My brain is bigger than my boobs.

Or something like that. Remember? That infamous Joyce Jimenez line?

Anyway. Finally, I have something to discuss with you about. I'm sorry, my mind has been wandering some place for quite a while there, but I'm back on. As you all know, I'm leading a pretty boring life nowadays, but thankfully, interesting stuff keep hovering my thinkbox even on listless days. So let me lay one out right now...

I was watching The View yesterday, and the women were talking about how Botox, and plastic surgery as a whole, have become an epidemic addiction to most of aging America. Joy and Barbara admittedly shared their Botox tales and how it positively affected their personal lifestyles, self confidence and how it made them look younger (which isn't that visible, anyway). I was just like, well, that's ok. I guess. They've got the money, so why not spare it on something that they wish would make them look anymore attractive. And like I care about these stupid celebrities. But the bigger picture here is what I'm dwelling on.

My mother would constantly talk about her officemates who are all so eager to get boobjobs. As the soon-to-be-49 that she is, and with a rather deflated rack, she'd jokingly ask me over and over again if she could ride the bandwagon. Well, if she was 29, maybe I'd allow her, but at her age now, the risk just wouldn't make sense. Plus, having a small package didn't seem to have affected my dad for the past soon-to-be-25 years of their marriage, so I'm completely sure, he could bare with it for 25 more, you know what I mean. But I know that she's only joking, or at least half the time she is. Back to topic. I seriously don't get the obsessive vanity these people are drowing themselves into, that they'd suffer a mere couple of hours having some random guy, with a convincing surgical gear, vigorously insert monstrous plastic balloons into their chests, just to turn heads (pun may be intended). Moreso, did I hear that there's already stuffing for butts too? Jesus Christ, what in the world! I was told that John Estrada had his bottom done, which made a guy friend of ours invest interest into having his done too. I can't believe even men are now drawn into this insanity. What, do they think that having an upholstered butt would get them laid more? I don't think so.

And as for those who've made plastic surgery a weekly trip to the spa. I've seen some faces, and honestly, they don't look any good to me. Like this woman who appeared on Oprah last season. She looks like a gordy barbiedoll with an almost erupting upper lip. She talks very nasally, and couldn't even express herself very well due to her robotic facial muscles, let alone those tattoed eyebrows. Ouch! Guess how young the lady is. She's only 28! But look, she's like 12 years her senior with manly features. Seriously, what do these people get from this? Don't they see that they look, oh forgive me lord, fugly?? I mean, really ugly. As Noah perfectly said in The Notebook, "Science can only go so far, then comes God". See? That's what you get for completely ruining what God gave you to start with.

In case you'd ask... if I were given a chance to go under the knife, would I go for a lipo? No, 'cuz I don't like the idea of metal sticks getting into my fats just like what they do to pigs. If anything, I'll subtract, contrary to the trend. Perhaps, breast reduction. Trust me, having quite a gifted rack has been one of the most difficult things I have to deal with everyday, hence my bewilderment over those skinny girls who are painstakingly getting theirs done, with 4-pounder plastic jellos no less. That oughtta be heavier. Passive suicide just to look enticing? Genius!

From the collageneous attempts of having Jolie-ish lips, to the potentially painful injections extracting fat from the sacks below your eyes, and to the fake hair for those who didn't survive the battle of splitends. Seems like every beauty deficiency now has its corresponding scientific resolution. And it can only get worse.

Randomgasms!

"The road is long with many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where, who knows where"

I'm singing this aged song in my head as I was indulging myself in a small glass of vanilla ice-cream with a mountain full of chocolate syrup on top. And boom! Right then and there, after who knows where, I felt guilty. I'm a severely overweight woman who doesn't normally care about what I register in my piehole, and I suddenly felt guilt over a Hollies song. Fuckin' random!!!

