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Poker Texas Hold 'Em

Two months after Luther gave me his 1K poker chip for my presentation, I learned how to play Texas Hold 'Em. And just recently found myself adopted by a bunch of poker fans online. Now I'm playing with Greece, Minnesota, Virginia, UK and Truckie--who drives 27 hours from east to west coast (and back) so I can't sire him his own state. Crazy fellas! I finally got to put Windows Messenger to good use. I taught my managers how to play poker too and just saw what interesting personalities I got in my team. Jennie "lucky beginner", Nesh "endless questions", Sharee "over-cautious folder", Jerry "reckless low-hand", and Jim "psycho high-roller". Arnel brought the chips while Nax and Queen provided the entertainment. We are on our way to putting together our own poker club. No actual pot at stake... yet!

So listen here. I have had a faaantastic six months. I went through two, count them two break ups, moving back into my parents house and using a stockroom for a bedroom coz my old room’s been taken over, sharing a bathroom with the help, dealing with a philandering father and his money-digging whore, seeing my mother cry and bawl her heart out to me, running a program for a demanding client, launching a site and closing it, preparing for another business review where I have to answer for the jobs of 400 people… You do not, do NOT ask me when you can get extra seats!

Cab Rides

I hate manila cab drivers... with a passion. The moment I get a cab at NAIA--it doesn't matter which, 1, 2 or the new terminal 3--and give directions to any makati hotel, I could hear that loud "Ka-ching! Ka-ching!" resonate from their thought bubbles. The first ten minutes from the time my ass hits that back seat, there'd be the customary squabbling over the use of the meter, or the expected "tax" on top of rates to get there, or traffic in that route or direction, or worse--all of the above. And there's the "which-route-do-we-take" spiel. Don't you just love this M.O.? It's a test, you see. A cab driver's way to check if you're some naive, out of town nitwit, who wouldn't have a clue about how to get from point A to point B. If you fail, chances are you'll get the scenic route. Yes, the route that adds an extra 50 or 100 bucks to your flag. Good luck!

Early last year, I had a memorable supposedly 5-minute ride from Legazpi Village to Salcedo Village, which turned into a nightmare. It was a simple cross through Ayala Avenue with Legazpi in the north and Salcedo in the south. I was so frustrated with the driver, who allegedly didn't know the way, that I got off the cab only to find myself in some dark unlit alley northwest of Makati at 1 in the morning, and the driver coming at me with a tire wrench. FUN. A car slows down to see what was going on but I couldn't get myself to cry for help. In my head, I hysterically tried to remember what was tagalog for help! Saklolo? Shit. That doesn't sound right. My gender saved me, he couldn't bring himself to whack me in the head when he realized I was after all female. Thank you, mammary glans! But fear led me back into the psycho-driver's cab. He insisted i do. He drove me to Salcedo (finally) and just when he slowed down I jumped out and asked for help from building security in the area. With PHP65++ unpaid on the meter, the driver sped off. What was strange was, the guards asked what I did to the driver. They noticed he had a shiner. Whaddayaknow? Did I just mentally beat the guy up? The force was with me, Yoda would be proud.

Over the past couple of years, I've picked up a few survival skills needed for that dreaded Manila cab ride.

Polish the Tagalog accent

Let's face it, Cebuanos speak the worse Tagalog. My accent is just horrific and on some instances embarrassing. Blame it on the Cebuano pride for not learning the official Filipino tongue, just because it isn't Bisaya. Locals from the rest of Visayas and Mindanao don't seem to share the same fate. I had later learned that the right word for help was "Tulong!". And that the word "Saklolo" had no longer been in general use since who knows when. Now how was I supposed to know that?

