B.M.I

that's short for Baboy Mo Ini? huh????

No. Just kidding.

Last Friday my former Professor and former research boss said i look better because I seem to be gaining weight or at least showing signs of it. That has yet, however, to be righfully judged by the weighing scale (which i don't have) and by the fit of my pants around the waist and hips (which remains to be comfortably loose somehow). 

Gogol hasn't been gaining any weight of the late. hell, he hadn't gained any weight for this whole year. The scale is somehow stuck to around 10-10.5 kilograms when he jumps in it. 

Because of this (why do i feel i always give some sort of a rationale to every thing i do?? hmmm...), while waiting for my money to be dispensed by the teller at the bank a light bulb flashed on top of my head <*<*TA DING!*>*> So when i arrived at the office i "good posturedly" sat on my ergonomic albeit unstable chair and tapped away. actually it was more of googled "proper weight gain for toddlers" which resulted to some list which didn't satisfy me because i wanted a matrix. a matrix of the ideal weight for boy toddlers or boy pre-schoolers because baby center said my baby boy automatically turned preschooler when he turned two. so i asked google for different things. this time: "ideal weight for toddlers", then "growth chart for male toddlers" until it led me to this (YES THIS IS A LINK THAT YOU CAN CLICK AND A WINDOW OR A TAB WILL AUTOMATICALLY OPEN YOUR DOORS TO THIS SITE I'M TELLING YOU OF SO click click on this. NO, i'm just kidding. But you can click if you want).

Hokay.

after a few erroneous calculations from one site, making gogol a fat, overweight toddler. i jumped into another site which gave me the same evaluation: gogol is obese. HOW CAN GOGOL BE OBESE???? he just lost a kilo of weight from a diarrhea episode last december!

with patience (...is like bread i say i ran out of that yesterday -- which is not entirely true because kitoy and i were practically home alone on february 2 and 3 -- no little gogol to make us crazy) (or maybe that guns n' roses song, if you're old enough to remember). After 10 years, the computer finally got it right and gogol was found out to have a perfectly healthy weight with a BMI at fourteen-point-something. 

and i went to check mine.

and it was a disppointment.

although it did not really feel like a failing grade for an undergrad thesis (but i don't know how that really should feel becasue 1.25 ya akon undergrad thesis!!!!!!). more like i thought i.... feeling. 

but still i said i will go back to being vegetarian having been off of it for the last in mid-2006 up to the present. that also had something to do with gaining weight during pregnancy. But eating pork and beef and chicken didn't jolt the scales even a bit, especially when i was breastfeeding.

Here is the evidence that i am indeed, underweight. (but i think the discrepancy may lie in the height because i'm actualy a 5.1 something something and not a 5.2). 

Results

For the information you entered: Calculate again: English | Metric

Height: 5 feet, 2 inches Weight: 100 pounds Your BMI is 18.3, indicating your weight is in the underweight category for adults of your height. Talk with your healthcare provider to determine possible causes of underweight and if you need to gain weight. BMI Weight Status Below 18.5 Underweight 18.5—24.9 Normal  25.0—29.9 Overweight 30.0 and Above Obese

---

Page last reviewed: June 20, 2008
Page last updated: June 20, 2008
Content Source: Division of Nutrition, Physical Activity and Obesity, National Center for Chronic Disease Prevention and Health Promotion

HOKAY so the image doesn't actually work so you check it here: http://www.cdc.gov/nccdphp/dnpa/healthyweight/assessing/bmi/adult_BMI/english_bmi_calculator/results_underweight.htm?pounds=100&inches=62

gogol and the birthday ham

(introduction by his wonderful nanay)

Gogol turned 2 today. He was born on January 26, 2007 at 9:19 pm at a private hospital near the university where his nanay and tatay went to high school and post bachelor. Because he was born at night, technically, he’s not 2 yet. But because today is 26 and he was born on the 26^th of…okay, okay I will stop trying digressing here.

and now i let me introduce you...dyarannnnnnnnnnnnnn! 

the BIRTHDAY HAM!

I couldn't believe it.  I'm left frozen for a minute. "Was it really the ham that i thought it was? I thought this was Kiko DInot's property? Now why is it on the table on my birthday and why am i made to pose with it for a birthday picture? with a birthday ham? HMMMMM..."

 YES, IT IS THE HAM! THE BIRTHDAY HAM!