You know what else is random? This certain Justin Timberlake song. What the fuck!!! I can't get it out of my head! "You see these shackles baby I'm your slave" Boy oh boy, without even looking at its lyric sheet, I've memorized the freakin' song just by listening to it through this radio station I always wake up to, which characteristically loves repeating a set of ten songs over and over and over again. "I'll let you whip me if I misbehave" Oh gawd, I don't really like singing along with lyrics as kinky as that, but honestly, I think it's the Sexyback effect. Admit it! You all love it, don't you? Even my dad has it as his ringtone! No kidding. Hahaha, well actually, my brother is the culprit of it, but can you just imagine how weird it would be had my father set it up as his ringtone himself? Hahaha, random! But seriously. This song is awfully addicting. I hate it.

As I told Bone this afternoon, I was reading stuff on the internet about cars, sports, and other stuff just so I could wipe the word boredom off my forehead once again. Even made myself extra busy voting simultaneously for my Spanish sweetheart in this freakin poll - see shameless sidebar promo. Haha, can you blame me? He's super hot! And the fact that Andy Roddick's beating him, not to mention by a large margin, is pissing me off. I mean, the American is cute, I'll give him that. But come on now, Nadal > Roddick. Hot > Cute. Seriously!


Oh gosh. Sweat. Wine. Biceps. MARRY ME!

I'm so into this 20 year old who I wouldn't even have a proper communication with. Mi hable Espanol? No. Boo me. But still, help me vote for his hotness!!! Pretty please with puto't kutchinta on top, hehehe. After all, Filipinos are of Spanish descent, hindi ba? Haha, biglang napunta dun. =p

Ugly Betty premiered tonight. It was cute, funny, a little forgettable. But I'm sure it'll have it's own demographic too, myself partly included, especially that it's something to spend your time with while waiting for the main event. Haay, buhay telebisyon nanaman. I know. It entirely keeps me company. Everyday. Hmm. I think I should have a boyfriend. That way, I'd gladly release these random obsessions which, in reality, won't get me anywhere in life, plus I'd also stop pestering my parents to have family time (translation = gastos) with me and my (newly adult) brother every day off.

Feeling ko tuloy, any day my mom would get to my face and pull off a Maricel Soriano...
"Get out of my house, I don't need a parasite!" Yikes. Hahaha, I don't know what I'd do. =))

Naku, eto ba ang tama ng pagkain ng ice-cream? Kung ano-ano na lang tina-type ko. I've never been this random in my entire blogging life. Or have I? I don't know, but it feels oddly different this time. Like I had six bites of Snoop's brownies, haha. Man, I think I need a rest. A legitimate rest. At ayoko pang mamatay. Hahaha.

T.G.I.W.

As I've earlier stated, there's another tv show that intrigued me with its premise, hence I had to watch it. Assumably, I thought Heroes is nothing but a glitch, but I was wrong. This is in no way an X-men clone, nor an ordinary product of fiction. It is simply an impressive narration of what could possibly happen in the future, say year 4k, considering the rapid evolution of human technology today.


Hey, there's nothing wrong with being fictionally farsighted, right?

This action packed drama chronicles a set of random everyday people who gradually discover their individual paranormal abilities. The thing that differs this from the one-dimensional supernatural stories is that these characters don't exist as superheroes in which they had to dutifully utilize their superpowers to be always on the good side. As exhibited in the pilot, there are certain characters who aren't necessarily orthodox, say Nikki Sanders, who happens to strip for a living and suddenly became a subconscious killer with the use of her extraordinary prowess. On top of that, this show injects realism in a superb way that would allow viewers to perceive a possible future of superpowers being an organic element in a human's life.

Overall, I'm highly impressed with the direction, writing, and partially, acting too. I liked it and the premiere certainly made me crave for another episode. I will try to watch this on a regular basis, but I'm not sure if this is something I'd be an avid fan of, just like I am with Grey's Anatomy, and currently, Studio 60. But this is definitely a breakout hit of the season, a new program worth of its one-hour timeslot in network television.

On other boobtube chuvaloos...

