Things to do When Waiting in line for an Interview

I missed the morning of Nichi’s birthday last year because I was checking out a certain possibility for my so-called career and how I could earn more while working away from home less.

I thought it was gonna be quick. That I could get back home ASAP and cook those Enchiladas Nichi requested in time for lunch. I was proven wrong. The enchildas were served as an afternoon snack--which doubled as early dinner.

Eventually, I got bored in the queue so I wrote this:

Things To Do When Waiting in Line for an Interview

(A list formulated out of boredom)

1. Clean your nails—or at least check if they are clean. But then be discrete about it.

2. Read anything you can read wherever you are seated.

3. Text anyone who can give you moral support.

4. Check your bag as if you didn’t check it for the last 10 seconds.

5. Stare blankly at anything.

6. Indulge in a chitchat with your seatmates. And if you’re up for it, try to intimidate them. Chances are, they are competition. Hehehe.

7. Smoke or chew candy. Do this if you are bordering on tensed and crazy.

8. Groom yourself. Inside the washroom is recommended.

9. Sleep (?)

10. Make a list like this one.

* * * For those who are up for an interview, good luck!

Someday McDreamy is going to have to Re-wire My Brain

Watching too much (Hollywood) medical dramas wakes up every dormant hypochondriac to most of us who get so involved. But I have always been a repressed hypochondriac so it is only a matter of time before I come up with another ailment to worry about contracting.

I am hoping they find a cure for my alleged disease-to-be so that when the likes of McDreamy open up my brain, they’d know what they are doing.

Until then my nerves have to hold up as I pray that Marty McFly saves the day.

Fruit Cocktail

Some time ago, my good berk, Jo, set off looking for a book by Sandra Cisneros. In her search, she asked bookstore sales ladies, if not the snobby women at STC whose ovaries were being stewed by too much radiation from their photocopiers, that she needed a copy of "The House on Mangosteen.” (I never knew what STC meant. STC is the photocopy center nearest the UPLB gate with copy machines painted orange.)

I am not sure how far Jo had looked before she realized that she had the wrong title. She somehow heard the wrong fruit. Sir Mykel’s next reading assignment was “The House on Mango Street,” not Mangosteen!

It was hilarious!

I have never eaten mangosteen before. Tonight is the first time. Ate said it is just like eating santol. For a while santol was my favorite fruit. Except for its thick bitter/sour inner skin, I loved it. But I don’t know. I ceased playing favorites.

Plus I am not a fan of fruits. I don’t eat a lot of them and I don’t crave them as much as I occasionally crave for junk foods. Bad habit. Kids that’s something you shouldn’t imitate.

I don’t eat coconut. I like food cooked in gata (coconut milk) and I eat niyog (grated old coconut meat) when mixed with kakanin (Now that I don’t know how to translate! Haha!). But I don’t eat coconut or even drink its juice.

And here people thought that UPLB students thrive on buko (coconut) pie—as in they eat it morning, noon and night. But I say, “not true.”

It will be more possible for me to name the fruits I eat than the ones I say no to.

Although I may not appreciate fruits through my tongue and palate, my sense of sight and touch never cease to be amazed on how carefully crafted and unique every fruit is. Just as I told Kate, fruits are proofs that there is a grand designer of everything we see in our world.

The yellow mangoes are juicy yet firm. The green ones are dry and more compact. Lanzones on the other hand have translucent insides, much like lychees. Meanwhile rambutan, unlike lychees have spikes on their skin. Apples are crispy—in the fruit sense. Oranges are made up of pulps grouped together in segments which form a circle. Suha is almost similar if not for its drier pink pulps. Avocadoes have dark skin but bright green creamy insides. Last weekend I saw a fruit which I think came from Malaysia whose skin looked and felt like the scales of a snake. I could go on enumerating more fruits and their respective characteristics just to assert my point but I digress.

At the risk of sounding preachy and all, I would say that whenever I see fruits I am reminded that there is a god.

The effect of my fascination with fruits is similar to how the uniqueness of the human fingerprints affects Kate. And in our chat, we just have to marvel on how each of us is marked differently. Someone up there must be keeping a record of every single of one us. Kind of like how the NBI (or FBI) should. The only difference is the “big guy’s” database is more efficient.

And did you know that zebras’ stripes are unique, too? Just goes to show how encompassing the great galactic record must be.

I enjoyed my mangosteen. I ended up eating three.

