ain't no mountain high enough, or so i think

thanks to peer pressure (apparently, 30-somethings still buckle), i am going to do the unimaginable. much to my horror, i was shoved out of my comfort zone and found myself committing to a CLIMB.

i will climb a mountain this friday.

of course this isn't hardcore climbing. i have been assured that 10-year-olds have hurdled this particular trail, and i suspect that because i know this, pride will be the single most important factor that will drive me to reach the peak. regardless of level of difficulty though, it is still a mountain. and it is still something i never ever thought i would do.

as this is probably the first and last time i am going to do this, i am deciding to milk the event for all its worth. as it turns out, it's a great way to get out of other stuff. for instance:

"can you meet the friday deadline?"
"i need an extension. i'm going to climb a mountain."

"can you meet me for dinner this thursday?"
"oh no, sorry, i'm going to climb a mountain."

"please run away with me by the end of the week."
"oh i can't. i'm going to climb a mountain."

i may or may not be missing the point of the activity.

so if after this week, my blog becomes stagnant again, it might not be my run-of-the-mill laziness, ok? it's entirely possible that i ... stayed (sounds better than "met my untimely demise"?) ... in the mountain. so there. ha!

mountain climbing. the ultimate excuse.

something *i* didn't know about myself

they say children are close to God's heart so when i was conveniently beside juancho (the ever-famous – to me at least – 3-year-old nephew) while he was saying his evening prayer, i semi-jokingly whispered into his ear:

"ask God to give tita eng (that's me, in case you were the least bit interested) a husband, ok?"

so juancho obediently droned, "and please give tita eng a husband."

after a long pause, he turned to his mom (who was on the other side of the bed we were on) and said:

"mom, tita eng is sad. that's why she's looking for a husband."

[insert deadpan expression here]

in case you were waiting for further clarifications, denials or confirmations from me, i will warn you right now that there will be none of the sort. there will be, however, a question: since when have 3-year-olds become so introspective?

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newsflash: juancho's mom is giving birth sometime in june or july. juancho is going to have a sister! my blog will have a new character/miniature psychoanalyst! wheeee!

life will never be the same

(warning: this entry will not mean anything to you if you know nothing about CSI)

today, i had a life-changing moment.

i was watching tv (ok, that's not the moment) and saw one of the 3,182 teasers for CSI they show daily. as usual, they were playing the theme song and quite automatically*, i was singing along:

"hooo wahooo ... hu hu, hu hu"

and then ... AND THEN ...

... they showed the words to the song, which turns out to be a real song by "the who":

"WHO ARE YOU? Who, who, who, who?"

there. are. actual. words. in. the. CSI. song.

i was floored – in this case, figuratively because i was already sprawled on the couch during this life-changing moment.

(yes, that was the moment)

so naturally, i did what one is supposed to do when one has just gone through a life-changing moment: i took a nap.

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*interestingly, juanchothethreeyearoldnephew also sings along with tv ads and trailers (disclaimer: not the real lyrics) – "LET'S GET IT SCARTED ... AND UP! LET'S GET IT SCARTED ... AND UP! ... Scar World."

the three strikes to end the year: 2005, you're OUT!

(now wasn't that a really long, unfunny title for a blog entry? no need to email me your affirmation.)

the time: new year's eve
the setting: dinner table
the characters: goosey (g) and blog author (ba)

(i wanted to give an explanation after each mini-story for why these one-liners are funny, but decided to respect your intelligence.)

STRIKE ONE:
g: what are we going to drink tonight?
ba: do we have champagne?
g: we have wine with SPARKLERS.

STRIKE TWO:
g: i watched a dvd with juancho.
ba: which one?
g: the one with BILL THE CARPENTER.

STRIKE THREE:
g: let's taste that bread!
ba: ok, have a piece.
g: what do you call this again? MOCACCIA?

[after laughing loud enough to be heard above the usual new year racket, ba pauses and faces g with a serious look]

ba: mother, please, if you have the slightest bit of self-respect left in you, i urge you to refrain from saying anything else before the stroke of midnight.

she willingly agreed.

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here's to a funnier 2006!

37 years and still going

today is my parents' 37th wedding anniversary. in the car on our way to lunch, we listened to a newly purchased "Christmas With the Rat Pack" (i highly recommend this). my mother was suddenly possessed by the spirit of Christmas present and began to sing along:


through the years we all will be together

if the fates allow

hang a shining star

upon the highest bough

and have yourself

a merry little Christmas ...

... TREE


my mother: a bottomless source of amusement. to her credit, she tried to muffle the last vowel sound in an effort to disguise the error. to my credit, i unhesitatingly pointed an accusing finger and laughed my brain out.

happy anniversary to dad and goosey* – here's to more years of unintentional comedy.

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*evolution: mama -> mother -> mother goose -> goose -> goosey.