Scenes from Jupiter Street (Part 2)

The so-called Red Light District of Makati and how it looks like in my time when I happen to pass by it. I don't go there everyday. Who knows how it will look like ten years from now?

Scenes from Jupiter Street (Part 1)

Me and Mox (my auntie's godson) was walking home from Coco Cabana and passed by Jupiter Street. Unexpectedly, as I was taking some random pics I come across the new Magdalenes of the night.

They unhesitatedly posed for my cam, with Mox in the middle and when I was done, they came to me too excited to see the picture I took of them. Then they walked away and disappeared at the end of the street.

Coco Cabana

Last night was Thanksgiving and was a holiday in the U.S. -- no work for us (I am talking Philippine time). It was perk night organized by our office. It was fun night where we get to witness some of the account's talent sing, dance and play in a band. This restaurant and bar is located in Kalayaan Ave, near Jupiter Street, Makati City.

Back to Basics

It's as if I have never applied for a job before but as I was updating my resume, I realized that I put in details I don't think is relevant to the job I wanted to get in. So, I did a quick internet search and found a useful site that exactly described that the way I want my resume to be: simple and concise.

I used to remember how my cousin complained how a pain in the neck it was to edit his father's 20 page long resume, with data that dates back to the 1970's. When he has successfully cut the pages down to seven, my uncle had to intervene and say enough -- maybe my uncle needs this site or anyone out there who may want to rethink how their resumes should be done.

Hope this is helpful:

http://www.forbes.com/business/2005/06/29/cx_sr_0630bizbasicslide.html?thisSpeed=6000

Sniffing Rugby

This boy posed for my camera without hesitation, water bottle in hand, sniffing the rugby inside.

Seeing it truly breaks my heart...

Rugby Boys

Someone asked why would I take a photo of such a ghastly sight? I said I took this photo because it is an image of a society I lived in. I try to preserve it in my memory so I wouldn't take for granted the fact that every night of my childhood I lie snug in bed, story book in hand, feeling safe and loved.

It may look like any other street urchin but see the water bottle in his arm? Inside is rugby, just an ordinary household adhesive used to glue together a shoe or the torn side of a leather sofa. In a T.V. documentary made by a Karen Davila, rugby was shown as one cheap inhalant popular among teenagers, alarmingly a rampant choice for substance abuse.

Long After it is Gone

I sort of let this cartoon hang here a bit until I am able to collate my thoughts on it. I read somewhere that men love when there is hope and women love long after it is gone...Men simply leave when they are unhappy and being in a circle of guy friends caught up between gal friends, I couldn't help but be sandwiched between the perennial misunderstanding between the sexes in the aspect of relationship, love and commitment.

I am no expert in this subject and so for quite a time after one big failure, I find myself involved in several meaningful platonic relationships. I have observed and confirmed from my guy friends, that men after quite some time in relationships eventually get bored. Often, they make subtle moves to give the girls the excuse to leave them and most the time, this befuddles the girl, clueless of the reason why there are tell-tale signs that the relationship is near its end. As how a favorite guyfriend puts it, "Only a scumbag will initiate a break-up. It's an unpleasant situation but we always give the girl a graceful exit."

That's why love is a commitment. You stay even though you feel like you will "cut and run." There was a study in psychology that men after 25 years of age, are more likely to commit because the frontal cortex of the brain has completed its development. Staying away from men until they are 25 is probably a good choice -- but then each person's mind, maturity and perpective in life has a pace and design of its own.

Grandfather's Apprentice (Part 2)

My grandfather also runs a pizza shop that has three branches. I recall that he modified the recipe of the crust, built the oven and the tin plates to bake it in. Every morning of my early childhood I spent watching him mix the flour and knead the dough. But the exciting part for me and my cousin Andre is in the afternoon, when he gets to inspect for rejected crusts, with us looming in the background, waiting like hungry vultures. Then, he would spread margarine and sugar on top of the "rejected crust," bake it and give it to us for merienda (Spanish for an "afternoon snack").

The old house has several French windows which my grandfather built and I love sleeping in them in the afternoon. This is where you put the pillows in the morning so the sun can shine on them and in the afternoon, when the cool breezes blows, a wonderful time to get a siesta (Spanish for "an afternoon nap").

I have not thought of how he had made much influence in my life not until this Sunday afternoon when I was fixing the broken switch of my study lamp and thought how can I have such a knack for fixing things. Well, not only I have a manual for it at home in Iloilo but I remembered that as a young girl, I would hang like a cloud following my grandfather as he fixes things in the house.