Jo was able to read the correct book by Sandra Cisneros. She would not have passed ENG 101: English Prose Writing Class if she didn’t.

Now you see there is a god.

This Post is NOT About The Dark Knight

I will spare my readers (Is pluralizing “reader” necessary?) from another one of those Dark Knight this and that by not writing about the movie despite me appreciating it and finding it as good entertainment.

Oops, forgive me for slipping that note back there.

I just feel lucky that the first movie I ever got to see here in Singapore is a movie worth-remembering.

* * *

At my dead hours here, some ingenious individuals somehow save me by uploading full episodes of TV shows I’d normally watch in a marathon. But I have to make do with what is available to me so even if I have to watch an episode from the 4th season of House in five parts, I don’t mind. (The only problem now is that I cannot find episodes beyond the 7th one.)

If I wasn’t able to follow House, I would hate it altogether. But I guess that’s not the point of the show. House is the foil of all the protagonists we’ve met while growing up. House is grumpy, not at all a gentleman, suicidal, manipulative, harsh—in short House isn’t perfect.

The audience will just have to take pleasure in watching him make a fool of himself with how human he is. And even though House may seem obnoxious at times, he does throw in efforts to keep the integrity of his image.

I just had to chuckle for a scene in the 6th Episode of Season 4 (from 0:24 to 2:05) where House was discussing with his friend, Wilson, how he could be “that guy”—the usual guy who’d look and act stupid for a girl.



And just as Wilson said, every guy could be “that guy”—the person he never expected himself to be.

* * *

Speaking of "that guy," who would have thought that Christian Bale, the actor who plays Batman in The Dark Knight (and Batman Begins), will become “that guy” when he just played a highly righteous and prudent hero everyone is raving about? And when I say “that guy” I meant the guy who’d be arrested for assault as filed by his mom and sister.


So much for separating reality and fantasy.

* * *

Six months ago, we learned that Heath Ledger, the Joker for this year’s Batman franchise, was “that guy”—the guy who’d one day be discovered dead inside his own apartment. Everyone would think that he is special—talented, wealthy and good looking, too. But as it turned out he had his demons to battle with to which he somehow lost by virtue of intoxication “resulting form the abuse of prescription medication.”

I first became aware of Ledger’s existence through the movie Ten Things I Hate About You. During the time it came out, I was in the habit of buying Hollywood entertainment magazines and this Ledger guy was always present, one would just have to discover what the fuss about this Aussie boy was all about.


Heath later nailed a serious spot in Hollywood when he played Mel Gibson’s son in The Patriot. Then he earned a regal status at least in the eyes of his fans when he became Sir William Thatcher in A Knight’s Tale which reminds me how I’ve always wanted to acquire a copy of that movie. I still believe that The Brothers Grimm is a sabotage project to Heath’s gifts. That movie is no good. But no worries, Brokeback Mountain later redeemed what-was-deprived-of-Heath’s-talent in The Brothers Grimm. He earned an Academy, Golden Globe, and SAG nominations for Best Lead Actor thanks to Brokeback. Plus he got to make out with Jake Gyllenhaal, the brother of Maggie Gyllenhaal whom Heath, as the Joker, kills in The Dark Knight.

The Dark Knight is the last movie Heath completed. Dead or alive, everyone would agree how brilliant he was. He was successful in portraying the haunting and disturbing Joker. For that and the explosives he detonated in the film, we can say that he went out with a bang.


But the “joke” part is this: in the last movie where we can get our final glimpse of Heath Ledger from beginning to end (I read that he had a pending movie where another actor or CGI will take over his role) we do not see much of him. All we see is a smudged face of a scarred clown and behind it, a disturbed and probably sad young man.

"Danke" in Singapore is Thank You

The point of order for the day is to NOT eat breakfast. Niña, Kuya Wah’s sister, is treating us for an eat-all-you-can German lunch buffet. It was her birthday last Thursday and she volunteered to sponsor our celebration. Being that we wake up late or at least I do, it was best not to eat anything to make room for the German feast.

On the way to the restaurant, we passed by a monument that closely resembled Manuel L. Quezon’s tower at Quezon Memorial Circle.





Later I learned it was a monument for the civilian victims during the Japanese occupation. I’m thinking that Singapore, too, may have its own set of comfort women. It’s sad.



