Tagged Again! “Filipino Bucket List”

Or, how self knows whether she is or isn’t certifiably “Filipina” (List courtesy of  the indefatigable Kathleen 🙂  )

The instructions were to place an “X” by all the things self has done.  After looking at all the “X-es,” self decided to group them by category:

Not Involving Food:

Self has engaged in the following activities:  walked in a flood (Dear blog readers, “flood” has nothing on the Tagalog version:  baha, which calls to mind waterborne cars, detritus, you name it), ridden a tricycle, ridden a caritela, participated in shooting the rapids,  attended Simbang Gabi (Midnight Mass), played patintero, played piko, played tumbang preso, played sungka, climbed (or tried to climb) a coconut tree, danced the tinikling (and also the itik-itik; and also the pandanggo sa ilaw), ridden a jeepney, gone to Baguio, gone to Palawan (as well as Bacolod, Bohol, Cebu, Corregidor, Davao, Dumaguete, Mindoro and Tagaytay), cut class, told manananggal or aswang stories, slept under a mosquito net, ridden a kalabaw, taken a bath by the “ilog,” used a pumice stone when taking a bath, gone inside Malacañang, gone shopping at Divisoria, gone shopping in Quiapo (for anting-anting!), seen Taal Volcano, and watched the sunset by Manila Bay.

Involving Food:

Self has eaten with her fingers (food placed on banana leaves), and ingested the following items:  balot (but never penoy), taho, pandesal with condensed milk, tsamporado with tsokolate and tuyo, and “dirty” ice cream

Self has never eaten kambing (goat), aso (dog), bayawak (monitor lizard), adidas (chicken feet), helmet (chicken head), isaw (chicken intestines), aratiles (don’t know what that is), fish head, durian, pandesal dunked into hot coffee, or gotten drunk on lambanog (coconut wine).


Self has never gone to the Lanzones Festival (wherever that is), played with spiders, gotten on a jeepney so crowded that she had to stand (Is it even possible to stand inside a jeepney?  Self thinks not, unless one is positioned on the step by which one clambers on to the jeepney:  this, indeed, self has done), caught fish in a canal during a rainy day, participated in the Ati-Atihan, or attended a prusisyon during Holy Week.

Oh my God, the list is endless!  Guess there’ll just have to be a Part Two . . .

Stay tuned, dear blog readers, stay tuned.

“He’s Just Not That Into You”

Self is just back from the dentist.  The dentist said she must not eat (solid food), which self thought was a good excuse to make herself an ice cream float.  Now self is thinking about the movie she saw before the appointment with the dentist, and telling herself she must not be so catty.  She saw someone in the movie lobby she hadn’t seen for years:  a Mom she knew from The Mother’s Club at son’s old elementary school.  This woman didn’t recognize self, even though self stood right behind her in the concession line, and they went into the same movie (“He’s Just Not That Into You”)  She was with a whole group of her friends, other middle-aged women with blonde hair and leather jackets and cute Tory Burch flats.  What did it matter that she didn’t remember self?  That one of her group stood blocking self’s way and when self said, “Excuse me,” this woman turned around and glared at self, as if self had just done something incredibly rude?

But, hey, it was a good day:  the sun was shining, the movie was fun.  Scarlett Johansson played the usual marriage-wrecking female (she’s almost typecast in this role), there was a guy self had never seen before (very tanned, blonde) in the married-guy role, and of all things he happened to be stepping out on Jennifer Connolly (who, perhaps in a deliberate attempt to appear like “an average gal”, was not as pretty as she was in “Blood Diamond” or even in “The Day the Earth Stood Still,” and she was thin almost to the point of being sharp-faced–?  Sorry, all you Jennifer Connolly fans out there!)

Drew Barrymore was in a very small role, and self kept remembering the gossip about her ditching Justin Long (good thing they didn’t have any scenes together), and there was a woman who looked so like Carla Gugino, who self had just seen deliver an unforgettably scorching performance in “Desire Under the Elms” at the Goodman, but was here in a small role as a frumpy sister of Jennifer Aniston, and Jennifer Aniston was good in her role (as a woman who can’t get her man to commit to the Big M!), and self almost forgot Ben Affleck was in the movie, he was so self-effacing.  And Kris Kristofferson made quite an impression (although his role was smaller than Ben’s) playing the role of Jennifer Aniston’s dad.  Oh, yes, and Ginnifer Goodwin was sweet and very believable as the hapless serial dater who eventually finds the guy who is into her.

Judging from the fact that this movie is a hit, and judging by the audience today in the downtown Redwood City cinema (middle-aged Moms), there are clearly many different types of people who are interested in the subject of male-female relations and the complications that ensue therefrom.  Self, too, has been guilty of telling son, one day when he came home from school complaining of a female classmate who kept pulling his hair:  “That means she’s really, really into you!  She just doesn’t know how to show it!”  And last night, in august New York Times, of all places, self read a personal essay by a TV producer who bought a $3000 ticket to Beijing so she could flirt with a journalist she knew only by e-mail.  And the man came clean (eventually) and confessed that, a month earlier, he’d met someone . . .

Stay tuned, dear blog readers, stay tuned.

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