Friday, June 29, 2007

ambat-- out!

in 10 minutes and i will be officially out of UNDP-PMO.

i've sent my goodbye and thank you emails. (snif. snif.)

things to do while i wait for my confirmation in the cabinet: (har period. har period.)

1. tomorrow: lunch with best friend, movie and shopping with the girls, interview with larry king.

2. sunday: fly to maui and hang out at the beach with bff paris.

3. next week: come up with the needed press releases, pay attention to my students

4. in the next few days: learn how to cook (don't hold your breath)

5. learn how to drive

6. learn adobe photoshop (so i can come up with quality photos for this blog site)

7. catch up on grey's anatomy, prison break, oprah and all the shows that i missed, okay, okay--plus pinoy box office.

8. sleep. sleep. and sleep some more.

9. flood.

flood this blogsite with everything in my head.

there, my 10 minutes is over.

okay... now let me say this:

ambat-- out...

Thursday, June 28, 2007

the world of pretend

with less than 48 hours before i say sayonara to UNDP's fostering democratic governance programme (and be officially added to this 3rd world archipelago's looooong list of unemployed butt wipes) i still have a coupla things left to do.

1. pack my CDs, files, books, lotions, and all the junk food that i have on my cubicle and drawers

2. compose an adieu email to the wicked and wonderful people that i've worked with in the past year (i am all giddy just thinking about this)

3. prepare for my interview with larry king, live on june 30. (6PM EST)

shameless plug

the people at CNN called me the other day and told me that good old larry chanced upon my blog and he wanted to talk to me about my sleeping disorder and how it leads to serious delusions of granduer.

off the top of my head, delusions of grandeur is not just a matter of not getting enough sleep. on my part, i think there's also not enough money, not enough time and my love is not around. (duncan sheik, 2003, yeah.)

so there, i have twenty million things to do in my soon to be ex-office today, but i got in rather late. really late. as in "my-boss-almost-kicked-my-ass" late.

and it's all because of a dude named karl.

no, not uncle karl.

i haven't spoken to him in like, eons because he has been very busy with his fall-winter 2007-2008 collection which will be available on july.


i'm talking about karl "econometrics-is-common-sense" jandoc.what does he have to do with my being late today? a lot.


at dinner yesterday, while we were being seated, karl asked the waiter to give us another chair.

"are we still expecting someone else to join us?" i asked.

"isn't anyone you know coming to join us?" karl asked back.

"ummm... none...." i answered.

"ha? wala? sigurado ka? bakit wala na naman, g.h.?" he asked.

(of course my record in the dating scene-- that is, the romantic fireworks die down even before you finish singing mary had a little lamb-- always, always prompted questions like this from my friends.)

i couldn't get pikon. the question was asked in a setting wherein karl was with his girlfriend giselle, sundy was with sarah, and i was with...umm... coach... my lovely coach bag.

so over puttanesca, pesto pasta and pizza, the five of us laughed and talked about relationships, a friend who recently got married, places we've been to and vacations that we plan to take. if my lovely bag could laugh, it would've joined us. but it just sat beside me, listening quietly.

when i got to my room, i just sat on my bed and thought of my friends' questions. i was trying to come up with answers, even if i was already too tired.

the digital display on my phone said it was 1:03 AM, before i slipped into lala land.

and then it happened.

i just came out of mango with my loot (at 50% off, the blouses were a steal) when someone called my name.

i didn't have to turn to see who it was. even in my dreams, he says my name right. (right emphasis, right pronunciation, right pause. [oh yes, my name maybe made of just two letters, but i have that thing about my name])

i did turn and he was standing in front of the lacoste shoe store. (i think we were in glorietta.)

the love of my life then started walking towards me and my shaking knees. (corny, but yeah, i think he is the love of my life. but then, i maybe wrong. but then again, whatever.)

i can only smile.

as the song goes: "the perfect words never crossed my mind cause there was nothing in there but you..."

then someone came into the picture. i have no idea who she is.

even in dreams, she was larger than life. and she had a lot of bling.

signal fire was changed to the theme of jaws.

i looked at my gummi bear with eyes saying: "please don't tell me that's your mom."