The German restaurant had a…ahh…German feel. (Way to go with the description!) I was supposed to use the word “Teutonic” but then I am not so sure if I remember history correctly. Anyway, I felt I was inside an old German/Teutonic ship. I was waiting for the “captain” to shout, “ahoy!” or how do they say that in German? (Umm, Ody, a little help here please.)

Then the captain will let out a drunken burp—what with the huge beer tank at the center which extends to the second floor? Someone will have to get drunk soon!


So what does Paulaner München has to offer aside from the white people who populate its seats? Sausages—big, small, sliced, whole, interconnected. Sausages! There are also cold cuts (I’m not sure which type and how many), fresh (authentic) pretzels, wheat bread, clam chowder, various pastas, salads—a wide variety, plenty of cheese (I especially enjoyed the cheese platter!), oxtail (that I didn’t eat), fish, crispy pata-like thing, German dimsum (which I didn’t exactly love), cakes, pudding, tiramisu, Swiss ice cream. That is to name a few. But note that there was no rice. There were mashed potatoes but, for a true blue Pinoy such as myself, rice would have been nice.

Just as expected, busog! I was full to the brim that if I shoved any morsel of food in my mouth, I would surely throw up. But don’t think I didn’t enjoy the meal, er meals. I did. I really did. What a way to experience German cuisine! I guess I have to say “danke” to Niña for the treat.

At the spur of the sleepy and full afternoon moment, Kuya Wah suggested that we go ride the Singapore Flyer. It meant that our stuffed bellies will be airborne at up to 165 meters high (42 stories high). It sounded fun!


A few security checks later (you would think you were boarding an airplane), we were inside one of the capsules of the flyer along with several other tourists. A Pinoy lady guided us into boarding the capsule. I was glad to have bumped to another Pinoy here--another Pinoy, who as she dealt with us, seemed to be proud of her being Pinoy. Mabuti naman.

Being inside the capsule, I realized I can cross out acrophobia in my list of phobias. I can survive heights that I actually look forward to go bungee jumping some time in the future.


My non-fear of heights made me appreciate the aerial view of Singapore. Just like a lot of countries, Singapore is a work in progress. Their government is busy improving their land, finding more reasons to draw in more dollar-bearing tourists. I hope our leaders will go through the same trouble, too. It is possible. Just look at how Subic turned out.

I’m thinking that if there’s anything Pinoys who’ve had the luxury of experiencing the good in foreign countries could to for the Philippines, it will be appreciating the potentials of our 1,107 islands. That will most definitely be a good start.

You need not be a thrill seeker to get inside the Singapore Flyer. It’s not like it rotates fast. Just like the wise, it takes its time in completing a revolution. You’ll have 30 minutes to savor the ride, to make a 360-degree turn, to see Singapore in all directions. And if you stand or sit still long enough, you may find it convenient to ponder on some other things too while up there.







For that, I wish to say “danke” to both Ate Win and Kuya Wah for the free ride and for being my gracious host and family here in Singapore.

Check Out What I Found (Out) Today!

Finds:

…a school/office supplies haven at Suntec Mall called Harris. It’s humongous! There you’ll find a lot of things you don’t really need but you'd think might come in handy someday. (I think that’s exactly how I ended up with a lot of thingamajigs I haven’t used which I had no choice but to leave back home.) But I find comfort in those stuff so now I know where I’d go for my retail therapy if and when I have cash to spend.

…a bowling center nearby! Woo-hoo! As I always say: modesty aside—meaning I am saying it in all honesty—I’m no good at bowling but I lab it!

…the Fountain of Wealth where you should stretch out your arm, reach for the water, and encircle the perimeter three times to get wealthy. I found my way towards it but decided to do the ritual when I was with someone else. Later Ate accompanied me there and took photos (and a video) of me completing the required revolutions. I just hope the rite will work.



…a woman’s figure from a sea of bronze tiles (?) at one of the decorated walls of Citylink Mall.

When I went out with Kate and Erman a couple of weeks ago, I saw a tile at a wall at Dhoby Ghaut interchange which I thought was so gay!

the wall:

the gay tile:

...a Starbucks lady with a tank of iced coffe for a backpack. Her friend was helping her hand out a shot of their coffee. Lucky for us, we were there for the free drinks!



…a ball pool at a kiddie place in Down Town East which resembled the famous dance floor filled with bubbles at Ibiza, Spain. (Too bad, I didn’t think of taking its picture, but just imagine clear balls which look like gigantic bubbles packed in one area and the floor beneath those balls lights up and flashes different colors.)