He then broke into a smile. Look at Gogol smiling at the ham. He never smiled to a ham that way before.

In my excitement I almost talked to the Ham, well, i actually did talk to the Ham. I said, "Hello Ham, are you really the ham that i thought you were? From what part of the pig were you? Are you a happy ham or a sad ham? were you fed nicely and given adequate space to move around or were you just given enough antibiotics for the bacteria and other pathogens not to spread around?". Of course the Ham didn't answer back. What do you think this is? Some fantasy story? No, this is just a post, like nay ordinary regular blog post. Only that it features a Ham. 

A birthday Ham. but we'd like to think this is a happy ham that came from a happy pig.

The birthday ham is actually a christmas ham left frozen in kika faye’s fridge for almost a month.But because Gogol is not much of a cold cuts eater, his Manang Nening prepared some viand of vegetable (squash, saluyot, okra, kulitis, balagay/kamaluson, and sometimes malunggay leaves, with a pinch of salt and some water, his favorite) and dried squid, especially for him. 

But what do you do when you see a ham? Aside from talking to it of course, just as I did. YOU POKE IT! of course! What else do you do? Wait for it to bear fruits? ham fruits, of course. We can't expect a ham to bear mangoes, can we? 

Nanay did a good job. This is nice and tender ham, er, birthday ham. Leftover from Christmas. From Kika pingping.

And give it a good pinch. Like that. Good, good. Nanay is a good housewife material. Now she'll kill me if she reads this.

Then like any ham connoiseur you inch your fingers into one small slice. "How many are there? One, two three four...now that's just enough for my little stomach to handle. I'd like to think this is panchetta, not a leftover christmas ham..."

VOILA!! A smooth ham-poking, ham-pinching and ham-picking experience! If only i know how to get this into my small mouth without any mess...

Oh god, I'm sorry. Does that look like murder? Look at my sorry face.

Happy birthday Gogol, i mean to MYSELF!!

to post or not to post

TO POST OR NOT TO POST...

that is da question:

but i chanced upon this creative (hokayyyyyyyyyyyy) non-fiction first-rate comedy.

basaha nyo nalang bala.

Read this...

ONLY IN THE PHILIPPINES...FUNNY BUT TRUE STORY.


Dear Joey,

Kumusta sir. Naalala mo pa si Jolnir? Yung anak kong gustong pumasok
saMcCann? May nakakatawang storing nangyari sa kanya. Nang nangailangan si Jol ng TIN ay ginawa siyang pingpong ball ng BIR. So isinulat niya
yung BIR experience niya tapos nilagay niya sa internet. Biglangkumalat. Last time I heard ay nasa L.A.na .

Anyway after 3 days sa internet ay nabasa ni BIR Commisioner Parayno yung story. Pinadalhan kaagad si Jol ng TIN card via mail. Ang bilis.
Ang maganda pa nito ay nag-email kay Jol yesterday si Bart Guingona.Gusto raw nilang gawing play. Tuwang tuwa si Jol. Sabi ko nga ay ang agang dumating ng 15 minutes of fame niya.

Anyway here's his original story:

ADVENTURES SA KAWATANAN NG RENTAS INTERNAS
ni Jol Ong

Okay. So natanggap na ako nung November sa NCCA bilang researcher.
Contract employee lang. 3 months. May Yearbook project kasi sila at kailangan ng extrang tao. Okay lang ang bayad, kaso may 10% withholding tax, at siyempre, dapat may Tax Identification Number ako.
So tinanong ko yung boss ko-"Sir, di po ba yung employer ang maglalakad ng TIN ng employee?"
Sagot ni bosing- "Di ka kasi regular employee kaya dapat ikaw ang maglakad ng TIN mo."

Assurance nung assistant ni bosing- "Okay lang yan, one-time hassle lang yan."

Alaako problema. Sige, ako maglalakad ng TIN ko. Tutal, ano ba angworst case scenario? Mahabang pila? Red Tape? Naknamsiomai, sanay
naman ako sa UP e- kuhaan ng classcards, pila sa registration, pila sa
graduation, etc. Ako rin naman ang naglalakad ng registration ng
beetle ko, at sa pagrerenew ko ng lisensya, so okay lang. Sabi ni
bosing, dun daw ako mag-apply ng TIN sa BIR Main, sa may QC, para mas
konti ang pila. May BIR din naman sa labas ng Intramuros, walking
distance para sa mga sanay maglakad, pero mas konti raw ang tao sa
Main.

