Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Finger Memory

Interesting bit of trivia... Apparently, it's a scientifically proven fact that our fingers have memories. Or I guess to be anal about it - our brains have memories of our fingers. Ok no, that doesn't sound right either.

Anyway, the point is, it takes 2 years for our fingers to "forget" we wore a ring. So we continue to instinctively feel the area with our thumb even after we've taken the ring off, for 2 years at least.

I just find it pretty amazing that our ears or necks don't feel the same way with other pieces of jewelry. What is it about rings -- is there a deeper meaning to this phenomena? Is this related to being in relationships, i.e. are we supposed to take 2 years to "forget" we were married?

Obviously, I have waaaaay too much time on my fingers.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

The Next 80s Idol

I got my hair cut yesterday. I had only meant to color it but Sonny kept bugging and bugging me for a trim until I said yes. Just a couple of inches he said. Not much...

ARGH! My hair now rounds about my face like a space helmet and then drops down in a very tapered cut. I look like a lollipop head with 80s poufy hair. And I'm missing about 4 inches!! Sonny said he was cutting off all my dead hair - uh... isn't all hair already dead????

Groan.

Friday, June 17, 2005

Good-byes

I hate good-byes. They always mean the end of something as we know it, and while something else may begin as a result, I always need time for mourning what is being lost. And even if something better may come up, I actually liked things the way they were!

This week in Manila has been harder than most because of the rounds of despedidas for my boss Harvey, who's leaving P&G. Sniff sniff. He's been my boss directly or indirectly, for 4 years in 3 different assignments! That's really rare anywhere so I can't help but feel sentimental... losing a boss sucks, but having 1 less friend in the company hurts.

And you can tell that despite being our boss, Harvey's more like a friend, even a dad - especially when he tells me to pull my shirt down or bring my pants up to cover my belly button. We (his 3 angels or cronies more like) all started bawling away after he told us he was leaving. That's Mr. Clean, the Boss, Ariel and Tide. :)

We had his going-away karaoke session at Redbox, which was so much fun because 1) of all the booze, 2) no one wanted to give up the mic and 3) all of Raffy's candid shots (which I'm not posting because I doubt anyone would want to see our feet).

Saturday, June 11, 2005

Non-Negotiables

Yotch is drooling over Thom Filicia (the interior designer on Queer Eye), whose autograph she got today.

I had to keep reminding her that no matter how cute he is (and I don't even think so!!), he happens to be gay. And I'm sorry if this is politically incorrect, but I'm afraid that's a non-negotiable! I don't have a lot of those, but being gay is definitely one of them.

Rule #1 - The man should look and act like a man. This is a no-brainer... You should never be in danger of being mistaken for the man in the relationship. I don't want a man who has boobs that are bigger than mine, or alternatively, who looks like an ironing board with nipples.

Not to say that thin men can't be good (i.e. Ryan Gosling, Keanu Reeves) - just as long as he looks like 1) he won't blow away with the wind and, 2) he can protect you (refer to #2). We're talking about a MAN - boys need not apply, even those who are already men but look like boys. You don't want to end up looking like their mother or older sister (ugh).

He doesn't need to be gorgeous, but it definitely wouldn't hurt if he is on the road to hunk-dom. But note that no matter how good-looking, it counts for nothing if 1) he prefers other men or, 2) he doesn't act like a true man who treats his woman with love and respect. Enough said.

#2 - The man must know how to save you. It may never happen but he should be at least capable of saving you from other men, drowning, earthquakes and avalanches. At the very least, this covers his walking on the car-side of the street, knowing when to un-coil electrical wires, insisting on a seat belt and other such protective gestures. In short, he must not be a wimp.

#3 - The man must know how to drive. And I'm not talking about an automatic or bump cars. He must know how to drive a stick (preferably while holding your hand) and be focused on the road even as you distract him with witty repartee. He should know how to parallel park in under 10 seconds (my own personal gauge of driving skill). And importantly, he must know how to get you somewhere fast for emergencies... like a sale.

#4 - The man must know his way around things. This is very broad but it covers knowing how to assemble furniture, connect 1 wire thingamajig to the other and fix things that are broken. And even if he can't do any of the above, he will tinker and attempt and read the manual over and over before giving up and calling the hired guns. A real man will always pretend to know what to do. This behavior is hard-wired into their genetic code and is directly linked to their ego.

#5 - The man must dress like a man. No white sports socks or brown belts with black shoes!! He must look good in pajamas, casual, sporty and formal attire. He should know that shirts bought at the baby section don't look good on grown men and that pants that taper to their ankles are really leggings in disguise. He should know how to tie a tie (drool), when to tuck in or untuck a shirt and when to leave the top button open or roll up the sleeves.

Of course, the list may change and expand or reduce with time and desperation. The important thing is that while we don't compromise what we want, we realize that men are and can be, trainable (note: I said trainable, not and never under).