...stamped ink which can only be seen under black light. The lady marked us on our wrists upon entering __(I keep forgetting the name) Resort. OC alert: how long will the selectively luminous ink stay on my skin and how will I know if I managed to wash it away successfully?

...rows of chalets which a lot of people here rent so that they'd have an extra special place to spend the night and to barbecue. I find it fascinating. The place looks like an outdoor fast food center with smokes and houses with beds.

Find out’s:

…that Hallmark cards here are so expensive: they range from S$ 0.60 to S$ 20. Between You and Me cards which go for Php 26.00 or Php 29.00 in the Philippines are worth S$ 7.50 (around Php 247.50) here. Here Warm Wishes cards (those are the cards with the dimension 122 x 154 mm—hehe!) are worth S$5.50 (Php 181.50) when they are sold for only Php 26.00 in our country. And the thing is, I have an idea on the combined average raw litho cost and paper cost for those products. It will be painful for me to shell out that much money for items which I used to get at 50% less the price, if not for free. But then again Hallmark products here are all imported from other countries. Counter and non-counter Hallmark cards being sold here are from Kansas while the wrappers are from…dandandandan…the Philippines! (Next time I’ll check where the handle bags are made!) Wrappers here cost S$ 1 (Php 33.00) each whereas they are only worth Php11.50 if you buy them at Pinas.


…that I now know how to get to Ate’s office all by myself—no more coaching and instructions needed.

… and, finally, that if I gather my fat, thick lips at one point, I can reduce its size up to half its original length. And my face will look thin, too!

Why do they spend So Much on Boxes?

Every time I open a fresh supply of toothpaste, I get second thoughts whether I am going to throw away the carton or not.

Why do they have to spend so much on toothpaste boxes when it is obvious that people are only after their contents? Sturdy material, embossed letters, and rainbow foil stamping all over the box do make the packaging classy and attractive but they also make it expensive.

I know that it is all part of toothpaste companies’ marketing strategy: to attract customers with their sparkly and colorful product. I get that. But in a more pragmatic point of view, the box ceases to make sense once the consumer decides to start using the toothpaste. When the toothpaste finds its way to the consumer’s teeth, the box then heads to the trash bin. And the cost of the poor expensive box which the consumer shouldered is instantly put to waste.

The way I see it, toothpaste can be sold cheaper if their boxes were simpler.

Plus the nicer the boxes are, the harder they are to throw away.

I could recycle but that will take time. The green people can crucify me now.

I’ve become a Postie!

It is how we, bloggers for PayPerPost (PPP) are called. Postie.

I have always wondered how I could make money out of blogging since I am one of those people whom you may call “netizen” anyway. I spend inordinately long hours on the net. Most of the time it is due to my blog. It is quite addicting maintaining and updating one’s blog. I guess the time has come for me to get the most out of my life lost in cyberspace.

Apol, my sister’s friend, suggested PayPerPost. I went and saw for myself what PayPerPost has to offer and viola! Here I am now, a fellow Postie.

I tend to be a moron when it comes to the ins and outs of HTML and the gang but PayPerPost is relatively easy to understand. You would not worry about being in the dark. I know that in no time, I, too, will be an expert on this.

I am pretty much optimistic about the potentials, not to mention the perks, of being a Postie. Besides, I really need extra cash these days, if only to pay some of my bills.

As I have said before, I blog for the love of it but I really don’t mind getting paid.

Therefore, I don’t mind being Postie.

A Year Up There

Today, Nichi turns one in heaven.

Here’s a moment of remembering his 13 wonderful years with us. (Please click button below.)

* * *
A message from our dad:

Our dear friends,

This Thursday, July 24, will be a year since our Nichi left us to join the angels in heaven. You all have been part of his life and our family’s life. Allow us to thank you again for all the things you have done for Nichi and for being there when we felt we were alone.

A family friend, Kate, an artist, collated Nichi’s pictures and assembled it into a 30-page album that tells the story of his 13 short but memorable years on earth. We would like to share this to all of you. (Please click on button above.)

May the God Almighty Bless you and your family and keep you all in good
health.

Always,

willie, tess, windale, warren, tyrene, jowin, migs & yzee

* * *
This is how Nichi described himself in his friendster account:

About Me:

malakas kumain laging nag-iisip,gusto ko lagi akong may ginagawa,mas gusto kong naglalaro kasama ang aking mga kaibigan,gusto ko rin ako ang bumibili ng mga gusto kong mga gamit,tamad akong maglakad ng mga mahahabang lakaran,mas gusto kong mahaba ang buhok ko.