So, sige, nagpaalam ako, isang araw mag-aabsent ako para lakarin yun.
Dun ako sa Main, dahil malapit lang sa amin, tapos planoko, dadaanan
ko yung ilang research materials sa UP. Solve!

Pagdating ko sa BIR Main, nagulat nga ako dahil wala ngang katao-tao.
Ni wala akong nakitang pila, maliban lang dun sa pila sa harap, dahil
tsinecheck nung sekyu yung bag ng mga tao. Nung pagpasok ko, wala pala
silang TIN forms. Wow. Naubusan ng TIN Forms ang BIR Main. Hanep.
Tinanong ako nung lalaki sa desk kung para saan yung TIN application
ko, sabi ko, para sa work. Tinanong kung saan ako nagtatrabaho, sabi
ko sa Intramuros.

"Dun ka mag-apply sa Intramuros." sabi nung lalaki.

"Di po ba puwede talaga rito?"

"Hinde, kasi sa Intramuros ka e, sila ang may hawak sa 'yo."

Okay lang, although medyo naburat ako sa efficiency nila. Ibig kong
sabihin, wow, Main BIR sila tapos una, naubusan sila ng TIN Forms,
pangalawa, ewan, ang laki-laki ng saklaw nilang lugar, ang laki-laki
ng mga building nila, tapos hindi nila ako ma-accommodate.

Taragis, e malamang sa kanila rin naman mauuwi yung records ko kung
sa BIR Davao BIR Batanes ako mag-apply, dahil tutal, Main sila e, di
ba?

So ala na akong magawa, ala rin silang TIN Forms, so useless din kung
magprotesta pa ako dun.

So pumunta na lang akong peyups ( U.P.) for official business, for
the first time. Hehehe!

Pagpasok ko sa work, sinubukan kong lakarin yung TIN application ko
sa BIR sa labas ng Intramuros, yung malapit sa port area. Pag-akyat ko
sa taas,hinanapan ako ng certificate of employment, at barangay
clearance. At dahil walang nagsabi sa akin na kailangan ko nun, lalo
na yung lalaki sa BIR Main, wala akong bitbit na requirements.

Pagbalik ko sa opisina, inexplain ko sa bosing namin yung problema.
Nakatingin sa akin yung bosing ko na parang nawe-weirdohan din at di
maintindihan yung paghihigpit ng BIR. Lintek, sabi nga nung isang
workmate ko, the fact na nag-apply na ako for TIN, dinedeclare ko na
sa gobyerno na puwede na nilang kupitan, err, kaltasan ang maliit kong
suweldo. Ako na nga ang magbibigay ng pera sa kanila, ako pa ang
hinihigpitan.

Tanginang gobyerno yan, kahit kailan talaga pahirap sa mga tao.
Anyway, pag-aaralan pa raw nila kung mabibigyan nila ako ng
certificate of employment. Yung barangay clearance, ako na ang
maglalakad. Plano kong bumalik ulit sa BIR Main. Hindi ko na lang
sasabihin na sa Maynila ako nagtatrabaho.

Yung ninang ko na may business, binigyan ako ng TIN Forms. Form 1901,
take note. Para sa mga regular employees. May pipirmahan sa likod ang
employer ko. After nito, dumiretso ako sa barangay hall namin para sa
clearance. Hiningan ako ng CV para sa file. Medyo naiirita na ako sa
puntong ito. Isipin mo naman kung gaano ka-hassle ang buong prosesong
ito, para saan? Para gawin ko ang aking role bilang mabuting mamamayan
sa pagbabayad ng tamang buwis?

Anyway, tinanong ako nung babae sa barangay hall kung may TIN daw
ako. Nafafalo ako sa noo ko.

Whoooooo!!! I LOVE THIS COUNTRY!!!!!

