Bukaka Queen
Believe me, the dog ain't playing dead. It just so happened that old habits never die because when she was just a puppy, we would force her to lie on her back so that we could scratch her tummy until it bores us to death.
Now that she's grown older, the bitch still believes that the best way to catch our attention is to lie on her back, spread her legs and expose her underbelly hoping it would be rubbed again by her amused masters.
Her eagerness to lie in this position would sometimes worry us. You know why? Because there were times, the dog would just follow us up to the main street, then when we start apprehending her for following us, she would lie on her back at the middle of the road. Occasionally, we would carry her back to the house, or, if mood won't permit such patience, we would simply drag her at the side of the road by pulling her legs along the route.
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The Natives' Rice
"(conyo voice) Ewww ano yan yaya?" Was my first reaction the moment the househelp opened the rice cooker's cover to scoop some rice for my plate.
"Yan yun native na sinasabi ng mama mo sa iyo. Mahal yan kala mo ba... pang (Southbit err..) beach diet pa nga yan eh." as she explains to me, while putting scary amounts of rice on my plate.
Good thing, such variety isn't new to me at all. Back during the early days of my food writing class, we've discussed some rice varieties and the surrounding folklore and history behind them. This variety is called "Black Rice." It smells like a freshly harvested palay with a nutty, crunchy aftertaste. Since it was my first time to actually see and eat such rice in my whole life, my natural course of action was to have a certain degree of reservation in eating it. Thoughts such as "What if the rice would trigger a rebellion in my tummy?" or "What if this is really the rice of the encantos, would I be cursed forever and live in forlorn for eating it?"
Indeed, the variety is good for diet because for the first time in several months, I significantly lessened my rice consumption. Unfortunately, the black rice is only good for dinner (or probably until breakfast.) Konti lang daw siya so by tomorrow, we're back to the regular, NFA rice again.
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P-Man's Remembrance
Here's a good example of how deep, focused thinking could break things apart.
During the great "hang-over" of P-Man, I've spent around five days thinking about the consequences of our mutual action. One time, this sudden surge of deep thought hit me while I was brushing my teeth before going to school.
As I sorted things out in my mind - separating the possibilities from the delusions, the toothbrush handle suddenly snapped in half. Maybe, as I was approaching the peak of my thought-trance, my grip became so forceful that it broke the object I am holding.
I could have replaced the toothbrush immediately. But knowing how stingy I am when it comes to personal hygiene, I'm sure that it would take several more months before this toothbrush could be replaced. Since we're talking about remembrance, I'd probably keep this thing as a souvenir. Hopefully this memento would always remind me that once upon a time, P-man was my firewall.
Believe me, the dog ain't playing dead. It just so happened that old habits never die because when she was just a puppy, we would force her to lie on her back so that we could scratch her tummy until it bores us to death.
Now that she's grown older, the bitch still believes that the best way to catch our attention is to lie on her back, spread her legs and expose her underbelly hoping it would be rubbed again by her amused masters.
Her eagerness to lie in this position would sometimes worry us. You know why? Because there were times, the dog would just follow us up to the main street, then when we start apprehending her for following us, she would lie on her back at the middle of the road. Occasionally, we would carry her back to the house, or, if mood won't permit such patience, we would simply drag her at the side of the road by pulling her legs along the route.
---
The Natives' Rice
"(conyo voice) Ewww ano yan yaya?" Was my first reaction the moment the househelp opened the rice cooker's cover to scoop some rice for my plate."Yan yun native na sinasabi ng mama mo sa iyo. Mahal yan kala mo ba... pang (Southbit err..) beach diet pa nga yan eh." as she explains to me, while putting scary amounts of rice on my plate.
Good thing, such variety isn't new to me at all. Back during the early days of my food writing class, we've discussed some rice varieties and the surrounding folklore and history behind them. This variety is called "Black Rice." It smells like a freshly harvested palay with a nutty, crunchy aftertaste. Since it was my first time to actually see and eat such rice in my whole life, my natural course of action was to have a certain degree of reservation in eating it. Thoughts such as "What if the rice would trigger a rebellion in my tummy?" or "What if this is really the rice of the encantos, would I be cursed forever and live in forlorn for eating it?"
Indeed, the variety is good for diet because for the first time in several months, I significantly lessened my rice consumption. Unfortunately, the black rice is only good for dinner (or probably until breakfast.) Konti lang daw siya so by tomorrow, we're back to the regular, NFA rice again.
---
P-Man's Remembrance
Here's a good example of how deep, focused thinking could break things apart.
During the great "hang-over" of P-Man, I've spent around five days thinking about the consequences of our mutual action. One time, this sudden surge of deep thought hit me while I was brushing my teeth before going to school.
As I sorted things out in my mind - separating the possibilities from the delusions, the toothbrush handle suddenly snapped in half. Maybe, as I was approaching the peak of my thought-trance, my grip became so forceful that it broke the object I am holding.
I could have replaced the toothbrush immediately. But knowing how stingy I am when it comes to personal hygiene, I'm sure that it would take several more months before this toothbrush could be replaced. Since we're talking about remembrance, I'd probably keep this thing as a souvenir. Hopefully this memento would always remind me that once upon a time, P-man was my firewall.
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