Stuff I've Learned

Lest you think I have resting on my laurels for the last six months, I thought I'd provide a list of things I've learned since my last blog post to prove that this time off was not for....naught.  So, without further ado, stuff I've learned since disappearing from the blogger world (most of which, has absolutely nothing to do with blogging): 

1. Never over trust a fart. 

     a. Sub rule: You should work really hard to only fart once in yoga class. 

 --If the sub rule seems unnecessary, you have clearly not been in a recent yoga class at the studio I have been going to.  I am a firm believer that ...er...mistakes happen and once in a while, especially in those standing separate leg stretches, you just feel relaxed.  It's inevitable that things will slip out.  What I don't understand is the multi-farter.  Were it me, I'd tamp that shit down after the first whoof.  If they are loud, multiple and Buddha forbid, stinky -- I think perhaps it's time to call it quits.

2. A motorized bicycle is a perfectly suitable method to transport balloons.  It does not in any way impede the traffic flow or cause hazards to you or other drivers.  Nope - does not....will not. 


 3. If you own a bus in Manila, you are required to pee on the front tire.  In the middle of the day.  In traffic. 

     a. Sub rule:  You may also be required to urinate in the car wash stall of a private condo garage because, duh, the actuall WC you could use is at least three floors away and the chances of you making it there before you piddle yourself....well...by all means, don't risk it.  Pee three feet away from my parking spot.  Why not?!
     --I will never understand the lack of pee pee control here.  I can't help but think of the countless times my parents uttered the words, "You should have gone before we left."  Does that never occur to these folks?  I mean, I get it...traffic here can be horrendous and you drive for a living but surely SURELY there's some way to plan effectively enough where you are not forced to pee in full view of motorists at the corner of Makati Ave and Ayala. 

4. There is absolutely no way to explain to someone who doesn't live in Manila why it is so frustrating.  

     --We have tried to narrow the explanation down in to one or two little pithy phrases, "It's the land of not quite right," or "It's the little city that could...but didn't".  I have learned that we are in a privileged and exclusive club.  You're probably not in the club and that's ok -- keep trying...you never know.  There is nothing quite so fulfilling as complaining about Manila with someone else who lives in Manila. To become a member of this club, several things must occur in your life.  You must spend 3+ consecutive days in traffic for no less than two hours each way.  You must have gotten in at least two wrecks where the vehicles involved were not going over 3 miles per hour.  The thought must have occurred to you that, with half a tank of gas and 3 miles to travel, you probably should have gotten gas.  Why?  (see traffic requirement above)  And that's just life in your car.  There are approximately 725 additional pre-requisites for membership.  We are really really selective. 
  
5.  If you aren't an anti-social person, you might become one in Manila.  

     --I gotta say, if you don't live in my building, it's gonna be real real hard for us to be friends because it'll be a trash free day in Burgos before I leave the comfort of my apartment to get back out on the streets just to have drinks with a friend or see a movie.  If you have been lucky enough to score my time outside of the general Salcedo area, you...my dear....have broken through.  Congratulations!  And if you're the one who has left your neighborhood to come visit me, well...I am truly honored. 

6.  One working elevator in a building with 36 floors and 4 condos on each floor is probably not going to go well.  

     --Don't even get me started on what would happen if there were a true emergency on the 32nd floor.

7.  Paris fixes everything. 

     --Frustrated by the complete lack of selection and general frustration brought on by shopping in Manila?  Just apply one super sweet husband and the city of lights and, magically, you're cured.  Christmas in Paris 2014 -- best.idea.ever. 
 





8.  The beach (and other Philippines getaways) acts as the same sort of mental health medicine. 

     --It is true what they say, you will like the Philippines much more if you don't allow Manila to be your only window to its soul.  We are making dedicated efforts to get out of town these days.  Failing that, I also enjoy staycations in my apartment -- putzing around in my art room, playing with Cassie, going to Yoga etc.  The point is, wherever you are, you must pretend as if you're NOT in Manila.  And...go...

9.  Yoga is my new best friend.  Shout out to Yoga+ Makati!!  

     --They are not preachy or bitchy or snobby.  Their classes range from relaxing to really challenging and they are less than a block from my front door.  Sold!  'Me time' is almost never better spent than at this Yoga studio.  
Yoga+ Philippines

10.  Salcedo Saturday Market is STILL the best thing about living here. 

     --Returning from Paris meant I was back in the mood to cook which could have also meant that I was mere seconds away from a deep depression.  The grocery shopping has gotten better here but you still can't find everything you need.  This weekend though, I was able to find fresh sage, rosemary, ground cloves, and....the creme de la creme???  Fresh Fennel!  Last night I made Italian Wedding Soup.  Tonight, sweet potato and cauliflower fritters.  Thank you Salcedo Saturday Market...thank you!

Recipe from Better Homes and Gardens; Photo credit from BHG.com

 
11. BONUS:  Life is an adventure and no matter what happens, you just gotta keep living it.  Be grateful for what you have.  Rant about the things that bother you to the people who will forgive your ranting.  Find joy in the little things.  Adapt.  Overcome.  Thank the stardust super being, yourself, or whatever you believe in that you are still on this side of the top soil.  It's all one big circus and I don't know about you but I'm happy to be one of its acrobats/clowns/ring leaders/monkeys.  :) 

"Don't...call me babe!" Pamela Anderson - the feminist activist???

