andiecrafts

You ought to have heard of the saying “right kind of wrong” at least once in your life (as for me, I heard it in a song). As far as my limited knowledge is concerned, it is something that is considered wrong albeit its being right as being wrong. Yes, I’m sure that made it more understandable for everyone. OK, I’m thinking about saying “You are fat,” with the rudest face you could possibly ever muster, straight to the face of someone who is 300 pounds overweight but just doesn’t want to admit it. Being rude is wrong, but being honest is right. In this case, being rude is absolutely wrong, however, the honesty despite the rudeness made it a right kind of wrong. For all loophole finders out there, I know there are millions of loopholes (yay for you) in this argument, but to hell with arguments (for now). As this is my blog, let me get to my point.

Wait! How about vengeance, huh? Vengeance is wrong, especially when you end up killing someone (which is cool, but only in the movies). Anyway, people who choose the path of vengeance usually have reasons (and sometimes, logical at that), that seem right at that time. Ta-da! Right kind of wrong!

Anyway, the right kind of wrong generally feeds many of the most basic human qualities. Greed (chocolate cake, need I say more?), romance (didn’t I just say I heard “right kind of wrong” from a song?), Pride, blah, blah, blah. The wrong kind of right, on the other hand, is plain funny, basing on my experience today.

Let me begin with a not-so-little background. I am spending my on-the-job training at a cosmetics company, and there are, currently, four others with me. Edward (makasawa, puryagaba, hahaha…), Mujik (barkada, buti na lang), and two Pisayans, Michelle and Veyellah. I am having a lot of fun with them (though I can’t say the same for a lot of other factors) especially with the youthful high school students. It is fun talking with them, seeing as how much they remind me of my bittersweet high school years. People in Pisay generally are the same throughout the years. Despite how intelligent they are, they tend to be a bit slow in certain stuff. In our times, we label those people with LOTS (Lower-Order Thinking Skills) or NOTS (No Order Thinking Skills). As for Mich and Vye’s batch, they describe the phenomenon as LG (Low Gets).

They have this classmate who has had more than her fair share of LG moments (quite like the way I had, and still am having, LOTS and NOTS moments). Let’s call the classmate “Sec.”

Sec: (approaches a classmate) Ui… Alam mo, yung carpenter namin, hindi kumakain ng meat!

Classmate: Wow! Vegetarian siya?

Sec: Huh? Hindi.

CM: Ano pala siya?

Sec: Carpenter.

Sabi ko nga. Wrong kind of right. I mean, she’s right, right? Their carpenter who does not eat meat is, after all, a carpenter. Who could argue with that?

Nyahahaha!!!

Barely an hour ago, my dad called. Whatever we talked about made me feel like a fifteen-year-old once again. But in a really bad way.

Before I officially start ranting, I better discuss the real deal with honesty: it sucks. People keep telling you to be honest, but they never really appreciate the truth. Maybe because the truth has this natural ability of being inconvenient at the worst possible time. So when people tell you that all they want in their relationships is honesty, they’re lying. And that’s the truth.

Anyway, I am really trying my best to be honest as much as I possibly can. And since I’m starting to think more maturely (yeah right), I decided to be completely honest with my parents. Almost three weeks into my new pierce, I told my mum I got one. I knew she’d be upset, but hey, I am officially an adult, and not to mean any disrespect, but my decisions have to account for something, right? Maybe I wasn’t being completely honest with her. I have reasons for having this pierce. And maybe the reason why I didn’t express them was the fact that they were a bit cheesy (self expression thing, blah, blah, blah…). If I am a natural cynic, then take note of this: whatever traits I have (well, make that MOST of the traits I have. I mean, my parents would not have thought about getting a tongue pierce in the first place. And that doesn’t come from insanity. It comes from a trait only I have, and for simplification purposes, let’s call that trait “Jane.”), I inherited from my parents with a third of its natural intensity. That means if I am insane, my parents are three times more insane than I am (and to put it simply, no cynic in their right minds would ever believe someone getting a pierce for the reasons that I got mine). Imagine an Andie with three times the personality. Scary, I know.

