penny lane fantasies

Finally, a gigantic highway billboard I wouldn't mind seeing over and over again.

Kate Hudson is now the poster girl—billboard girl, if you will—of Kamiseta. I first saw her when I was a kid on a mag a cousin brought from London. It ran a story on her mum, Goldie Hawn, and Kate had a pic with her and stepdad Kurt Russell. She's not yet Kate Hudson then. Heck, she might not even have hit puberty then.

I started adoring Kate Hudson since I saw her on "Almost Famous" in college. She's the ultimate boho-luxe girl, the hippie chic, the Penny Lane. She is the groupie. And she even married a rockstar!

I love her smile the most, the blonde curls, the body (not booby but still sexy), the aura, the porma. Everything. Sabi ko nga kay L pagkakita namin ng billboard, magpapa-blonde ako. Sabi nya pakalbo na lang daw ako.

A very reliable source, a local fashion player, said that the groupie diva was paid the dollar equilavent of around P5-P10 million to endorse the clothing line which already hit the US, Indonesia, Malaysia and Dubai. Not bad. Baka nga ganon na ang running rate ni Kris Aquino. Maybe Kate has special rates for poor third-world countries. Besides, Kamiseta already had Alicia Silverstone and Natalie Portman hawking their wares.

But I don't mind if Kate won't even dress up in Kamiseta. I don't shop there unless items are on reasonable sale prices (kase minsan sale na, mahal pa rin, ke panget naman). The clothes are too preppy for me, and everyone's wearing them. The good thing about that boutique, though, is they have sizes from XXXS to XXXL, winner sila sa part na yon.

Naalala ko tuloy, I have this "Penny Lane top" stuck in my closet. I got it around three years ago in a surplus shop. It was sent by the fashion gods 'cause it's the nearest thing to what she wore on "Almost Famous" and I found it in SM of all places!

It's an Indian-made, off-white peasant blouse with string-gathered neckline, with hand-embroidered floral details and stretchy scrunching at the waist. That was my "date shirt," yung tipong feeling maganda ka na agad 'pag suot mo.

Kaso di na sha kasya sa 'kin. How sad.

It's a classic. You could wear it puff-sleeved, off-the-shoulder, or mid-riff to show your belly (god-willing that you have a nice one); pair it with a simple gypsy skirt, tight jeans, bell-bottoms, capris, gauchos, anything! 'Wag lang i-internalize mashado ang pagka-bohemian, out na ang manghuhula look. Please, no more boho overkill, the key word now is modern-hippie.

Apparently the shirt is too small for me now. I showed it to L and he guffawed when I told him I actually fit in that shirt three years ago. I swear, that will be the first item of clothing I'd wear once I lose 30 lbs. And a BLOOD-RED TWO-PIECE BIKINI, parang ung sa commercial ng White Castle na may babaeng nakasakay sa kabayo at tumatalbog ang boobs.

(3 ways to wear my "penny lane shirt," sorry i don't have an actual photo)

I have a thing for shoulder-baring tops. You don't have to be a waif to pull off the look. You could wear 'em even if you have big arms unlike sleeveless or tube tops. It's sexy by default.

Nice, good shoulders in both males and females turn me on. I love broad, wide shoulders in guys, and I hate 'em slouchy. 'Pag maganda shoulders, masarap mag-lean, mang-hug at masarap din i-lick.

Off-shoulder blouses are romantic and sweet. (Pero actually, naisip ko lang yun ng high school ako at di pa ko kikay non, kase gandang-ganda yung isang kuya-pinsan ko kay Donna Cruz na kumakanta ng "Rain" sa "Eat Bulaga." And she was wearing a peach peasant top then.)

Another shirt I'd be wearing forever is a cyan "Princess Kitty" top na panget na raw sabi ng nanay ko pero sinusuot ko pa rin at malamang isuot ko till it's in tatters. It could be puff-sleeved or off-the-shoulders, too. And it's the shirt I wore on my first date with L, when I met someone very special from the past, when I met MiG Ayesa, when I "road-seated" a top-of-the-line Benz, when I attended my first lesbian party, and it's my most photographed-in shirt to date.