I have recently started listening to one of the greatest podcasts ever --How did this get made --which is essentially a review/summary of HORRIBLE movies discussed on air between 3 cohosts (who are also comedians) and usually at least one guest.  Some of my favorite reviews include Sleepaway Camp (which you can watch in its entirety on YouTube), Roadhouse, and Over the Top.  Seriously, they are hilarious.  Go check them out.  I would recommend watching said horrible movie before you listen to the podcast for full effect but it's not necessary.  

As in the case of Barb Wire.  I have never seen nor will I ever see that movie but I did listen to the How Did This Get Made podcast where they discussed this trainwreck and it was...memorable.  The woman comedian on the podcast, June Diane Raphael, is not only hysterical but she also lends a sympathetic tone to the podcast...usually acting as the lone defender of some of the most awful movies in history.  That's not to say she likes the movies.  It's more that she's trying to find the one redeeming quality where redeeming qualities are in short supply.

"Fans of gratuitous side boob, you're in luck!"  -- that's how the podcast for Barb Wire starts and it should give you a good idea of where the conversation is headed. That is, until June decides to find the elusive redeeming quality of the movie which is apparently Barb Wire's role as....a feminist?!?!?  Listening to June attempt to defend this hypothesis is priceless.  Do yourself a favor and download this podcast. 

The kickoff of June's defense of Barb Wire as a feminist (and the reason the conversation took this turn) was based on the visceral response Pam Anderson aka "Barb" has any time someone calls her "BABE": 

On the flip side (and perhaps the more honest version of events), one of the other cohosts, Jason Mantzoukas, calls Pam Anderson a, "stone cold dumb dumb," -- a phrase he uses frequently but which is most appropriate within the parameters of this movie.  

Whatever your stance, take a listen.  If you're really brave, watch the movie too....and let me know how it is. 

I don't know whether it's the copious breasticles, the big hair, or the satin gloves but this TOTALLY screams feminism to me!

Squirrels Be Like, "Manila Pedestrians Are Our Heroes"

I don't know how to write this without sounding like an intolerant fool.  All I can hope for is some modicum of understanding that I am doing my best to tell the truth and represent my DAILY experiences accurately. 

So, here goes...

It is my firm belief that the pedestrians in Manila are somehow related to squirrels.  Maybe not like brother/sister but perhaps a fourth cousin twice removed by marriage situation.

'sup?

Now, if you're an educated person, you know that, technically speaking, squirrels are rodents but that is NOT what I'm trying to say so you can just cease and desist with the scoffing and eye rolling.  I'm simply (and feebly) attempting to provide an analogy of my drive to and from work every day with the primary purpose of venting but also informing.  Ok Ok - this isn't REALLY meant to be educational...ya got me.  That's what is so wonderful about having a blog with 2.5 readers....very few people will hate me tomorrow so I can really just say what I want. 

I have a pretty soft heart when it comes to animals, as most people do.  When I was a teenager, I can vividly remember my mom picking me up from the Sunday matinee and driving me home through the quiet roads of my home town.   It was one of those rare chilly Texas afternoons when people tend toward indoor entertainment -- so there were no children at play and not many cars on the road.  This absence of traffic (both pedestrian and vehicle) led my mom to be perhaps slightly more careless than she would have normally been.  She wasn't going all Jeff Gordon on our city streets but maybe she was driving just a little bit more careless and chatting in a tad more carefree fashion.  Anyway, we both looked up and noticed a squirrel crossing the road and I swear to bejeebus, that thing looked right back at us and I had a moment where I thought, "Thank goodness, he knows he's doing something stupid and has decided to go back from whence he came (read: the other side of the damn street)."  

But you know where this is going right?  He did not go back.  He made what appeared to be a series of ill fated but also somehow thought-out (as much as a squirrel thinks things through) turns in the road before landing himself firmly under my mom's right rear tire.  THUMP!  Tails were twitching.  Brakes were screeching (too late!).  And mom was sucking air through her teeth in the most regretful way.  
 She was also begging me not to look in the rear view mirror.  Although honestly, I'm not sure what she was thinking by asking me not to look.  Was she sparing me the tragedy of seeing a rodent cute little animal fighting for its last breath or did she somehow think I would blame her for his PISS POOR DECISION MAKING?

Which brings me to the pedestrians here in Manila.  

1. Crosswalks cannot be trusted.  I get it. 
2. Cars do what they want regardless of when and where you decide to cross the street.    -- That sucks, I know.  I REALLY know.  I have more than a few times reached out and smacked a car that nearly ran over my dog while we were walking in a CROSSWALK to get to the park. 
3. You have to get to work....no matter what.  Good.For.You. 

Look at me!  I'm important...I need to hurry up and get to my outsourced data entry position where I will sit and mostly check facebook all day. 