Okay! So may clearance na ako! Humingi na ako ng certificate of
employment sa bosing ko, at pinapapirmahan ko na siya sa likod ng Form
1901 ko. Kaso sabi niya, hindi raw puwede kasi wala ako sa roster of
employees ng NCCA. Project employee lang ako e. So tinanong ko kung
puwede ibalik yung mga kaltas sa akin, tutal ala naman akong TIN e, at
ayaw akong bigyan ng BIR, kaya pu@#$%*na sila, di ko bibigay pera ko
sa gobyerno! Ang problema, hindi raw puwede yun. Tuloy-tuloy ang
kaltas sa suweldo ko. Kapag hindi raw kasi kinaltasan, sila raw ang
malilintikan kapag nag-check ng expenses ang NCCA, makikitang hindi
binawasan ng suweldo ko. So tinawag ngayon yung isang accountant ng
NCCA para tulungan kami sa aming munting problema. Hindi rin
maintindihan nung accountant kung bakit hinihigpitan ako ng BIR.

Putsa, ako na nga ng magbibigay ng pera sa gobyerno, may gana pa
silang magpakipot. Sabi nung accountant, yung kinaltas sa akin,
mapupunta pa rin sa gobyerno, may TIN man ako o wala, at hindi sa
bulsa ng kung sinoman sa NCCA.

Well, dadaan muna sa gobyerno, sa BIR, bago mauwi sa bulsa ng isang
congressman, pero technically, alang problema dahil pagkahaba-haba man
ng prusisyon, sa simbahan pa rin ni s~tan~s ang tuloy. Ang difference
bale, kapag may TIN ako, dinedeclare ko lang na sa akin galing yung
kakaning-ibon na baryang portion ng pang-tip ni Mr.Congressman sa
p*kpok niya sa Pegasus. Otherwise, mula kay Mr. Anonymous yung
pang-tip niya.

Advise sa akin, sabihin ko na lang na freelance writer ako. Tutal,
may kaltas din naman daw kapag nag-freelance ka sa mga diyaryo. Tapos
i-assert ko raw na ako na ang pagbibigay ng pera sa kanilang mga letse
sila kaya dapat bigyan pa nila ako ng libreng chocolait at biskwet out
of gratitude mga hayop silang mga impakto sila.

Okay. So bumalik ulit ako sa BIR Main. As usual, ang pila lang ay
yung sa harap, kung saan nagtse-check yung sekyu ng bomba sa mga bag
ng mga tao. Anyway, babae na yung nasa desk ngayon. Pinakita ko na
yung baranggay clearance ko, at yung accomplished Form 1901 ko. Nung
tinanong sa akin kung saan ako nagwowork, inexplain ko na freelance
writer ako kaya wala akong regular employer, kaya walang nakapirma sa
likod. Okay?

Okay. Hinde. sabi nung babae, since hindi ako regular employee, ibang
form dapat ang finill-up-an ko. At bigla siyang naglabas ng Form 1902
at binigay sa akin.Whew, kinabahan ako dun a. Yung Form 1902, sabi
niya, ay para sa mga "mixed-income individuals," para sa mga taong
hindi regular ang kita-professionals, businessmen, at sabi niya,
freelance writers.

Okay! Fill-up dito, fill-up dun, okay lang!!! Magkakaroon na ako sa
wakas!

Inaabot ko na sa babae yung Form 1902! Eto na...

"Ummm, okay na? Ngayon, punta kayo sa West Ave.....Branch namin."

Nanlaki ang mata ko. Wow, nasira agad ang aking moment of triumph.

"Err! , hindi po ba puwede rito sa Main?"

"Hinde, kasi sa Project 6 ka nakatira. West Ave. Branch namin ang may
hawak sa inyo."

Naramdaman ko, parang umiikot-ikot ang paligid ko. Parang gumagaan
ang ulo ko, nanglalambot at naghihina ang tuhod ko. Bigla kong
naramdaman ang isang matinding pangangailangan na i-headbutt ang
kausap kong babae sa desk. Sa halip na isang headbutt, nagtanong na
lang ako.

"Puwede po bang ibang tao na lang ang maglakad nito para sa akin?"

"Oo, gawa ka ng authorization letter..."

Ah! Paraakong nabunutan ng tinik sa dibdib! Fafalakad ko na lang ito
sa nanay ko. hehehe. Paglabas ko, marami pa ring tsinecheckan ng bomba
sa bag sa harap. Ngayon alam ko na kung bakit. Ako rin gusto ko rin
silang bombahin. Hindi ko pa rin mawari, nung araw na yun, kung ano pa
talaga ang purpose ng BIR Main.

Nakangsiomai, dun sa maliliit na branches nila, siksikan ang mga tao,
milya-milya ang pila. Sa Main, ang lawak-lawak, pero di sila
nag-a-accomodate ng applications!

