Closest Thing to Heaven (Naks!)

It was one of those days when, after having physically punished myself going to FEU and UST and FEU again and UST again just to earn the much needed money to sustain my few needs as a graduate student, I decided to have a peaceful night reading a book and eventually dozing off. Unfortunately, the graduate students’ residence hall where I stay would be having its umpteenth acquaintance partying and boozing out.
Not wanting to tell the dorm manager that I am not really into meeting new people that day nor trying to sleep amidst all the noise coming from the always playing Build Me Up Buttercup and Wake Me Up Before You Go Go sound machine for it would surely sound so hostile and bitchy, I decided to beg Gemma, my co-teach friend to allow me to sleep in her condo unit for the night.
Well, I was kinda lucky for having a richy friend or a friend with a rich sister. The place was not only quiet and cozy. It was clean and it smells good as a bonus. It was the closest thing to heaven even if Cary Grant was not there, I should say, and Deborah Kerr would have to agree with me. Here are some of the corners in her “cutesy” abode.
There is that white sofa where I slept. Notice the TV, and the DVD player, and the CD rack filled with good stuff were just beside the foot of my bed for the night. At the head of my bed were the Navarro sketches (tama ba?) and the lamp that lit up at the slightest touch. The three foot fridge, packed with all the food that forced me to make playing badminton a habit,was beside the window overlooking Makati Skyline.

The Most That Mycah Can Do

Am really hesitant in publishing these pictures. As much as possible, I want my students enrolled in my Photo Class to look at the best examples of shots only.
I have always picked and shown in my powerpoint presentations those pictures taken from National Geographic and the ones that won the Pulitzer.
Besides, Mycah is not an SLR. Just a digi. Oh well, enough of the disclaimer. Here they are... From Calaruega to Caliraya.

Aboloryo Slippers, Anyone?

It was hot. The eye of heaven looked down and saw me, walking without an umbrella. Immediately it felt my defiance and therefore, challenged my sustaining power. Unflinching, I continued walking towards the house of Ate Hennie, an aboloryo goddess of Pateros. And my stupid self forgot to bring a wipe. Imagine the sweat, slowly gathering on my face and neck, dripping and dropping, and subsequently... smelling. Finally, we reached the house.

Let my pictures tell you the rest.