In this more modern times, where families are more nuclear than extended, I feel privileged to have lived at a time when I lived with grandparents, uncles and aunts.

Grandfather's Apprentice (Part 1)

If my grandfather from the maternal side had lived to this day, he would have reached 100 years. I remembered that when he was 97, he used to talk about how he would like us to throw him a huge party to celebrate a century of being alive, that is only if his body had held out for him for three more years.

Of my fondest memories of growing up in the old house, he has left everywhere a tell-tale signs of his resourcefulness and ingenuity. He created doors that lock automatically from the outside and when you pull a string, it opens. He fashioned that kind door to prevent the horde of chickens that run freely in the yard, from entering the house and creating a havoc.

I also remembered that come dusk, when he turns the T.V. on for the evening news, he would sleep within the hour, so from an old baking timer, he created a jack where he could plug the T.V. on, turn the dial to an hour, and it would automatically switch the T.V. off after an hour has passed.

The two huge trees of chicos (a brown fruit with a sweet, somewhat sandy flesh) in the terrace was planted when my mother was only seven years old. He planted them, having gotten the seedlings from the Department of Agriculture where he worked as the head. What is amazing about the trees is that it bears chicos, bigger than your fists and this was a rare variety I have never seen again, unlike the regular breed which bears the round smaller one, as big as golf balls.

P.S. to be continued in part two since longer articles cannot be posted with spaces for paragraphs...

Recommended Watch: Spirited Away

When I am tucked away, quiet, I am busy soaking up the world. I have long wanted to watch this anime but I never had the chance until today. Not until, dear cousin introduced me to the site.

Want to know more about it? Read:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spirited_Away

Want to see it? Visit:

http://anime6.org/?p=261

Gladiolas for Grandma

Of the grandparents I had, the first who passed away was my grandmother from the maternal side. I always remember that every November 1 we visit her grave, where we lay on her tomb pink gladiolas.

It's the time of the year where besides Christmas, the family from my mother's side get together in the cementary and have an informal gathering, where we get to eat/share arroz valenciana (sticky yellow-colored rice with bits of pork, liver, chicken, raisins, egg and bell pepper), baye-baye (rolled sweet rice cake with shredded coconut meat), ibus (steamed sticky rice wrapped in coconut leaves eaten with sweet mangoes) and pinipig (sticky rice pounded flat usually eaten as it is or used as a topping on an ice cream and other cold desserts).

There is a tradition, if I have recalled the stories of my elders correctly, that having something "sticky" on Fiesta Minatay (The feast for the dead), will make long life "stick" to you as well.

photo taken from:
http://karenswhimsy.com/public-domain-images/flower-pictures/images/flower-pictures-4.jpg

A Green Thumb

If my grandmother is known for her flowers, I am known for my vegetable garden. When I was ten I have this natural curiosity for growing things and living in a tropical country means, any seed thrown in the backyard, will most likely grow into something edible.

Of the many things I have enjoyed planting is kalabasa or squash. The plant is simultaneously or synchronously monoecious since it grows both male and female flowers and I remembered waking up early in the morning looking for female flowers, playing the pollinator, and as how my father puts, you have to put the tiny flower penis into the little flower vagina! I used to complain how there could be more male flowers than females - it turns out that the plant is subandroecious, meaning there are more male flowers than females, so often the male flowers becomes part of our vegetable dish.

I took this photo from my friend's mother's backyard. I have never planted an oblong-shaped squash before but I remembered the biggest one I have grown is approximately 35 cm. in diameter.

I am nothing without you

I have nothing to say...this picture must speak for itself. This one is from my friend's sketchblog. Should you wish to know more about the artist visit: http://www.homanga.net

An Interesting Read

A friend and I, very recently talked about the books that we were reading and she sent me an excerpt of a book, for recommended reading. As I skim through the lines, I can't help but read in awe. I exclaimed, I better get me a copy of this book! I never scrimp on books but I just had snatch me a copy for this month's read and I just have to control myself for splurging in a bookstore again.

The Invitation

Oriah Mountain Dreamer

© 1995 by Oriah House, From "Dreams Of Desire"

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love for your dreams for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon... I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain mine or your own without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy mine or your own if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful be realistic to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty everyday. And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure yours and mine and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes."