Sa kasamaang palad, hindi ako nakapagsulat ng authorization letter,
at masyadong busy ang nanay ko para ilakad ang TIN ko. Anyway, sabi
niya sa akin, may kaklase yung tita ko sa BIR West Ave. Kapag nagipit
ako, hanapin ko na lang yun. Okey.

Sige. Isa pa, may Form 1902 na ako, baranggay certificate, at yung
excuse ng aking pagiging freelancer. Pila lang siguro ang problema,
pero okay na. Putsa, dapat okay na.

At nakarating din ako, isang araw, sa BIR West Ave.

Sa second floor sila nag-oopisina sa isang building. Masikip yung
elevator dahil sa dami ng tao. Narating ko na rin yung desk para sa
TIN. Nung chineck nung babae dun yung papeles ko, hinanap nila yung
pirma ng employer.

"Ay. Wala po. Freelance Writer po ako e."

Napatingin sa akin yung babae, tinitigan ako sa mata na wari'y
tinitimbang ang mga salitang aking nasambit...

"Ano yung Freelance Writer?"

Nafafalo ako ulit sa noo.

"Ma'am, freelancer po ako. Wala po akong regular na sahod.
Binabayaran ako per article na sinusulat ko. Hindi po ako regular
employee kaya wala akong certificate of employment."

Nung makitang Form 1902 ang dala ko, sinabihan pa akong maling form
ang bitbit ko, kaya inexplain ko pa na nanggaling na ako sa BIR Main,
na Form 1901 ang dala ko dati pero sabi dun, mali raw ang 1901 para sa
akin kaya binigyan ako ng 1902 dahil freelance writer ako, at inirefer
ako sa branch nila.

Nakatitig sa akin yung babae, ninamnam ang bawat salitang sinambit
ko...

"Ano yung Freelance Writer?"

Okay! Kulang ka ba sa iodized salt?!!

Ipinaliwanag ko ulit kung ano ang freelance writer, at nakatingin pa
rin siya sa akin na tila nambubullsh~t lang ako.

"Punta ka na lang sa Officer of the Day."

"Umm. Saan po yun?"

"Sa Seventh Floor."

1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9...10... ayan... kumakalma na ko...
NAKANANGTOKWA!!!! ANG DAMING TAONG NAKAPILA SA ELEVATOR!!!
$#@*^%$%#!!!!!!!!

Alang choice, tumakbo ako paakyat sa hagdanan mula 2nd patungong 7th
floor. Hingal na hingal ako nang lapitan ko ang Ofiicer of the
Day.

"Ma'am, pinaakyat po ako mula sa second floor..."

At ipinaliwanag ko yung nangyari, mula yung pagpunta ko sa BIR Main,
hanggang sa pagpunta ko sa ibaba kanina.

"Umm... at anong gusto mong gawin ko?"

Gumuho muli ang mundo ko, pero buti na lang may upuan sa likod ko.
Ipinaliwanag ko ulit.

"Oo nga. Sa second floor ang application ng TIN. Bakit ka pinaakyat sa
akin?"

Halos nagmamaka-awa na ako.

"Ma'am, ala po ba talaga kayong magagawa?"

At inilahad ko ulit yung masasayang adventures ko sa BIR Main, sa
BIRPort Area, sa BIR Main, at sa BIR nila. Awa ng diyos, may kinuhang
chart yung ale, hinanap yung kategorya ko. Nung makuha yung code,
sinulat niya sa isang espasyo sa 1902 ko, sabay tatak.

"Ayan. Okay na yan."

Namagandai ako. Sincere!!! Halos mapaihi na ako sa tuwa. Matatapos
na!!!
Kaso, putsa, ang daming taong naghihintay sa elevator. Walang choice,
takbo ulit ako sa hagdanan pababa.Pagdating dun, lalaki na yung
nakaupo sa desk. Pinakita ko ulit yung mga papeles ko.

"Saan ang Certificate of Employment mo?"

Nammannnnn!!!! Ano ba'to? Twilight Zone? Napasok ba ako sa isang loop?

"Bosing, hindi po ako regular employee e. Freelance writer po ako."

"Ano yun?"

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

At ipinaliwanag ko ulit kung ano ang freelance writer, at ikinuwento
ko yung episode kanina, at yung episode sa BIR Main, etc.

