this was rommel's reply:
06 February 2011
05 February 2011
thank you, rommel!
i've never had one of these before. that's probably because i don't drink coffee at Starbucks that much... anyway, thanks to Rommel -- meron na akong Starbucks planner! he had to commission someone to bring it to Cagayan de Oro so it can get to me. haha. thank you Chill! :)
03 February 2011
choco-almond overload!
our friend dexter's sister needed to bring something for teacher's day, so they ordered some of mom's chocolate moist cake. well, there were some left overs (ingredients) and i found almonds stored in the fridge... after roasting and crushing those lil bastards, i used them to top the cake. it was so yummeeeeeeh! melt-in-your-mouth goodness with a little crunch. mama did not know what to call it, so dr. obvious named it choco-almond overload :)
01 February 2011
spanish style bangus
we bought fresh bangus, soaked it in brine and added the spanish-style essentials. pressure cooked the bottled bangus... who would have thought this was home made? :) so yummy!
28 January 2011
mama makes a mean pancake.
my brother got excited and smothered his pancakes with the choc0-strawberry syrup. hehe.
26 January 2011
H went jogging today :)
H woke up early and picked her outfit and placed her companion, Little Turtle, in her left pocket...
...she was psyched to go jogging with Mommy and Grandma!
H said "hi" to Mr. Cow...
She wanted to stay with Mr. Cow...
...but figured it's best to jog with Grandma instead!
Suddenly, H realized that Little Turtle left her pocket :(
"Where is Turtle?", she cried.
This purple cupcake cheered her up, though.
On the walk home, Grandma found Little Turtle!
Turtle was run over by a few vehicles, we figured. He lost both his eyes which made our H cry.
"Don't worry my H, I will fix little Turtle. I will give him eyes!" said Grandma.
Grandma's assurance was enough to make H smile.
THANK YOU LOLA! ^_^
Look at Turtle now:
24 January 2011
7th
i got my 7th piercing today!!! (three piercings on my left ear, three on the right and one on the tongue)
thanks to my sister Karen. :)
21 January 2011
from chex
I'm Too Big
by Franchesca Casauay on Friday, January 21, 2011 at 4:13pm
and I'd love to shrink it all,
diet my personality,
sick of blubbering through my life
heart-broken, but ox-strong,
clench-toothed, sure-footed, swollen
solid like the ugly cactus plant
storing up lonely sips
of water.
If I could just have those stick legs,
loose and dangling in baggy dress slacks,
thighs too skinny to keep anyone warm,
or the cold puckered dot of a nipple,
too tight to nurture. Give me a belly
so small that it doesn't need much, so queasy,
it never loves so desperately this feeling,
of full.
I'm too big,
and I envy the fragile woman
with her long thin hands,
too tired just writing a thank you note
much less touching someone—
holding anything. Those small feet
stepping lightly, pitter-patting
her delicacy, scooting around the mess.
Or the oohs and aahs of her tiny gestures,
the simple tilt of her crème white neck,
the sunken clavicle, and the lilting spine
lacing up a smooth-skinned back
that can't hold much weight,
so none is ever put.
Her whispered sleep, sacred.
Her tiny words, momentous.
Her close-lipped smile, rare.
I wish I could surger myself
narrow my eyes, too wide-set, close up
my sinuses so I don't have these smells
to remember, or miss. Here, take a rib—
I'd rather not expand like this
every time I breathe. And oh,
for a smaller head.
I'd shrink it myself if I could,
place my hands on my temples
the way Rhett did Scarlett,
tussling her frizzy hair,
and squeeze, veins popping,
until I squashed out all my big ideas
about love.
I'm tired of being too much,
the whole Sunday paper
when you just want the classifieds,
the waste of gaudy Christmas decorations,
meat scraps thrown to the dogs.
And though I don't really believe that less
is more, or that not enough is pleasure,
I've yet to find the ones who love
a big mouth like mine, the laughing teeth,
and wine-filled cheeks, the throaty echo
of deep vowel sounds,
my big words.
And what's worse, I think I'm growing.
--Marguerite Scott
by Franchesca Casauay on Friday, January 21, 2011 at 4:13pm
and I'd love to shrink it all,
diet my personality,
sick of blubbering through my life
heart-broken, but ox-strong,
clench-toothed, sure-footed, swollen
solid like the ugly cactus plant
storing up lonely sips
of water.
If I could just have those stick legs,
loose and dangling in baggy dress slacks,
thighs too skinny to keep anyone warm,
or the cold puckered dot of a nipple,
too tight to nurture. Give me a belly
so small that it doesn't need much, so queasy,
it never loves so desperately this feeling,
of full.
I'm too big,
and I envy the fragile woman
with her long thin hands,
too tired just writing a thank you note
much less touching someone—
holding anything. Those small feet
stepping lightly, pitter-patting
her delicacy, scooting around the mess.
Or the oohs and aahs of her tiny gestures,
the simple tilt of her crème white neck,
the sunken clavicle, and the lilting spine
lacing up a smooth-skinned back
that can't hold much weight,
so none is ever put.
Her whispered sleep, sacred.
Her tiny words, momentous.
Her close-lipped smile, rare.
I wish I could surger myself
narrow my eyes, too wide-set, close up
my sinuses so I don't have these smells
to remember, or miss. Here, take a rib—
I'd rather not expand like this
every time I breathe. And oh,
for a smaller head.
I'd shrink it myself if I could,
place my hands on my temples
the way Rhett did Scarlett,
tussling her frizzy hair,
and squeeze, veins popping,
until I squashed out all my big ideas
about love.
I'm tired of being too much,
the whole Sunday paper
when you just want the classifieds,
the waste of gaudy Christmas decorations,
meat scraps thrown to the dogs.
And though I don't really believe that less
is more, or that not enough is pleasure,
I've yet to find the ones who love
a big mouth like mine, the laughing teeth,
and wine-filled cheeks, the throaty echo
of deep vowel sounds,
my big words.
And what's worse, I think I'm growing.
--Marguerite Scott
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