But here's the thing, it will not help your situation to decide to cross the street and then only make it half way.   As you stand in the middle of one of the busiest streets in Metro Manila, I'm sorry to say, destiny is not on your side.  You are now stuck on the yellow lines of a road in a place where lanes do not matter.  Please do not then prescribe to the misguided notion that eye contact or arm waving (in the typical Phil fashion) will help your case. You've made your bed....helping you figure out how to un-f*ck yourself is not my problem.  You must decide, all by your lonesome, what to do next and guess what?  The WORST possible thing you can do is go all squirrel on us by deciding to do something then changing your mind 17 times.  

This happened while I was driving to work the other day.  It was gridlock but kinda fast paced gridlock, if that makes sense, and this guy tried to cross at the WRONG time.  He was stuck in between me and the car in front of me.  Initially, I tried to let him pass but HE WOULD NOT GO.  I waited for a bit and then started to move forward at which time..... AT WHICH MOTHER GRUBBING TIME.... he decides it's time to go so what happens?  I graze him with my front bumper.  

Are you shocked??!?!  No, of course not!
 
Funny thing is, I've gotten into lots of shouting matches with drivers here (mostly with mopeds and motorcycles) who have NO situational or personal-space awareness but this guy didn't even flinch.  This tells me, in his little squirrel heart, he knew he made the wrong decision.  

So there you go.  Just felt like sharing a little bit of my world with you.  

You're Really Photogenic aka You're Not That Good Looking in Real Life

Yet another demonstration that 1. my noggin' works in mysterious ways and 2. there are people out there whose noggins (work with me here) are even more messed up. 

So, someone delivered what I thought was a really nice compliment the other day:  "Those pictures from the other night were great.  You are really photogenic!" Awwww, blush blush...."Thanks," I said.  

Jump to the following day during a long stare into an unflattering mirror.  I do my best (and worst) thinking in the bathroom.  And no, you stinky boys, not on the toit-ey....while getting ready.  Neanderthals!  This particular instance of deep thought was definitely leaning toward the "worst" category....cause here is the ridiculous theory that entered my mind:   "I wonder if this person saying I was photogenic means that I'm really not that good looking in real life."  WHAT?!?!  I immediately wanted to unthink it but....too late...there it was.  Poor girl - she didn't even know that when she delivered a heartfelt compliment that it would later be torn apart by my inner insecure fairy.  Hmmm...need a different word.  Fairies seem like they'd be confident all the time, no?  

Anyhoo - there it is folks.  Some stupid shit that only a woman would dare to think.  I mean, there is not a snowball's chance in Arizona that a similar thought has crossed a dude's mind while contemplating a COMPLIMENT....a COMPLIMENT!!!  What is wrong with me/us/women?  

Or is it just me? 

Nope - cause take a gander at exhibit A:  What does photogenic really mean?

and Exhibit B:  You are SO photogenic

Hopefully, those are the least educated discussions on the topic.  I don't even dare quote some of these people.  Just read for yourself and feel utter shame for the human race but know that green really brings out the color in your eyes and you take a really good picture.  :)

Why CAN'T we be friends??

I wish I could go into all of the gory details because it would be an easier way to get to the point but the Internet is too damn available to too damn many people who might get their feelers hurt so I'll just say this:  I am sick and tired of having to play nice with bitchy women.  Bitchy might not be the right word.  Maybe it's jealous, insecure, judgmental, passive aggressive, two-faced....or some combination of all of the above.  

Usually before I write about an issue, I will take a gander at what others have published.  I'm fine restating what's already been said in a different way (it's hard to have an original thought in this day and age) but I tend to want to read supporting and counter arguments ... just to out of curiosity.  When I did that for this post, I came across this "gem" (she says, in a drawl that is dripping with sarcasm):  Top Ten Things that Make a Woman Threatening to Other Women.  Fundamentally, the points made are pretty accurate but the suggestions the author makes to help your situation when you're the "offending" woman are just plain ludicrous.  As if you should shelf your high heels, play dumb, be less beautiful, and not spend your own hard earned money....just to get other women to give you the time of day.  Horse shit. 

I will admit that I have been intimidated by another woman's beauty or intelligence in the past but I have ALWAYS recognized that the fault is mine and unless the person is unkind, I will find away to get over my insecurities.  Otherwise, look at all of the relationships I would lose out on.  And ultimately, we are all different and beautiful in our own way so what does it really matter?  But if I have a moment of insecurity, others have LIFETIMES.  Years of practice scowling at the pretty young girl in the office - "well....we all know how SHE climbed the corporate ladder don't we?!"  Or maybe they point out that the intelligent woman is a snob....."listen to that uppity bitch!" 

After enduring decades of judgment on sight - I.am.tired.  I am perfectly willing to accept that there is such a thing as a first impression but I am also aware that WE ARE ADULTS.  We should know by now that there is more to a person than what is on the surface...that if someone speaks her mind or offers an opinion, she's not attempting to threaten your livelihood or overshadow your own voice....she simply has her own voice.  So sluts, smarties, bitches, and babes - let's all just get over ourselves and be friends.  And if we can't be friends, ya think we could just live and let live instead of sabotaging each others' happiness?  Life would be so so so much sweeter that way.

Why I love the Brits, the Aussies, and the Canucks

There are lots of reasons actually.  Not the least of which includes my being able to travel to their countries and understand what they're saying.  Well....MOST of what they're saying.