I can't be more excited for Project Runway 3's finale. I don't read spoilers, although I have to admit that I took a sneak peak at the final four's respective collections (is that even considered a spoiler? Oh well). I believe Deb and I are gunning for the same set of finalists, but since there's a twist (according to them Bravo teasers), we might be getting a four-way showdown, or perhaps a one-on-one. And if that suspended twist wasn't enough torture, there are recent meganews about Laura Bennett apparently accused Jeffrey Sebelia of cheating and/or stealing. Hmm, maybe I was wrong when I said that this season is possibly the sleaziest so far, hehe.

I've been an avid viewer of Desperate Housewives since it premiered a couple of Octobers ago, but season two was beyond disappointing compared to the first installment. However, my faith on televised neighborhood nitty gritty was back on after watching its third season premiere last Sunday. Some new characters debuted, and the pending dramas resumed. What I liked most about the season premiere was the main focus was on Bree's engagement with Orson, who killed his previous wife, and the same person who sent Mike into coma for some mysterious reason. Old storylines -- Susan/Mike, the Solises and Shaomei and the Lynette-Tom-Nora triangle -- overlap one after the other, but not to an extent that it overshadowed the most interesting story of the show, this whole Bree-Orson love affair. With Orson in tow, and a new love interest for Susan, while Mike is still in coma, and Shaomei eventually giving birth, I foresee this season to be more entertaining than ever.

And for those outside of the US, and are interested in watching episodes presently airing here, they are now available online (not for Project Runway, unfortunately). Yeps, no need to wait hours of torrent-ing, hehe. Just click the respective links to the shows above, and voila! Enjoy. =)

So much for a Wednesday afternoon. It's been cold the past few days, which is good, but I've been bored to death. As if you didn't already know that. I've been endlessly voting for Rafael Nadal in this certain poll (help me!!!) to ease this dullness. But I guess I'll play some basketball later, or perhaps cook pasta for dinner. Oh boy, if it weren't for television, I'd be Terrell-Owens-depressed by now. Hahaha, kidding. Whatever happened to that Cowboy, I hope he reconsiders continuing his young life. After all, he was paid lotsa bucks to play for this city. What in the world! I gotta go now. See you later, bitches!

Ermm, politely frank?

If anything in my life has significantly changed over the years, apart from my nicotine exit, it's gotta be my intractable exclusive-girl-school-mean-bitch-syndrome. I didn't grow up with girls mostly surrounding me, but I did hang out with mostly girls in my early years. That said, panlalait or ridiculing has been a habitual pastime for me and my peers. And having a mom who's just as leniently direct rather tolerated my hostile tongue.

In that particular part of the intermediate community, mockery, sarcasm, and panlalait are altogether their 3rd language. You can ask anybody who hail from Poveda, MC, SPC, etc., and I guarantee you, they'd absolutely agree. Maybe because boys weren't obviously around that they had to keep themselves entertained by making fun of the other girls. I still don't know. But although it was somewhat fun, I knew it had to eventually change.

And since I've already put that negative trait in perspective, I'm now in the process of learning how to politely say something unpleasant to people. I know, still sounds bad, but trust me, my intentions are better than that.

For instance, I've got this friend who bought a Paris Hilton perfume, and I think it smells like shit. How can I tell him that it smells awful in a way that he'd never get offended? Should I go, "man, that just stinks!", or "I can't believe you bought this over the Britney one"? Apparently, I'm still in the midst of unattaching my character to that mean girl syndrome, therefore, I can't believe I'm having such a hard time figuring out this simple "dude, you smell incredibly bad" predicament.

And before I get sued or anything, the Paris Hilton perfume situation is just a concrete example. But you know what I mean. It's simply a mere situation when you want to tell a good friend that his new haircut looks like a horrible version of Garth Algar's... and of course, the dilemma that inescapably comes with it.