She was upset. Normal. She threatened to pry it out with the nail-prying part of a hammer (I think she views this pierce as simply a piece of rusty nail in the middle of my mouth, or maybe that’s just me). Bearable. But when she began equating the pierce with an Andie that would never graduate with honors, that was when I started to get pissed off. When did a pierce of any kind contribute to someone’s deterioration (mentally, emotionally, and psychologically)? I have been used to believe that when you constantly declare something, it will come true. I constantly openly declare that I will graduate with honors. I will be known as Andie, the underachieving overachiever Cum Laude. But my parents just want to do otherwise. I think I’m starting to love them a little less.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, my mom decided to tell my dad. I was planning to tell him that I got a pierce when he gets back on August, but my mom just had to spill the beans. So my dad gave me this utterly exasperating lecture about me not being from the slum areas, and that I am a college student, and that no college student not coming from the slum areas (equation: college student U* person not living in the slums) has a tongue pierce, blah, blah, blah. It kind of bring back memories. Like the time he lectured me about Ateneo (de Davao) being the best place for me to go to college, because they have great teachers, and the curriculum was great, and that I’d learn a lot of things there, and a bunch pf other stuff that never really came true. Oh, except for the “close to home” part. Good days. Wish I could relive them.

Then came a worse part (trust me, there’s a worst coming up). He got on the Andie-the-not-Cum-Laude part. God! I am starting to think they do not want me to be a Cum Laude! As if they were preparing for me to be a bum for the rest of my life! I know my parents have been pretty supportive, but couldn’t they just push it a bit further? Or maybe this is their way of showing their support… Hmmm… Never thought about that. They know I hate it when they declare negative things, but I guess it really is difficult to teach old dogs new tricks. Sorry for all the 48 year-olds out there, but as far as I know, the two 48 year-olds in my life are really difficult to teach some new principles. Yay! Another truth that hurts like hell!

Then the worst part (exciting, yay, drumroll please). He started asking about my OJT, which, during its first week, sucks like hell. Then he went on with my English tutoring job. He (again, as if the first time didn’t hurt enough) expressed the probability of me graduating without honors, and gave out the suggestion that I should just quit my job. OK, that I could understand. He’s a father, and he must be really concerned (though he’s showing it in a twisted kind of way). I was about to explain why I am considering keeping my job, when the worst thing he could possibly say was said by him (last eleven words said in a Mojo Jojo way).

Stop ka na lang muna sa job mo. Hayaan mo, bibigyan ka na lang namin ni Mama mo ng extra allowance.

Ouch! Aray! Aguy! You probably have no idea how this statement has hurt me. Let me make things clear: I AM NOT WORKING AS AN ENGLISH TUTOR FOR THE PAY!!! I AM WORKING BECAUSE I FIND THE RESULTS OF MY TEACHING MUCH MORE FULFILLING THAT ANYTHING I HAVE EVER DONE MY ENTIRE LIFE!!! This statement has made me appear like someone who is desperate for money. If I was, then I would not have woken up early just to get to work at 5:30 in the morning for the past 11 (almost 12) months. If I was, then I would not have bothered getting out of bed just to get a pay of about 2,500 bucks every month (ever since the start of second semester, I work under time because of my effing 7:40 AM classes, and now, because of my OJT). And If I was, I would have called in sick during those days I felt so tired and not felt like going to work. Not once during those 11-turning-12 months have I called in sick (though I have been late a couple of times), and that can’t possibly be because I am working only, and for no other reasons than, money.

I know my parents know I hate it when they declare negative things happening to me. I know my parents know just how fulfilled my job is making me feel. And I know my parents know I must have a good reason for having this pierce. I just do not know why they are so stubborn. If only there is a personality softener for sale on our local supermarkets.

I know my life has gotten a bit more complicated, just when I was beginning to think it couldn’t possibly get any more complicated. I am being forced to quit a job I like. I am being forced to remove something I like. All because I was being honest.

