They say that all dogs go to heaven. I hope Bulldog is there right now, praying for me and my family's safety. I hope he is there so I could call on someone to guide me in trying times. I hope....
But there are still some things that puzzle me about that saying. Silly questions, but they continuously bug me.
Do all dogs really go to heaven? How about dogs who have murdered kids? Dogs who bit people? Dogs who savagely kill other dogs?
If all dogs go to heaven, do all cats go to hell? It's like they forever fight, right? And good and evil do fight, right? So if heaven is good, and hell is bad, and all dogs go to heaven... then all cats must go to hell???
If, granted, cats go to heaven as well. And granted that all the animals go to heaven too. How then does heaven look like? Would it look very much like the earth? Does it have plants as well?
I really don't know when I will be able to find the answers to these mind bogglers of mine. One thing is for sure, if there is a heaven, I would sure like to spend eternity there -- with all dogs.
Friday, July 30, 2004
A Bulldog Story (Hours Before Death)
Tuesday. 9:30 p.m. I opened our housegate to let myself in. I was welcomed amidst loud barks by our two dogs, Whitey (who happens to be a beige mongrel-japanese spitz mix) and Bulldog (who happens to be a mongrel). Don't ask me how they got their names or who gave it to them. I named them other names, but it seems that our house help's monickers stuck to the dogs' brains. Hence, they wouldn't respond to other names but those.
10:15 p.m. My father arrived. My brother opened the gate to let my father in. I then heard him call me to go outside and see Bulldog. Apparently, he couldn't lift his lower body and all he could do was twist and turn using his front legs. He didn't meet an accident with a vehicle again, did he? Apparently not. And then he was urinating all around -- and boy, that's one heck of a urine load. It was like he excreted all of the fluids in his body. What were we to do? We don't know any vet that was open at that time of night. He was definitely dying. First time I see dog death before my very eyes.
Wednesday. 2:30 a.m. Our driver couldn't sleep because he was hearing strange things in the garage. When he went out to see what it was, it was Bulldog, banging his head on our van. Apparently, he was able to find a way to get fro one place to another using his front legs. For some strange reason, I really don't know why. Insanity before death? Well, I didn't actually witness this. Just second hand information. But then again, what could have led to these events? Only God knows.
6:45 a.m. I saw Bulldog sprawled on the garage floor. This is not the same garage, mind you. It is separated by two flights of stairs and a wide veranda. It still baffles me how he could have travelled considering his situation. Anyway, he was not moving, his eyes were directed towards the heavens, and he was breathing heavily. He was definitely dying. Even seeing the vet would prove futile. So we just let him cherish his tragedy on his own sweet time.
5:00 p.m. I got news that Bulldog died. I felt sad, coz I was always the last one to arrive home. These two dogs would always welcome me with their barks and their wagging tails, jump and reach for my hand all the time. They were intelligent dogs who knew how to use the door's banger (those round things you use to knock -- or bang -- depending on how you actually use it). They were silly ones who would crawl on dry soil after a cold bath. They always growled at each other whenever I'm around them both, as if both were struggling for my attention. It just wouldn't be the same without one of them. I used to talk with Bulldog, scolding him every night for not following my instructions. I used to tell him what he should not do to prevent catching some dog diseases. But you really can't teach old dogs new tricks, it seems. Or human's can't really talk to dogs no matter how much they try to. He had a skin disorder he got from a neighbor's dog. And I got real mad at him for acquiring that. Now, I have no dog to talk to but Whitey. I guess Whitey will just do for the mean time. It just won't be the same without the both of them.
10:15 p.m. My father arrived. My brother opened the gate to let my father in. I then heard him call me to go outside and see Bulldog. Apparently, he couldn't lift his lower body and all he could do was twist and turn using his front legs. He didn't meet an accident with a vehicle again, did he? Apparently not. And then he was urinating all around -- and boy, that's one heck of a urine load. It was like he excreted all of the fluids in his body. What were we to do? We don't know any vet that was open at that time of night. He was definitely dying. First time I see dog death before my very eyes.
Wednesday. 2:30 a.m. Our driver couldn't sleep because he was hearing strange things in the garage. When he went out to see what it was, it was Bulldog, banging his head on our van. Apparently, he was able to find a way to get fro one place to another using his front legs. For some strange reason, I really don't know why. Insanity before death? Well, I didn't actually witness this. Just second hand information. But then again, what could have led to these events? Only God knows.