Pero goddess talaga si Kate Hudson. Her movies are not as fascinating as her charming appeal, but still, aydol ko yun. Maangas na sweet, parang ako, hehe. At saka kase gusto kong maging groupie when I grow up, charing.

Anyway, I'm supposed to be incredibly busy now but I need a breather, like blogging!

I just got done with work but have to finish transcribing an hour-long interview with Rick Warren, author of "The Purpose Driven Life"—one of the books I would never read—or I'd be forced to ditch my day-off to finish encoding; research for an Urbandub interview tomorrow; blog about L' s birthday and a thousand other things; thank everyone who participated in L's Grand Bithday Project; find a way out of the office at 3 a.m. since it's raining hard and it's flooded outside, and the service already left; and how to lose 30 lbs overnight so I could wear my "Penny Lane shirt" tomorrow. Now if I could find those cowboy boots and tartan miniskirt...

it's my bf's birthday and i need your help

It's L's birthday on Sunday, July 23, and he'll have a small party in their place in Rizal on Saturday. As my sworn duty as a stagegirlfriend, I took a leave off work to help him in this event.

First off, I'll be meeting his parents for the first time. We're five months together pero ngayon lang. Baket kamo? Kase during the first attempt, di pa kame non, inatake ng high-blood ung mum nya. At WALA akong kinalaman dun ha, nagkataon lang talaga. Nung second attempt, kami na, yung dad naman nya nagka-problem sa office so na-cancel na naman. Wish ko di naman magkadelubyo ngayon or something, baka mag-overnight pa naman ako dun.

Second, he haven't celebrated his birthday with a party for a long time so medyo na-excite yung mga friends nya. At medyo friends lang naman nya from high school to office itong pinag-uusapan natin, including his bosses at yung mga niligawan nya dati. So dapat maganda 'ko.

Kinakabog ako. The pressing problem now is: tangina, anong isusuot ko? Ang taba ko pa naman ngayon.

Anyway, since it's his birthday, I have a plea. I have a vague idea of the number of people visiting this blog, and although some are just Googling "Pia Guanio nudes" or "kwentong libog," I'd like to think people actually read me.

So here, please help me give L a great birthday by leaving a happy-birthday message in my comment box. ANY kind of message (a short and sweet "happy birthday" will do, a long emo one is welcome, too), in ANY language or dialect of your choice can be posted from today. (Tumatanggap din ng cash, GC at de lata, wag lang labada.)

This Kitten is shamelessly soliciting greetings from you, my beloved readers, for my baby, and this exercise is a part of my Grand Birthday Project for him.

In order to bully convice you to cooperate with me, let me present you the Top 10 reasons why I love L:

love ko si bi dahil:

10.  Tinatanggalan nya ko ng muta using his bare hand maski kumakain sha ng fries.

9. Pinagtatali nya ko ng sneakers kase lumalabas yung boobs ko pag yumuyuko ako, pati panty kung medyo naka-miniskirt pa ko. Actually inaayos nya yung damit ko pag medyo lumalabas yung mga taba-taba ko.

8.  My full name is listed under his, ehem, "hobbies and interests" on his Friendster account.

7.  Hinabol nya ko from Max Brenner sa Greenbelt 3 hanggang sa Mcdo sa Greenbelt 1 minsang nag-walkout ako kase kailangan na nyang umuwi pero gusto ko pang rumampa—just because my hair was salon-straight then.

Ganito kase, kakapagupit ko lang non sa H Salon sa Rustan's at narealize kong matagal na kong di nambo-blow, este, nabo-blowdry, so I had it dried straight instead of the usual mousse-scrunched curls. Na-excite ako, sabi nga ni Ricky Reyes: "Ang kintaaaab!"

That was the same day I bought the P1,250 eyelash curler kase pagbaba ko from H, gandang-ganda ko sa sarili ko at bigla kong nakita ko ung stall ng Shu Uemura, sa sobrang saya ko, naglabas ako ng ATM card.

Feeling ko talaga non, ako si Jessica Alba (NOT Zafra) in my mid-calf black suede boots worn over tight jeans, and my Ate-Shawie one-shoulder, assymetric baby-pink top.