* * *

Nichi, sana masaya dyan. Lab ka namin. Lab kita. I miss you. Enjoy ka lang dyan!

If we can see Nichi now, he'd be smiling back at us.

Nichi

(1994-2007)

The bravest person I know. He passed away with a smile on his face because he knew all will be well. He had been a good boy til the end and he knows that someone higher and more powerful than us has reserved a perfect spot for him in paradise.

Win Some, Lose Some

In life we win some, we lose some.

I always start with the bad news. In that manner, there is a way of bouncing back.

The bad news is I got rejected for the 2nd time for my EPEC application. And there I was relatively confident that this time, I did things correctly.

The good news is PayPerPost just approved my application. Expect sponsored entries from me soon.

I’m not a sell out for trying to indulge to mercenary blogging. I just need cash, that’s all.

I’ve lost some. I really need to win some. Quick!

When Sadness Strikes

My happy-level went low today. And for that, allow me to speak in my native tongue.

Hindi naman kasi ito Elbi. Na kung na-homesick ka na, mag-aabang ka lang ng bus na pa-Cubao sa may Olivares. Na kung atat na atat ka nang umuwi, pwede mong iharang ang sarili mo sa bus para lang huminto ito, aura mismo.

Hindi ito Elbi. Na kung bored ka na, lalakad ka lang sa Grove, ma-eentertain ka na ng buong LB community. Na kung nababaliw ka na, pwede mong kahulan ang asong dumadaan sa harap mo. Na kung gusto mong mag-emote, pupunta ka lang sa field, Carabao Park, o sa likod ng Lib.

Hindi naman kasi ito Elbi. Na kung gusto mo ng makaka-mingle, tatambay ka lang sa Hum steps. Na kung nangungulila ka sa company ng pamilya, may berks na dadamay sa iyo. Na kung wala kang makausap, uupo ka lang sa L-bench, makakahanap ka rin ng ka-chika.

Hindi ito Elbi. Na kung nararamdaman mo ang emptiness ng dorm mo, pwede kang mag-jeep papuntang F.O. at mangatok ng dorm sa Chino’s. Na kapag sad ka, stressed, o nag-p-PMS lang, pwede kang mang-crash ng ibang dorm at saka mag-moment.

Hindi nga kasi ito Elbi.

What's Cooking inside Battik's Kitchen?

Ginisang Ampalaya that’s what! I hate to call it sautéed bitter gourd. It seems to take away the personality of the whole dish. (At this point, I wish to thank Ms. Salgado, my teacher in T.H.E., for teaching us that ampalaya is bitter gourd.)

I haven’t cooked anything in a while. I actually think my magic in the kitchen has ebbed. I used to whip up decent meals out of available materials in our kitchen. Then I took a step back. Why? That'll be another story. I am excited about this dish for one simple reason, I am documenting it here. For everyone!

Ginisang ampalaya is so easy to prepare. It may only take 20-30 minutes. But I am a slow cooker—I do a lot of segues—so it usually takes me at least an hour.

With this dish and blog entry, I am glad to add a new compartment to my blog. I’m calling it “battik’s kitchen.” It really has nothing to do with what is in my sister’s blog, A Mummy’s Kitchen. Actually, this entry is inspired by Nikka’s Confessions on a Kitchen Floor which displays way more sophisticated recipes that do her chef’s uniform justice. Partly Meowbykate influenced me, too, with her piece on spaghetti. So did JDWorld with the posts on his latest culinary ventures.

The demi ingredients of this dish are chopped garlic, cubed onions (or diced if you want them to be barely there), and cubed tomato. Although supporting characters they may seem, they are key players, too. Because they are the ones that make this dish ginisa in the first place. And handling them is pretty simple. You just have to throw them in the pan one after the other.

I’m in a perky mood today having been able to e-mail some of the people I’ve worked with. You’ve got to keep in touch, you know? It’s one of the basic things in life we sometimes take for granted. After slipping out of the habit of erasing myself from people’s lives every so often, I’ve come to realize how vital it is stay connected especially to people who, at one point in our lives, mattered to us. Because maintaining relationships makes our being human special in the first place. It isn’t very difficult, really. We only have to throw in a piece of ourselves here and there from time to time.