Really know the way

Every cab ride is a learning experience. Whether I got the scenic or the shortest route, I've learned to sit back and look outside the window. I got to know landmarks, road signs, buildings and more importantly street names. I've frequented Makati enough to give directions like I actually live there. I can say which street to take, which ones are one-way or closed on certain times of the week. Learning the traffic situation to and from the city helped too. It wouldn't hurt to ask someone you know to give you the directions BEFORE getting in the cab. You wouldn't want the driver to watch you display your ignorance. When I have the chance, I check MakatiMaps online to know exactly where I was going: http://www.yellowasp.com/makatimap/.

Be polite

I've learned to understand that drivers are just surviving too. And need, not greed, is why they roll the way they do. If I'm short on cash, I'd make sure exact change was ready. Remembering the 10 bucks required by law on top of the flagged price since gas prices soared. On most days, I give a generous tip and say "thank you". I survived another cab ride!The good news is, once in a while you will meet an honest driver. And experience has shown me that drivers outside of Makati, are kinder and more conscientious.

--END--I am Cebuano-Filipino... And this is how we roll!

Running into Cos-what??

A day at the mall and witnessed my very first cos-play! These mallrats dressed up like their favorite Japanese cartoon heroes. I just randomly asked these punks to pose for me and they were more than happy to oblige. I even got "thank you's" after I took the shots ;-)

Segue to Baluarte



Thanks to Ady, who has finally decided to wean from local TV months after he got cable connection, we took a side trip to Baluarte-a spot he learned about on a travel channel. This 90-some-hectare park is inhabited by a variety of animal species, some, I didn't expect even existed on Philippine soil and were obviously shipped there by the politician-landlord. All of the animals in the park are set free to roam except for the reptiles, the tigers and close-to-extinct creatures. Right. Here's a photo of Ady, myself and Jungkay (angayan ko mag red-head norn?)


Here's the alpha tiger... I call "Mingming". Here's the alpha goat, Ady called "Jeh-Em". Jeh-Em walks the area like the lord of the land and knew exactly where he was going.














Ady poses beside his mini-me horse (horse thought bubble: atay nalang kung musakay ni...), while the iguanas checked out Jungkay's tongue ring (iguana thought bubble: two words... mouth wash). And some guy below plays with the camel (camel thought bubble: read the sign - I spit).

From Pagudpud to Bangui, we were southbound yet again! The bus was loaded with sacks of rice and hog feed, so we had to do some acrobatics to find seats all the way to the back. We practically drove the bus conductor crazy when we couldn't make up our minds where or next pitstop was going to be. Vigan, Laoag, Vigan - Vigan it is! A couple hours later we were at the town's bus terminal. An elderly tricycle driver spoke to us in Ilocano and broken Tagalog. Boy, did I wish we had Roland right now.... After he figured out what we meant by "cobblestone streets", we found ourselves in the middle of the most romantic town I've ever seen. Vigan is absolutely beautiful. Pre-colonial architecture from houses, church, shops, and streets well preserved. Quaint antique shops and modern stores lined the cobblestone streets that only horse-drawn carriages have access to. The moment we entered the preserved town, we couldn’t help but think about...

Food. We had to grab a bite.

Max’s Fried chicken was right by the town square. We walked through the narrow street and into the opening. The gates of heaven came into view. Behold the tourists! There they were, all of God’s children—Filipino elite and European backpackers. And here we were... Starving like the offspring of Somalia and smelling like a Vietnamese sweat shop. Or maybe that was just me. Doh! With a silly fear of potential rejection at the restaurant, and a great need to be accommodated and fed immediately, I pulled out my wild card. In my most nonchalant call-center English I ask the waitress, “Do you accept credit cards?”

The waitress says yes and seats us by the window. Not that we couldn’t pay. Jungkay had gladly offered to pay in cash. Ady, however jumped at the opportunity to get a free meal care of yours truly. We ate, I swiped, and we were off. Everything about the town was just awesome. Jungkay and Ady window-shopped while I took photos. Vigan calms its guests. People just tend to walk slower, talk slower, and I felt like breaking into a song—a kundiman. Even Ady had a spiritual boost and walked into the church with Jungkay.


Segue to Baluarte
(Stay tuned…)