"Ito kasing Form na ito, itong 1902, para sa mga may negosyo ito e."

"E yan po ang binigay ng BIR Main sa akin, dahil hindi regular ang
sahod ko!"

"May mayor's permit ka ba?"

Pikon na pikon na ako nun kaya hindi ako natawa, pero, talaga ,
grabe, comedy ito, men. Wow.

"Hindi ko po kailangan ng mayor's permit! Writer lang po ako!"

Ineksamin ulit nung lalaki yung papeles ko.

"Ummm, propesyunal ka ba?"

"Opo."

"Anong propesyon mo?"

"Writer po."

"May lisesnsya ka ba?"

Sa isip ko- "HU-WAAAAAAATTTTTT!!!??"

Kung kumain ako ng bulalo kanina, malamang na-stroke na ako ngayon.

"HINDI NYO PO KAILANGAN NG LISENSYA PARAMAGING WRITER!!!"

Sabay follow-up ko ng:

"ANO BA KAYO? AKO NA MAGBABAYAD NG TAX SA INYO, PINAPAHIRAPAN NYO PA
AKO!!!"

Deadma si lalaki. Nakatingin pa rin sa papeles ko, iniisip kung ano
gagawin. Kung pinapunta pa niya ako ulit sa Officer of the Day,
i-he-headbutt ko na'to talaga. Buti na lang-

"O sige, irereceive ko ang forms mo, pero ang alam ko dapat may
kasamang papeles pa ito e. Pumila ka na lang dun..."

*haaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy.......*

Kaso, sobrang haba ng pila, at sa takbo ng mga pangayayari ngayon,
ayoko nang maghintay ng isa't kalahating oras para lang mag-replay ng
kuwentong kung ano ang freelance writer, at kung bakit hindi ako
regular employee.

Lumabas ako, pumunta ako sa corridor. Pikon na pikon. Tinawagan ko
nanay ko, tinanong ko yung pangalan ng kaibigan dati ng tita ko sa
highschool na nagtatrabaho ngayon dun.

Okay, nakuha ko na yung pangalan. Balik ako dun, tinanong ko yung
sekyu kung saan ang opisina nung babae.

"Sa seventh floor po."

Hindeeeeee!!!!! Pero sige, para lang magkaroon ng bunga ang
paghihirap ko ngayong araw na ito- may exodus ng tao sa harap ng
elevator, kaya ayun, inipon ko ang natitira kong lakas at hininga, at
aking tinakbo muli ang second to seventh floor sa hagdanan.

Pagdating sa taas, halos bumagsak sa lupa ang baga ko.
Nagtanong-tanong ako ulit kung saan ang opisina nung bes-pren ng tita
ko, hanggang sa mapunta na ako sa gitna ng opisina nila. Sa wakas-

"Ay! Diyan yung opisina nun, pasok ka diyan."

Yehey!!!

"Ha? Ay! On-leave siya ngayon. Babalik siya sa January 2."

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hindi pa rin nauubos ang mga tao sa elevator, hindi ko maalala kung
paano ko tinakbo pababa ang first floor. Pikon na pikon ako, grabe.
Pag-uwi, nakaubos yata ako ng isang pitsel ng gulaman. Hinintay kong
humupa ang tila-nuclear holocaust ng galit sa loob ng dibdib ko.

Punyetang gobyerno ito!!! Letse!!! Hindi mahuli-huli yung mga tax
evaders,hindi mabigyan-bigyan ng TIN yung mga nagmamagandang loob na
magbayad ng buwis!!!

Tangina, no wonder may lumolobo tayong mga deficit!!!

Syet!!! Ano nangyari sa iodized salt campaign ni Ramos!!!

Nung gabi, tinawagan ko si TJ, yung kasama ko sa trabaho, at
kinuwento ko lahat. Lagi ko kasing kinukuwento ang bawat installment
ng aking BIR adventures, at tulad ng isang epiko, grabe ang climax
nung hapon na yun.

Syet. Hayop sa climax. Tinatawanan ko na lang, pero nung hapon na yun
kaya ko sigurong mangagat ng leeg. Tawa rin nang tawa si TJ, at
ngayon, kuwento niya, tawa rin nang tawa yung mga pinagkuwentuhan
niya. Pati yung mga tao sa tambayan namin, nung kinuwento ko, di rin
makahinga sa katatawa.