"g.h., meet my mom," he said.

the mom, who looked very chinese, she-must've-had-her-foot-binded-when-she-was-a-little-girl, smiled at me and asked if i spoke fookien.

my havaianas wanted to leave me behind and run as fast as they can.

"sorry, i'm not chinese." i answered.

but i loooove eng-bee-tin hopia, i wanted to say, but i just shut up.

the mom turned to my dude and started speaking in i don't know... mandarin, fookien, korean.... whatever, bottomline, i can't understand.

and they both started speaking to me in a language i do not know.

i walked away from them. without a word, without looking back. (oh this is so dejavu.)

then i woke up.

it was four o'clock in the freaking morning. i've only had three hours of sleep again. i was batting for at least five.

mother in law. geeez.... if there was anything that i dread most, other than telling my parents that they're right, i should've been a doctor instead of a dirtbag, it's meeting my boyfriend's mom--sisters--family for the first time.

on any given day, i'd rather detonate a bomb that is eight seconds away from exploding than meet my boyfriend's mom randomly for the first time.

you know this movie: Monster-in-Law, it really is an imitation of life. some moments of my life.

menopause vs. PMS

no, i do not hate the moms of my exes, in fact while i have forgotten their sons, i still remember them well.

it's just that, there's something about the mothers of the men that i dated that make me want to feign a heart attack when i'm with them, specially when they ask my all time dreaded question: "do you know how to cook?" which the sweating, fidgeting and stuttering me always answered with: "umm... no i don't. but i'm planning to learn how."

there was this line in the movie " the italian job" that got me laughing the other day. the line went: "i only know one thing in life. do not mess with mother nature, do not mess with your mother in law, do not mess with mother f**king ukranians."

he forgot to include the sister in law. oh gaad please, let's not even get into that.


so there, i was late for work this morning, because when i woke up at 4AM, i tried going back to sleep. it was already 7AM when i slipped back to lala land. by the time i woke up again at 8AM, my system was too upset, my head hurt like hell.

i woke up at 4AM because i had a monster in law moment in my dream. i had a monster in law moment in my dream because i was thinking of relationships before i slept. i was thinking of relationship before i slept because karl, not lagerfeld, asked me if there is anyone i know who was joining us for dinner.


they have a term for this, i know.

not being mature.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007


less than seventy two hours before i get out-a this office....

(i am so vulnerable right now that if you start singing "born free" in front of me, i will crumble all over the place and even if you call all the king's horses and all the king's men, you won't be able to put me back together again. )

there have been some good news out. or is that good "out" news.

1st out:

tiger is a proud poppa here with the week old sam alexis woods.

(i loooove this picture.)

2nd out:

dr. addison montgomery will be out of seattle grace hospital when grey's anatomy comes back next season.

but that doesn't mean we'll see less of her. she's going to have her own Private Practice on ABC by fall 2007.

3rd out

aside from addie, grey addicts will also not see preston burke next season.

guess our heart attacks would have to wait as SGH scouts for its new golden hands.

4th out:

who would miss the heiress' "fashion catwalk" to freedom and into the arms of her momma.

as a headline went: paris is back to being paris.


the iPhone

the iPhone is a revolutionary new mobile phone that allows you to make a call by simply tapping a name or number in your address book, a favorites list, or a call log. it automatically syncs all your contacts from a PC, Mac or internet service. And it lets you select and listen to voicemail messages in whatever order you want--just like email.

this baby will be out of the mac stores on june 29, 6pm

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

awful morning

three hours of sleep and i woke up even before the sun peeked through the horizon. justin timberlake was singing in my ear. said he's love stoned.

ouch, i slept with my earphones again.

i got up and danced. i love JT. now if only i'll wake up next to him one morning.

good morning, good morning, good morning.

good morning God. i tell the big dude whom i've been talking to a lot lately when i get bored talking to myself. i looked at myself in the mirror and asked God if i really need eight hours of sleep. because really, i think i already have a sleeping disorder.