Honesty sucks. I always thought being more honest is a sign of maturity, but it gets you into more trouble than you could possibly imagine. I guess I was making the effort of being more honest with my parents because as an adult, I thought that whatever I decided to do, they would respect. But the way they dealt with me puts me on defense once again. Just like the rebellious fifteen year-old that I once was.

*union

The only DFAT (Davao Food Appreciation Tour organized by Ate Ria) event I joined probably concluded as one of the best meals I have ever had my entire life. And I am über thankful I was able to eat there before I had my tongue pierced.

It was the second time I have ever had that kind of setting. I mean the five-course-meal thing. The first one was about five years ago (my 3rd year Prom), and back then, I was wearing this awfully gay prom dress (by the way, we had our Prom then at Marco Polo, too). It was my first meal at Polo Bistro, but seeing as my last two meals at Marco Polo was a witness to an Andie wearing her school uniform, I didn’t bother dressing up. Wrong move. The place was really cool and all, and sometimes you really have to dress the part to feel the part. Since I wore my usual jeans and shirt attire, I felt like a pauper amidst all the princes and princesses that joined the DFAT. I looked more yagit than Kuya Winston.And they call him Batang Yagit. Where’s the justice in that?!?

The first thing I noticed about the place was the amazing view. We were accommodated with this long-table setup, which offered two types of view: for people seated on one side of the table, the pool, and for the others, some sort of building with symmetrical lights. I was seeing the latter. The most amazing thing about our view was that since it was summer, lightnings were becoming more frequent, and you could actually see the lightning spread itself across the sky like tree roots. All in a split second. Wish I had a camera, strike one.

The chef guy was also pretty cool. He was kind of showing off his cooking prowess the way they do on the telly, and had I been a wee bit closer to the chef, I would have cheered him on. Anyway, I was located the farthest from the chef, so I didn’t bother. I would have bothered a little bit more than I did, though, had I known he would serve us some really amazing food. You should have seen the food! Wish I had a camera, strike two.

To start off, we had Seared Tuna with Cucumber and Crabstick Relish. I know now why they call appetizers appetizers. Because once you have some, you can’t help but want more. I kind of miss the pepper around the Tuna (I can’t eat anything spicy for the next two months because of this metal thing in the middle of my mouth), and I really do wish I could just go back there and eat some appetizers all night long. Haha. Adik.

The soup, French Onion Soup with 3 Cheeses: Mozzarella, Parmesan, and Ementhal, was heaven for cheese lovers. That includes me. But it was also quite filling, so I didn’t quite finish it off for fear that I would have little space left for the Main Course.

Prior to the Main Course, we had a Mixed Fruits and Greens Salad. It was really good, except that since the Main Course was also being served then, I quite overlooked it (I ate about a quarter of my salad). The Main Course, Prawn Thermidore, was worth the rashes on my back and the merciless asthma attack I got the next day. It was a feast for all of my senses. The creaminess of the sauce and the tenderness of the shrimps were really nerve wracking in a good way. I love, I love, I love!!!

As for dessert, we had Coconut and Mango Crème Brûlée. Heaven!!! I love mangoes and custard, so need I say more? Yes I do!!! I L O V E I T!!!

If you have plans of eating a really good meal, and have some moolah to spare, please go to Polo Bistro. It is one of the best restaurants in Davao, and as a Davaoeña, I could not ask for more. Oh wait, maybe I could. For some cash so that I could revisit Polo Bistro and indulge, one more time? Anybody willing to spare me some change?

Man, am I hungry…

Around 12.5 hours ago, I did something I have been wanting to do for the past two years: get my tongue pierced. My first tongue pierce, and hopefully, my last (that is if insanity does not strike again).

My mom and I are currently not talking to each other, but I doubt if anyone of us is angry. It’s just that we had a fight last Sunday. Anyway, I doubt if I’ll be talking to her anytime soon. If she finds out prematurely (that means, ever) that I had my tongue pierced, I’m dead meat.

