STORIES, STORIES

A couple weeks ago, after the win of Pinoy boxer Manny Pacquiao, my feed reader was flooded with declarations of Pinoy pride. Suddenly, everyone and their mother was connected to Pacquiao because of shared nationality. Oh, yes, he's excellent at what he does because he is Pinoy, therefore, we are excellent in what we do because WE are Pinoy. Suddenly, we are not so ashamed of our nationality, and we announce it to the world (of Facebook, I guess). After this came the terrible killings in southern Philippines when about a hundred armed men attacked a group of people on their way to file a candidacy, and the media people covering the event. These same proud Pinoys decried and condemned the massacre, they expressed their anger towards what happened. It's a horrible, horrible thing. Be proud, Pinoy, for they share your nationality, too. They are terrible people capable of evil acts to destroy other human beings, therefore, so are you. Take responsibility for the things you are pro...

I subscribe to a few funny bloggers. One of my favorites, Dooce , featured the topic of bumper stickers on her blog's forum. What's the funniest bumper sticker you've read? Here are some that made me hose myself: (from her blog) "If you get any closer, you will need to wear a condom." "Jesus Loves You. Everyone else thinks you're an asshole." and "Dear God, please protect me from your followers." Us over here in Jeddah, we don't really get to see bumper stickers. The closest we ever get are those unfortunate but no less hilarious stickers you would find on guys' cars of their names (usually "Medo" or "3abood" or something), or of some cheesy line they got off god-knows-where ("Forever by you", said one, in huge print across the back of a brand new Lexus). Sometimes though, you would come across accidental profundity. Like this one. *** I also read Mo Twister's blog . Funny guy. Cocky, a bit of an as...

Under perfect circumstances, shopping is fun. You have the money for the things you need, and more money for the things you might want, it's sale season, you have a cool, un-complaining shopping companion who doesn't mind carrying your bags (thanks, bro), and Crabtree & Evelyn is still open in Jeddah. Seriously. I don't know what I'd do when that shop closes. And I have a funny feeling it's gonna close down. I WOULD DIE. Me and the only other person in Jeddah who buys things there every month (hi Nadeemers!). My new best friend is pictured here in her Saudi trappings: And then here, without: Coz, you know. Two nekked girls. Or angels. Terrible. Tsk, tsk. QUE HORROR!! This is the best thing I've bought all year. It's light, non-greasy, smells so good, and leaves your skin soft, supple and practically glowing. Come on, people! Go to the Crabtree & Evelyn shop and buy things there so they don't clooooose!! *sob* *** So, anyhoo, have I ever mentioned...

Not to (always) be confused with productivity. I'm referring, of course, to the sudden spike in my blog activity. Yay! I owe the previous significant lull in my public blogging to perhaps the worst few months of my early-late 20s, and in fact, it took me about a month to get over maybe the least enjoyable birthday I've every had ever since I started letting myself get carried away by all the spoiling that my friends did to me every year. It's funny the things I get myself into; no matter how much I try to convince myself that I am above all this elementary fussing, I couldn't help but feel badly neglected. After pulling myself together and having a nice self-talk of the Obama kind, I have finally pulled myself out of that rut. (OR HAVE I??) The truth is, I've been maintaining a very difficult relationship with the internet. The internet is not exactly the ideal partner. It sets very high standards that aren't very easy to meet, while at the very same time, it...

If you know me at work, you also know that I am that employee always scurrying for cover in order not to be caught by the superiors for the nth time wearing the strictly forbidden Jeans. We have a strict no-jeans policy at work and I have chosen to fight against it here in my widely-published and credible professional blog. ... Yeah. So we all know their reason for the no-jeans policy. Jeans are just way too casual to be worn in prestigious workplaces such as the one I work in, and it is imperative that we command respect in our fly suits and stiff upper lips. Cool, cool. However, considering the nature of our job (teaching), it's pretty difficult to keep up with this. No, I'm not saying that we should all be allowed to come to work in our deconstructed jeans and faded apple-bottoms and start krumping our students into perfect English. I agree that not even the most "inconsequential" students should be subjected to the sight of their teachers showing off the occasiona...

I'm sorry, did you say "Yummy"? Okay, this entry is not about the real Mrs Ronan Keating pictured here , because we all know she stole him away from me, that WRETCHED BITCH. Also, before I begin my inspirational story, I would just like to point out that there are moments like this blog entry that I am so thankful I didn't put up my picture and my (real and official) personal details on this blogsite. This is all incriminating evidence that would totally kick me out of that "cool" circle I imagine to be the president of. Anyhoots. I was 14 when I started my 2-year obsession with boyband Boyzone. By obsession here I don't mean the usual omg-boyzone-teenage-shrieking obsession. I mean like I was PSYCHO OBSESSED with them, I KNEW EVERYTHING about them, I stalked them, I knew their families' names and birthdays, what brand shampoos, toothpastes, the works. Kinda like how I am with my boyfriend. Cough. Now, if you were a slave to the boyband mainstream l...