well, i don't have just a sleeping disorder.

i am disorder.

june 26. four more days and i am out of this office. perhaps, my valedictory blog entry at the end of this month should have the title, "ambat out."

so far, i've turned down two job offers. i am waiting confirmation, but with all the CA controversy going around, looks like i have to wait. i will be appointed the new revenue chief you know.


a little bit more.

a little longer.

i decided to take a shower first before i eat my apple cinnamon oatmeal. (lovely breakfast really).

pussycat dolls was singing "buttons" when i got back to my room. for a second i wondered if my ipod had loud speaker.

moron, i realized, i changed my ringtone to :buttons." (i want the umba-rella-ella-ella ringtone but no one had that last weekend. )

cue was calling. i wanted to answer my cell really. but i have to put on my contacts first.

by the time i answered, it was already the 4th call.

"why are you not answering your phone?"


annoying. annoying. annoying.

gaad. if i were to list down the top five annoying questions that people subsitiute for "hello/hi" when they call me, it would be these:

1. Where are you? (unless you're my boss or are taking me shopping to zara or mango, please don't greet me with "where are you?" or worse, "wer u?" tsong, ur talking na 2 me, not SMSing, so pls, speak in normal, conversational english. and no, that's not cute.)

2. Why are you not answering your phone? - (last time i checked, i was the one who bought this pink sliver. last time i checked, i was the one who loaded moolah to get me communicating. last time i checked, i am not police, doctor, priest who could save you from whatever life threatening situation you are in. so please, if i don't get to answer you on the 1st call, i have a valid reason. it could be that i don't want to talk to you and that is very valid. )

3. Who are you with? - (i hate this question because most likely, my answer will be "no one." the question makes me so vulnerable. i'm with no one. bo-hoo...)

4. Are you wearing white (or whatever color/ clothes) and looking thru (clothes/ books/ shoes) at this _______ (name of shop) right now? -- this scares the hell out of me. seriously, please. if you think it's me, and you think we're okay, (you know, like we didn't fight) don't bother calling. just come up to me and say hi. (i carry a can of mace with me all the time though, so don't make me gulat.)

5. Can we talk? -- (unless you're my mom, dad or boss or someone i work with in the wicked and wonderful arena of 3rd world politics, this question always makes me want to run as fast as my havaianas can carry me. on the phone, the question always catches me off guard. the fact that i didn't reject your call means, yes, we can talk.)

annoyed, i answered, "the last time i checked, my last name ain't chinese. i'm not your girlfriend. what do you want?"

oh gaad....

if there was anyone among my friends who can change my ammo when in a fight, it's cue.

oh, that screaming match at the parking lot. oh, that confrontation at the lobby. oh, the banging of car doors. oh, the dagger looks. oh, the cold war.

i'm still trying to figure out why/ how we are able to bring out the worst in each other.

my only theory is, we are mirror images of each other. and we do not like what we see. in the same breath, because we are very much alike---temper, disposition, ambition---we are drawn to each other.

our longest cold war went on for a week. and after that, we were back to our famous walang kakwenta kwentang usapan which goes like this -- " know... i'm like...blah blah...."


by the time the conversation ended, i was already toxic.


toxic. yeah. so toxic that when i passed by this pulubi at philcoa on my way to work, she suddenly collapsed on the pavement, had seizure and started throwing up.

i wanted to stop, but i was in a hurry.

by the time i got to my soon to be ex-office, guilt was kicking in. the pulubi could have died--could be dead.

the call took 10 minutes of my precious morning time. i was already late for work.

i will be out of work so i really should've stopped and helped. but i was bitching. i was satan. i was toxic.

still toxic. oh i hope this is not separation anxiety.

so it could all just be cue's fault.