6:45 a.m. I saw Bulldog sprawled on the garage floor. This is not the same garage, mind you. It is separated by two flights of stairs and a wide veranda. It still baffles me how he could have travelled considering his situation. Anyway, he was not moving, his eyes were directed towards the heavens, and he was breathing heavily. He was definitely dying. Even seeing the vet would prove futile. So we just let him cherish his tragedy on his own sweet time.
5:00 p.m. I got news that Bulldog died. I felt sad, coz I was always the last one to arrive home. These two dogs would always welcome me with their barks and their wagging tails, jump and reach for my hand all the time. They were intelligent dogs who knew how to use the door's banger (those round things you use to knock -- or bang -- depending on how you actually use it). They were silly ones who would crawl on dry soil after a cold bath. They always growled at each other whenever I'm around them both, as if both were struggling for my attention. It just wouldn't be the same without one of them. I used to talk with Bulldog, scolding him every night for not following my instructions. I used to tell him what he should not do to prevent catching some dog diseases. But you really can't teach old dogs new tricks, it seems. Or human's can't really talk to dogs no matter how much they try to. He had a skin disorder he got from a neighbor's dog. And I got real mad at him for acquiring that. Now, I have no dog to talk to but Whitey. I guess Whitey will just do for the mean time. It just won't be the same without the both of them.
Bulldog
2002-2004
Loving pet, mischievous dog, extraordinary member of our family.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
Ironic
An old man turned 98
He won the lottery
And died the next day
It's a black fly
In your chardonay
It's a death row pardon
Two minutes too late
Isn't it ironic?
Well, that is Alanis Morisette for all of you. Life is just so ironic. For the past few weeks, it's been raining like hell here in the city where I work. Day in, I arrive the office with the sun shining brightly. Come afternoons, I leave the office prepared to be drenched in cool summer rain.
Because I leave the house sunny, I dare not bring a jacket or a raincoat or an umbrella. It is just too bulky. Besides, who would ever think it would rain with that kind of bright weather?
But I've learned my lesson well. I dare not sing in the rain once again. Every night, when I get home, I always feel sick to the bone. I have morning sneezing episodes because of this. But today, it's different. I swore I would bring something even if the sun shines very brightly. I believed that no matter how sunny it is in the mornings, the afternoons normally bring in strong rains. Hence, I have with me an umbrella and a jacket.
Now here's the irony. It's about time to go home. With my umbrella and jacket in tow, I can't see a cloud in sight! The sun is shining as brightly as ever. And to think this is the only day I brought my protections along.
Of all the days God chose not to rain, he chose this day. This particular day when I am most prepared. Why?
Because life will forever be an irony.
Creepy Crawlers; Freaky Tuesdays
What a way to start the day.
I woke up relatively early to go to work.
I was in the shower, rinsing shampoo off my hair when I felt a numbing sensation on my left foot. It's the kind of sensation you feel when your leg has been inactive for so long. You feel as if ants were crawling on your leg. Yup, this had the same sensation.
So I shrugged it off, until I felt the sensation move. What could that possibly be? I couldn't see it as my entire face was covered by shampoo suds.
Feeling the tingling sensation move across the circumference of my lower leg forced me to give off a jerking action (not that jerking action, perv!).
After immediately wiping off the shampoo from my face with a dry towel, I was amazed, aghast, taken aback, I'm running out of words here.... to see, to my horror of horrors.... a cockroach! (Cue in Psycho theme.)
I'm not scared of cockroaches, that I can assure you. I can even hold them with my bare hands (yeah, I can hear you cringe in disgust right now), that is, granted they are not moving anymore. I just don't like the feel of their legs on my skin. It's just so... icky!
I don't know what it was that gave the cockroach enough courage to share a shower with me. I must have some kind of oozing sex appeal that only four-legged creatures appreciate. Or she (I am assuming that the cockroach is female because she was with me in the shower) must be a reincarnation of someone I used to share a shower with in my past life (if I had one).
Good thing my instincts didn't tell me to step on her at first sight. I would have done so in my wide-awake state of mind. Otherwise, I would be scrubbing my feet a thousand times more today. And I would have a bathroom floor with Mentos (crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside) remnants to clean for the next few minutes or so.
Now isn't that some peculiar way to start the day?
I woke up relatively early to go to work.
I was in the shower, rinsing shampoo off my hair when I felt a numbing sensation on my left foot. It's the kind of sensation you feel when your leg has been inactive for so long. You feel as if ants were crawling on your leg. Yup, this had the same sensation.