Anyway, I bought the stud (with a Yin-Yang design) yesterday at GMall (for 650 pesos). Piercing is free, except that I had to go to this secluded place in Illustre called Rhostie’s Tattoo (a tatoo and piercing parlor). The place was really small, and I mean, really small. Plus it was located somewhere I would never had known for the life of me had I not decided to get my tongue pierced. Anyway, I started relaxing when I knew that the place has been operating for around ten years. Just so everyone knows, the pierce was over in a flash. The preparation(sterilization and stuff) took much longer than the act of piercing itself.

For those who are planning to get their tongue pierced, here are a few facts/points/tips you should know:

• If you have really decided on getting your tongue pierced, DO NOT WATCH VIDEOS ON YOUTUBE. It will just scare you off your wits. And I’m telling you, a tongue pierce isn’t that bad.
• A tongue pierce hurts much less than an ear pierce. I swear. The only thing with a tongue pierce is that you need to get used to that thing in the middle of your mouth. I’m still trying to get used to it.
• Ice cream, yogurt, really cold water, and cooled soup is the best for a tongue pierce. Yes, you cannot eat solid food for a few days. I bought heaps of yogurt for my tongue pierce, and it sucks after a while. So you might want to have a bit of soup once in a while, though you will regret it badly if you dared to drink your soup while it’s hot.
• OraCare is much better than Listerine. Trust me.

Right now, my tongue has swollen up a bit. They say it is going to be swollen for a couple of days, which is cool since it’s Holy Week, and I won’t be going out of the house anytime soon. I just feel a little dizzy, seeing as I haven’t had solid (fries, burgers, and anything DRY) food for the past 24 hours.

Today, I have had 2 cups of yogurt, and some soup with a bit of croûtons (which I call heaven!!!). You bet I’m hungry.

Oh, and for the record, I’m taking some antibiotics (500 mg Amoxicillin) once a day, for five days. And some Vitamin C to speed up healing.

I’m really hungry. And dizzy. I better get some sleep.

It has been almost two weeks since the Davao Food Trip at Cafe Vivere, but I still have that distinct taste of tomatoes fresh in my memory. Anyway, let me start (as usual) with a brief introduction.

Tuesday is a day of usual boredom, so the chance to join for lunch at Cafe Vivere was a more-than-welcome treat to my would-have-been boring afternoon. Kuya Winston had to cancel because of his defense, so I was really surprised when I knew upon arriving at the venue that my slot has been given to someone else. Anyway, I was somehow ready to leave, but Miss Mauwi was extremely nice, and she made me stay. Amazing host.

Cafe Vivere is located near Mount Apo (not the mountain, but the street) Rotunda, and it is such a shame that I have no idea which streets are located where (despite the fact that I have lived my entire life here in Davao City), so I took a taxi. I was surprised when I realized that Cafe Vivere was a relatively simple place to go to. I’ll try to upload a map as soon as my scanner starts working (everything at home is functioning so well, which explains the 45-minute wrestling match I had with the printer 5 o’clock this morning).

Anyway, back to Cafe Vivere. The place has this homey feeling which I love. Unfortunately, since there were six of us, we had to leave the cushioned seats alone. The place was quaint, plus the way Miss Mauwi was treating us made me wish I had means of eating there everyday.

As for lunch, we were first served with some garlic bread accompanied by two type of sauces: one was made of smoked tomatoes that had an amazing strong taste–think rich tomatoes mixed with a bit of really good wine; and the other was pesto, which allowed for a mental note to order some pasta served with pesto the next time I should come back, to form. After which, we were served with six dishes, which we shared. I got the vegetarian pasta. I am no vegetarian, but if being a vegetarian meant having to eat food as delicious as the one I had at Cafe Vivere, then count me in!