Saturday, June 23, 2007


somebody. stop. me.

i promised i won't post-- as in not a single freaking blog entry-- unless i finish everything that my lazy ass has to finish.

long story short, i have been stalling so many tasks-- that if i continue stalling, i'll be in worse situation than the meat sold in dubious wet markets. i will be more than double dead.

as of last count, i have four people after my neck. i will be quadruple dead if they all lose patience with my procrastinating, lazy ass and decide to do an oren-ishii on me. (you see tj, even if you want to kill me, you have to fall in line.)

anyway, so where was i? ah yeah, it's 530 pm and i haven't taken bath and i haven't eaten lunch. i just finished and emailed one task. so, while waiting for the bloody corrections and comments, let me just post this.

(please, my three brain cells are now experiencing seizure from all the thinking. they need a break.)

i am suppose to have good news. 1st of course is that, if what i just submitted 5 minute ago will be acce
ptable, then there will only be three people left to slice my head off my neck with a butter knife.

second--- a sort of miracle happened somewhere. remember my OMG entry wherein i wished for a coach bag, well...fairy god mother must've been getting sick of my whining and sent me this:

The Anya Hindmarch bag.

Are you kidding me? As it is, the fab members of alta sosyeded are raving/ killing each other/ falling in line for six hours to get this piece of luggage? diaper bag? monstrosity?

seriously. ewww....

i would've gotten into a handbag slugging session with fairy godmother if she got me this.

my mom's sister, the lovely, the thoughtful, the generous julieta sanidad (God bless her and increase her tribe) sent me this last thursday from the States:

the coach chelsea bag in black and silver
the flossy! the flossy!

my smile says it all. it's not from greenhills. nor is it from shenzen.

i love it. i love it. i love it.

shocker, if i knew that my whining will get me something. i should've wished for the 2007 CRV .


Okay, back to work.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

he's just not that into me

As of 6PM yesterday, my students’ queries, my dirty clothes, the press release that I have yet to write, the concept paper that I have yet to start were all screaming for my attention.

All it took was one text. One word and I jumped up and down and forgot about everything.
He texted: “Dinner?”

I replied, non-chalantly, also with one word: "├┐esyesyesyesyesyes!!!!!!!"

Amazing. One word and I’m out of my crash moment.

Oh joy, oh rapture! Here comes search and rescue. Help! Help! I’m over here!

Vivaldi’s “Ode to Joy” started playing in my head.

Bright and shiny.


Okay, okay. So I lied. Contrary to my claim in my crap gets crappier entry that there is none among my guy friends/ acquaintance that I can consider as potential significant other—well, there is actually one.

Yeah, just one. And he is not so tall, but very funny and intelligent, not so moneyed but can afford to treat me at my favorite Greek resto, doesn’t have McDreamy eyes, but is chinito and he doesn’t have a friendster account, and with his kind of job, he doesn't have time to read blogs. Perfect.

So let me write about him. Us? Him? He and I? Whatevs.


Barely 15 seconds after the waiters said “Opa!” and placed the saganaki between us, A suddenly asked: “Are you ready to get married?”

In my mind, I went: Ohmygad, ohmygad, ohmygad!!!!

I was stunned.

For how long, I don’t know. My thoughts went as wild as: “Oh my gad! He is not proposing! Not this way! I am not in a dress. And I just sort of said adieu to M a couple of weeks ago and I don’t want people calling me a player. And what would I tell our grand kids? That their lolo had me at saganaki? No way.”

I hope now that I didn’t, even for just one second become teary-eyed.

Now that I think about it, when a crush or someone that you see with not-so platonic eyes, ask you about relationship, love and all that bull, you start wishing that he’s asking because he is finally wondering how you would feel like in his arms. Of course, you also make a mental note to thank that woman in front of the Quiapo church who has been supplying your gayuma potions in the past five years. (It finally worked!)

Had it been another guy friend, I would’ve answered, “why, are you contributing to my husband fund?”

A what? Yeah, Husband Fund. See, my siblings, who are increasingly becoming worried that I might grow old alone and just die, given my batting average in the relationship game, are setting aside part of their income for my Husband Fund. The money will be used to pay the scientists who would create the husband in their laboratories (aw gawd, if we were in the States, we would be democrats), or will buy David Beckham and pay for his divorce from Victoria (told you we are democrats). I looooove my family.