So I shrugged it off, until I felt the sensation move. What could that possibly be? I couldn't see it as my entire face was covered by shampoo suds.
Feeling the tingling sensation move across the circumference of my lower leg forced me to give off a jerking action (not that jerking action, perv!).
After immediately wiping off the shampoo from my face with a dry towel, I was amazed, aghast, taken aback, I'm running out of words here.... to see, to my horror of horrors.... a cockroach! (Cue in Psycho theme.)
I'm not scared of cockroaches, that I can assure you. I can even hold them with my bare hands (yeah, I can hear you cringe in disgust right now), that is, granted they are not moving anymore. I just don't like the feel of their legs on my skin. It's just so... icky!
I don't know what it was that gave the cockroach enough courage to share a shower with me. I must have some kind of oozing sex appeal that only four-legged creatures appreciate. Or she (I am assuming that the cockroach is female because she was with me in the shower) must be a reincarnation of someone I used to share a shower with in my past life (if I had one).
Good thing my instincts didn't tell me to step on her at first sight. I would have done so in my wide-awake state of mind. Otherwise, I would be scrubbing my feet a thousand times more today. And I would have a bathroom floor with Mentos (crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside) remnants to clean for the next few minutes or so.
Now isn't that some peculiar way to start the day?
The Bystander
I wasn't really a bystander then. I just happened to be walking towards the scene of where everything happened that day.
Friday afternoon. Everyone was rushing to go home or go elsewhere to enjoy a great weekend start. Rain just stopped pouring and the streets of the city were wet. As for me, I couldn't wait to leave the office and indulge myself in a badminton game a few cities away from where I work.
Me and a new officemate shared the elevator and enjoyed our leisurely walk-and-talk to where we were supposed to take our respective rides. As we were about to cross the street, we saw a group of people gathered right in the middle of one of the most populated avenues in the city. There must be something really wrong there, we thought.
Despite the throng of people gathered there, vehicular traffic continued, however, at a slower pace. Hence, we couldn't just cross the street and go to where all the "action" is because we might get run over by a slow-moving bus, whose driver happens to be looking at the "action" as well.
So me and my officemate became mere bystanders. Standing at the sidewalk to catch all the "action."
But the "action," we realized, was really an "in-action." Right in the middle of the street, there was a lady sprawled on the floor, blood oozing from her head. People were gathered around her, frozen in shock, doing nothing. Yup, the lady's body was not in "action" as she was very still. She was not moving, not one bit. And the people around her were not in "action" as well as they didn't move a muscle and were just content with being spectators.
And then I saw this policeman, who, instead of helping her out immediately, lifted the lady's arm, nudged her leg a little with his foot and went around her still body. It took a few minutes before a vehicle stopped by and some people from the crowd actually took heed of the situation and lifted her into the vehicle.
Once in the vehicle, no one wanted to accompany her to the nearest hospital, which was just a few blocks away from the scene. Fortunately, a traffic aide went with her albeit being prodded by the policeman forcefully.
You see, what happened was she got sideswiped by a raging motorcycle. The vehicles were actually stopped by a traffic enforcer to make way for the pedestrians. But being in a country where traffic enforcement is not given due accord, the good and mighty motorcycle driver went his way and proceeded despite the policeman's order. That was when Harry (the motorcycle) met Sally (the lady).
I myself am guilty of being motionless that afternoon. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't move a muscle. I was in shock. I was frozen as ice. I was mumbling some things I couldn't remember but that was it. It has always been my reaction to an emergency. I never got over it.
The only thing I could do that time, and a few hours after that, was to pray. I couldn't do anything. I just prayed... prayed for her safety... that she survives the ordeal.
So the next time one of you, my dear friends, intend to meet an accident, please don't take me with you. Otherwise, you will just have another bystander looking over your helpless body sprawled in the busy streets of the city.
Friday afternoon. Everyone was rushing to go home or go elsewhere to enjoy a great weekend start. Rain just stopped pouring and the streets of the city were wet. As for me, I couldn't wait to leave the office and indulge myself in a badminton game a few cities away from where I work.
Me and a new officemate shared the elevator and enjoyed our leisurely walk-and-talk to where we were supposed to take our respective rides. As we were about to cross the street, we saw a group of people gathered right in the middle of one of the most populated avenues in the city. There must be something really wrong there, we thought.
Despite the throng of people gathered there, vehicular traffic continued, however, at a slower pace. Hence, we couldn't just cross the street and go to where all the "action" is because we might get run over by a slow-moving bus, whose driver happens to be looking at the "action" as well.
