juanch, the christmas composer

'tis the season for strange lyrics from a strange (but adorable) 2.5-year-old nephew.

juancho can't pronounce the r sound yet, which makes for an interesting (intewesting):

jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell yuck . . . (or maybe he has the sarcasm gene too?)


now this one, i can't explain:

c is for the candystone around the christmas tree . . .


and now for an embarrassingly true story:

i wanted to put the correct lyrics for the christmas alphabet and proceeded to type, "to my lyric-challenged friends -- it's 'candy cane', in case you were wondering" only to find out that it ISN'T. according to bestfriendofthemillennium google, it's:

c is for the candy trimmed around the christmas tree.

my thoughts:
1. candy around the tree? who does that in manila!?
2. i like my parenthesis-infused entries more than my colon-studded ones.
3. "colon-studded" sounds like a disease.

ssssssssseriously, isssssssssss it ssssssssmashing?

so i DID get that sexy-dancer-provoked haircut like i said i would (wasn't brave enough to get a perm. was thinking maybe only sarah jessica parker can get away with a permed bob.) (is a bob still a bob if it's curly?) (this is another gay test, in case you were wondering.)

will not post pics of the new look here, partly because our camera is in the shop (or so i think) and partly because displaying my speckled face (hello acne season!) online will not help my ailing social life.

however, i need to document one of the stranger comments i received recently. this precious insight came from a female officemate:

"your hair's nice. you look like cleopatra."

(i have to admit that typing that made me laugh again.)

to that shocker, my reply was:

"i should probably buy a snake." (referring, of course, to the 1960s image of elizabeth taylor playing cleopatra. i didn't even know this image was in my mental library until that comment.)

my question is (and i usually have many): was that a real compliment? or a subtle way of saying "you shouldn't have gotten a haircut, you paranoid idiot"?

regardless of intention, that comment cheered me up. must write to santa about my need for specific reptilian accessory soon.

the plan

it has been 9 days since the last blog.

i figure the only solution is to hand in my resignation because, really, work is getting in the way of hardcore blogging. this can't be good for my mental health.

yesterday, because i was at the office earlier than usual, i tried to start an entry (oooh. today i did this, yesterday i did that . . . save me from thinking people are actually interested in the blow-by-blow account of my day!). i opened the blog window, stared at it while outlining the entry in my head, and proceeded to save the urls to link to (i take my blogging seriously).

and then i had to work.

and the entry never came to pass.

i can see it now. i'm going to be one of those people who think life is meaningless without a stable source of income, one who would prioritize work over their emotionally hungry children. or maybe one of those who wear gold shoes every day. still deciding.

i've had a few

been thinking about regrets.

they say you shouldn't have any, but my question is: when you say "they say", who are all these people? they say lightning doesn't strike in the same place twice, they say you shouldn't wear a black belt with brown shoes, they say if you love someone, then set them free . . . if they come back again, then in the end, it was meant to be . . . i thought we were lovers . . . i thought we were (you have just been subjected to a gay exam. if you are currently singing/humming the rest of the song in your head, then you are officially a gurl. you know barbra too much to be 100% male. if you are on your feet and belting your throat out while holding an imaginary microphone and tapping your fingers on it ala diva, please sit back down and continue reading because you are embarrassing me.)

(am i the only one irritated by singers afflicted with seemingly uncontrollable mike-tapping finger action?)

hmm. oh, regrets. ok.

my biggest regret at the moment is stress-eating too much in HK. because now it takes longer to pick out clothes in the morning and . . .

now i can't get streisand out of my head and it's my own blasted fault. can't anyone write a boring, self-absorbed blog entry anymore!?! papa, can you hear me?

advice to strangers: quit while you're ahead

scenario 1 -- on the plane back to manila (have i mentioned that i'm back home? newsflash: i need a better welcome-back line than "you gained weight!")

on the seats next to me, two filipinos (who apparently just met on the plane) struck up a riveting small-talk conversation about their lives. i thought, "wow, they're friendly (and extremely open: the middle-age woman was asking the yuppie male to give her daughter a job). it's nice when people open up to complete strangers that way. i hope they start talking about bank accounts and PIN codes."

the man (who was in the middle seat) then stood up to go to the toilet and, as i was in the aisle seat, i offered to get up to make room for him (he's . . . shall we say . . . expansive). he went ahead and squeezed through the small space between my knees and the seat in front of me, successfully suffocating my knee caps. (suffering suffocates, batman!) (i don't know why i said that.)

the woman (in the window seat), seeing that her new best friend was gone, stood up and whispered to me conspiratorially, "i better go to the toilet now. i don't want to have to go through him. that man is HUGE!!!"

so much for instant unbiased friendships.


scenario 2 -- waiting for a cab

after a considerable amount of time trying to hail a cab in makati, i saw one with a passenger ready to get down near where i was standing. unfortunately, the passenger got down in front of foreigners who were also waiting for a cab. i looked back longingly and the two female caucasians wave at me, "here, take this cab. we know you were here first."

so i thanked them profusely. and then they followed up with "we know you filipinos would've done otherwise, but we'll let you have this."

thank you for the cab, for insulting my race and for making me feel more grateful that i'm back where i'm supposed to be.