Had it been a DOM or someone I despise, I would answer, “Umm… I have a suspicious rash and I am about to enter convent.”

I finally answer: “Umm… why do you ask? May ipapa date ka sa akin?”

He digged into the saganaki and said: “Wala. I just thought I saw you at the bridal fair in megamall.”

As the waiter brought in the kebab, my heart started beating faster again. “What were you doing in the bridal fair?” I said it out loud.

“Family dinner. But we dropped by because Ate’s getting married January next year.”

[Will you marry me? ] I wanted to ask that but I just bit into my chicken gyros.

“Kamusta kayo ni M?”

Eeeek. “We’re okay.” (Seriously, we are okay.)

“Okay as in, kayo na?”

“We're taking it easy, chilling at the mo.”

“Chill? Cool off? Kayong dalawa talaga, you’re always trying to break up with each other, hindi naman kayo.”

[Pag naging tayo, I will not break up with you] “Weird, right?”

“Baka kulang lang kayo sa… you know… You two should be kissing more kasi. Haha.”

[We should kiss later. ] “Gago.”

“Basta don’t waste your time. Huwag ka rin magmadali. I mean, you know….”

[Why don’t you just say you love me and get it over with? Torpe.Torpetorpetorpetorpe.] “Yeah…”


It’s 2:00 AM and I am writing this entry on my bed instead of catching some zzz’s. .

As we were ending dinner, my romance bubble popped. I finally accepted that on A’s part, there just isn’t any romantic spark. If he sees me as more than a friend, he would’ve asked me to dinner three nights in advance, he would have shaved, and he wouldn’t even mention that he thinks I gained 10 pounds from the last time we were out. (Grrr… I wanted to slap him.) So my appetite kicked in, and I didn’t care less if he found me matakaw because we are just friends, and friends love each other through gluttonia and anorexia.


Of course, I derived my assumptions and conclusions from this guy named Greg Behrendt.

Greg dude here, in his book he's just not that into you says: CUT THE CHASE. Unless your guy will do these things, he's just not into you. (OUCH!) [from interview with METRO Nov 2005]

if he likes you, he will do the asking. And if he wants to find you, he will. "An actor we work with met a girl while he was making a public appearance on an aircraft carrier. He lost track of her in about 10 minutes. And yet, because he was so smitten, he somehow managed to track her down in the army and they are now married."

if he's into you, he won't look at anyone else. (AMEN!AMEN! AMEN!) There is no excuse for cheating. "Some cheaters might give you an excuse, some might have none at all, some might even blame you. No one can tell you what to do in this very complicated and very painful situation. But the bottom line is, is this what you had hoped for in a relationship?

if you don't want him to drink, he'll sober up. It doesn't count unless he says it when he's sober. An "I Love You" or any resemblance thereof while under the influence of anything stronger than grape juice won't hold up in court or life."

if he's into you, he'll propose. Don't spend your time on and give your heart to any guy who makes you wonder about anything related to his feelings. "There will never be a good time, financially to get married... But somehow, people manage. If your man is using money as an excuse to not marry, it's your relationship that's insecure, not his bank account."

if he's breaking up with you, it's because he doesn't want you. You can't talk your way out of a break-up. "A guy says he doesn't want to be with you. Sometimes, that guy realizes he's made the biggest mistake of his life. And then sometimes, he doesn't. Either way, your only job is to move on with your life--and fast."


There. Short. Simple. Liberating.

Greg should get a Nobel Peace Prize for being the messiah of women whose minds men continue to mess with.


