Let me do this:
P 46. 04—exchange rate of peso to $US 1 as of May 23
P 1.26 Trillion--- ceiling of expenditure for 2008
P 1.26 Trillion --- projected revenues for 2008
P 0 ---- target deficit by 2008
P 33 million --- amount spent weekly by Pichay for his TV ads
P 55 --- price of sausage mc muffin breakfast at McDonald’s
P 70 --- the amount I pay for my pedicure at the UP Shopping Center
500 --- number of songs a two 2GB ipod nano can contain
10 --- number of days it took before I got to watch Annabelle Rama’s interview on Showbiz Central
While I was slipping into nervous breakdown from analyzing the macroeconomic assumptions of the Development Budget Coordinating Council for 2008 (remember, I only have three brain cells), the rest of the 84 million Filipinos are buzzing with talks of the Ruffa-Ylmaz separation. The remaining one million pinoys are glued to either NBA, or the election tally, or are anticipating the announcement of Ogie Alcasid in June.
I bumped into Richard Gutierrez at my new playground on election day. I could’ve asked him how his sister was. But I tried putting myself into his shoes. And I thought, if I were in his shoes and a stranger suddenly asked if my sister and her husband have bid each other adieu, I would’ve called the guards and ordered them to drag the stranger away from me.
That would’ve been the ideal end of my two recent encounters with some people.
Encounter #1: at the buffet table during lunch at a conference
Stranger: Hi, you are G.H. right?
G.H. the charming politican: Yeah. (Smile) Have we met before?
Stranger: I know you because you used to be _______’s girlfriend di ba?
G.H. the losing candidate: (Pinaka plastic na smile) Umm.. if you excuse me, you just triggered my vomit reflex (throws up).
Encounter #2: at the mall
Acquaintance: G.H. hello! Haven’t seen you in while. Kasama mo ba si ________ ?
G.H. the cornered prey: Hi. Umm.. Hindi ko siya kasama.
Acquaintance: Kamusta na siya? When are you two getting married?
G.H. the half dead prey: Ummm.. I don’t know…. I’m no longer with him eh….
Acquaintance: Ah really? What happened? Kelan pa?
G.H. the prey fighting till her last breath: Matagal na…
Acquaintance: Naku, I’m sure you'll get back together. You two are just meant for each other, I know it.
G.H. the vindicated prey: (messes acquaintance’s pink havaianas with burgundy colored vomit )
Jeeeez. When people ask me how I manage my weight, I tell them--- I have bulimia. My bulimia is the kind that is triggered by persons who can’t get over their fascination for some mistake that I’ve made in the past and have made it their personal mission to keep reminding me about it. Puh-leeez! Even the best fall down sometimes, you know.
Anyway, back to Ruffa. I wasn’t really interested in her recent issue. That is until Maui re-enacted Annabelle Rama’s interview while we were having dinner last Saturday. After watching the interview on youtube, I realized, I have one thing in common with Ruffa: we both have super hero moms.
P 46. 04—exchange rate of peso to $US 1 as of May 23
P 1.26 Trillion--- ceiling of expenditure for 2008
P 1.26 Trillion --- projected revenues for 2008
P 0 ---- target deficit by 2008
P 33 million --- amount spent weekly by Pichay for his TV ads
P 55 --- price of sausage mc muffin breakfast at McDonald’s
P 70 --- the amount I pay for my pedicure at the UP Shopping Center
500 --- number of songs a two 2GB ipod nano can contain
10 --- number of days it took before I got to watch Annabelle Rama’s interview on Showbiz Central
While I was slipping into nervous breakdown from analyzing the macroeconomic assumptions of the Development Budget Coordinating Council for 2008 (remember, I only have three brain cells), the rest of the 84 million Filipinos are buzzing with talks of the Ruffa-Ylmaz separation. The remaining one million pinoys are glued to either NBA, or the election tally, or are anticipating the announcement of Ogie Alcasid in June.
I bumped into Richard Gutierrez at my new playground on election day. I could’ve asked him how his sister was. But I tried putting myself into his shoes. And I thought, if I were in his shoes and a stranger suddenly asked if my sister and her husband have bid each other adieu, I would’ve called the guards and ordered them to drag the stranger away from me.
That would’ve been the ideal end of my two recent encounters with some people.
Encounter #1: at the buffet table during lunch at a conference
Stranger: Hi, you are G.H. right?
G.H. the charming politican: Yeah. (Smile) Have we met before?
Stranger: I know you because you used to be _______’s girlfriend di ba?
G.H. the losing candidate: (Pinaka plastic na smile) Umm.. if you excuse me, you just triggered my vomit reflex (throws up).
Encounter #2: at the mall
Acquaintance: G.H. hello! Haven’t seen you in while. Kasama mo ba si ________ ?
G.H. the cornered prey: Hi. Umm.. Hindi ko siya kasama.
Acquaintance: Kamusta na siya? When are you two getting married?
G.H. the half dead prey: Ummm.. I don’t know…. I’m no longer with him eh….
Acquaintance: Ah really? What happened? Kelan pa?
G.H. the prey fighting till her last breath: Matagal na…
Acquaintance: Naku, I’m sure you'll get back together. You two are just meant for each other, I know it.
G.H. the vindicated prey: (messes acquaintance’s pink havaianas with burgundy colored vomit )
Jeeeez. When people ask me how I manage my weight, I tell them--- I have bulimia. My bulimia is the kind that is triggered by persons who can’t get over their fascination for some mistake that I’ve made in the past and have made it their personal mission to keep reminding me about it. Puh-leeez! Even the best fall down sometimes, you know.
Anyway, back to Ruffa. I wasn’t really interested in her recent issue. That is until Maui re-enacted Annabelle Rama’s interview while we were having dinner last Saturday. After watching the interview on youtube, I realized, I have one thing in common with Ruffa: we both have super hero moms.
For those who missed it, here it is.
Ooops... I'm having trouble embedding youtube clips on my blogger. So here are some pictures na lang (yeah, yeah, I'm very barok):
It must be difficult. Being a celebrity. I mean, strangers would be prying into your personal life, poking and prodding you to admit on national TV that your husband beats you up.
And the most you can do is cry and look stunning while at it.
And the most you can do is cry and look stunning while at it.
No vomiting allowed.
Parting shot:
I was laughing out loud when I found this conversation from the script of SATC. It was the exact same conversation I had with a friend last week.
Samantha: Well, let's just say it: you won.
Carrie: Was there a contest?
Samantha: Oh please! There's always a contest with an ex. It's called "who will die miserable."
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