Honestly, it's just one of the million things trapped in my mouth that I would want to lay all out in the future. But I don't know how! It's not a self-centered gesture though, right? Or is it? I just thought it'd be nice if I could be my old forthright self again, just with a little bit more tact and ethics this time. If I may sound like an inconsiderate narcissistic bitch, I apologize. That's far off what I'm gunning for. Nobody's perfect, who is? But as someone who exists in the same air as my pals breathe in, I can only have nothing but good intentions of sincerely just wanting them to look, smell, speak, think and feel better about themselves.

Christmas Wish #1

Our current digicam is working perfectly, however, there are times that it's at its most uncooperative state, especially when my brother and I are enjoying a live wrestling event. Just like this. Decent shots, perhaps, but we can't just settle for decent, right? Of course you want better and beautiful shots, especially when it's not everyday that you get the chance to be in an event, place, occasion like that.

So, with that, my mother considers buying a new digicam before our soon-ish adventures to the west coast. I initially wanted a Powershot SD800, but I snobbed the idea once I saw that Sharapova ad. Haha, sorry, that's how bad I want to strangle her. And so, I switched my options to Nikon Coolpix S7c, which is also very stylish, btw. However, when I saw Oprah's season premiere earlier this week, and showed that she's using this certain Kodak camera, my mom and I thought that it's gotta be good since Oprah's using it. I forgot exactly what the model was but I searched for a good Kodak cam and I found this.


Kodak Easyshare V705

It's got 7.1 megapix, ultra wide 5x optical zoom range and it comes in pink too! Ugh, gorgeous!

Haha, it's funny, right? I just had a petty fight with my mom a few days ago over a freakin' kabayo, and now we're talking luxuries. *lol* Then again, as Jaz perfectly puts it, she quite needs some serious priority-resorting. But between an ironing board and a new digicam? No brainer, I'll take the latter. =p Happy weekend, everyone!

They're McBACK!

Caution: Fangirl moment ito.

My favorite guilty pleasure is back! Squeeeee! I'm extra enthusiastic about it, no doubt, but what's up with the constant flashbacks? Kinda lost me there, pun intended. Nevertheless, it was a relief to welcome back my Mcfavorite TV show EVER. Seriously!

Hence the new McLayout. Nahawa na ako kay Meredith, haha. I know it's not much different from the previous one, but what the heck, when McDreamy stands in the middle of it all, I just can't ask for anything more. Hahaha! [Note to Kat, and only for Kat: you can download the layout here, have no idea where to send it so there. It's ready to use, just put your haloscan code and edit the sidebar widgets with your info and stuff. (;]

And since I'm already talking about television...

Monday is a busy TV day for this household, brother's a Prison Break freak, father is fond of Howie Mandel's punchable antics, and everybody religiously watches Monday Night Raw. In other words, there's no more space left for yet another program. But I had the chance to see the rookie of the year contender, Studio 60, via its replay telecast on Bravo (thank God for Bravo!). I'll simply say that it's really really good. Brilliant could be an overstatement, but the pilot just brought everything a pilot episode should have, unlike Six Degrees which I unfortunately spent 12 minutes of my time with (to my defense, it immediately followed Grey's Anatomy).


Anyway, Studio 60 is Aaron Sorkin's (A Few Good Men) new masterpiece, and with an Emmy nominated writer in control, you can only anticipate the most creative juices. And he indeed delivered. As I've said, the story of this series revolves around the drama behind a live comedy sketch show which is seemingly much similar to what Sorkin has done in The West Wing's whitehouse. The actors were just as good too. Amanda Peet, who outshone everyone, was just exceptionally flawless in a character that could be all disoriented under pressure in reality which she made look (or more likely as what she was told to do) very calm and professional. Nonetheless, acting, collectively, was very impressive, and overall, a ratings-hogger in the making.

There's another new show that gets heatraves from the critics. Saw the trailer of it, quite intriguing, but it's on a freakin' Monday!!! Why do all the fantastic shows have to be parading during this day? I mean, what about Tuesday next time? Seriously.

