Alo. Thanks WP for compiling this list of useless bloggy shit for me. Much appreciated. 
2011 was a good year.
Here’s an excerpt:
A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,300 times in 2011. If it were a cable car, it would take about 38 trips to carry that many people.
I haven’t posted anything entirely personal lately–what with the fictional/non-fictional Flashes and everything–so I thought it only reasonable to have one after the many blue moons that’ve passed.
My family and I have this vacation home in Tagaytay and it’s a wormhole for quaint little places like Sonya’s Garden. The last time I’d been there, I was still a teenager. It was so small and unknown that the owner had the time to give us a tour of the whole place. Back then, you could go around the entire area within 30 minutes. Now, it’s a huge-ass place made for special events, more specifically, weddings. ANYWAY, not the point.
They’ve got a really good “buffet/set meal” for visitors. It’s vegetarian. For the most part, the ingredients come straight from her garden (okay. Now, I’m not too sure. Since the place’s expansion, I can’t see how they never run out) and are served in parts: salad, bread, pasta, dessert. Once you start a course, you can ask for as many refills of dips and add-ons as you wish. However, once you’re done with a said course, there’s no going back. Mum had a ball with the salad so it took an hour before we could move on to the pasta. By that time, we were stuffed.
It’s carbo-loading heaven, really.
Other than the fo0d-coma worthy servings, the place isn’t too bad either. My pictures don’t do it justice (maybe because I really just took pictures of the food. Looked so damn good). There’s a bakery, different dining areas, a spa, and a bed and breakfast now. Also, there’s a stall outside that sells pre-owned designer bags. My heart went: “WHAT THE HELL?”
Drool now.
Posted in breaktime, chilled, familia, god-matters, haphaphappy, health, holiday, interesante, lurve, thankful, yummer nomnoms
She calls him Summer because his seasons intermingle with hers.
The events of that Saturday passed by quickly. Nothing remarkable other than the way the sunlight pushed its way through the car’s tinted windows. It was a battered thing. A medium sized machine of faded green. Its radio had stopped working years back. The glass was cloudy with age.
She was leaning on the dashboard, caressing its plastic panelling and playing with the filtered sunlight that frolicked on her fingers. The rays danced on her skin to the tune of the road and the wheels meeting. This was the only sound that accompanied them on their travels.
“I love this car. It’s old and new and everything in between.”
The corners of his lips curled up in agreement.
The sky’s yellows danced on his black hair, turning it golden. Backlit, his profile was emphasized. The window frame held him in a portrait, much like cameos of days gone past. You could see the late afternoon’s colors split into rainbows in his eyes. His glasses only magnified them.
She steered her eyes away from the silhouette in the driver’s seat and looked to their yet undetermined destination. I think it was Home. He started to sing.
“Ooh la la…”
That was how Summer ended and Autumn began. Syllables harmonizing with the ordinary sound of rubber hitting asphalt. A faded green car crushing the dried leaves that had begun to fall. The sun clinging to the last few hours of day.
Posted in art, breaktime, encouragement, haphaphappy, interesante, lit, lurve, remember, right-brain/left-hand, summertime, thankful
He calls her Autumn because her seasons intermingle with his.
She was PMS-ing that day. Her aura flashed bright reds and oranges into the air, exploded along with the rants she had collected. Her sister was this. Her work was that. She hadn’t written anything in days. Had even forgotten how to draw faeries–those with flimsy wings that resembled leaves with fragile veins. Almost transparent when held up to the sun. She loved drawing those. However, it was firmly planted in her head that she had forgotten how.
Her words fell onto the ground and crumbled. Wisps of anger whose shadows immediately disappeared upon landing.
He watched them descend. Each rant fell in crescents, outlining the smile that plastered itself on his face. She was incensed and it amused him to watch her in this light. So fiery and out of herself. As if the flourescent bulbs emanated shades rather than brightness around her anger.
He took her into his arms in a swoop. She became still. The cold and dry wind from his lips lingered around her ear; lulling–shushing–her anger to sleep.