The key is in being such a good trainer that the trainee will never know that they are, in fact, being trained. But that's for another blog entry.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

The Solution to World Peace

I am such a scatter-brain. Within a span of 4 weeks, I lost my wallet (in Rome), my company ID (in Manila), my eyeglasses and my new shades (groan... in Beijing), and my company phone (in Singapore). Argh argh argh argh.

So now I'm walking around blind as a bat without the super hearing powers, with my ratty, old, bulky wallet that I've had since high school (ugh). I have to call my secretary to let me in the office every morning and then molest her further by borrowing her phone the whole day to make phone calls. I have a security record now in the company, and 1 day I'm sure they'll use that as an excuse to fire me.

The upside is... I've found the solution to world peace! Of course, this assumes that everyone is near-sighted. BUT, I've realized that without my glasses, people are actually looking more and more attractive to me, and most definitely from afar. As a result, I'm also nicer to them and vice-versa.

It's sad but true - beautiful people get less crap and since I'm seeing the world with a fuzzy kind of quality, everyone's beautiful now (and kind of distorted) so there's no more crap from me. I do tend to be so shallow that way.

Plus I can't tell who's who so I'm nice to everyone, in fear that the person I'm being bitchy to, might actually be my boss. It's so bad, I can't even tell the color of your skin or your nationality until I talk to you (yes, I'm that blind).

So that's my answer to world peace - a world where no one can tell beauty, rank, race or religion from 1st glance, until you actually know them. I think the world would be a much nicer place to live in if God made us all just a little bit blind.

I'm almost sad to be getting my specs again.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

Good thing I didn't have to do the Night Safari again...

Met Yam and Abi over the weekend while they're here in Singapore for the Great Sale. It's always nice to meet up with old friends - we were reminiscing last night and we realized that we've been friends since 3rd grade!! Hard to believe it's been 16 years...

With old friends, you don't need to put your best foot forward - they've known you since you were a scrawny bully with a decade of bad hair days so it's no use pretending otherwise. There's something to be said about just being you, and knowing you're not being judged for that.

We've grown up in all sort of different directions literally - Yam is moving to Canada soon - but there's comfort in knowing that no matter how time passes and treats us, there's always a haven of friendship to return to. I'm getting sentimental... That's us at my apartment.




I had fun this weekend even if all we did was eat and walk around. That's us at Marche with our new friend, Jeff's officemate, Federico who Abi immediately offered to take around Manila. There's a shortage of Greek gods, so she's settling for a half-Italian man. :)

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Beijing

Beijing has changed so much since the last time I was there! I still remember staying in squishy carpeted hotel rooms with cockroaches crawling around the bathroom (ew ew ew). Now the city's covered in greenery with major construction projects in every corner, gearing up for the 2008 Olympics.

I was really there for some business, but as it stretched out over the weekend, I was able to re-visit the famous sights. On Saturday, Jan, Stephane and I went to the Forbidden City and its 9000 rooms, Tiananmen Square and took a bicycle cab to the Temple of Harmony. The little girl is Emma, Stephane's cute daughter, wearing the cheong sam I negotiated for 30RMB.


Everything in Beijing is at least 30 minutes away - the city is huuuuge! So don't believe that you can walk anywhere, even when people insist you can - cab, cab, cab all the way.

On Sunday, I woke up early for the 2-hour drive to climb the Great Wall. I quit half-way (I'm getting old...) though it was a good enough vantage point where I was standing to enjoy the view. There were so many people there, I had to wonder if the dead buried underneath mind the stomping, huffing and puffing that go on every single day. Ugh... morbid thought.

The Summer Palace is a bit of a drive, and you have to watch out for drivers who want you to pay more than the meter. But I thought it was much nicer than the Forbidden City. The lake is absolutely fantastic and I loved just sitting by the steps - pure serenity and calm, even in the midst of the chaos that can be Beijing. Time really did seem to stop or at least slow down for a while, relative to the rest of the world.

The food was terrific and the company was easy so it didn't much feel like a work weekend, though Jan did take us to a lot of cultural restaurants, complete with falsetto singing (a lot of yodeling) and dancing. That's my team right there... (standing) Raina, Hiep, Serge, Nair, Billy, Butch, (sitting) Janet, Stephane, me and Edwin. I had a great time going around and if I had stayed a few more days, I'm sure my Mandarin would have dramatically improved.


I was already translating poems (!) in restaurants, bargaining, asking for directions, arguing with taxi drivers and ordering stuff off the menu. I have to say... I was kinda impressed with myself considering I hadn't spoken the language since high school! :) I was even more impressed that my friends trusted me that much, since it was obvious I was relying more on facial expressions and hand gestures to communicate. It's pretty much a miracle that we weren't lost in translation, lost in the city, cheated (at least I don't think so) or didn't accidentally order weird items like cow's head.

If only work was always this fun.