Seven Songs

As I've recently said, songs and myself have a lifelong turbulent yet propitious relationship. It has its commonly uncanny ways of swaying my emotions in a certain way or another. However, not all songs were made to compensate strong affection with comfort, but some just exist to entertain, and entertain alone.

I was tagged by Cheh with this relatively easy survey regarding seven songs that I currently enjoy listening to. I actually thought I'll have the hardest time making up my list because I'm very picky with songs and I don't really like most of the pop mainstream nowadays, but good thing the survey only asks me to list seven songs I love, for just whatever reason, and indeed, that's what I'll do.

List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they’re not any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now. Post these instructions in your LiveJournal/blog along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to see what they’re listening to.

Don't Stop Believin' by Journey
Aged rock (not the Metallica kind) never grows old on me. Numerous hits from Styx, Foreigners, Toto, and a few more others are simply ageless to my ears. But this song is just the anthem for me. I mean, who seriously doesn't know this song?

Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen
Don't you just love singing the rock part of it inside the car? Oh gawd, I'm so guilty. I'd even attempt to hit that crazy high note, "for meeee" no matter how bulgy my neck veins get. Hahaha!

Why (cover) by Kelly Clarkson
I love the original, sure, but Kelly's special to me, and without surprise, she did this song justice.

You Learn by Alanis Morissette
I was an Alanis freak in the late 90s, even amidst false reports of her songs being demonic, which was so stupid, btw. As we all know, she has a long list of smash hits back in the day, but You Learn is simply rational, hence it's my favorite.

Gold Digger by Kanye West
I just never get tired of this song, plus the broke-broke dance step is very catchy, ala otcho-otcho. Seriously. You can only imagine my pathetic efforts of pulling it off. *lol*

Somos Novios by Andrea Bocelli feat. Katharine McPhee
Now for the softer side, haha. I appreciate classical music, and Andrea Bocelli is no exception. Obviously, it's in Spanish, but even with my limited espanol, I managed to memorize the lyrics in a matter of 2 days just by repeatedly listening to it. Seriously, it's that beautiful!

Somewhere Only We Know by Keane
Everybody loves a British rock band, seems to be the trend. But I've been a fan of Keane since the emergence of my personally preferred genre, soft rock, or alternative as what it's commonly known. Above all their songs, this one stands out as my ultimate favorite. I just feel like it's sooo me. So me.

DONE! ...On a totally irrelevant note... Apparently, the Blogger commenting system is finally working perfectly. I tested it earlier, commented on non-beta blogs, and it seemed to be working flawlessly. I hope y'all won't have problems here any longer. [source]

Oh, and before I forget.

As always, I'm supposed to tag another seven to do the exact same survey, but I think I've bothered people enough, haha. So just snag it if y'all feel like doing this. Mi casa es su casa. ;)

Planchadora Tales

If anything inside this four-walled cell makes my life less boring, it's gotta be my chore of ironing everyone's clothes in a weekly basis. I don't like it, but once I'm at it, I enjoy it. After all, aircon or heater is always on, I'm sitting down while doing it, infront of the television, and with, occasionally, a bag of chips. In other words, I'm comfortable enough, so I can't really complain.

But for me to keep myself from bitching about it, I gotta have a good set of tools in order to keep up with this recurrent task. I've been complaining about the iron and ironing board, respectively, since last year, but nobody cared to listen. My parents would just go, "pwede pa yan!" motioning for me to continue using them, even if I'm already having a difficult time. But as the uber patient daughter that I naturally am, I did exactly what I was told. I even stopped thinking that they'd ever hear my plea, until my mom used the iron herself in which it suddenly bursted out electric sparks. Told you, it's time for a new one. And so my father got me a new iron to work with.

However, the iron wasn't my only problem. The ironing board's feet which are now severely unbalanced is making the task extra hard for me, and so, I once again tried voicing it out... yet again, to no avail. What did I get instead? A handful of some-some, you know what I mean.

And it unquestionably pissed. me. off.