Parting shot:

That Husband Fund is real. My siblings have set up a 24/7 telethon. For contributions, you may call 1-800-HAVE-MERCY (4283-63729) toll free.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

dark and twisty

adoration i can handle, but villification, oh gad.

as in OH GAAD.

for someone who thrives in the background and whose all time weapons of choice are silence and subtlety, i wonder how i manage to get on people's nerves.

when UNDP and NEDA decided to switch its focus to mainstreaming human rights, from merely implementing political, justice and public administration reforms to foster democratic governance in the country, my environment has been hostile.

i know that look. i can almost hear what they're thinking in crystal clear quality.

whether i'm walking in the lobby or buying lunch at their pathetic caf, i feel them looking at me and i know what they see. this:

they see me rolling... they hating....

yes, 10 days before i become jobless, my class is still in chaos, my brain refuses to function, i have writers' block, my laundry is all piled up, my hormones have turned into venom, the fugliest people are back in school and there are hobbits and vermins who call us incompetent, traitors and ingrates.

oprah and the luxury store, hermes have a term for this:


i was hoping to spend time on the proverbial couch today. but makati seems too far when you've hit rock bottom, head on.

i woke up at 3:30 AM, and since i can't go back to sleep, i went thru my books hoping to find the holy grail that would bring me back to being bright and shiny.

i found Paulo Coehlo's Warrior of Light.

the book is decribed as short notes on accepting failure, embracing life and rising to your destiny.

so i nuninuninu-ed through the first couple of pages and came to page 43 which contains the following text:

The warrior of the Light always keeps his heart free of any feelings of hatred.

When he goes into battle, he remembers what Christ said: “love your enemies.” And he obeys.

But he knows that the act of forgiveness does not mean that he must accept everything; a warrior cannot bow his head for if he did, he would lose sight of the horizon of his dreams.

He accepts that his opponents are there to test his valor, his persistence, and his ability to make decisions. They force him to fight for his dreams.

It is the experience of battle that strengthens the warrior of light.

ho-hum.... yeah, yeah... love your enemies. whatevs.

(for a second i thought i would drop straight to hell.)

love. i remember the first line of the movie Fight Club:

That old saying , how you always kill the thing you LOVE, well it works both ways.

so i got my fight club book and i realized, that at this crash moment of my life, my life has imitated art.

my crash moment.

welcome to fight club.

I am Joe’s Blood Boiling Rage.

I haven’t slept in three days, unless I am sleeping now.

(the preceding lines is the venom, that's already up to my fat neck, put into words)

This buttoned down schizophrenic could probably go over the edge at any moment in the working day and stalk from office to office with an Armalite AR-180 carbine gas-operated automatic.

This guy is probably at home every night with a little rattail file, filing a cross into the tip of everyone of his rounds. This way, when he shows up to work one morning and pumps a round into [his] the nagging, ineffectual, petty, whining, butt-sucking, candy ass [boss] people that one round will split along the field grooves and spread open they way a dumdum bullet flowers inside you to blow a bushel load of your stinking guts out through your spine.

It's scary. This is probably someone he's known for years. Probably this guy knows all about them [him], where they [he] live[s], and where their spouses [wife] work[s] and their [his] kids go to school.


i crashed.

and i become a misanthrope. i become pol pot. i become idi amin.

but at least i don't go around like the hobbits and the vermins, smiling and asking how they are doing, when truth is, i want them to just go to hell.


first rule of fight club is, you do not talk about fight club.

i'll shut my trap now and wait for the search and rescue.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007


just as my frenemies have hoped.

i'll suck at my teaching stint.

got a sort of reminder from the dean yesterday to know the academic calendar and be consistent with the course guide that i made.

long story short, my class is in chaos because the faculty-in-charge seems to be not in charge at the moment.

gaaad... i hate myself today.

i'm lousy and my brain is just not working.

i'm so stupid today that if you would ask me who should be the democrats' bet in 2008 among hillary, obama and john edwards, i'd say, america should go for ana wintour.

Devil wears a prada incarnate--ana wintour.

her campaign slogan, cliche as it may be would go:
saving the US of A one fashion make over at a time

aw gawd, that was an ugly analogy. let me try it again.

i'm so stupid today that if you bring me to the louis vuitton boutique in greenbelt, i'd be looking for something like this:

The Coach signature scarf print large tote

so if anyone knows a way to jumpstart my three brain cells, or should anyone have anymore brain cells to spare, or can devise a way to bring sanity back into my system, please let me know.

if you can't help me with the brain thing, perhaps giving me the Coach bag will do.