I've been a bit of a news whore the last week or so and while reading an article about the G20 summit, I came across this statement by Henry Smith the Member of Parliament for Crawley:  "Putin really is a tosser."

Doesn't matter if you agree with him or not but you gotta love the Brits and their slang.  I'm sure it's because I'm American (and southern at that) but there's something about hearing them curse that's always just a little bit....cute. 

Photo attribution

But it's not just the curse words.  It's things like "trainers" and the other "rubbers" that make me smile.  So, without further ado, a few of my favorites (attributed to their countries where possible, of course): 

(If you are British, Canadian, or Australian I hope you won't take offense to the terms Aussies, Canucks, and Brits.  It's all in good fun...jolly good.  tee hee)

A over T - Aussies (Ass over tits, head over heels)
Barbie - Aussies

Bathers - Aussies (swimming gear)
Beastly - Brits
Bees knees - Brits
Bikies - Aussies (motorcyclists)
Bikkies - Aussies (not to be confused with Bikies.  Bikkies are biscuits. Um...adorable.)
Bloody - British
Blooming - Aussie/Brits
Bollocks - Brits
Boomer - Aussies (very large; an exceptionally large male kangaroo.  Stone Cold Steve Austin is probably a boomer.)
Brekkie - Aussie (breakfast.  and btw, i'm starting to think zach would really fit in down under since he calls a sandwich a "sandwy".)
Bugger - Brits
Cheeky - Brits
Choke a darkie - Aussie (take a poop.  ahahahahahahaha hahahahaha hahahahaha!)
Dishy - Brits (it means good looking.  how cute is that?)
Chuck a sickie - Aussie (calling off work when you're not really sick)
Doodle - Aussie (penis)
Dog's bollocks - as opposed to bollocks, this is apparently a good thing

Fanny - British (be careful in Britain though - it's actually referencing a woman's FRONT BITS.  who knew?!?!)
Footy - Aussie (Australia rules football) 
Get Stuffed - Canucks (Go eff yourself)
Giv'n her - Canucks (means to complete an act to its full potential.  short for given her hell)
Gobsmacked - Brits
Gorp - Canucks (trail mix)
Hoser - Canucks (loser)
Housecoat - Canucks (bathrobe)
Hydro - Canucks (electricity)
Kerfuffle - Canucks (stressful situation or commotion)
Knapsack - Canucks (backpack)
Lollies - Aussie (candies or sweets)
Mutt's Nuts - Brits (obviously another way to say dog's bollocks - LOVE it!)
What are you on about? - Brits (aka shut the eff up!) 
Rainbow sneeze - Aussie (vomit)
Rubbish - Brits
Run a message - Canucks (run an errand)
Scrumping - Brits but totally not what you're thinking.  It means to go stealing (apples from someone else's tree, for instance)
Shag - British (duh)
Sod, Sod's law, Sod it - Brits (sod's law is like Murphy's law....if anything can go wrong it will. )
Tosser - Brits (a jerk, someone who masturbates all the time.  and, bonus points if you guess what hand gesture goes along with this insult....)
Wanker - Brits (see tosser)
Weatherin' - Canucks (term to describe bad weather.  "It's weatherin' here so be careful." 

So there you have it!  A not-so-exhaustive list of slang-isms from our allies.  Please feel free to share some of your favorites that I've left off.  I know there are LOTS more out there!

Happy Friday!  (Thursday night if you're in Amurrica)

Need a break from news about Syria?

Why not do a bit of time traveling with me? 

I have been on a bit of an artsy fartsy kick lately which obviously means I am still jobless.  But that, my friends is not the point.  The point is, in my search for the perfect images to satisfy my little collage heart, I finally found a used bookstore in our neighborhood.  The selection is far from vast but I did manage to find a few gems including a 1973 National Geographic.  Not only did this NatGeo provide me with some good clippings,  it also led me on a bit of a stroll down memory lane.  Though 1973 is a few years before my time, I still feel like these pictures are a part of my past.  That, and some of them made me laugh hysterically so I thought I'd share.  My how far we've come.... 

Look at that beast! I sometimes wonder how these cars were ever able to turn even the simplest of corners.  The turn radius on these caddies must have been horrific.  Still, nothin like driving your hearse to the yacht club. What do you think that guy is thinking?  "Look at my streamlined new ride!  If I look the other way, I might be able to see all the way to the front grill.  Why...this Cadillac is practically a compact car!" - No?  You don't think that's what he is contemplating?

Not just Chromocolor but SUPER Chromacolor.  WTF is chromacolor?!?! Hey, but how could you ever turn down a TV that came with its own white plastic stand and a faux wood finish?

Tee hee.  Think this pretty much speaks for itself.  Yep - that's right....there's a projector involved.

Ah - the good ol' flying "W"

The "Accutron" - bringing technology....and awkward design elements to a wrist near you.

Hey you! Delicate flower! Yeah, you should really park over there...

I find the singling out of female drivers especially funny in a place where anything goes when you're behind the wheel.  I am not sure whether this is supposed to be a reward for taking our chances on the street or punishment for our perceived driving inabilities.  It's either, "Sorry you had to go through that, please feel free to park here," or "Jesus look out!  Please don't park by the menfolk.  We don't want you girlies denting up the car next to ya." 