I love my mother. Sure. But there are certain times when I feel like I act like her age, and she acts like she's me. I told her, in such a desperate tone, that we need a new kabayo, then she unhesitatingly replied, "pagchagaan mo muna 'yan". I would try, had I not been complaining about it for more than a year. That fuckin' kabayo can even barely stand, that's why I've been begging for a replacement. But she wouldn't listen. It's as if the clothes I'm dealing with are all mine, when mostly, it consists of her srubs. And yes. My mom's a nurse, and she can't buy me a freakin' ironing board. I know. She doesn't earn much, right?

I would understand if she's strictly saving some bucks, and wouldn't want to spend on unplanned expenses. I can still wait. But if she can afford to buy plastic flowers through craigslist, then not this useful gadget that can very well benefit the people in this house altogether, we definitely got a problem. It's not like I'm asking her to buy me a plasma tv or something.

Adios, Summer!

In a few days time, Fall will once again be dominant in the annual season rotation, and at last, boring TV season will finally bid bye-bye. These American Idol slot fillers truly made up my most boring Summer yet, and I can't be thankful enough.

Rockstar: Supernova was really good. But. I fuckin' hated the finale. I know, you know, they know. Dilana should have won. So what the hell was that? I don't dislike Lucas as a being, but I think his weekly (or daily) use of make-up is extremely queer, and his performing skills are nothing but epileptic. And he looks like this person I can't stand from the MTV Challenges. In other words, he's not unique as what the show exhibited him to be, whereas Dilana is the entertainer extraordinaire, hence my bulging nerves at the moment. Ugh!!! Hated it. I wouldn't really buy their album, just like how I snobbed INXS last year, but if it were Dilana fronting them, I would have thought twice.


ROBBED!!!

Apart from enjoying the summer fillers, and welcoming the comebacks of the old standards (Anatomy, Housewives, Lost, etc.), there are also some new series worth anticipating.

Everyone's familiar with Betty La Fea, right? I was a huge fan of that show when it was shown in the Philippines a long time ago, hence my over enthused approach to its American version, towed by no less than Salma Hayek (who I adore). Literally translated as Ugly Betty, I got the chance to see a preview of it last night, and shall I say, America Ferrera (popularized by her role in this movie) is such an effective ugly duckling. I won't predict it to be as huge as the other ABC ratings-hoggers, but I think that this is attractive enough, especially for those who are battling image and confidence crises. Gosh, I hope that doesn't sound too harsh, haha, but you know what I mean.



But out of all the upcoming shows, Studio 60 is the obvious favorite, with its torchbearer, Matthew Perry (or Chandler, as he's better known as). The premise of this one is simply put, the behind-the-scene dramajigs of a live comedy show, say Saturday Night Live. Storyline is apparently very captivating, thus the gaganess of critics over it. Seems like with Chandler back on NBC, you possibly can't go wrong. I'm reserving a DVR spot for this potential smash hit.



And can I just insert this? Rafael Nadal during Clay season, or even not, is one of my favorite schedule fillers of all time! Hahaha, I'm obsessed with this man! Freakin' fangirl moment. =))


Long hair. Biceps. Accent. Squee!!!

I'm quite excited for Fall, not just because there's some good TV on the way, but the cleaning will be set aside for the next two seasons. Hahaha, a simple delight for a lazy-assed like myself. Gee. I wish life is too easy that it only consists of watching TV. Sigh.

Stupid American Child.

Just in case you wonder. Title is derived from a Season 2 episode of House M.D. You know, that Chinese kid who brought her sick mom to the hospital just so she could ask for birth control pills, imposing that House wouldn't figure it out? Haha! Well, I think it's somehow relative to the following narration, one way or another. Anyway, this quento somehow resembles this one. But this time, it's totally beyond me. Ugh. Awful!