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Reminiscing a Childhood Infatuation

When I was ten, my family moved to a different house so I also moved to a different school. In that school, I met a friend who is like me, left out from the group because I was new and he, at such a tender age, was rather eccentric. I share with him my waterbottle or my pack of juice drink, I let him bite on my sandwich or I save him an extra pack of crackers during recess, and we talk about anything from our favorite Tom and Jerry cartoons, to Jackie Chan, to the Hong Kong movie Magic to Win which starred, Kris Aquino, the daughter of the first female president of the Philippines. Winning his confidence and somehow, just enduring his usual bouts of moodiness, he would often draw me anything I want. I kept these drawings inserted in my father's college yearbook and would take a look at it from time to time.

I remember once during a free period, as I was reviewing for a minor test in math, he sat across me three seats apart, doing a sketch that he kept hidden from me, glancing at my direction from time to time. When I was done with my workbook, I came to him and asked him what he was sketching this time. He tore the piece of paper and threw it in the wastebasket but I went after it and paper trash spilled all over the floor, as he and I scrambled to get to it first. Finally after a desparate battle through the mess, I got the paper and was surprise when I saw that it was a caricature of me. I smiled and I saw him resigned to his seat, blushing the reddest that he could muster.

About a year and a half ago, we met again and I asked him if he still paint or sketch, I asked him if he has something for me, just like the old times. This sketch was the one I chose over the others he showed me -- Why do you think I chose it?

Not my Usual Walk Home

Since the Glorietta 2 "explosion", as I would prefer to call it, walking my usual route from Ayala MRT to work and home is never the same. Today, my friend Bing and I decided to walk to home along Ayala Avenue instead of going to Greenbelt, passing Glorietta before reaching the MRT station. This has been my route since I started working in Makati and I had never -- that last Friday morning of Oct 19, felt the ominous atmosphere that would put the entire Metro Manila in Red Alert.

I actually refused to post any details in this blog until I have read more information about the explosion. Initial reports last Friday claimed that an LPG (liquified petroleum gas) leak caused the explosion to reports of a bomb blast by Muslim extremists, and as of the most recent update, findings reveal that the blast may have been purely accidental.

Arson and police investigators said they had found signs of a “gas explosion” but nothing that would indicate that it was a bomb that triggered the blast. Fire Supt. Fenniore Jaudian, chief of the Interagency Arson Task Force, Monday told reporters that there was an “accumulation of methane” in the basement of the Glorietta 2 when one of the pumps in the sewage system malfunctioned.

Heat from the motors, ventilator fans, and automatic switches in the area, Jaudian said, could have ignited the methane inside the enclosed basement. The heat generated could have triggered an eruption of a 3,500-liter diesel tank also located in the basement.

“There were signs of a buildup of pressure,” Jaudian said. “From our evaluation, it’s more on the methane (angle) and from Day 1, that has not changed. What we have seen points to a gas explosion.”

*http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/inquirerheadlines/nation/view_article.php?article_id=96163

Cine Europa October 18-31, 2007

Sick and tired of the Hollywood movies that dominate the world, I have always been a fan of films that are artistic and not mainstream. I never am picky and would love every glimpse of the movies made around the globe.

Of the yearly film festivals held since I came to live here in Metro Manila, there never was at least a movie or two that I missed from Cine Europa. The movies are for free and five years ago a friend and I, anticipating the long snaky queue to the movie, came early and being the first two people in the queue, got ourselves a mug each for being the early birds. This was at the time when the cinema did not issue any tickets and would only accomodate as much as the seating capacity of the movie theater, causing a lot of complaints from the disgruntled audience.

It is a good thing that of this year's selection, the German movie Das Leben der Anderen (The Lives of Others) will be shown. I have been wanting to get a copy of this movie and have asked my friend's German boyfriend to buy me a copy, only that I asked too late for him to get me one and he is leaving for the Philippines.

Lifted from http://guides.clickthecity.com/movies/?p=2249, here are the must-sees:


The Lives of Others (Germany)
Written and directed by Florian Denckel von Donnersmarck

Synopsis: Captain Wiesler is a wiretapping specialist who works for the East German Secret Police during the eighties. He is assigned to a dissident collaborating playwright, Georg Dreyman, and as he listens in on the radical’s private conversations, he begins to question everything he believes in, and he finds himself becoming sympathetic to the enemy’s cause.Why you should see it: The Lives of Others won the 2007 Academy Award for best foreign language film, and for good reason. It is a truly wonderful and moving piece of cinema that never settles for the easy answers. It takes a pretty simple premise and turns it into a truly deep examination of all the ideologies that surrounded a genuinely complicated era. The acting and direction have garnered praise from all around the world, and it certainly deserves some of our local praise.


