. Maybe he did or maybe I just looked at him differently. I've known all along that I haven't completely moved on. He just made it appear so by disappearing from my life. Like, he was never in it. We might as well be strangers. They might as well be just another couple in the mall that reminded me of a past dream.

He is a stranger. He has the name and the face that made my heart gallop in the immediate past. He has the name and the face that I've held on dearly in my heart. But, I doubt he is the person.

Whenever I thought of him, I made a distinction between the him when we were together and the him when we were not. The him when we were together was up on a pedestal, the perfect man who did and said all the perfect things at the perfect time at the perfect place. The him when we were not was hidden behind my consciousness, distant from my logical thinking, blanketed by my emotions. The him when we were not still did and said all the perfect things at the perfect time at the perfect place but not for me, only for himself.

I hate myself for believing I have gotten over us, when there wasn't even an us to get over from to begin with. Perhaps, it was I alone who fell. It was I alone who decoded his intentions as reciprocation of my own. When I thought he lied by claiming another girl's name as his girlfriend, it must have been an auditory dysfunction on my part. [Nitz = Liz] He never meant to hurt me, thus, he never had the heart to tell me off. I and nobody else hurt myself. I am womyn but I am primarily human.

Do we truly fall in love with a person or do we only take his/her identity to personify our ideal partner?

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*.* as if! @ 10:56:00 AM • • RBJ

I went to the doc yesterday and I came out clean. In reward, I bought me red Dorothy of Oz stilletos. *bliss* Shoes are a girl's best friend.

In the hit movie Got 2 Believe starring the late Rico Yan and the fabulous Claudine Barretto, Yan played a successful bachelor terrified of the idea of marriage while Baretto played a consistent achiever doomed to being eternal maid of honor due to her feistiness.

In one of the scenes where his budding emotions for Barretto started to become apparent, Yan shared his concerns about marriage to Barretto's father played by Noel Trinidad.

Trinidad advised that a wife is similar to house slippers. A man may wear the most expensive shoes when going places but at the end of the day, he still goes home to his snug house slippers. Yan appeared to have appeased his apprehensions toward a lifetime ball and chains.

Would any cosmo girl be concordant to this analogy? I wouldn't. I don't find it flattering to be likened to footwear only worn when the rest of the world is out of the scene. I deserve to be flaunted, to be swanked because I consider myself swanky. I refuse to be a simple housewife at home waiting all day for her working husband, attending to household chores.

I am not alone. A relatively larger percentage of women in this generation than in the past share these sentiments. Urbane women now rarely give up their social life, career and interests for those of their husbands, much less their boyfriends. We have come to a point where boyfriends are more dispensable than our make-up. Make-up won't keep us warm at night, but neither can men when they are out flirting with other girls giving us the classic "working late" excuse.

Sadly though, majority is still willing to wait in the sidelines as their men re-affirm their machismo by pursuing other women. Is it because they are too afraid of the 1:3 male to female ratio (not including the priests and homosexuals)? Does the thought of not finding anyone better terrify the wit out of them?

I speak not of not believing in love and commitment and scurrying as fast as your Manolos can take you at the first sign of inconvenience. It is a matter of self-preservation. You just don't let yourself get too attached. You remain prepared to live your life on your own anytime the relationship fails because you did not throw your life away in exchange for his. When he finds someone prettier, more intellectual, sexier, but considerably less smarter than you, you are not left lost and baffled. You don't end up being a pair of overused Spartans.

If it is quite necessary to compare me to slippers, I'd rather it be a pair of Havaianas.

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*.* as if! @ 1:52:00 PM • • RBJ

The longest relationship (and the only one worthy of being called so) I've been in formally lasted for one year, six months and twenty days. The operative word being formally. We've been together for a year before we finally decided to be boyfriend-girlfriend.

Everyone wasn't thrilled. In fact, I have reason to believe that the only ones who were excited were him and myself. It was, literally, a cheesy you-and-me-against-the-world set-up. All that really mattered was us. It was funny because we both had his and her nasty little devils coaxing us not to stay together. I was too liberated for him; he was too boring for me, they said.

We ended because... I did get bored. We ended because... I did feel tied down.

We ended because... I was selfish and self-centered and stupid and indignant. I grew wary of walking all the way to the middle to meet him when I wanted to just stay in place. I got tired of having to compromise. The world is too big for me to feel limited. I dreamed big and did not share his simple joys. Bottom line is that I fell out of love because I outgrew our relationship.

We used to defend our relationship by saying that physically speaking, we were compatible. We complemented each other. He filled in what I was short of. I filled in what he was short of. But, why did I fall out?