So we were at the mall last weekend, doing a little shopping. As I lined up to pay, I overhead two Filipino girls chit-chatting with the cashier, casually via their very obvious accent. No, I don't mean to make it sound negatively, but Filipinos have a distinctive way of speaking the language (which is not a bad thing at all), unless you grew up speaking it the American way. Back to the story. These girls were comfortably chattering away, and while the cashier was already doing her job, they briefly talked in Tagalog, which of course, I once again overheard.

Now. My dad and my brother were walking towards me talking rather loudly in our native language. I was waiting for the girls to look behind their shoulders and greet us with a "kabayan!" or "pinoy ka?", the standard greeting notes we get from fellowmen. But no. You know what they did? The pretended to be of another nation's breed, or as if they've been westernized since birth. Started to talk in English ala Amerikano, which was, not to mention, such a ludicrously poor attempt.

They perhaps thought that I'm Mexican or something (which happens to be the case, for always, not that I like it), thus their sudden switch to this laughable disguise right infront of me. But come on now. Yellow skin, straight black hair, chinky eyes, buttoned nose? Who are you kidding? Seriously. I could only cover my head in shame.

In reality, Filipinos who grew up here, or stayed long enough, would eventually lose their congenital accent. However, that happens organically, and needs not to be forced, especially just to put up a show. Hence personally, it's doubtlessly disturbing to witness these people subconciously disregard their race just so they could tell their superficial selves that they truly belong.

She's real!

Admittedly, I'm one of the bazillionettes who suspected the baby Suri to be just another product of a movie actor's fictional mind farts. But looks like we've just been proven wrong. There really is a Suri Cruise!!! Well, duh? Big deal, of course. At least for showbiz aficionados like me. The sum of this Cruise-Holmes intercourse had remained invisible since birth, hence the speculations of it being unreal. But here she is now!!! The real baby Suri!

What did I think, initially? She looks Asian. Crazy? Not really. But after a couple of minutes staring at the picture, and with my brother's opinion abruptly injected in the round thing above my neck, I figured... She's real. Well. Fine. She looks like Tom Cruise. And say, a little bit of the mother. But evs. The fact that she looks Asian is what really scrapped all of what could be a negative response to this current topic of the water cooler. She's adorable. Please.

ETA: About the comment box...

I've been paying attention to everyone who continually gets problems re commenting here. I actually don't know what exactly is going on, but I think this somehow was caused by my switch to Blogger's Beta features. On their behalf, I apologize. I would suggest that you switch to it as well, but I'm afraid you won't like its new thingamajigs. So maybe you can just choose the "other" option when entering a comment for the mean time. I know, sucks big time, but I'm really sorry about it. If I could only revert back to what blogger was like before the stupid changes.

And now for the Tennis geek in me...

I think I just jinxed Rafa's chances of getting further in the tourney. I just went to Austin, and when I came back, I was floored to witness this random Russian shockingly annihilate my favorite. He beat him in 4 fuckin' sets, with the last being 6-1. I still can't believe it! Well, not that it's the end of the world, but I can't help but wonder what could have gone wrong. It was uncharacteristically exhausting to watch him. But what the heck, he's still no.2, still frickin' hot, and I forever love him. So juicy, haha! There's only enough room left for one more upset, and that is for Andy Roddick not making it to the finals. There's gotta be a hottie in there! ((:

I've got another story, but it deserves an entry of it's own. It's so katawa and kainis. Super arte, haha. Til then.

Rainy Days on Tuesdays

And so, the trip to Austin still pushed through, even with the heavy weather almost hindering my long awaited escapade. Aba, I had to rampa at least before this season ends, haha. And I got it, just with an equally volimunous condition. The effin' weather wasn't cooperative at all, it was gloomy from here to there, and it sucked. Big time. Nevertheless, I can't say I didn't enjoy it. After all, The Capitol (the trip's main purpose) is a tourist destination itself. I got to see parts here and there, and around it. Barely satisfying, but not that bad either. If the weather could have been just a little friendlier, sigh, I would have enjoyed the trip immensely. Eff it!