That was how Autumn ended and Winter began. With the clash of temperatures on her shoulder and the whish of comfort on the nape of her neck.
Posted in art, breaktime, encouragement, haphaphappy, interesante, lit, lurve, remember, right-brain/left-hand, thankful
She scours the crowd; forward moving cattle passing through the mall entrance. It’s hot outside and, despite the volume of people’s warmth causing friction, she is cooled. To her right is a bakery. Puff pastries, heavy breads, and chocolate eclairs are lined-up in single file behind the glass panelling. To her left is a donut shop. The delectable O’s are being dealt like cards to customers. The sugar glaze drips from the donuts’ golden surfaces. Glaciers atop a still and yellow sea.
The smells dance with each other under the incandescent lights and make their way up her nostrils. The sight of pastries was meaningless enough. However, the scent–the sweet sweet smells of baking bread and piped frosting, became much more important. Infused with meaning. Who would’ve thought that a mixture of eggs, flour and sugar would be capable of holding memories?
It never did get old.
She texted him of her whereabouts while on the road–on the way to their safehaven, tucked publicly between the bakery and the donut shop. He’d always respond. Tell her that he’d be waiting, unmoved on the same spot every single day. She’d arrive and find him standing to the side of the hall. She assumed that he hummed the minutes of anticipation away. Or that he tapped his feet to silence. Or that he counted commuters like insomniacs counted sheep. Sometimes, she thought of him drowning in the sweet smells (as if nostrils had taste buds). His eyes would be closed and a smile would slowly form on his lips. “Delicious,” he’d think.
They say that smells are powerful in that they can bring back the most hidden of memories. Every day grew into a memory.
She finds him in between the bakery and the donut shop and lets him take her into his arms. They kiss short kisses. He pulls back and stares at her. Smiles.
Serendipitously, he asks, “Donuts?”
Posted in art, breaktime, encouragement, haphaphappy, interesante, lit, lurve, remember, right-brain/left-hand, thankful
That feeling you get when you know you’re doing something you love again.
A friend asked me to illustrate her book for her. The result:
It isn’t perfect or anything but I’m sure that the images and the way the colors flowed into each other had been in my brain for over 2 weeks now. You know. You just know when things end up the way you imagined them. It feels so good to be drawing/illustrating again–to have purpose for a doodle.
Posted in art, encouragement, god-matters, haphaphappy, holiday, kaibigan, lit, miss-er-able, remember, right-brain/left-hand, school, thankful
He had been talking for some three minutes now; explaining the ins and outs–the beauty–of what they had. The simple attempt to dumb down the complexity of what began almost two months ago was proving futile.
The words blended with the darkness of the room, the rustle of the leaves as they hit his window’s jalousies, and the slivers of dim light that passing cars flashed onto the ceiling.
Her eyes adjusted. Squinting, she followed the blurry outline of his lips as they mouthed words like “different,” “happy,” and “special.”
She had been listening all this time, thinking of words that would compare to the cliches that had proven so true in their time together. Alas, none would suffice.
She hoped that he could see the smile forming on her chapped lips as well.
“I don’t see why you should be scared. I’m not other people.”
A Doctor Who reference rose from her throat and, before she could stop herself from destroying the perfect moment in the night, escaped in lightly delivered breath.
“You aren’t other people. You’re an Ood.” Oh no. Stop it. “A very cute Ood at that.”
She pinched his cheek playfully. Prepared to simply plop down on the mattress and let him bathe in the scene that she had so playfully wrecked with a pop culture reference. Stared up at the dancing lights on the ceiling.
His teeth gleamed in the dark.
Surely, that had been a smile. One that she reflected back into the night as his face moved closer.
(Please excuse the Doctor Who reference. Fascinations are beginning to come out in my snippets. Haha).
Posted in art, breaktime, chilled, encouragement, hahaha, haphaphappy, interesante, lit, lurve, remember, right-brain/left-hand, thankful