Langya, baka maging urban legend pa ang buhay ko, in which case, sana
puwede kong i-video lahat, at lalagyan ko ng sumpa- ala "The Ring",
tapos fafadalhan ko ng kopya yung mga tao sa BIR.

Naisip-isip ko na lang ngayon, paano nga kung kailangan mo ng
lisensya para magsulat. Isang physical manifestation ng concept ng
poetic license? haha!

Kung sa driver's license, may mga restrictions tulad ng "Vehicle up
to 4500 KGS GVW" o kaya "Automatic clutch above 4500 KGS GVW", etc.
paano kaya yung sa "Poetic License" o "Writing License?"

I.Restrictions

1. Haiku and short essays only
2. Essays up to 500 words and Freeverse up to 5 stanzas
3. Essays above 500 words and Freeverse above 5 stanzas
4. Critical Essays, Short Fiction, Poetry ...etc.

Pero nag-digress na naman ako. Isang hapon, pagkatapos nung BIR
episode, dumaan ako sa tambayan namin sa UP.

Nung makita ako ng mga kasama ko - Jol! Pumayat ka a! Grabe!" hehehe.
Naalala ko yung jogging-jogging ko sa building, at yung stress, at
namagandai ako. Isang mapait at matamis na ngiti.

At kinuwento ko kung bakit.

PS: hanggang ngayon, wala pa akong TIN. Kuwento ni TJ, si Santi Bose
raw, namatay nang walang TIN. Nakakatakot.

--------------------------

may tin ako and for a while, while working as a lowly paid Research Assistant at UP (nami man akon boss and really embarassed for the budget UP is giving to its in-house researches) the government took (they always take and never give, don't they) 10% of my LOWWWWWWWWWWW salary. the salary that is barely enough to pay the rent. 

hokay..........

so now i'm done with that research and my current job says i should pay taxes at my own time and as a result... I HAVE A TIN BUT I DON'T PAY THE TAXES.

yes.

long overdue post...and yet this is all i can manage:

for kind souls out there with overflowing money and don't knwo where to put them or where to spend them on or is willing to do post-chirstmas gift-giving, buy me this book and let me know if you're ready to send it to me:

now, isn't that wonderful?

SHE

by aaron cometbus

SHE KISSES WITH HER MOUTH OPEN. SHE DOESN'T WEAR UNDERWEAR. ON YOUR FIRST DATE TOGETHER YOU BOTH GET SCARS. ON YOUR SECOND DATE, YOU MAKE OUT IN THE PARK. ON YOUR THIRD DATE WHEN SHE SAYS ITS NOT NORMALLY LIKE THIS, IT'S A COMPLIMENT. BUT THINGS ARE AWKWARD AFTER THAT, SO YOU GIVE HER A CHANCE TO DUMP YOU NICELY. YOU ASK IF SHE WANTS YOU TO STOP CHASING HER. TO YOUR SURPRISE, SHE SAYS NO. YOU PICK ORANGES TO GIVE HER ON THE FOURTH DATE BUT THEY TURN GREEN WAITING FOR HER TO CALL.

 

SHE IS THE BEST THING THAT' HAPPENED ALL YEAR. SHE GETS YOU DRUNK IN HER BED AND YOU ARE IN HEAVEN. WHEN YOU'VE GOT YOUR HEADS PRESSED TOGETHER, SHE DOESN'T LOOK LIKE A BLURRY ONE-EYED MONSTER LIKE EVERYONE ELSE DOES THAT CLOSE. YOU BLINK AND SHE DOESN'T SUDDENLY APPEAR TO BE YOUR TENTH GRADE ENGLISH TEACHER OR YOUR SISTER OR YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE, LIKE EVERYONE ELSE DOES. YOU BLINK AND SHE LOOKS LIOKE A MOVIE STAR.YOU BLINK AND SHE LOOKS LIKE YOUR SECRET CRUSH. YOU BLINK AND SHE LOOKS LIKE AN OLD FRIEND, THEN LIKE A RAD GIRL YOU SAW ONLY ONCE YEARS BEFORE. SHE LOOKS LIKE EVERYONE YOU'VE EVER WANTED TO BE IN BED WITH, AND ITS GETTING WEIRD, AND YOU CAN'T EXPLAIN WHY YOU KEEP BLINKING AND STARING AT HER. SHE FALLS ASLEEP BEFORE YOU, AND SHE GETS SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL SLEEPING, SHE IS RADIANT. SHE IS DIFFERENT IN THE MORNING THOUGH. SHE HAS CHANGED HER MIND AND YOU HAVE TO FIND ANOTHER PLACE TO STAY. YOU HAVE FAILED HER TEST. SHE ADDS INSULT TO INJURY BY TRYING TO SET YOU UP WITH HER FRIEND. SHE MAKES PLANS TO SEE YOU THE NIGHT BEFORE YOU LEAVE ON A LONG TRIP. SHE DOESN'T SHOW UP AND DOESN'T CALL. YOU REMEMBER WHEN SHE SAID SHE WAS FROM HELL AND WOULD RUIN YOUR LIFE, AND YOU'D THOUGHT SHE WAS JOKING.