Shrimps can do wonders to ginisa. They are capable of making your dish rich. Peel off the shells of some shrimps—how many? You’re the boss! You’re the one who’s going to eat your creation anyway. Me, I take time in dolling up my shrimps. I cannot go near raw shrimps without deveining them. Yes, it is a bit tedious but I enjoy the whole process. It makes the shrimps look better when cooked.


Day 31 in Singapore is pretty much promising for me. I am in the proactive mood to find that perfect job that will hopefully make my bank account rich. Yes, it is a good strategy to send out a million resumes a day, but I also take the time studying what I am trying to get myself into. It is a slow process, reading one company profile after another, but it makes applying for a job more heartfelt than simply clicking “quick apply.”

Make sure you do not throw away the shrimps’ shells without getting the most out of them. They’re not all stinky rubbish, you see. I once saw on Discovery Channel that in Japan, they clean up shrimp shells, add a certain chemical to it, melt the shells and turn them into plastic. Good news: You need not go through those troubles for Ginisang Ampalaya. You just have to crush the shrimp shells (head included), submerge in water, then strain to get the juice which will serve as the sauce for your dish. The good stuff is in the stock, throw away the exhausted and crushed shells as they might rip your throat if you eat them.

Add the shrimp stock into the now, aromatic concoction inside your pan. Allow it to simmer, if not boil.


Among the, say, millions of resumes I send out in a day, 2% will bounce back, 13% will send me an acknowledgement letter to let me know they received my mail, 14% will tell me they were flattered I applied but they don’t think they’d be needing my services, while 71% will keep me in suspense and, chances are, half of them I will never hear anything from. The other half will hopefully call me in for an interview. Hopefully. Going through a strainer of blatant and silent rejections will leave a dent mostly on my ego, but I’d rather concentrate on the good stuff—the probable light at the end of my tunnel. And if the light is promising enough, I wouldn’t mind being crushed for a while.

Now the star of our show can do its majestic entrance. Welcome, big old bitter gourd!

Our Pinoy ampalayas are smaller so you may want to use more than one fruit. I discovered that my dad and I are the same in that when we see produce—fruits and vegetables—which are bigger than they are supposed to be, we say, “GMO.”

Since the ampalaya I used is pretty big, I opted to divide it in three small parts before I cut it in half. Once the insides of the fruit (?) is exposed, you can scrape off the seed using a spoon. Get rid of the seeds and don’t hesitate to wash what-is-left-of-your-ampalaya.


Next, slice your ampalaya thinly, but if you want them thick, then go ahead! Most people hate ampalaya because of its distinct bitter taste. My parents have a way of reducing the bitterness…of the ampalaya. You rub salt at the sliced ampalayas. I think diffusion has something to do with it. Eventually the salt will suck away the bitterness, or the ampalayas will suck in the saltiness. Either way, you end up lessening the strong bitter flavour.

Perhaps that’s just how things are. They can be distinctly bitter at times but with a bit of remedy here and there, miserable can turn into fine. People can actually live with it. Besides, where is the fun in living if we get everything sweet? Right?

Ampalayas in Singapore aren’t sweet but they are not very bitter, either. Not much challenge for masochist bitter seekers. So with the one I’m using, I skipped the usual salt-rubbing step. All I had to do next is to pop my sliced ampalayas inside my simmering pan. Tatay Cinto once strictly instructed me never to stir ampalayas while cooking. According to him, it’ll make the dish intolerably bitter.

Makes sense. When everyone’s in heat, it will be wise not to shake things up any further; otherwise you may end up sorry.

When everything inside your pan is simmering, you can add your final ingredient, the perennial beaten eggs. It makes your creation a whole lot tastier.

I talked to my dad today. Although he was there to watch his apo (not from me—apo from my Ate), it is comforting to be reminded that whenever I feel bland and unimportant, I’ll always have my parents to think I am special.

When your instincts tell you that your dish is almost ready, you can start adding in your spices. Salt and pepper, in moderation, always work. Doing taste tests are also good.


I re-applied for an EPEC. And although the possibility of getting rejected may shake me up again, EPEC is just a spice of life. It’s not like my world revolves around it. But I had to try again and hope that this time, it'll work.

Bring everything into a simmer. And viola! It’s done! Sooner or later, it will be done.


Place your creation on a decent plate and enjoy!



I am not one of those people who have extra taste buds that make a food connoisseur. I just eat. I prepare my meals the best way I can with whatever passion I can muster and hope that my masterpiece is a success.

And today, it almost is.