“It hurts . . . it hurts like hell. Even in the knowledge that our punctuation has arrived at its present state by a series of accidents; even in the knowledge that there are at least seventeen rules for the comma, some of which are beyond explanation by top grammarians–it is a matter for despair to see punctuation chucked out as worthless by people who don’t know the difference between who’s and whose, and whose bloody automatic ‘grammar checker’ can’t tell the difference either.
P made these doodles via an iPhone app.
Laby & Craby.
Laby & Craby enjoying the rain.
Laby & Craby traveling around the world.
Laby, wake up!!!
He-he, this reminds me of when he wakes me up for breakfast every weekend.
Tutu & Kiara
Happy family.
Aww, isn’t P so f*cking romantic? :* I lurv, lurv, lurv you, P!
Of the things that we brought home from our recent trip abroad, the ones I love the most are the salad spinner (from G.O.D.) and Price’s Housekeeper Candle (from Woodlane’s Bed & Bath). They’re both so extremely useful (don’t you just love it when things actually work?) that I regret not buying more (kasi ay wala ata dito sa atin). Hay, naku, why am I so kuripot bordering on tanga, kasi?
Gets rid of the tap water from salad greens.
Good grief!
Was advised by the doctor to stay away from certain types of foods (see photographed list) in relation to my pharyngitis. Except for nos. 1 and 2, which I don’t do, man, the rest is like my basic food group!
WTF is the point of living?
Sometimes I get the itch to cook. Well, often I really have to cook, esp. when in our other house where it’s just P and I and well, it’s more economical to cook at home than eat out. But, other times I get really “inspired” to cook a good meal for my hardworking (and good-looking, naks) husband, para paguwi naman n’ya ay mapawi ang kanyang pagod (charing) at pasalamatan n’ya ko in “creative” ways as well (to copy Jun’s parlance, sa pamamagitan ng “bastusan sa kutson.”) Well, ito, nilitratuhan ko ang ilan sa aking mga niluto.
Going through albums to look for a nice foto of my mom’s (for transferring to canvas for her birthday in April), I come across old fotos of me when I was still active in college theater.
As Scarlet in "Takipsilim."
As Myla in "Kabilang sa mga Nawawala."
Good God, I have such an abundance of head hair, don’t I? While most babies come out into the world bald and bare assed, I came out with arms already swinging at imaginary adversaries and a head full of hair that would put Trump’s combover to shame.
Ma in her late teens.
Ma (2009).
My mom is not the perfect mom (she once left giblets [still wrapped in plastic] inside the cavity of the chicken she had roasted and given away), but neither am I the perfect daughter and in both our imperfections I would like to believe that my mother and I have grown to love and respect each other.
I was not my mom’s first child. I actually followed a child (they said it was a boy) that my mother was not able to carry full term.