I will say that, of the crazy drivers on Manila streets, the women are the LEAST of our problem.  If there's a blinker engaged or a full stop at a stop sign (or hell, stop LIGHT), I will often look over and see a woman behind the wheel.  

At any rate, it's pretty damn funny that they'd go to the trouble of painting a sign.  You can't tell by the picture but this is a whole row reserved for females .... right next to the garage entrance.  

Oooooh - I just had a thought though.  What if they started doing this at clubs or restaurants but instead of just "parking for females" it became "parking for females in high heels"?  OMG - I might actually get to wear those fancy shoes I'm always dreaming about. 

Lost in Translation, Part Three - Water Deliver Edition

Welcome to another installment of Lost in Translation.  Today on "Lost", we find the author of Simple Pleasures not enjoying ANY simple pleasures whatsoever.  Meanwhile, somewhere in Manila, a crowd of 17 year old delivery boys are laughing their fool heads off.  And these....are the days...of my life.....

Saturday is a typical water delivery day for us.  We call or text sometime during the week and they show up Saturday (after lunch) with our water.  I did that.  They confirmed.  I thought we were all good.  Saturday came and went without any sign of our water refills.   (NOTE: You will understand why I italicized "after lunch" later.)

Late Saturday evening

Me: Where is my water? 

Water peeps: Mam we currently out of stock of wilkins no delivery from plant.  Hopefully by monday or tuesday.  we have stock. thanks. 

Me: Out of all water or do you have other brands? 

Water peeps: Yes we do

Me: So, NO water? Or just no wilkins?

Water peeps: Yes mam no water. Im sorry, by monday we have a delivery of of viva coming. 

Me: What is the price? 

Water peeps: 135. 

Me: Ok, please deliver 7 bottles of viva asap. 

Water peeps: Ok. 

Me: Um...when will you deliver? 

Water peeps: After lunch. 

It was at this point that I started to have visions of the "two weeks" scenes from Money Pit...

 Monday Afternoon (enter tropical storm Maring)

Me: Where is my water? 

Me: It was supposed to be here after lunch today? This is the customer at 123 IAmGoingCrazy Lane.

Water Peeps:  Sori mam.  Our office closed 2day becoz of flooding.  Our staff didnt come in due to no available transportation.

Me: Tomorrow then? 

Water Peeps: Ok

Me: U should let customers know.  I could have gotten some at grocery just now but didn't because I thought it would be delivered. 

Water peeps: Mam our house are flooded.  I hope u understand why i cant let you know that no delivery today.  I live at xxxxx.  No electricity, my celphne are lowbat. 

Great - now I feel like an asshole.  Except, WTF?!?!  I am just trying to get water.  Not like it's important for survival or sustenance or anything.  I should really just keep my trap shut and start boiling water from the tap right?  Oh hells no...

Tuesday Morning

Me: I understand its difficult but I was just trying to figure out when to expect delivery.  Plz don't take it personally. 

For the record, I didn't even bother to ask about delivery on Tuesday.  The rain here has been constant the last couple of days.  Monday and Tuesday were total washouts and I'm sure Wednesday would have been also were it not already a holiday.  At this point, I was just hoping they'd decide to work the holiday....and that the rain would effing let up.

Wednesday Afternoon

Me: Is there any chance we will get water soon? 
1228 Today

Water peeps: Pls wait mam our delivery was in 123 IAmGoingCrazy Lane already

Me: Wait until when?  U delivered water today?!?  When will we get ours?

Water peeps: Yes 2day mam this afternoon.  After lunch. 

Me: Ok great! Thank you! 1232 (btw - LOOK AT ME!!!  I am still trying to be gracious!)

Me: Is the water still coming?
---627 pm today

And I know this will shock you but after two hours of waiting for a response.....nada.  Good thing we're not thirsty.  Strike that.  Good thing we have wine and beer.  Plenty of water in those two beverage staples.

The moral of this story is, dammit I DO care and I DO sympathize but that doesn't mean I don't want some tiny wittle bittle shred of customer service.  Just TELL me you're not coming.  I could have bought a GD case of water from the S&R and the problem would have been solved.  I would have happily (ok, that might be a stretch) waited until after you got your shit together and the storm passed for my water because I would have had a water cushion.  Ha - that sounds funny no?  A water cushion.  You didn't know we were living in Wet 'n Wild did ya? 

For what it's worth to anyone who might be confused or gives a damn, it's not as easy as you might think to find a replacement water delivery "company".  And I now know that "company" is not at all an accurate way of describing a kid on a bike, peddling from god knows where to deliver our water.  But you get the idea.  It's just not that easy to find someone to get off their poop shoots and deliver water on the spot.  So here I sit with a 1/2 a bottle of water, rain that is sputtering out, and patience so fried you could serve it up at the Texas State Fair.  This is neither a tragedy or a crisis.  If push comes to shove, I'll just send Z down to the market to pick some up.  But that is....BESIDE THE DAMN POINT!

I can't wear pointy shoes anymore...and 35 other ways my mid-30s differ greatly from my mid-20s..

1. My flats now officially outnumber my heels.

2. My freckles are combining to form one, large superfreckle.

3. I will never experiment with dark hair colors - gray is only well concealed by blonde.  Sorry my brunette friends.  It's a fact.