There were still a bunch of other food at Cafe Vivere, but sadly, the photos I took didn’t have a really good quality (it did not do the food justice). Yay! That means a reason to come back! Anyway, Miss Mauwi told us that she makes the food, herself, and has been starting to train one of her employees to cook. Amazing… She’s just so… good at what she does.*Sigh* Miss Mauwi and her cooking surely elevate the reputation of Davao Food.

For dessert, we had some chocolate cake and walnut ice cream cake (not the exact names, but these are pretty much their description). I especially love the walnut cake. It is one of the best treats I have ever had for my sweet tooth. Yum.

I am in deep trouble for submitting this entry rally late. But I’ll make up for it after Easter. I’ll bring Miss Anjie and Miss Lope (Pisay staff turned friends) to Cafe Vivere and make sure they eat their butts off. Haha! I wish their diets good luck!

^-^

 This is a conversation between Andie and Roa Ming some time today, around 12 noon.

—————

Andie: Can you please stop crying? You are starting to get on my nerves.

Roa:    I’ll stop once you teach me how to stop hurting.

A:        It’s been two days! You have to get over it! It’s not like you’re crying over a lost love or something.

R:        I know! How can you ever suppose that I don’t know?!? It’s the ugliest and most stupid video in the world, yes!!! I KNOW!!!

A:        If you do know, then why the tears?!? IT HAS BEEN TWO DAYS, GODAMMIT!

R:        Because the moment I remember that I spent a total of half a day on it, it becomes more than just a stupid and ugly video. And the moment I remember that it is more than just a stupid and ugly video to me, I start blaming myself for being stupid and ugly. I start wishing I was never born. I start wishing I read a new book all those hours I spent making it. I wish I were crying over a lost love instead of this. I wish I were dead.

A:         Why do you wish all these things? Especially the last one?

R:        Maybe because if someone up there listened and made it come true, I’d stop hurting.

A:        What makes you think you’d stop hurting that easily? It’s like saying I’d stop being angry the moment a person steps on my foot.

R:         Because the moment I die, I’m numb.

A:        Your body, maybe. But how would you feel if you saw people moving on without a trace of tears on their faces after you die?

R:        Hurt?

A:        Don’t answer me with a question! You know very well what I am talking about! The moment you die, there’s no chocolate mousse to soothe the pain after a really bad exam, and there’s no Andie to get you through things like these. Nothing at all to soothe your pains! The moment you die, and you end up hurting with what you see, you’ll end up hurting for all eternity! And you know very well that when you die, so would I. So keep strong, man! Live your life so that when you die, you’d see a lot of crying that would make you cry, too, but this time, in a happy and proud way. You hear me?

R:        …

A:        I guess that means a yes. Now, for some ice cream…

—————

The thing about Roa Ming is that she’s emo. And sometimes illogical. Andie, on the other hand, crazy as she might be, has this anger that fires her up without blinding her logic. People can barely tell who they are talking to. They think it’s mostly Andie, when in fact, Roa has been quite dominant lately. People know Andie by name, but not by trait. People know Roa by trait, not by name. People take Andie as the one having the traits of Roa, without knowing that Roa exists.

Roa would kill herself at the littlest bird poop dropping on her best shirt. It is Andie’s job to stop her.

Which one of me do you happen to know better?

I had the funniest experience yesterday. Funny, in the sense that it was quite stupid. But the emotions that provoked these happenings were far from being funny. In fact, they are quite depressing in nature.

On with the events. Awitenista 2008 happened last Saturday, and as a natural consequence of the event, everyone was quite busy to the point of derangement. I had an assignment for Awit, which was to make an AVP (Audio-Visual Presentation) for Awitenista Through the Years. Given this assignment, I stopped reading for 3 days (I have this goal of reading a total of at least 50 books for this year), just so I could finish it slowly but surely. A total of at least 12 hours were spent on that 1″27° presentation for these following reasons: first, is that I wanted to give my best, and although it wasn’t the best AVP on the show, it was, nonetheless, my best; and second, is that I am no Adobe Premiere genius. I have learned Adobe Premiere all on my own, and as much as I would like to have a formal education on the program, I haven’t had the opportunity. So there. As it turns out, my luck seems to favor me quite extra that day. Of the 3-hour show that was Awitenista, my barely half-and-one minute presentation didn’t make the cut. Yeah. Being the leaky faucet that I was, I cried myself silly for the better part of the weekend.