So me and my officemate became mere bystanders. Standing at the sidewalk to catch all the "action."
But the "action," we realized, was really an "in-action." Right in the middle of the street, there was a lady sprawled on the floor, blood oozing from her head. People were gathered around her, frozen in shock, doing nothing. Yup, the lady's body was not in "action" as she was very still. She was not moving, not one bit. And the people around her were not in "action" as well as they didn't move a muscle and were just content with being spectators.
And then I saw this policeman, who, instead of helping her out immediately, lifted the lady's arm, nudged her leg a little with his foot and went around her still body. It took a few minutes before a vehicle stopped by and some people from the crowd actually took heed of the situation and lifted her into the vehicle.
Once in the vehicle, no one wanted to accompany her to the nearest hospital, which was just a few blocks away from the scene. Fortunately, a traffic aide went with her albeit being prodded by the policeman forcefully.
You see, what happened was she got sideswiped by a raging motorcycle. The vehicles were actually stopped by a traffic enforcer to make way for the pedestrians. But being in a country where traffic enforcement is not given due accord, the good and mighty motorcycle driver went his way and proceeded despite the policeman's order. That was when Harry (the motorcycle) met Sally (the lady).
I myself am guilty of being motionless that afternoon. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't move a muscle. I was in shock. I was frozen as ice. I was mumbling some things I couldn't remember but that was it. It has always been my reaction to an emergency. I never got over it.
The only thing I could do that time, and a few hours after that, was to pray. I couldn't do anything. I just prayed... prayed for her safety... that she survives the ordeal.
So the next time one of you, my dear friends, intend to meet an accident, please don't take me with you. Otherwise, you will just have another bystander looking over your helpless body sprawled in the busy streets of the city.
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
A Monster's Tale
A hot day, it is, with the temperature and humidity both rising by the minute. It sure is a nice way to cool off in far away Baguio or in the cool waters of a swimming pool. But I've just been to Baguio and there is no pool in sight... What to do?
Fortunately, there is an Ice Monster outlet in a nearby building... Tempting, I should say. But heck, I can't eat much because of my slow metabolism.
Damn those metabolic rates!
But wait a minute, hot coffee (kapeng mainit)! They do have fruit flavors and toppings to choose from! Hmmm.... I might as well try the mango toppings, 'coz I'm a real sucker for mangoes. But the mandarin oranges look just as tempting... And oranges make my bowel move faster. OK I'll just have the mangoes. But the cookies and cream look more tempting than those two. Decisions... decisions....
I'm going to the gym later, so I guess it's ok to pack in more calories. But I've already had my share of cornicks and choco flakes from Baguio today. So that's like packing in about a million calories, versus the few hundred calories I'll be burning tonight. That would far exceed my daily caloric intake allowance!
Oh, well. Damn indecisions and cursed pride. I guess I'll just have to throw my diet away for a while. Besides, indulgence is better than diamonds at any place, at any time.
"One Cookies and Cream with extra Vanilla Ice Cream, please!"
Fortunately, there is an Ice Monster outlet in a nearby building... Tempting, I should say. But heck, I can't eat much because of my slow metabolism.
Damn those metabolic rates!
But wait a minute, hot coffee (kapeng mainit)! They do have fruit flavors and toppings to choose from! Hmmm.... I might as well try the mango toppings, 'coz I'm a real sucker for mangoes. But the mandarin oranges look just as tempting... And oranges make my bowel move faster. OK I'll just have the mangoes. But the cookies and cream look more tempting than those two. Decisions... decisions....
I'm going to the gym later, so I guess it's ok to pack in more calories. But I've already had my share of cornicks and choco flakes from Baguio today. So that's like packing in about a million calories, versus the few hundred calories I'll be burning tonight. That would far exceed my daily caloric intake allowance!
Oh, well. Damn indecisions and cursed pride. I guess I'll just have to throw my diet away for a while. Besides, indulgence is better than diamonds at any place, at any time.
"One Cookies and Cream with extra Vanilla Ice Cream, please!"
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
For Every Yin
Everything has a trade off, so it seems.
Yesterday, I went to a VTR for a liquor commercial. I was so excited about doing the VTR because it has been quite a while since I last did one.
The minute I arrived at the agency, something told me that this particular project was not for me. I signed up for the schedule and was greeted by the person in charge. She used to work for the casting agency that first got me to model. In fact, she recalls, she was the one who "discovered" me. Very star-like.