Monday, June 18, 2007

crap gets crappier

Being the second rate, trying hard, copy cat that I am, let me, once again, borrow a line of Carrie Bradshaw.

Think about it. If you are single, after graduation there isn't one occasion where people celebrate you ... Hallmark doesn't make a "congratulations, you didn't marry the wrong guy" card. And where's the flatware for going on vacation alone?


When you're 27 and still single (single again and again and again and again), well meaning friends and scheming frenemies place a ticking bomb above your head, which they have set to go off when you hit the big 3-0.


So M and I, over a game of air hockey at timezone, finally decided to just chill at the moment and wait for the universe to unfold and reveal what we had was all about.

Hmmm....Another one bites the dust.


Anyway, Shella, on our drive back to Manila yesterday, was planning to set me up with a friend of her boyfriend.

I know, I know. It's another "Aw gawd... she's so freaking pathetic-- her friends have to set her up with someone so she can have a date" moment.

Um... yeah. The past few months, I am pathetic, I am lazy and at the moment I'm not as interested in dating whoever (unless he gives me the all new CRV) because I am already spreading myself a bit too thinly. I mean, you know, I have my job hunting, my advocacies, my teaching stint, my growing obsession for the 2008 US presidential elections, my family and my friends to juggle.

Sensing my disinterest, Shella asked: "what are you looking for ba in a guy?" And then I remember this survey what makes a perfect boyfriend that found its way to my yahoo. I'm posting it below:


What's the most important quality in a boyfriend?
Sense of Humor
Being great in bed
Financial and career success

When it comes to expressing his feelings, you'd ideally want a guy to be the type who…

If he’s not much of a talker, what’s the best way for him to communicate his feelings?
Buy me a thoughtful gift that shows how well he knows me.
Give me a sweet kiss or hug out of the blue.
Just say, “I love you” sometimes.
Compliment me on a unique quality

If you’ve had a bad day, the best thing he could do for you would be…
Make dinner
Sit and listen to you vent
Stay out of your way
Plan something fun to do

Do you want him to be affectionate in public?
Nah, that’s kind of annoying.
I’d like him to be able to hold my hand or give me a quick kiss, but I don’t need more attention than that.
If the mood strikes, I want him to grab me and really kiss me.

When it comes to compliments, you most want to hear:
How hot you are
How cool you are
How smart you are
Why he loves you
What makes you unique
Why you’re the best girlfriend he’s ever had

If he were to plan a weekend away, you’d want him to arrange for you to...
Stay at a cute hotel or inn nearby
Go to a place where a bikini is mandatory
Go on a road trip or adventure
Go camping or do something outdoorsy

How take charge do you want him to be?
I like feeling girlie, so I want him to take charge most of the time.
I want him to be a gentleman, but I still like having a say on things.
I’m so independent, I prefer to take care of everything myself.
It pisses me off when guys try to tell me what to do.

What’s the best way for a guy to calm you down during a relationship dispute?
He should just give in completely.
He should be willing to talk it out and make some effort to compromise.
If he makes me laugh, it’ll diffuse the situation and help me see his side.
He should give me the time and space to calm down

When he plans a date night, he should most often go for...
Romance: A nice dinner at an elegant restaurant works
Easy: A relaxed meal at a neighborhood bistro, maybe a movie.
Adventure: You prefer adrenaline-pumping activities
Fun: You're a big kid at heart so you'd rather play arcade games or karaoke.

When it comes to planning your social schedule, you’d rather...
He organize the majority of the plans
Share in the responsibilities.
Take control of the social planning yourself.

How ambitious do you want him to be?
I want a real go-getter who works his butt off, even if it means putting in long hours.
I’d like for him to be doing reasonably well in his field, but I’d rather he was home at night.
I don’t care what he does as long as he treats me well.

If you make more money than him, how do you want expenses handled?
He should just let me pay more for certain things and make it up to me in other ways
I think we should split costs on stuff without making a big deal about it.
I still think he should be the one wining and dining me.