In relationships, is it true that opposites attract or do opposites only attract trouble?

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*.* as if! @ 11:25:00 AM • • RBJ

One of the enduring movielines of our time goes, "Life is like a box of chocolates; you'll never know what you're gonna get."

While probability can now be computed based on withstanding data, there is no proven equation to determine predictability. Everything is probable but nothing is predictable per se. Everything that can happen may happen and, God forbid, will happen. A minute, an hour, a day, a week or a month from now, something is bound to occur that shall have little or extensive effect on the future - not just yours but to everyone else, even to people you never knew existed.

It is common knowledge that millions fall ill everyday. Thousands are admitted to hospitals on a daily basis. A percentage of those thousands suffer from malignant, incurable, rare or even undiagnosed diseases. We know this, but we are indifferent nonetheless because it seems surreal to us. It seems the probability of us or anyone close to us to be a part of these statistics is very low. Nothing is as it seems. The unexpected will fire through regardless if we are wearing our vests or not.

The unexpected takes us aback. It makes us take a moment and breathe. It makes us ponder over our own lives, at the expense of one's that may be at the brink of being lost. It reminds us that no matter who we are, where we are and what we have, we are not exemption to the unpleasant elements of existence. We are all crawling worms at the mercy of a higher complex being.

We come to realize that no problem is too intolerable, no person is too powerful and no achievement is too great. We are driven to not just see but to look, not just hear but listen, not just smell but savor, not just taste but relish, not just touch but feel, not just know but care... to not just be alive but to LIVE. We return to the innocence of our youth, untainted of the extravagance the modern world necessitized.

Why does it have to take a hideous circumstance to remind us of the splendor of life?

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*.* as if! @ 12:23:00 PM • • RBJ

One of my dearest sisters is lying in the ICU of PGH for encephalitis. The news came as a shock and I almost wept to tell myself this is reality and not a bad dream (because it has been a while since I had one). I informed her batchmate in the sorority and a couple of sisses who I know are in Manila. She is badly in need of blood donors.

I remember her as vibrant, outgoing and witty. These are the reasons she was one of the sisses I grew closest to after joining the sorority. Another would be my high school friend's sister being her org mate and blocmate. Six degrees of separation, so they say. I haven't seen her for quite some time and I find it terrible to see her again in her present condition.

I have a confession. I don't deal with illnesses that well. My body's initial reaction is denial. I don't visit the sick in the hospital. I don't like hospitals. Except maybe for the nursery, I despise hospitals. I can't say why, I just do. When my Mum had her reproductive system removed, I merely visited her once - for about half an hour. Inevitably misunderstood as not caring, it is one weakness (fear?) I pray I could get over soon.

When I had my check-up Monday of last week (in Healthway Shang which TG doesn't resemble a hospital), I was delighted to know that for the very first time, I had normal blood pressure. I have always had low blood pressure, somewhat due to my anemia. For the very first time, I was eligible to donate blood. BUT, I still can't because my blood is still contaminated with cannabis sativa. Pssshhh... So, anyone, please be a good samaritan and share your blood for my sis.

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*.* as if! @ 11:15:00 AM • • RBJ

I have three posts saved as draft. I was going to do final editing for publishing when Lara oh-so-emphatically asked for assistance regarding this Statistical problem:

The distribution of weights of a product that is being mass produced at a certain factory was found to be a normal distribution with an average of 5.2 kg and a standard deviation of 0.1 kg. Products that weigh less than 5.0 kg are rejected during the company’s internal inspection process. What is the percentage of products manufactured at this plant that are rejected?

Standard normal distribution table
u P
0.0 0.500
0.5 0.309
1.0 0.159
1.5 0.067
2.0 0.023
2.5 0.006
3.0 0.001

a)　0.1 b)　0.6 c)　2.3 d)　4.6

Now, I was expected to answer this problem. It's fairly basic, that much I know. But I could only stare at it. It's like, I have this memory gap. I could not remember one single lesson in Stat I learned aside those from Stat 1.

All I could rack from my brain is that the average is the mean symbolized by u (mu) and P is the probability values. Since it is a normal distribution, we have a bell curve meaning the graph is symmetric echos echos.

I knowww I knew how to solve this kind of problems back then. I just don't know why my Statistical knowledge seemed to have entirely been eternal sunshined from my spotless mind. Poof! Gone.

Math geniuses Tiepee, Ele, Roan and Julz, a little help, please? This is verrry frustrating for moi.

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*.* as if! @ 11:56:00 AM • • RBJ