Dapat kase my date kame non ni Tricia, but she backed out the last minute and L can only stay until a certain time because he had a previous commitment which he took 'cause I had a date nga. So I didn't talk to him over the entire dinner and threw a tantrum when he said he had to go home as planned ("Umuwi ka na sa inyo! Kaya kong umuwi mag-isa!"), twisted my suede heel and walked the stretch till McDo kase walang cab sa tapat ng Max Brenner.

I never knew he was behind me all along. *Play Foo Fighter's "Walking After You" here*

I hailed a cab and before boarding, I told him we should cool it off for a while. I slammed the door, turned my cellphone off and unhooked my landline till the next morning so he can't reach me.

Oo na, demonyo na ko. Nag-sorry din naman ako after a few days.

6. Yun na nga, he agreed that I take an indefinite leave from him aka cool-off (this term is so '90s, wala pa bang bago nito?) last month WITHOUT knowing the main reason why.

I just told him I need to get something fixed. He asked if the space would help me, and when I said yes, he asked no more and obliged. He now knows the reason—because I was still pained from a previous lover (naks, lover) and marked myself unfit for a new relationship—and accepted it like the true gentleman that he is. So ngayon, keri na ako, at happy na kame.

That, and he hates brats and smokers but still had me.

5. He lugs me around and introduces me to his friends like a trophy girlfriend: "This is Andrea, girlfriend ko."

4. Eto pa, namutla sha ng minsang nakausap nya ung mum ko. Kase nung sumundo sha sa bahay last week, inabutan nya yung nanay kong medyo nakainom. Tipsy ba.

Nakangising bungad ng Mamá: "Oh, eto na pala yung pogi. Ingatan mo yang anak ko ha. Nag-iisa yan, wala akong ipapalit dyan."

My darling mother has all the point in the world, you know. Sabi ko nga pasalamat sha at wala na kong tatay at wala rin akong kapatid.

3. He used to wait for me to get home from work so we could talk over the phone—even if I stay up as late as 1 a.m. and he used to work as early as 6:30 a.m. Our schedules are so skewed that one starts working from where the other one takes off, and we had to make extra effort just to be able to talk.

We agreed to ditch this puyatan routine when both of us were issued tardiness memos from our respective offices. "Finding Memo," ika nga.

Trivia: our longest phone chat lasted for 12 hours, interrupted only with pee and dinner breaks, "friends" pa lang kame non.

2. He knows I averaged two flings a month last year (kung pano ko nagawa to at kung sinu-sino sila, wag nyo ng itanong. Payat pa ko non.) so bale mga naka-24 ako non pero 10 lang talaga yung counted kasama sha. Fling lang si L non kase di naman nya ko sineryoso ng una.

1. Because his tears fell when I slipped a ring on his finger last Feb. 10 and told him he's officially my first boyfriend and he could call me his girl from that day onwards.

So there, I hope these reasons are enough for you to participate in my make-my-baby-happy Grand Birthday Project. Here's what you have to do: leave a birthday message (just say something!) and leave your name (may use alias); url, if any, on the provided space; and relation to us (college friend, blogfriend, stalker,  masahista, officemate, office bitch)  after the beep.

Example:
[message:] Happy birthday, LLoyd. Have a great one!
[url:] http://exgroupie.motime.com
[name and relation to us:] Molly, Andrea's 15-year-old teddy bear

Easy isn't it? I'm gunning for at least 20 greetings before, during and after his birthdate, and if I go beyond that quota I'll be happier than a kitten in a bed of fresh pink salmon.

By the way, his name is Lloyd. So do me a favor and greet Lloyd a happy birthday. Thanks for your cooperation, guys. Now spread the lurvvv, people.

pin cushion princess

Life isn't easy
for the Pin Cushion Queen.
When she sits alone on her throne
Pins push through her spleen.
—Tim Burton

Consider this a confession: I keep on smoking to remind myself that I am still breathing.

And lately I've been smoking a stick after another to keep my breathing in a steady rhythm. Now I'm afraid to quit because it will make airflow more difficult than it is, because if I stop smoking, I might stop breathing altogether.