How so? Yesterday was the first decent conversation I had with my family after my dad left a day and a week ago. We were laughing ourselves silly. We do that all the time. But there was a little difference from the usual setting, which I’m not sure whether my family noticed or not. Every now and then, I would excuse myself, go up to my room, cry myself silly for a couple of minutes, then go back down and pretend like nothing happened. This went on for 5 hours. Yep! Stupid, I KNOW!

So I guess this is where I say that my decision to leave is final. This AVP assignment was supposed to make me change my mind, but as it turns out, my mind has geared towards leaving all the more. And I am not one to not take a hint. I GET THE HINT, OK?!?! SO WILL YOU JUST GET OFF MY BACK?!?!

Yeah… I’m kinda pissed of. *Steam coming out of my ears* The thing here is that as much as I love Kalasag, I cannot help but notice that I am beginning to harbor hard feelings towards (trying to be British here) it. I love Kalasag so much, and I can’t imagine myself continuing next year, and then graduating while harboring thoughts like “Kalasag talaga ang sumira ng buhay ko,” and “Kung ‘di ako sumali ng Kalasag, malamang masaya ako ngayon.” I wouldn’t like it to end that way. It’s good to end something that started good even at least semi-good (take that!). That way, nobody gets hurt, plus I get the chance to look back to good memories, not hard feelings.

I might be talking out of impulse here, but I’m a girl with the temperament of a raging and hungry bull in an arena with matadors. So sue me.

Yeah… I better get going now… I guess my eyes aren’t swollen anymore… Time for my Thermo exam (which I should have studied for last week, except that I spent all that time doing the AVP that was extremely useful)!

Let me begin with an extremely long prologue.

Saturday, February 9th, was the start of a series of stressful days. It’s only a week before Awitenista 2008, so go figure! Anyway, I had Systems Engineering to attend to, and, of course, the legendary Awitenista. For Systems, I barely managed to e-mail Anton the queuing data I took for the days I went to McDo alone on time. Then I was able to arrive in school just minutes shy of my professor leaving. Oh well. Me and my good luck. And don’t even get me started with Awit.

Upon reaching the office (Kalasag), Kuya Winston was sprawled on one of our couches like a dead man. If I did not know any better, I would have thought he was overdosed on drugs or something (imagine this: He was lying so still, and his eyes were half open, and I honestly believed it wasn’t going to be long before he would start having seizures). Again, IF I didn’t know any better. Just so everyone knows, Awitenista brings with it a series of symptoms all of the parties involved in making it a great show could never escape from: symptoms such as eye bags, asal adik (aka Am I Drugs? Syndrome), failed quizzes, and missed exams, among others. Anyway, there were so many things happening in between (between Kuya Winston’s death sleep and the next thing I can remember happening), but I can barely remember them (clearly, another symptom brought about by Awitenista). Before I knew it, we were on our way to SM to retrieve my new pairs of glasses (with a grade of -4.25, I cannot posible consider anybody wrong if they assumed that I was near blind), and consequently, on our way to Lispher Inn.

Lispher Inn is located at 13 Juna Avenue, Juna Subdivision, Matina, Davao City. Quite a convenient place to be located, seeing as how near it is from SM, NCCC Mall, St. Paul’s Cathedral, and a lot of other service establishments. It’s a really clean place. Semi-quaint in terms of its charm. I haven’t been able to try out the rooms yet, though. But that’s not what this entry is written for. It’s about Avenida.

Avenida, Lispher Inn’s restaurant located on the first floor of the establishment, agreed to host the 8th leg of the Davao Food Trip. The funny thing about this is that although I’ve lived the past 20 years of my life (which means all of it) here in Davao City, plus the fact that our house is a 5-minute ride from Lispher Inn, I have never stepped one foot on its premises, all the more eaten it’s food, until last Saturday.