Screenings: October 22, 7:15 PM, October 29, 10:00 PM


Shooting Dogs (UK/Germany)
Directed by Michael Caton-Smith, written by David Wolstencroft

Synopsis: During the 1994 Rwandan Genocide, a Catholic priest and a English teacher struggle to make sense of all the ethnic violence and the complete inability of anyone to stop it.Why you should see it: The Rwandan Genocide isn’t the easiest subject to tackle, but this film just tries to take it head on. The film was shot in Kigali, where everything actually happened, and employed many Rwandan massacre survivors. The film was an ambitious undertaking from the start, and it all the ambition translates pretty well on screen.

Screenings: October 23, 10:00 PM


Fanny and Alexander (Sweden)
Written and Directed by Ingmar Bergman

Synopsis: Fanny and Alexander have their idyllic family life shaken by the death of their father. Their mother marries a stern Bishop who makes their lives miserable. With the help of some magic, the two hatch a plan to escape the clutches of their stern new father.Why you should see it: Ingmar Bergman is a true cinematic master, and his death this year was a blow to all film lovers everywhere. Fanny and Alexander is one of more accessible films of a director known for sometimes being incomprehensible, and is a good jumping-on point for anyone who wants to delve deeper into this master’s works.

Screenings: October 19. 8:00 PM, October 24, 2:00 PM, October 28, 4:00 PM.


The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (France/West Germany)
Written and Directed by Jacque Demy. Music by Michel Legrand

Synopsis: Genevieve runs an umbrella shop with her mother in Cherbourg. She is in love with Guy, an auto mechanic, but he soon has to go off to war. The war keeps them apart, and as time passes, everything changes for them. Guy returns from the war only to find that Genevieve is no longer there.Why you should see it: Every word in this film is sung. Every single one. The film paints a bright and colorful world filled with joy and music, and we really need that sometimes. It’s a kind of Technicolor spectacle that doesn’t really get made anymore.

Screenings: October 20, 6:30 PM, October 25, 12:00 NN, October 30, 4:50 PM


Closely Watched Trains (Czech Republic)

Directed by Jim Henzel. Written by Bohumil Hrabal and Jim Henzel

Synopsis: In German-occupied Czechoslovakia, young Milos works at a railway station. Sexually frustrated, he concentrates all his energy on losing his virginity, despite a war going on all around him.Why you should see it: It is a crime that hardly anyone knows about Closely Watched Trains. Winner of the 1967 Academy award for best foreign language film, this film is one of the finest comedies ever made. It’s a sexual coming of age tale that also manages to comment on Authoritarianism. It’s like American Pie if it had a social conscience.

Screenings: October 19, 6:00 PM, October 24, 12:00 NN, October 28, 9:40 PM

LEA SALONGA - I Enjoy being a Girl

This is one of my favorite songs from the musical, The Flower Drum Song. Yes, and I am singing it. I am not yet sure if the band can play the melody right. I hope they can improvise, it doesn't have to be an orchetra.

Love and the Science of it

Contrary to the images that may enter your mind when you hear the word Kama Sutra, never in the history of mankind is there a text, as explicit as it is that will instruct a young man how to be a lover and husband -- you can call it as the world's ancient sex education manual.

It was in the Vedic period when the different schools of science developed like medicine and astronomy and the science of love- Kama, is one of them. To quote the book, the science is mainly concerned with fulfilling the desires of the flesh. It aims to teach a person the best method to control and properly guide the desires particularly the sexual urge, so that the person may become a useful member of the family, society, and his country and to contribute to their welfare by his way of life.*

Sometimes, love can be like a war between man and woman, but the writing reconciles the difference between the two and emphasizes that these two beings are complemetary in the greater scheme of the procreation of mankind.

*S.C. Upadhyaya MA LLB DL PHD, The Kama Sutra-The Hindu Art of Love

In my Search for Rumi

Today, a friend was craving for a Jollibee hamburger, while she remarked that she had never heard of verbal craving, the kind I had for Rumi. I've been wanting to conclude my tribute by ending it with a third verse from him but I don't want to copy the one found in wikipedia. I don't want to search for one over the web since I doubt its authenticity. I can borrow another friend's copy but it may take some time to procure it and so I went out today and visited four bookstores in vain. I could have gotten a copy of the book months ago but for some unusual bout of stinginess, I refused to buy it -- now, I want to hit myself hard in the head.

