Sunday, August 12, 2007

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

Okay, it's a Sunday. I have no urgent work and my friend Otep says my blog needs updating. (He cringes when he sees that picture of my swollen foot.) So here goes.

As for the foot, it has gotten so much better. I can at least give the appearance that I can walk straight without any pain. But it's unlikely I'd see any court action or get to hit the gym soon.

As for the weight-loss efforts, hmmm, well, what efforts? Since the accident, I have not made any to that end. I've been eating. My mom, who was visiting from Japan, was uber caring and attentive to my needs - thanks Mom! - whipping up the most delicious meals left and right. I gave up trying to avoid carbs or trying not to eat too much while she was here.

As for work, well, it's always there. I'm just glad I have none of that today. Later, the Ala-Coloma siblings are going out to watch a movie at Trinoma. Time for some bonding with the "kids."


  1. sigh! what a relief... hehehe! instead of a swollen foot... i see a swollen face instead... hahaha... of course you're not... you're not even close to being chubby...

    Let us all thank God for Sundays...!!! or perhaps for every day... just like what The Smiths sez... Everyday is like Sundays... it can be.

  2. i cringe everytime i open your page! ay mali, mukha mo na pala ang nasa picture. hahahha. m glad that your foot is okay...alipunga na lang ang problema. hehhe. about your weight loss issue, i honestly think you lost weight. you look a lot better now. galing nung gym, kahit nagstop ka agad. so you better get your butt to planet infinity again and work it! tapos sa january event natin sa bora, hunky ka na!


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The Chronicler's Creed

Where there's water and sun, where there are friends to see or new people to meet, where there's something new to learn, experience, or do, where there's life, there I will be.


Y fue a esa edad... Llegó la poesía
a buscarme. No sé, no sé de dónde
salió, de invierno o río.
No sé cómo ni cuándo,
no, no eran voces, no eran
palabras, ni silencio,
pero desde una calle me llamaba,
desde las ramas de la noche,
de pronto entre los otros,
entre fuegos violentos
o regresando solo,
allí estaba sin rostro
y me tocaba.

And it was at that age... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I do not know, I do not know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I do not know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

- An excerpt from LA POESÍA (Poetry) by Pablo Neruda