4. Vodka is (still) not my friend and more importantly, I am finally realizing she never really was.  Bitch.   

5. I rarely stay up past 11 or sleep in later than 7. 

6. I floss....more than once a day and without anyone telling me to. 

7. I unashamedly buy prunes at the grocery store and actually like the way they taste. 

If you buy this bag, you can trick yourself into thinking you're eating "plums" and not prunes.  Let's not get all attentiony to detailsy ok?  I know they're the same.

8.  My idea of a fun birthday is going to a midget restaurant and going to bed early enough that I can still make the Saturday morning market at 0730. (Seriously, that's what we're doing tonight.  Going to the "Hobbit House" - please try to tell me you're not jealous.  LIAR!)

9. My coffee maker cost more than most people's yearly salary in the Philippines. 

10. I still spend hours at the gym but I have realized life is too short not to have a piece of cake every once in a while. 

11. On the rare occasion I am spotted at "the club", I am usually trying to locate an empty barstool because...#12.

12.  I can't wear pointy shoes anymore....or let's be honest, ANY heels for more than 2 hours.  Screw you heredity and bad decisions!! Screw you!  

13. People are FINALLY doing the math.  She's 35?  Yeah...maybe she's really NOT having kids.  

14.  I think I'm in a different census bracket.  

15. My oldest nephew is in college....and has been for a while now.  This must hurt my sister worse than it does me. BWAHAHAHAHAHAH!!  

16.  The outside of the card that my husband gave me this morning says, "To the 35 year old woman who lives with me." WTF?!?!  I shudder to think what it says on the inside.  Then again, it's atop a Hermes bag so how bad could it be??

17. OMG 17! I don't even remember you anymore!

18. I no longer tight roll my jeans although I did give into the skinny jeans trend some time ago.  I am ashamed....(yes, I know that tight rolling was not a 2003 kinda thing but a 35-item-long list is tough ok??)

19. My toes are perpetually polished....and almost always by someone else!  BAM!  I found a 35 year old perk. 

20. I cook.  Like....a lot.  Real meals and shit. 

21. I barely remember what it's like to live in Texas but I will never stop being a Texan!

22. I haven't cried at the sound of a Matchbox Twenty song in over 10 years but I still sing along (er...yell) with P!nk.  That bitch speaks the truf!

23. I no longer consider tight jeans and a halfsy top wardrobe staples.  That is HALF true.  

24. I am a responsible and dedicated pet owner.  Consider this an open apology to Harley, Chevy and Rufus - who I loved but didn't really know how to take care of. 

25. There it is - 25.  TEN EFFING YEARS AGO?!?!  What the hell happened? Well, everything, thank god. 

26. In six months, I will have been away from "home" for 10 years. 

27. I looooooooove grocery shopping.  I liked it in my mid-20s but I couldn't afford anything so, as you can imagine, not so fun.  Now I could (happily) spend a whole day at Wegmans or Harris Teeter or Kroger or Target Superstore.  Sigh...I miss 'Murrica. 

28. I am a wife...and a pretty good one most days. 

29. I regularly plan for retirement and can visualize the library I will build in our dream home....on a lake...surrounded by animals...and family...and....you get the idea. 
 

That picture is like porn to me.

30. I don't thoughtlessly destroy furniture on creative whims.  Hello decoupage!

31. I covet...and can actually afford a full set of Le Creuset cookware.  

32. I have transitioned into quality vs. quantity.  At least, in my mind I have.  Hard.to.let.go.

33. I am pretty good at keeping plants alive.  When I first started dating Z, he had me watch his cactus "Clint" when he went out of town.  I left Clint on the patio - in the winter - in Virginia.  Whoops.
 

RIP Clint

34. I realize I still have a lot of growing up to do but I try to be a better person every day because even though I hope I have a lot of livin' to do, you just never know. 

35. I am happy.  For real....really happy.

How has your life changed in the last 10 years?  Hey FB friends and family...feel free to respond on my actual blog.  I can ask you to do this because, dammit, it's my birthday! :)

Val Kilmer's Elbow

From time to time (read: DAILY), I am guilty of  going down random rabbit-holes on the interwebs.  I have admittedly gotten lost searching "celebrity deformities" more than once as it is by far one of the more satisfying time wasters.  Now, because I am a typically nice person and have a guilty conscience, I would like to caveat that I don't think the following deformities/abnormalities/quirks make any of these people less beautiful or talented but I think sometimes we forget that these folks are real people.  They poo poo on the potty, probably pick their nose, and don't wake up looking like they do on the cover of the magazines we are constantly buying.  These little irregularities just happen to bring home that fact.

No chance I'm even close to the first person who has shared these photos but hey, the beauty of a personal blog is that it's personal.  I can do what I want!  None of the following are my photos (obvi!), fyi.  No attribution provided because there are so many copies out there, it's impossible to find the original. So, without further ado....DEFORMITIES OF YOUR FAVORITE STARS:

In the interest of full disclosure, I think that his elbow has gotten significantly better over the last several years.  Apparently, it was calcium buildup after he fell on it while filming a scene for The Doors. 