Generally, the ambiance of the place is not unlike that of Lishper Inn’s (or what I’ve seen of it, which isn’t much, really). Chairs with delicate curves, and tables with much more delicate ones, are neatly arranged around the place which is quite spacious in comparison to other small restaurants. Avenida is actually a good enough place to have a nice and quiet dinner with your family.

Avenida served us three courses for this leg of the trip, namely: Beef Misono, Tuna Belly, and Sizzling Squid. Very simple names, actually. Which doesn’t surprise me the moment they touch my tongue: the simplicity in taste is quite a refreshing break from all the overwhelming flavors that exist out there.

First off: the Beef Misono.

I had no idea what Beef Misono was. But considering the fact that I didn’t know what watercress was (kangkong gud, bet you didn’t know!) until five minutes ago, I guess that isn’t too bad. The thing with their Beef Misono is that simple as it’s presentation might be, the taste is quite exquisite. The same goes for the sauce that comes with it. Perhaps that is the reason why they say it is Avenida’s specialty. Anyway, seeing as it’s my first, I guess the next Beef Misonos I get to taste will have quite a benchmark to overcome.

Next in line is their Tuna Belly.

The name is quite simple for this delectable dish, so in the spirit of IE4’s habit of renaming dishes (take this: Butter-Sugar Grilled Banana on skewers = Ginanggang, nyahahaha!!!), I decided to rename it Tuna Belly with Watercress (apply apply!!!). It was really good. I really like tuna belly and kangkong, I mean, watercress, and the lightness of these two combined was really good for my tongue and for my waist (as if I had one!).

And last but not the least: Sizzling Squid!!!

The best thing about the squid was the way it was cut. The trouble with squid is that it is so difficult to eat in public without any danger of rendering yourself damak in other’s eyes. The way the squid was cut made it easier to chew, and made it easier to combine flavors with the other ingredients of the dish. Like the other courses we have had for the night, it was equally simple without compromising the taste.

The thing about the food they serve is that Avenida seems to specialize in Ilonggo and International dishes. But if the rest of their menu would leave the same kind of impression on me, it would take just a few moments shy of a second for me to claim their type of cooking as Dabawenyo style. Haha! BB!*

The 8th leg of Davao Food Trip was actually good enough to make me relax despite the fact that Awitenista is literally licking at my heels. And considering the stress levels I am actually trying to crawl my way out of right now, that can mean anything but bad.

Again, Lispher Inn is located at 13 Juna Avenue, Juna Subdivision, Matina, Davao City. You could contact them through phone (082 299 2610) or by e-mail (info@lispher.ph).

*BB = Buot-buot (^-^)

I have just transferred my entries from my 3 year-old blog (Musings of a Deranged Mind) and my emo blog (The Chronicles of Roa Ming) to this blog. Yahoo!

I have two new blogs coming up, and being the xml-illiterate that I am, it’s taking a bit of time to finish churva-ing (layout, posts, and other blog needs) … Haha.

OK. I think I have to go to the Sexual Abuse Seminar which I am an hour late for. Ciao!

We all mature: one way or another. It is one of those simple facts of life we could never escape from. There will come a day wherein we realize that we have changed the way we view things, mostly for the better, without even knowing it (unless, of course, we were born to be naturally evil and inhumane, which has an almost nil chance of happening to any human being). Just a few hours ago, THE DAY made itself known to me.

Like Dorian Gray and Lord Henry Wotton, I used to value physical beauty above a lot of things, but quite unlike them, this is rather unconsciously observed. Do we not, as kids, often play with playmates that look as pleasant as their genes, or as their parents’ money, could bring about? I was guilty of this, but I fear not for my soul, knowing that a lot of people were, too. Anyway, there was this kid whom nobody really liked too well. I was not exactly the popular kid, but I found myself to be at higher ground than she was because at least I had some “friends.” She was the kind of kid others would run away from when she came to the playground, as if she had some sort of extremely deadly and highly contagious disease, or that she was the ”it” of one of the many-oh-so-many games we used played when we were kids. When I come to think of it, I could not come up with even a single fault she had that I once found so major. She was not ugly; although she was rather plain-looking. She was not shabby. She was not abusive, like I had been and sometimes am. I knew very little of her then. I still know little of her now, but somehow, I know better than I did then.

