I feel pretty, oh so pretty!

You are beeyutipol!

You are beeyutipol!

I just received a Beautiful Blogger Award from the very sweet  J. My, my, my! All I can say is–well, it’s about time someone, other than myself, declares the obvious truth around here. He-he, absolutely made my day! Thank you, Joybz, altho. you deserve it more (for being the truly beautiful one, inside and out). But, beauty is something that I have always looked up to–to inspire me, to heal me. Beauty shines its light into the dark corners of my soul and resurrects me every time I fumble into the gloomy, depraved, and murky. For this reason alone, I thank God for creating beauty that saves. As they say in French, vive la vérité, la beauté et l’amour! Long live truth, beauty, and love!

Now I’m off to the loo to pamper this, ah, beauty.

Rest soul, rest o weary heart.

“Daylight Fades. A great peace descends into poor minds that the day’s work has wearied; and thoughts take on the tender and shadowy tints of twilight.” –Baudelaire, “Evening Twilight,” in Paris Spleen.

Hay . . .

So many people have spoken so eloquently about Ondoy (and aftermath) in their blogs (people I read and like, like I, J, and W), that I don’t know if I have anything meaningful to add except maybe a few realizations. The storm came figuratively close to home (figuratively because we did not really suffer flooding in both homes in Laguna and Taguig), but one family member (who is freakishly stubborn!) got a close call in Pasig (last na yan, M!), an aunt lost everything in her ground-floor apartment because she was stranded at work and could no longer go home, with Mandaluyong 7-8 ft. under water (e, 4’5″ lang ata si Tita Uchie. Peace, Tita!), a good friend suffered immense damages to property in Marikina (but thank God she, family, and loved ones are safe), I got stranded in Makati, while P suffered the worst SLEX traffic (na yata) in history: 9 hours of grueling stop and go, made worse by the fact that a lot of motorists just abandoned their cars, trucks haphazardly on the road (way to go, morons!) and, I don’t know, walked/swam home? (an experience both back- and b*ll-breaking, according to P).

Okay, no one really expected the extent of damage Ondoy would bring (I mean for chrissakes, the thing is called “Ondoy,” like some kanto bum, unemployed, beer-bellied, and, for all practical reasons, useless), but that’s where we erred because we just simply underestimated “Ondoy.” We thought, “All bark, no bite.” Constant rains, yes, but what a sissy! A storm? Where were the lightnings and thunders? Where was the 100+-kilometer-per-hour winds? Where were the flying yeros? Ah, but that’s where we made the mistake, in thinking that the flooding that would come with the incessant rains was still an act of God. We forgot we’re in the Philippines, where every available space (except our own homes, of course) is a free-for-all dumping ground: sewers, canals, and most water ways clogged beyond belief, government agencies and leaders, with their own asses stuffed up with silly and greedy personal agendas, poor urban planning, and apathy, just general apathy from the government and, sad to say, a large number of Filipinos (not all). Typical of certain Asian races, we simply fail to care outside the perimeters of our own homes, families, extended families, and barkadas. The love for family (and self) becomes the be-all and end-all that we often fail to live largely and responsibly as committed/caring citizens. We can’t really just say it’s intrinsic, that we’re just born this way. We’re a product, after all, of our 7,100 mostly scattered islands, of history, of decades of disillusionment, and, recently, of untrustworthy leaders (so who could blame us?). But, of course, always, there are diamonds in the rough: children (two generations down from mine, born in the ’90s onwards), who we thought were most probably materialistic and self-absorbed (with their iPhone, PSP, and cosplay fixations), volunteering time and energy to pack relief goods, staff phone lines, bring help to friends and strangers. So young and so socially responsible! I can now rest easy knowing that the future of the nation is in good hands.

And I, 33 (okay 34 in November, gaddammit!), together with others both older and younger, was shaken out of my own little bubble and apathy and forced to take a hard look at my role and responsibility as a citizen. Forced to step out of: “It happened to them, thank God, it wasn’t me”  type of mentality and moved to help out in my own little way.

It was not only the dams whose floodgates were (allegedly) opened that fateful Saturday, our hearts opened, as well, and from there, I am sure, only good things could come gushing forth.

Hmm, hmm, hmm . . .

What do you do when ridiculously large strawberries beckon to you from the grocery’s fresh-produce aisle? Well, you make chocolate-covered strawberries, that’s what! The fact that I have never made chocolate-covered strawberries before obviously didn’t stop me. I mean, how hard can it actually be? There’s strawberry, there’s melted chocolate,* dip one in the other, let cool, and PRESTO!

But, of course that would be too easy–even for me. So, I decided to make things a bit more interesting by adding a li’l butter (if it’s good for the French, it’s good for me!), a smidgen of leftover wine, a sprinkling of nutmeg, and a wee pinch of chili powder (just a wee!). Hubby arrived looking like a flat tire, entered home with all the wonderful aromas wafting in the air, eyes popped out, mouth watered, and the rest you can see from the pictures below. 

Strawberries + Chocolate + Wine = Happy Husband

Strawberries + Chocolate + Wine = Happy Husband

 

Walang drain pan? Improvise! James Bond didn't have to deal with this kind of sh*t . . .

Walang drain pan? Improvise! All I can say is, James Bond didn't have to deal with this kind of sh*t . . .

 

He sure loves 'em!

He sure loves 'em!

 

Tada!

Tada!

Not bad, not bad at all.

*Courtesy of an improvised double-boiler or bain-marie.

These are just two of my favorite things . . .

Perfect caps to a tiring day: cold drinks and the best churros in town (trumps even Casa Armas's).

Perfect caps to a tiring day: cold drinks and the best churros in town (trumps even Casa Armas's).

Kasarap! Tapos they have these Conde Nast mags that I love to read, but cost an arm and leg to buy, but here I get to read them for free–ay, perfection!