I can't sleep till it's 4 a.m for a couple of weeks now. Lately it's worse, I sleep around 5 or 6 a.m. By that time, cheap breakfast fares like thick hot sopas and sweet ketsup-ghetti is already available in the talipapa. So I've resorted to the next best thing: drinking alcohol and/or popping anti-allergy pills to put myself to sleep. 

Over-the-counter antihistamines are godsend. They switch my brain and my tear glands off, and bring me to la-la-land faster than half a bottle of red wine.

These things usually happen when you take your thoughts to bed. Bad thoughts, sad thoughts, happy thoughts. Frankly, I'd trade my brain for Paris Hilton's. Or Ethel Booba's.

I can't breathe well for the past seven months as well. Something inside my chest balls up into a cute little pincushion, and bad/sad/happy thoughts poke it like pins with candy-colored heads. And I'm not just being figurative here, sweetheart, this is also physical ache I'm whining about.

See the pin-studded heart-clock on the left? That's the Pin Cushion Queen's heart, one of Tim Burton's Tragic Toys. Maybe she's gasping for air, too.

Now I crown myself as the pained royalty: the Pin Cushion Princess.

My last X-ray and previous tests were ok, though, so, basically, I should be ok. But what's with the loss of sleep and loss of breath? Maybe I'm dying. Maybe I have an exotic secret disease. Maybe this is coffee OD.

Or maybe this is what they call heartache.

(The cheshire soundtrack: For your full reading pleasure, this entry is best read while listening to "Walang Hanggang Paalam," a kundiman by ethno-rocker Joey Ayala.)

 ***

"Kiss," by Roel Obemio

of rainclouds and tricksters

"Roel Obemio’s “The Circus of Life” exhibit at Le Soufflé at the Rockwell Club in Makati, narrates a story we all know too well—a story of lost innocence and perhaps the possibility for its recovery."—Gary C. De Villes, Philippine Daily Inquirer, June 12, 2006

Windy days are wonderful and rain is for the romantic. Nothing beats snuggling up with someone in the bed the whole day while still on your PJs, with a stack of DVDs, a big bag of munchies, and a bottle of cheap red wine to set the deal.

"Bed weather," someone said.

These past days, it’s either windy, drizzly or downright stormy in this side of the Metro. The dampness of the city is very conducive to a lot of cuddling, stripping and lazing around, and not once was I tempted to ditch work over the fantasy of sleeping off the whole day.

But then I have to go work, like the rest of us urbanites in this third-world country.

I only have an average of 15-minute sun exposure during work days, that’s five times a week, when I commute from home to the office to make it to my 2-11 p.m. job. The rest of my 24-hours I spend under fluorescent lights and air-conditioning. The rest of my 24-hours I spend in the darkness of nighttime.

Somehow I missed my 15-minute sunlight and the weather brought me down. It was drizzling the whole morning while I was gearing up for work. I bathed, dressed up in jeans, hoodies and sneakers. Then I sprayed on vanilla perfume, my favorite scent with a very warm undertone that could only be used in temperatures like these. My skin smelled of slowly melting sugar in low fire, it smelled of ice cream and love-making.

I had a less-than-satisfying lunch of sautéed mackerel and rice, had my usual jeepney ride and short walk to the office—all those while simultaneously thinking. I pulled my jacket’s hood around my head for protection, from the rain, from my thoughts.

"Afterglow," by Roel Obemio

"It is not surprising…  that the Filipinos is known as a hopeless romantic—whether he is crooning a love song, kissing his wife before leaving for work, or even pretending and imagining that the world is like a fun merry-go-round. Romance is the very air the Filipinos breathes in."

I did the usual preliminary work, said my hellos to my officemates, and had coffee/smoke break in the non-aircon pantry on the third floor.

I looked outside the window: dark clouds were framing the Makati skyline and there was mist in the air. You could smell the rain and the slippery roads from up there. Beads of raindrops hit the windows making them translucent, and the coldness of the whole room and the wet street outside bit me.