 I think this is my favorite.  I may have even already blogged about it.  I would have NEVER seen this on my own.  Thank you webstalkers!  Anything that helps us make fun of T.C. is appreciated.

OUCH!

Toe nubbins!!!!

No one looks at her damn belly button anyway!

 

Again, I'm guessing 99.999999% of the world's male population could give two shits about her thumbs!

Of course, his quirk is super cool!

Admit it, you're jealous you can't do "nanoo nanoo!" with your toes!

Way too distracted by his abs to even notice he has nipples...much less three of them.

And this is like a mini tribute to Granny D.  I used to untwist her twisty toes for fun.  Grandparents will let you do anything, I swear. 

What's your TV pick me up?

When I was a Sophomore in high school, I can vividly remember being so broken hearted and confused that I could barely breathe.  Nothing, I repeat, NOTHING could bring me up out of my teenage girl funk. 

Then one Thursday night, I was sitting alone in my room watching TV (thanks mom and dad for spoiling me so much that I had my own phone line AND TV in my room) and Friends came on.  I don't remember what episode it was exactly or whether I had watched it at all before but something they said or did made me laugh...out loud.  I had been crying so hard that my eyes had nearly puffed shut (as they tend to do when I cry; I guess I figure, go hard or go home).  Then suddenly, I was brought out of the depths of despair by a TV show and I was LAUGHING!*** It was at that moment that I realized that the boy that had broken my heart (and would do so several more times in the years that followed) wasn't the last boy I would love and that life would...somehow...go on.   It's all very dramatic, isn't it?  But that's what being a teenage girl is.  Drama.  

If I'm erring on the side of full disclosure here, I would say that I am still prone to fits of inexplicable tears.  Well, they're explicable to me but that is beside the point.  What I'm trying to say is that, from time to time, I give in to the blues.  I wail and sigh and play sad songs and then something happens.  Cassie does something so ridiculous I couldn't possibly keep crying.  Z says "let's play tennis tomorrow" ... how can I stay mad at someone who wants to play tennis with me?  I am HORRIBLE at tennis so he must be a saint.  And then sometimes, my funk is broken by something on television.  Friends has long since gone off air but I own the first season because I think I owe it to those five wacky kids.  That, and it's still funny.  I chuckle EVERY SINGLE TIME I think of the couch moving episode.  "PIVOT!  PIVOT!"

I don't really watch a lot of TV anymore.  Weird time zones and a general lack of time to vegetate are at the root of that I suppose.  But there are a lot of things on TV that instantly make me smile or in lieu of smiling, make me feel like my life ain't all that bad (ahem, can you say Intervention and Hoarders??).   Same goes for movies - I have a RomCom, Audrey Hepburn, 80s movies, and horror movie collection that is unparalleled but in the interest of simplicity, let's just stick to TV.

What are your TV pick me ups??

***some may call this bipolar but I think that may be a bit presumptuous. 

Lost in Translation Part Deux

My walls are still white.  


I'm feeling like this guy....

After this exchange I guess I shouldn't be surprised but you know what I am allowed to feel?  Annoyed.  And boy am I.  

On Friday, the painters came. I thought they were coming with colors to pick from and would offer a quote.  I was partially right.  Apparently, they were just coming to introduce themselves, give us a quote, and tell us what to pick up from the hardware store.  I guess that's why the labor is so cheap - it does NOT come with its own supplies.  After reciting the list of items we'd need to pick up from the store, we CONFIRMED (please read that again....CONFIRMED) the painters would arrive ready to work Monday morning after 0900.  I told the main guy (*we'll call him Pablo the Painter) that if we were for some reason unable to acquire the materials before Monday, I would send him a text and let him know.  (On a side note, you should be aware that Pablo the Painter is only the "main guy" because his English is the best of the group.  He is not really a painter at all.  He's someone's driver. His brother is the painter by trade.  But anyway...I digress.)

It seemed all was right with the world.  We were a little aggravated to have to go get the paint and supplies ourselves but for getting two whole rooms painted for about $27, we couldn't really complain. 

So anyway, here's what went down (and remember, this is all via text message because that's how EVERYONE here communicates): 

455p (Sunday), Pablo the Painter:  Good afternoon mam are the painters ready for tomorrow to come mam?  

601p (Sunday) Me: We have the stuff so yes.  Not before 9am please. 

1030a (Monday) Me: Do you know what time they will arrive? 

crickets....crickets.....crickets..chirpy chirp chirrrrrrp

1054a Me: Do you know what time they will arrive? 

crickets again .... frustration rising....visions of what I COULD have gotten accomplished this morning floating through my head. 

1119a  Me:  I have some things to do this afternoon.  Will they be here soon? 

1120a Pablo the Painter:  Yes mam

yay!!  it's still technically morning so my anger fades and I start thinking about where I'm going to hang things when they're done. 

1129a Pablo the Painter:  Maybe tomorrow mam they will come. they are waiting order to come today i text you last night mam. 

W.T.F?!?!?!?! Anger returns, amplified....I am at DefCon 5 - full scale bitch alert. 

1131a  Me:  And I replied last night that we were ready.  Why are you just now telling me they can't come today? 