How much effort should a guy put into looking good for you?
A quick shower and shave is all he needs.
Every guy should use hair product and have some sort of skin regime.
I think a guy should spend almost as much time primping as women do.

If a guy in a bar said something rude to you, you’d want your guy to...
Beat the crap out of him
Defend your honor with words
Pull you away from the situation
Play it strong and silent and just create a barrier between you and the guy

Would any of the following personality traits be a deal-breaker for you when considering a relationship with a man? Please answer yes or no for each.

He’s always late
He talks to too many exes
He’s too flirty
He lacks ambition
He’s socially shy
He’s not friendly to my friends
He’s moody or has a short temper
He never shows his feelings
He has bad manners
He never follows through on anything
He has no hobbies, passions or interests
His apartment is dirty and disgusting
He’s a workaholic
He’s lazy
He parties too much
He doesn’t get along with my family

The guy who can make you laugh…
Has dry, sarcastic wit.
Is a goofy guy.
Delivers smart, socially relevant humor.
Has self-deprecating humor.

At a party, your ideal guy would be...
Standing in the center of a big crowd, making everyone laugh
Having an intense one-on-one conversation
Chatting with a few people, without trying to dominate the discussion
Hanging out in the corner, just taking in the scene

According to you, what is the best way for a guy to deal with his ex calling?
He should ignore her and never return the call.
He can return the call, but he should definitely mention me and ask her not to contact him again.
He can do whatever he wants, as long as he’s honest with me.

Which of the following do you consider cheating? Please choose one.
Almost anything--even just flirting
Flirting is fine, but he shouldn’t get any phone numbers
He can do whatever he wants, so long as there's no physical contact
Kissing is fine, but anything more than that, no way!
He can do anything physically, so long as it's only that. The emotional bond is what matters.

Guess what my answers were?

Um, no, I won't tell you.

Another friend, who volunteered to be my relationship coach (of course at this point he is irrelevant as the only relationships that I have, which resembled a romantic one, is that with my hair stylist to whom I have to be honest [about what I really want to happen to my hair], loyal [jumping from one stylist to another is not healthy] and unselfish [never be cheap in giving tips]. This friend told me to come up with a list of men whom I know, that possess the qualities of a potential significant other.

I did a quick mental survey of my guy friends/ acquaintance-- and umm... NOTE: guy friends, Please don't crucify me-- seeing them with platonic friendly eyes, I can't imagine putting them on my list moreso, asking God to reveal who among them is best for me.

Besides, in my grand scheme of things, I won't have to exert the slightest effort such as coming up with a freaking list-- prince charming will just fall on my lap and he will be tall, intelligent, faithful, funny, moneyed, with beautiful eyes and a nice smile.

(And my mom and my dad who are looking forward to improving our gene pool and seeing me settle down both said a resounding "AMEN, AMEN, AMEN." )

So for Shella, whose query "what are you looking for ba in a guy?" I answered with "i-e-email ko sa'yo" and to Dino, who wanted me to come up with a list, here's a sort of answer.

A list/pictionary of the men I love:


Eventologist, newspaper section editor, host, model
Partymeister. Hypercelebirty with seven digit endorsement deals.

Love the eyes, love the accent, love PDI's SUPER section.

is so going to sue my ass in every legal court in the 3rd world if he finds out that I posted this photo on my blog.

BB is Le Fabuleux Superstar.

Love his style, love his ideas, love his creativity.

Now if only all straight men could be as funny and as interesting and could readily identify a fake gucci bag.


Enough said.


Photo journalist.

Must. See. His. Book. Pictures of People.

Nephew of Josie Natori. (Yup, as in the Natori)

(I wonder if Tom Ford has a nephew as hot as this)


Fine, he doesn't look as good in person as he is in this picture. But you really have to give it to this guy who is currently the brightest young star of the opposition.

Brain. I'd kill for his brain.

(All Photos except that of BB are from the Oct'04 Manual Magazine)


Best adjective to describe this entry:

1. Shallow

2. Pathetic.

3. Crap

4. All of the above