I started missing a lot of things. I missed my parents, my friends, my boyfriend, college, my cat, my waistline. I missed God, gigs, breakfasts, my music, my books.

I missed myself before I knew love.

Work came and with it the drizzle stopped. Maybe the rain gods needed a break, too. Then came dinnertime and I thought I could use a break and have a whiff of air outside.

"Embrace," by Roel Obemio

"Obemio may indeed be the trickster behind this one-man show, telling us about social responsibility without being preachy, laughing with us without being ridiculous, and secretly fighting with us in the struggle that is the circus of our life. He helps us narrate our stories, too."

I walked a couple of blocks to the nearest fastfood. It was a clear windy night and the sad cold breeze touched my cheeks. The golden lights from the streetlamps shone as bright as those times when I used to have summer dinners. It was an eerie kind of wonderful. I was fleeting, floating even, with memories that should remain as such—memories.

And you know what, I looked at the sky and it was a full moon.

That moment there was nothing else to do but weep over a lost love, a lost innocence, right smack in the middle of the damp sidewalk. Fat, hot tears fell and I didn't even bother to wipe them, maybe I could get healed with every drop.

Love, like the moon, is a trickster. It’s mysterious, dark and probing. It washes you with temporary radiance, and you’ll glow in its brightness—all dazzling and luminescent—but the moment you wake up, it’s gone, and you're left with no more but an afterglow of the moonwash.

mga kwentong insekto

kwentong ipis at gagamba: 

So anong chika mo? Ako, ayun, nakagat lang naman ako ng gagamba nung Lunes.

Ang weird kase nung Sunday, naglinis ako ng room. And by linis, I mean nag-Lysol ako ng cabinet, sahig at pader. Pati yung bedframe. Binaligtad ko pa yung matress kong pink. Nagpalit ng mga punda at bedsheet.

Tapos nag-spray ako ng insecticide sa buong room pati sa loob ng cabinets at shelves. Kase ba naman one time, nakita kong ipis-infested ung isang lacy skirt ko. Baka natuluan ng kung ano.

Isusuot ko yun dapat pero paghatak ko from the cabinet, naglabasan yung mga ipis! Tapos ang daming ipis eggs na nakadikit sa lace. Medyo na-tense lang naman ako kase medyo iniipis yung palda ko kaya super scrub ako ng room.

So pagkatapos, amoy ospital ng yung kuwarto ko. Nag-light up ako ng insence, tapos amoy spa na sha. Swabe na.

Nung gabi, matutulog na ko, may nakita akong gagamba sa wall pagpatay ko ng ilaw. Gagambang-bahay lang naman pero kasing-laki sha ng kamay ko, mehn.

Hinabol ko ng Baygon pero 'di ko inabutan. So natulog na ko.

Akalain mong nagising ako ng alas-singko ng umaga tapos yung gagamba, nakakagat sa hita ko! Sobrang nag-freak out ako. I was screaming and scrambling like mad, parang bulateng nilagyan ng asin.

Pagbukas ko ng ilaw, nandun sha sa kama, patay na. Nadaganan ko yata.

Hello sha! Mabigat pa kaya ako kay Pacquaio.

Akala ko nga scorpion, eh. Punta ko sa room ng pinsan ko para ipa-check kaso tulog pa sila, tapos wala naman yung mum ko non.

Pero nakakakilabot, dude. Ang laki nya! And the bite stings. Tapos yung mga legs nya may mga spike-spike, tapos may white na bilog pa sha sa tiyan. Buntis pa ata. Kadiri talaga. Inisprayan ko pa uli ng Baygon to make sure na tsugi na.

Scary lang kase Thursday na ngayon tapos nangangati pa rin yung kagat nya sa right leg ko. Natakot lang akong baka may rabies (?) yun.