Her initial reaction was, "You seem to have lost a lot of weight." Hint number one: We are looking for someone who is much fatter than you. Why the heck did you lose weight?
"I am not that thin. I am still fat... I still have flabs and love handles," was my reply. I was supposing I could reassure her that I was still cut out for this project.
And so I waited... and waited... and got to talk to a co-"model." I really like that, calling myself a commercial model. Hahahaha.... Anyway, I got a lot of background info on the TVC (TV Commercial) from him. I found out that he was a cousin of a famous athlete/commercial model/schoolmate of mine back in college. And then he was called in.
Urgh! More minutes of agonizing waiting!
And then my name was called. My sweet sounding name! It's my turn to show off! As I entered the room, my new-found friend told me to prepare to strip. I was like, "OK, that won't be a problem."
"Your name please... How old are you Donnell? And your height? OK, look at the camera... now turn to your right.... turn your head to the camera... now smile... OK, now to the left.... turn your head to the camera... now smile... OK. Thank you."
That's it?!? I mean, I was supposed to strip, wasn't I? I was supposed to be this beach blob who will emerge from underwater as a beach hunk, right?
Hint number two: You are not what we are looking for. You are not fat enough. Thank you for you time. If we do have another project, we'll keep you in mind. The one ahead of you is fatter than you. He is perfect for the role.
Disappointing, true. I mean, I have waited all my life for a big break like this, going to Boracay to do a shoot. And now, I lost my only hope of being a commercial model -- being too fat. Now, I am just fat. None of the too there. All because I want to feel great and love my body more.
They say that for every Yin, there is a Yang. For every action, and equal and opposite reaction. Saddening as it is, there is still hope left in me. I might have lost the commercial, but I guess I am also enjoying the fruits of my diet and exercise. Although I still have to wait a couple more months (or years) before I could actually wear speedo bikini-type swimming trunks. There will be other commercials for me, I know. There will be other breaks...
...I hope.
Yesterday, I went to a VTR for a liquor commercial. I was so excited about doing the VTR because it has been quite a while since I last did one.
The minute I arrived at the agency, something told me that this particular project was not for me. I signed up for the schedule and was greeted by the person in charge. She used to work for the casting agency that first got me to model. In fact, she recalls, she was the one who "discovered" me. Very star-like.
Her initial reaction was, "You seem to have lost a lot of weight." Hint number one: We are looking for someone who is much fatter than you. Why the heck did you lose weight?
"I am not that thin. I am still fat... I still have flabs and love handles," was my reply. I was supposing I could reassure her that I was still cut out for this project.
And so I waited... and waited... and got to talk to a co-"model." I really like that, calling myself a commercial model. Hahahaha.... Anyway, I got a lot of background info on the TVC (TV Commercial) from him. I found out that he was a cousin of a famous athlete/commercial model/schoolmate of mine back in college. And then he was called in.
Urgh! More minutes of agonizing waiting!
And then my name was called. My sweet sounding name! It's my turn to show off! As I entered the room, my new-found friend told me to prepare to strip. I was like, "OK, that won't be a problem."
"Your name please... How old are you Donnell? And your height? OK, look at the camera... now turn to your right.... turn your head to the camera... now smile... OK, now to the left.... turn your head to the camera... now smile... OK. Thank you."
That's it?!? I mean, I was supposed to strip, wasn't I? I was supposed to be this beach blob who will emerge from underwater as a beach hunk, right?
Hint number two: You are not what we are looking for. You are not fat enough. Thank you for you time. If we do have another project, we'll keep you in mind. The one ahead of you is fatter than you. He is perfect for the role.
Disappointing, true. I mean, I have waited all my life for a big break like this, going to Boracay to do a shoot. And now, I lost my only hope of being a commercial model -- being too fat. Now, I am just fat. None of the too there. All because I want to feel great and love my body more.
They say that for every Yin, there is a Yang. For every action, and equal and opposite reaction. Saddening as it is, there is still hope left in me. I might have lost the commercial, but I guess I am also enjoying the fruits of my diet and exercise. Although I still have to wait a couple more months (or years) before I could actually wear speedo bikini-type swimming trunks. There will be other commercials for me, I know. There will be other breaks...
...I hope.
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Orca: Forward Looking
This week is definitely something to look forward to, at least for me.
I am about to close a publication (close being a term for having it released to the printers), an exam to pass, a paper to submit... It is just plain toxic.
But behind all these toxicities in the week, there are actually somethings that I am looking forward to with great anticipation.