1133a Pablo the Painter: I did not recieve your text mam just their names only mam.  (he's referencing a text I sent confirming their names for the front desk if you care; which I'm certain you don't)

1134a Me:  9 am tomorrow or we will just find someone else ok? 

1136a Pablo the Painter: Okay i'm sorry i will them mam.

I need a hero....

....I'm holdin out for a hero 'til the end of the night!

Or in this case, rush hour.

This guy is my hero.  Without him, I'm not sure how we'd make this u-turn every day.  We'd probably still be parked next to the curb - husbear growing a ZZ Top beard and me "showering" with wet wipes.  So, I'm declaring Officer SO and SO my new hero.

For what it's worth, I really have no idea what he's doing but if I were to hazard a guess (based on extensive research of course), I'd say he is diligently telling drivers to do what they would have done anyway....drive through a green light.  I can see no real reason why he needs to be out there, snuffing down gallons of car pollution just to tell us to go in the very direction we were already headed.  But who am I to question authoritay?!  I'm sure he and his family are just glad he has a job and judging by the super efficient way he waves people in the right direction, I'm guessing he's been doing this a long long time.

One of my favorite things about the Philippines so far is this hand waving gesture.  I guess a video would have been more appropriate here.  Anyway, it's like a come hither gesture but with the palm facing down.  To me, it looks like they're trying to catch a bug or some such thing.  I love it and am determined to perfect this particular hand signal before we depart.

Guess he doesn't have eyes in the back of his head afterall.

And the infamous "pointy finger" traffic signal.  What makes this even more ridiculous is just how many cars are in the possible crosshairs of said pointy finger.  Maybe it's meant to be more of a general pointy finger guide and necessarily intended for one vehicle?  But I gotta tell ya, it FEELS personal...like he's pointing at your SOUL!

Foxie Doxie loves her snuggie....and Mr. Snake

These photos were taken at least a week apart.  Can you say creature of habit?  That's the purple homemade snuggie (that's right HOMEMADE! Jealous much???) that she's laying on and of course that's not sufficient so she also gets a blanket that is nicer than the one her humans currently have to sleep under.   Many thanks to my sister in law Cameron for making the snuggie which turned Cassie into the the laziest wiener on the planet.  Totally wasn't the case beforehand - nope, no way.  

Update:  Mr. Snake has been replaced by an empty bottle of Gatorade now.   Fickle.

I like that you can actually see her wrinkly little chicken neck in this one.  Z likes to play with it and say "gobble, gobble" - she probably has developed a complex.

Tamarind - looks like poo, tastes delicious!

Careful now, you might actually learn something if you read the following but don't worry, I promise to add some mind numbing commentary that I probably think is hilarious and makes you think I'm just plain weird. 

As I've mentioned before, one of the greatest things about living in the Philippines is direct access to all of the exotic fruits and vegetables.  With a market right outside our building every Saturday, I literally have no excuse not to try everything.  Now, admittedly, I did not acquire this particular batch of fruit at a market and this is technically my second box (it's THAT good) but I haven't had Internet for a week....so sue me.  

TAMARIND is a pod-like fruit that grows on a tree native to tropical Africa.  The name "tamarind" comes from tamar hindi or "Indian date" which is fitting since the tamarind tastes a bit like a sweet and sour date. 

Full grown Tamarind tree:

Photo Attribution

And here are the pods still attached to the tree: 

Photo Attribution

Now you are starting to understand the poo reference, no?


Most of us have had tamarind without even knowing it....ever eat Worcestershire sauce?  Tamarind is one of the main ingredients.  Who knew?!  It's also used in all kinds of seasonings (especially in Southeast Asia), chutneys, curries, etc.  In the Yin/Yang philosophy that is applied to many Asian dishes, the tamarind would be considered a "Yin" food because of its slightly acidic yet cooling qualities. 

Though it has some of the highest sugar content of any fruit, it also has some pretty substantial health benefits.  It's high(ish) in dietary fiber and has a significant amount of tartaric acid - which is apparently a very powerful antioxidant (and no, I didn't know any of this prior to 5 minutes ago, wikipedia, and a google search).  Tamarind is also a good source of iron, calcium, and thiamine.  It is used as a mild laxative, a digestive and as a remedy for bile disorders (ew!). 

If you like dates, I think you'll like the tamarind.  You kinda never know what you're going to get until you crack open the shell.  Sometimes, they are very sweet (more mature) and sometimes, super sour (younguns).  If they're dry, don't eat them.  Also, if they're covered in dead maggots (don't ask), I might shy away.  I like them in the shell because eating them is more like an activity.  If you're a fan of peanuts in the shell or peel and eat shrimp, you know what I mean.  Eating a tamarind isn't just good because they taste great but it's entertaining too. 

Having said ALL that, you must get over the appearance of the tamarind to enjoy the fruits (pun, as usual, fully intended) of your labor.  

You can see what I mean: 

 

Look at that!  Even with special lighting and all of the photo fixes Picasa could muster it still looks like Mr. Hanky the Christmas poo. 

The similarities are uncanny.  And btw, anyone else bothered yet slightly excited that there is a Mr. Hankey bobble head??

Sadly, I think tamarind is pretty hard to find in the States so you may be out of luck.  Then again, given above Christmas Poo reference, you might not be in the market for tamarind....like....ever.