It was a fun experience kodak-ing though. Oh gosh, I'm no expert, please bear with my amateur skills.


The Capitol


Capitol tower ceiling. Brother took this.


Marisco Grill & Grove along 6th St.


And a poor self portrait attempt. Wawa.
You know what ticked me off the most? No, not that I didn't get to take a photo of myself completely, but the fact that I didn't even get to have a single cocktail anywhere on 6th St. That place is like the Session Road of South Texas - I'm from the North, so I'm totally screwed - it's where musicians, comedians, and parties and cocktails come alive each night. It's popular, and seemingly fun, hence my little turmoil. But the rain just sealed it for us. If the sun showed up sooner, we could have stayed over the night. But it didn't, so we headed right back home after a brief 2-hour stay. We didn't even see the fuckin' bat bridge!!! Arghhh.

Pardon my kid-without-a-candy attitude here. I just don't get to go to places like that everyday, and as you may know, I've been severely bored over the past few months, that I needed this trip to at least, remind me that I have an outside world aside from the backyard. Damn. My typing fingers are releasing baloney now. It's 2:47am, it's freezing cold, I got Tennis to watch tomorrow, but I'm yet to yawn, and I'm still mad.

I swear. I will go back to Austin sooner than later. And I will ride that fuckin' duck andventures!

Peanut Butter and Ginobili

I haven't really been paying attention to FIBA that much, well actually, not at all. I've only seen about 4 games which turned out to be a less than enthralling viewing experience than anticipated because of the massive margin of deficits most of the time. But I managed to tune in to this quaterfinals match between USA and Germany. Even with Dirk, being less than spectacular at the time, his gang still managed to give USA a run for its money through the first half. But it was clearer than crystal that the favored team will take the win in the end, hence Big D goes home, once again, empty handed. But looks like he's not conveying an upset alone. To my shock, Greece defeated USA by not 1, not 2, but 6 points! Haha, I never expected that, but consider me ignorant since I haven't really seen the Greeks play altogether. And if that isn't bad enough, Papa Manu is bound to play only for bronze instead of the gold. Bummah! Man, I think my less enthused approach towards the tournament jinxed my favorites. Hahaha, inako e 'no?

While I momentarily disregard my recently restored obsession with basketball, I invited my attention back to my aged fanaticism towards tennis. I know. I know. Sports geek alert. But evs, it wipes boredom off my forehead in lethargic times like this. As I was saying, tennis has been occupying my activity deprived system over the past few days as US Open is currently in progress with, not to mention, a number of sweaty foreign papables. I sound like a pervert. *erase, erase* Um, whatever. As if I can be fake anyway. Yes, these hunkapops are making me excited. Happy? Not in a libidinous manner, you tard! Seriously though, the attractive visuals are definitely magnetic enough for me to sit through it the whole day, but far more than that, I'm really just a huge fan of the sport itself. Honestly. (;

Current favorite? I know, everybody's all gaga over Roger Federer, but I gladly differ. Not that I'm not a fan of the top-seeder, but between him and his rival... Rafael Nadal, hands down. Maybe because Federer strangely looks like my first cousin, and that automatically restrains me from considering him as an eye candy? Or maybe because Nadal is way more expressive to continually release those intensified hot grunts? Fine. I'm a freak! But in all seriousness though, I'm desiring for a Nadal-Roddick finals. Seems to be a distant possibility for now, but who knows, 3rd round is just about to start.

EDIT: I just figured that Rafa and Roddick will eventually be in the same bracket. No chance for a finale as hot as that. But semis wouldn't be bad. I just hope I don't jinx either chances, haha. Agassi exited professional tennis today (Sunday). T'was a teary-eyed moment, but with 8 grandslams in his resume, how can I feel sorrow? And of course, that legendary rival with Pete Sampras can forever be a remembrance alone. He's awesome, he's gorgeous, and I'll miss him sure as heck.

My weekend will be is still jampacked with Tennis, no less. Y'all enjoy yours! (: