Monday, December 17, 2007

Updates

My laptop is down and I have not been able to blog. I was able to use it last on Friday at the Philippine Airlines office at the Centennial Airport. I was having my ticket to Bohol rebooked and thought I'd check my email while waiting for my number to be called. When I got home and turned it back on, it went into automatic disk checking, and it has been doing that (and only that) since. I'm having it fixed right away so I could go on with my life.

As of today, I have the following pending posts:

  • The Bohol Vacation
  • The Singapore Trip
  • The Bohol Trip for The Happy Sun charity
I have drafts of the Singapore entries already and will do my best to post them (and the other pending entries) within the week, before the Christmas rush sets in. In the last two weeks I have gained so much insight and there is just so much to share. My cup is filled to the brim and I am close to overflowing.

Busy busy busy.

2 comments:

  1. Noticed that you have a pocket PC phone. You can do mobile blogging too you know. Wi-fi enabled by yan? Check out google's mobile blog options.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hey Glenn, Chrissie here. Wow can't wait to hear your SG stories. Do keep me updated! By the way, I lost my cellphone. Will let you know when I get a new number.

    Baci baci baci,
    Chrissie

    ReplyDelete

Related Posts with Thumbnails

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.

LA POESÍA

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