Natatakot na rin akong maging Spider -man Gagam-girl Spider-girl.

kwentong gagamba, part 2: 

Sunday dinner over my cousin Maw's place. She just watched "Superman Returns" with her 12-year-old son Weiland. And I just watched it with L, too. We had rich kare-kare, steamed prawns, and lots of "Superman" talk for dinner. So habang pinagbabalat ako ni L ng sugpo, ina-analyze namin ni Wei yung movie:

Wei: Tita, bakit sha na-ospital?
Me: Oo nga eh, dapat bawal yun kase Superman sha.
Maw: Ang funny nga kase na-bend yung karayom.
L: *Nagbabalat lang ng sugpo*
Me: Eh meron ding ganong episode sa "Smallville." Yung accident sa train tapos nanghina sha kase sinave nya yung mga tao. Tapos pagtanggal ng mask, nakita nilang si Superman sha. Tapos naawa sila kase "he's just a kid" so wala silang pinagsabihan.
Wei: Tita, wala namang mask si Superman 'di ba?
Maw: Parang sa "Spider-man" yun ah.
L: Bi, "Spider-man" yun, hindi "Smallville."
Wei: Tsaka pano nya tatanggalin yung mask eh mukha na nya yun?

I am watching too much Paris Hilton.

kwentong lamok, sort of: 

My beloved nephew Weiland,  the only kid in this world that I like who is now as tall as I am (na para namang ang tangkad ko, gee) was rushed to that hospital at 2 a.m. yesterday due to very high fever, chills and rashes. We feared dengue mosquitos got him.

Since his mum's pregnant and can't attend to him, my mum, the stagelola, came over their place and took him to the emergency room with his stepdad.

I, the stagetita, just got home from work and stayed at home waiting for results. If he would be confined, I have to assist because he won't be comfy around the stepdad, the helper has to stay with my cousin, and my mum can't take hospital stuff.

I was actually more worried about my mum because she easily gets sick with blood and all things hospital.

No, not sick. Horrified. The only time I got confined was in second grade because of typhoid fever yata. The nurse took blood sample from my finger with a BIG needed and put it in a BIG vial and thud, my mum collapsed. The pedia and the nurses were joking that I should take care of my mum instead.

Ako ung 8-year-old kid na kinunan ng dugo pero sha yung natumba.

By 5 a.m., I got a message that Wei's X-ray and blood test results were clear and they're home safe. Viral thingie daw yung cause ng fever. Trangkaso in short. Ok na sha today, makakapag-wrestling na ulit kame sa Linggo.

These stories all happened in three days. Exciting ang buhay ko. Wish ko lang wala ng kamag-anak yung gagambang gumanti sa 'kin.

the bimbo kitten project

Ain't this photo hot?

Heiress Paris Hilton's reaction to a 2005 report that former BFF (Best Friend Forever) Nicole Richie hacked her cell phone:

"That is so not hot. I can’t believe her. I’m am totally going to hack something of hers, like her dog or something."

She's beautiful---not pretty or cute, but beautiful---and God had been fair by making her dumb. As Paris said: "If you have a beautiful face you don't need big fake boobs to get anyone's attention."

By now, you have probably seen her sex scandal/s, (that's one lucky ugly guy) but I bet you'd still want to see her naked in this photo which "More than 7 millions clicked... In other words, it is three times the number of faithful Christian pilgrims who visited the Holy Land in 2004 and 2005."

She's responsbible for my bimbo fantasies, and I'm now on third season of "The Simple Life." Here are some quotes:

On Season 1: Over dinner at the farm.
Nicole: "Could you believe that people actually hangout at Wal-mart?"
Paris: "What's Wal-mart? Is that a place where the make walls?"

Ineng, even us from the Third World knows what Wal-mart is.

On Season 2: The Biatches as interns in a car shop.
Mechanic: "First, you have to check the engine.
Paris: *looks at the engine* Which one's the engine?

She turned brunette in 2004 and that dye job merited a story on People Magazine. At least now we know that Paris Hilton could look bad.

The $350-million princess is hot alright---she's nice (has an affinity with animals, she ended up petting and kissing a stray hen which ended up in her trailer bed) and incredibly sweet, just dull.

Socialite Nicole is the witty, evil one. She's better than Paris because she actually thinks, that's why she could charm her way out of trouble. And oh, she has a thing for flashing her nipple piercing. I wonder what adoptive father Lionel Richie says about that.

And I wonder if these ex-BFFs ever fucked each other. Or had a threesome, at least.