For the moment, the whole of the Philippines is waiting feverishly on who the next President will be for our blessed republic. As I speak, Noynoy Aquino is leading, followed--as though we lived in a strange, Lewis Carroll nightmare--by Joseph Estrada. I can't bear to watch it. I can't bear to watch the future of my country blow up in front of my ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

Inasmuch as I want to enjoy the proverbial glow still emanating from me from my amazing weekend in Zambales, I can't ignore the fact that some people are just manipulative jerks. I guess some people you never really know. Your worlds are too different, the edges are too blurred. It's like tiptoeing at the edge of a cliff without knowing if it would ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

( Read more... )

( Read more... )

( Read more... )

( Read more... )

( Read more... )

A little dirt on me.

1. I pick at my fingers. A lot. I pick them to the point when they'd bleed and it really hurts and at the worst I have to hold a wad of tissue down on it so that the blood would stop flowing. Several times I've been scolded for this and Jerome even takes my hand to hold just so I'd stop doing it. I don't notice when I'm doing it ( Read more... )