In lieu of it, I will present something personal and along with it is a story. A few years ago, I become enamored with someone for the reason that we have this certain likeness in our thoughts, in our hearts and in our spirit. I came to believe I found what I was looking for, I plotted to gain the friendship and secretly wished to be reciprocated but it was meant for us to drift apart as if we never shared a meal, a secret and a laughter. To this day, the feeling or the memory of what was left of it remains unrequited, but he will always be the catalyst for this humble verse.

To Breathe and to Love

To live is to love with passion
Heart

Mind
Body
and
Soul
To not breathe is better
Than to love without.

Another One from Rumi

Rumi, as in my previous post, is known as the Persian Poet but I referred to him as Afghanistan because he was after all, born in Balkh, the location of which is the present-day Afghanistan. His writings, and the local dialect he used reflect his Persian heritage. Though his words were written in the 13th century, the verses never cease to lose its appeal many centuries after, as it does to me.


Love came,
and became like blood in my body.
It rushed through my veins and encircled my heart.
Everywhere I looked,
I saw one thing.
The Beloved's name written
on my limbs,
on my left palm,
on my forehead,
on the back of my neck,
on my right big toe.
Oh, my friend,
all that you see of me is just a shell,
and the rest belongs to the Beloved.

In Honor of Rumi

Last Friday, Oct 12 is the celebration of Ramadan, the Thanksgiving feast of our Filipino Muslim brethen and it is declared an official holiday.

I would like to share a verse from my favorite Afghanistan theologian, jurist and poet named Mawlānā Jalāl-ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī, more commonly known in the world as Rumi, whose " visions, words, and life teach us how to reach inner peace and happiness so we can finally stop the continual stream of hostility and hatred and achieve true global peace and harmony.*"

The minute I heard my first love story

I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was.
Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.

They're in each other all along.

*line lifted from wikipedia

A Backyard

Ever wondered where the duck came from from my previous post? This is a small duck shed. It looks pretty much like my grandfather's. In the old house where I grew up, I felt like it's like an animal farm with lots of chickens running around, some ducks and geese there, some goats and also some honey bees all belonging to my grandfather. The house is also surrounded by flowers, orchids and fruit trees planted by my grandmother-- you can name the fruit and we have it.

This one's taken last year around July in Tarlac, in my friend's backyard.

Linguine, Spinach Fettucine and Carbonara

The discovery of a new dish

does more for the happiness

of mankind than the

discovery of a star.

Brillat-Saravin

Seasonal Fruits

I try to get Vitamin C from natural sources as much as I can. So when I was on my way home I passed by a street vendor who sells fruits on a wooden push cart! I remember that there was a time, when they can only sell early morning at around 5.00-7.00 A.M. and after 6.00-10.00 pm because on rush hours, they were caught and fined by the Metro Manila Development Authority, as part of the street clean-up to unclogged the streets since vendors and buyers can obstruct traffic even in major highways like EDSA.

Anyway, in this picture, from left to right.

Rambutan/Rambotan. The red, hirsute exterior, peels to a juicy translucent flesh with a seed the shape of an almond but only bigger. As testament to their sweetness, they had attracted a couple of bees.

Naranghita (in Hiligaynon)/Dalandan (in Tagalog). I call this the Philippine orange, there are a lot of varieties and sizes for this fruit, some are sweet so you can peel and and eat the rinds as it is. Some can be sour, so you can squeeze and drink the juice instead. I was regularly buying this since June and they are common and cheaper during the rainy months.

Lanzones. The thin, pale yellow skin also has a juicy semi-opaque flesh the shape of a rind. My mother when she buys this fruit, always takes note if it is laden with black ants, as their presence is an indicator of their sweetness.

Here in Metro Manila, these fruits come from Batangas, Laguna and the Quezon Province. Although, I must say that for the Rambutan and Lanzones, the best ones I ever tasted came from Mindanao.


Note: I only meant to take a picture of the fruits but she asked if she can be part of it though, she posed rather shyly.

Of Wonderfully Wrapped Presents

Regardless of age, nothing can be as thrilling as opening a present. As we age, we cease to be the child who, in haste of uncovering a gift, would just impulsively tore its wrapping. As adults, we contain our excitement with calm composure but in the very core we never cease to be a child in wonderment. If we were to receive a fantastically wrapped present, we adore the view and felt torn between curiosity and awe, not wanting to spoil by opening it and yet wanting to get over the thrill.