This afternoon, I will be on my way to a VTR. It's something unlike the commercial I have done before, where I did play a support character. It is a VTR for an island-hopping TVC. Whatever the product or government agency the VTR will be scouting talents for, only heaven knows. And with heaven, I mean those in the top level of the advertising industry. Hahahaha... Does it give away my awe for the crazy industry called advertising? I suppose so.
My only wish is that I do bag the role for whatever commercial it may be. It has been two months since I last did a commercial (as if it were on a regular basis. Believe me it's not. It was my first and only commercial so far).
I received a text message yesterday informing me about the VTR. They asked me if I knew how to swim. Of course I know how to swim! I was a dolphin in one of my past lives. I was a killer whale almost all my life. It is now that I am enjoying my new role (and size) as a baby orca.
I immediately sent them a reply (or a query) that indeed, I know how to swim, and what outfit is needed, and when is the scheduled shoot. As if I was really the one to bag the role. Hahahaha... Definitely, if shoot will be this weekend, I will not be able to make it as I would be out of town. And the reason I asked for the outfit is because I am scared to be wearing trunks, as in bikini trunks, in public. I only wear those when I am in my own private environment. Talk about psycho! Imagine the reaction of the people if ever they see me in trunks! The ad might be banned by the local regulating body if ever they make me do something like that! Orca for Speedo. Que horror!
Another thing that I am looking forward to is my trip to Baguio this weekend. I will stand as a secondary sponsor in my cousin's wedding. It will be my first time to see Baguio in ages (last trip there was in 2001). At least now, I will get a glimpse of the famous SM Baguio, the most beautiful SM ever built in the country -- so they say. I will get to rummage through the UKs in the city (UK is a term we use for ukay-ukay) and get new wardrobe for my new baby Orca look. I will be able to show my grand aunt that I am now a baby Orca, which is a big difference from the last time she saw me. I mean, I was a blue whale back then, not even an Orca. I will be able to go to places I wasn't able to go to before in Baguio! Isn't it quite obvious that I am really excited about this trip? Naaaah... I don't think so.
There is really much to look forward to this week. But I guess the thing that I am looking forward to the most is this month's salary.
I am about to close a publication (close being a term for having it released to the printers), an exam to pass, a paper to submit... It is just plain toxic.
But behind all these toxicities in the week, there are actually somethings that I am looking forward to with great anticipation.
This afternoon, I will be on my way to a VTR. It's something unlike the commercial I have done before, where I did play a support character. It is a VTR for an island-hopping TVC. Whatever the product or government agency the VTR will be scouting talents for, only heaven knows. And with heaven, I mean those in the top level of the advertising industry. Hahahaha... Does it give away my awe for the crazy industry called advertising? I suppose so.
My only wish is that I do bag the role for whatever commercial it may be. It has been two months since I last did a commercial (as if it were on a regular basis. Believe me it's not. It was my first and only commercial so far).
I received a text message yesterday informing me about the VTR. They asked me if I knew how to swim. Of course I know how to swim! I was a dolphin in one of my past lives. I was a killer whale almost all my life. It is now that I am enjoying my new role (and size) as a baby orca.
I immediately sent them a reply (or a query) that indeed, I know how to swim, and what outfit is needed, and when is the scheduled shoot. As if I was really the one to bag the role. Hahahaha... Definitely, if shoot will be this weekend, I will not be able to make it as I would be out of town. And the reason I asked for the outfit is because I am scared to be wearing trunks, as in bikini trunks, in public. I only wear those when I am in my own private environment. Talk about psycho! Imagine the reaction of the people if ever they see me in trunks! The ad might be banned by the local regulating body if ever they make me do something like that! Orca for Speedo. Que horror!
Another thing that I am looking forward to is my trip to Baguio this weekend. I will stand as a secondary sponsor in my cousin's wedding. It will be my first time to see Baguio in ages (last trip there was in 2001). At least now, I will get a glimpse of the famous SM Baguio, the most beautiful SM ever built in the country -- so they say. I will get to rummage through the UKs in the city (UK is a term we use for ukay-ukay) and get new wardrobe for my new baby Orca look. I will be able to show my grand aunt that I am now a baby Orca, which is a big difference from the last time she saw me. I mean, I was a blue whale back then, not even an Orca. I will be able to go to places I wasn't able to go to before in Baguio! Isn't it quite obvious that I am really excited about this trip? Naaaah... I don't think so.
There is really much to look forward to this week. But I guess the thing that I am looking forward to the most is this month's salary.
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