Her father was also a subject for scrutiny to my then young but extremely criticizing eyes. She looked so much like her father, and so everything I came to associate with her, which are now all forgotten, were things I associated with her father, too. Her father and mine had the same job, and they both (our dads) had this stressful look about them, but that which I did not mind seeing in my father, and yet found so annoying in others. He had dark lips which I was used to associating with mean people. And that was the end of it. I seemed to have hated them both, apparently for reasons I thought were good enough back then, and I determinedly decided to never have anything to do with their family. Period.

Or so I thought. I never encountered the girl again until university. I always saw her about campus with this big smile on her face. She looked so different from when we were kids in grade school, but maybe that was just a product of the many prejudices we have that shape our memories much more than we wish they would, or even much more than what is good. And given the label I have given her back then, I always ended up hesitating to greet her. I guess prejudices built from youth are difficult to remove from seemingly stable adult systems. I went about the hallways without even giving her a little glance whenever I passed her by. I know she knows that I can see her, and she, me, but people just act stupid when they don’t know how to act, and by that, I am no exception. I can’t exactly remember when, but she just sent me a friend request on Friendster, for which I did not have enough arrogance and insolence to reject. From then on, she would greet me first whenever our literal paths crossed (She greeted first, not I, usually so due to my convenient myopia, ADD, and, again, sheer hesitance).

Or paths crossed again today, but this time, I really had no inkling of her approaching presence. I was on my way home while she was on her way to somewhere in the school. All the time I was walking, I was really preoccupied with my heavy backpack and of all the things I have to do tonight (this long entry not included). As I was walking up some steps near Roxas Gate, there she was blocking my way, saying “Hi!” with this big smile on her face (which I found to be the extremely contagious disease that she had all along). I gave my startled, yet equally cheerful reply, and went on my way with a much lighter heart, surely, much lighter than my 10-kilogram backpack.

I rode a jeepney home. I am not sure where and when her father entered the jeepney (or where he left, for that matter), but it took a while before I noticed his presence. I am sure not to be mistaken with what I saw, though the two crossing of paths that have been extremely coincidental and at the same time related, and happening within a few minutes of each other at that, might leave one to think that I might have been on drugs, or that the heat of the 3 o’clock sun was producing mirages of the most realistic kind before me. He was there, but just like his daughter, he looked quite different from my remembrance of him. Yes, his hair was starting to thin quite badly in some places, but he could not look any more pleasant than he did today. His lips, once black (or that could have just been my imagination, too—you know how kids could be), have now turned into a pinkish-pale color, the kind I associate with kind men. I heard his father stopped at his work, and has now become a teacher. Maybe that’s the reason why he looks so fulfilled. I know his current job can’t possibly pay as well as his former (he used to be a sea farer), but what is money compared to one’s fulfillment? I can’t say for certain whether he knew me or not, but for the better part of my ride of home, I pretended to be asleep while listening to my iPod (as I usually do).

It is weird to have this kind of encounter (the most remarkable in my year so far), given that I just finished reading Dorian Gray yesterday. I now no longer have that “never have anything to do with their family” sort of attitude. In fact, I wish to be given the chance to be invited for dinner and know them better. It’s a n occassion I don’t count on happening, if happenstance or my will were to be depended upon. Happenstance often do not work for you if you pray with all your might that it might do so, and my will is greatly overshadowed by my hesitance to bring upon any significant progress. At any rate, I am just so happy that this day happened the way it did. Realizations are good for the soul, and anything good for the soul is something I need more than anything in the world right now.