This is for you my dear friend, Maan. Happy Birthday.

One of my Masterpieces in the Kitchen

Patotim or Duck Stew. One of the early recipes I learned from my Dad. Originally, he used tuba, the sap from coconut flowers, to soften the meat but because I live in Manila and there's not a place where I can buy it, I have to improvise and used San Miguel Beer instead. The result was deliriously delicious! Another kitchen experimentation success.

The Philippine Map

Iloilo City. That's where I grew up. It's about an hour plane ride from Metro Manila. The triangularly-shaped island is home to the 10 Datus* of Borneo. As the Legend goes, the 10 Datus fled the wrath of the Raja** and ended up in the Island of Panay, where they said to have sailed on a balangay***brought the plains from the Aeta Chieftain Marikudo and his escort Maniwantiwan for the price of a Golden Salakot**** and a lovely pearl necklace called manangyad, the length of which, touches the ground.


*Datu -borrowed word from Sanskit, Ruler
**Raja - borrowed word from Sanskit, tribal chieftain of lesser hierarchy to the Datu
***balangay - a ship commonly found in SE Asia, built to resist the monsoon winds
****Salakot - is a traditional wide-brimmed hat in the Philippines. It is usually made of either rattan or reeds.

Note: Definition for "salakot" from wikipedia

http://www.speedtest.net

This will convince you how slow Smartbro is.

My friend Lorie is currently using Destiny and you can see by visiting her site: http://lorielovestech.wordpress.com/ that the speed is faster than Globebroadband. See "Eat Dust Globelines." I wonder what she will say when she sees mine?

A Techie Girl’s Misadventure (with Smartbro)

Last Sunday was the Nth time I called Smartbro to report my connectivity problems. I started only March of this year, but there isn’t a month that I haven’t called to complain. So finally last Sunday, after my antenna conked out on me, I headed to my friend’s pad and braved the rain, the flooded streets and the danger of having my laptop bag snatched, just to get a free wifi connection! She lives along Pasong Tamo, Makati while I live in Quezon City. It’s a 30 minute MRT ride from North Ave (see map) to Ayala Station, where I got off to get Lorie’s BK Butterfinger mud pie in Glorietta and its also a bus and jeep ride to get to where she lives.

If there is such a thing as a rehab for Internet dependency, I would have been the ideal candidate, without Internet connection I feel the withdrawal symptoms of a cocaine addict. Despite the malevolence of the message boards and blogs of former Smart Wireless broadband users, I paid no heed to it. It is only now that the nightmarish truths I read became real. I must say though that I did enjoy my connection for two months but when the rainy months came, that’s when I started to connect, disconnect, connect, disconnect. If this began in May, then maybe it was in that month that my antenna started to malfunction. Did Smart dispatch any technicians? They did not — and being busy with work, I don’t have the luxury of time calling their helpdesk, and wait on their long queue for 30 to 40 minutes. I know, I held on that long before deciding to call on non-peak hours.

I did not have internet connection Saturday last week. I called Smart on a Sunday morning and gave the representative an earful litany of my connectivity woes. They called me back in the afternoon to inform me that someone will come over on a Monday between 4.oo-6.oo pm to fix the problem. Come Monday, nobody came as scheduled. Later in the evening I got a text message probably from one of the technicians that they finished late and requested a reschedule the next day. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday came but it was only on a Saturday that they came unannounced, knocked at the door several times before they texted me that they are outside the apartment. This is happened a week after I lost connection.

I know I can call Smart and get a refund because I didn’t have a decent internet connection for two weeks. In fact, when there was a storm in August, I did not have stable connection for two weeks too. I have learned from the technicians themselves that the antenna when exposed to the elements — wind, sun, rain easily gets busted, sometimes it does not even last 2 weeks. There’s one more thing I find annoying too – because on their job slip, they reported that it was I, the client who requested a reschedule when it was they who actually texted me and asked for reschedule.

I don’t want to continue giving my readers stress by complaining more, but I hope this convinced them not chose to Smartbro as their ISP, unless of course, the service becomes better.

As for my dear friend Lorie, it’s not just her wifi that I am after — we had a rift that lasted for three months with me sulking in silence but then as friendship goes, making up is about quality chika (chats) and hugs.