 

SHE CAPTURES YOUR ATTENTION AND YOUR IMAGINATION AND THEN YOUR HEART. SHE TELLS YOU ABOUT LIVING IN A BUS STATION WHEN SHE WAS FOURTEEN. SHE TELLS YOU ABOUT DOING SO MANY DIFFERENT THINGS IN SO MANY DIFFERENT PLACES THAT SHE'S EITHER FOURTY YEARS OLD OR SHE'S ONE HELL OF A LIAR. SHE IS ONLY 23. SHE LIVES IN A CLOSET. DOWN ON THE WATERFRONT, SHE TEACHES YOU HOW TO USE OIL PAINTS, THE DARK COLORS FIRST. SHE DIGS THE VEGETABLES OUT OF THE DUMPSTER AND TOSSES THEM OVER THE FENCE TO YOU. SHE FINDS CLOTHES BUT THEY'RE TOO NEW AND UNCOMFORTABLE, SO YOU BOTH PUT THEM ON AND GO DRAGGING EACH OTHER AROUND TOWN, THROWING EACH OTHER IN PUDDLES, WRESTLING EACH OTHER IN THE DIRT. THEN THE CLOTHES ARE FIVE SIZES BIGGER AND WORN IN JUST RIGHT. SHE STARTS HANGING OUT WITH YOUR WORST ENEMY, BUT SAYS IT'S NOT LIKE THAT. YOU SAY IT IS OR AT LEAST IT'S GOING TO BE AND SHE COULD'VE AT LEAST GIVEN YOU A MONTH HEADSTART TO RUN LIKE HELL. SHE SAYS ITS NOT LIKE THAT. THREE DAYS LATER, IT IS LIKE THAT, AND SHE SAYS ITS YOUR FAULT. SHE LEAVES ON AN AIRPLANE WITH YOUR WORST ENEMY. IT WOULD BE NICE TO BE HOME WITH BOTH OF THEM OUT OF YOUR WAY, BUT YOU'RE ALSO LEAVING THAT DAY, FIVE HOURS LATER, ON AN AIRPLANE HEADING IN THE SAME DIRECTION. ON THE AIRPLANE RADIO, HER SONG COMES OUT.

 

SHE IS THE LAST GIRL IN THE WORLD YOU SHOULD EVER FALL INLOVE WITH, BUT IT'S TOO LATE. SHE TELLS YOU SHE LOVES YOU, THEN IN THE MORNING SAYS SHE WAS ON DRUGS AND DIDN'T MEAN IT. SHE TAKES THE PRESENTS YOU GIVE HER AND GIVES THEM TO OTHER GIRLS WHO SHE SAYS LIKE YOU MORE. SHE TAKES THE LIST OF YOUR WORST FEARS AND USES IT AS A CHECKLIST, MAKING THEM HAPPEN ONE BY ONE. YOU LOSE, AND THEN YOU LOSE HER TOO, AND LOSING HER FEELS LIKE HAVING EVERY GIRL IN THE WORLD AND THEN LOSING THEM ALL. SHE BRINGS YOU TO LIFE AND THEN BRINGS YOU TO DEATH. SHE SAYS THAT AS LONG AS YOU LOVE HER AND SHE LOVES YOU, ALL THE SHIT THAT'S HAPPENED DOESN'T REALLY MATTER. UNFORTUNATELY, IT DOES MATTER TO YOU.

and fritz robert balgos, if you get to read this, give me back by cometbus issues!!!!!!!