Who knew that one spur-of-the-moment decision to watch TV late on a weeknight could lead to a journey of a lifetime?

I've learned that the first step into winning something is to go for it. When I saw Green Cross's TV ad for the Do Good, Get Dirty campaign, I'd decided I'd give it a shot.

One shot was all it took.

I've submitted my 15-second video a day before the cutoff. I filmed it in Lake Pandin - intentionally, I should note. How else can you showcase your willingness to do good while getting dirty other than actually being out there and doing it?

It was a simple video - as far as videos go these days. Just me in a bright orange life vest, on the edge of a bamboo raft, declaring that I deserve to win because I enjoy getting dirty and want to do good on a larger scale. I had "Tell the World" playing in the background, and the highlight was me jumping into Pandin's waters.

Simple as it may be, lacking effects and high quality resolution, I was chosen as one of the Top 20. Out of thousands of entries, people from Green Cross, Rajah Travel, and Gallardo and Associates somehow decided I had what it takes.

Then the voting period started. Many hours of sleep had been lost  from anxiety - both from dreading the rankings and from school matters and other commitments. I was metaphorically on the edge of my seat.

I almost didn't  make it.

Gripped by an overwhelming sense of desire and fueled by nothing but adrenaline, I had rallied my family and friends (and their friends) on the last day of voting - giving birth to the tacky hashtag #powervoteCeline. The last-minute bayanihan worked,

Sometimes, all you really have to do is ask.

The second best part of this experience? I was able to reconnect with old friends and make stronger ties with new ones. The best part of it all, of course, is this:
I am one of the Nine.

Now, I am a few hours away from this once in a lifetime journey.Together with the rest of the Green Cross Advocates, I will make this one a memorable and meaningful trip.

We shall make a change.

I will make this deed worth every vote, every support, every help I've received. I will make everyone who believed in me proud.

Thank you, all.

Cheers to this adventure!

October 19, 2014

Sunday is my favorite day, for Sunday is Dennis Day. Hihi.

Isn't that sweet?

Well, how else will you start a post about a place that sells cakes and cupcakes?

Kim is Hungry is a desserts place in the heart of Angono. It is rather hard to spot, but through the help of social media, it has become basically ubiquitous.

Kim is Hungry is also another milestone for Celineism. It is the first foodscape that had known the review beforehand. Particularly because Kim, the owner, is the niece of my very good friend and Team Ilocos member Sir George. Long story short, Kim is Hungry  knew I was coming.

Here we go.

Related Adventure: Ilocos

THE PLACE

Found one block from Thinkerbell, on the second floor of an inconspicuous building, the only telltale sign that Kim is Hungry is headquartered here is the piece of tarpaulin stuck to the glass window on the second storey. It is easily missed, as very few people bother to look up. Also, taking your eyes off the road whilst driving a vehicle is perilous, and I highly advise against it.

At any rate, despite all these, Kim is Hungry had acquired a steady flow of customers through the powerful tool that is social media.

Related Adventure: Thinkerbell, Thinkerbell, Ice Cream All the Way!

Once you've found the establishment and found your way inside, the counter will be the first thing you'll see. It's literally across the door. It also doubles as the kitchen.

Yummy-looking cupcakes and cookies are displayed. And it is here that I exclaimed, "Let's try them aaaaaallll!"

The dining area is small and can only accommodate maybe 10 to 15 people.

I know this is a bit late, but when somebody said you can write whatever you want, I assumed that there's an implied whenever there somewhere. So, there.

Anyway, I'm dreading the end of my college life. I dread it because the moment some "important" person hands me my diploma, things will start to get real. I mean, real real. Wait, wait. Allow me to explain myself. (Ahem. As you know, what I lack in subtlety, I more than make up for in clarity.)

What I'm trying to say here is that in no less than a month, my life would be transformed into a swirling vortex of confusion, hassle, stress, resumes, unreturned phone calls, job offers, responsibilities, power, debts, lies, pretense, brown-nosing, unjust compensation, and everything in between. I sense some of you will be sneering. "Bitch, please", some will even exclaim. But, in the grand scheme of things, you know I'm telling the truth. Denial is not just a river in Egypt. (See what I did there?)

I had my share of apathy and IDGAFs. And I love it. Love, love, love it. Whenever I can afford to be lazy, I will be. But you see, even an immortal, such as myself, believes it is wise not to ignore the order of things. One of the greatest weakness of the human race is that we suffer from the vice of renouncing Change, only to wake up one day with Change's callused hand slapping us right in the face. As the great Niccolo Machiavelli once said: before all else, be armed.

Now, on to the raison d'être of this note.

Last November, I had my 500-hour internship somewhere I prefer not to mention. (Although, come to think of it, a lot of people already know where. So, I guess the anonymity has been rendered moot. But, moving on.) I'm not saying I didn't like this experience but I'm not saying I liked it either. It's like Schrodinger's Cat. Well, sort of.

At any rate, yeah, I had my internship. My professors swear that it's a preparation for the real world. I think it's an unnecessary burden, like math. (I'm shrugging my shoulders. Just in case you needed visual stimulation.)

So, during the almost four-month production of Celine the Intern, I learned quite a number of things. (I can hear Nikki, Witty, Abby, Jhe, and Rudy derisively shouting, "Photocopying! Awesome!") But noooooo, I'm referring to useful things. At least, I think they're useful. Well, enough dilly-dallying. Here they are:

 1.) Some people will underestimate your ability to handle bad news.
This one's pretty straightforward. Out there in the corporate world, there are people who will NOT tell you that you suck at your job nor yell at you for screwing some important computations. You might think these people are great. *Insert buzzer noise here* WRONG! These people are devil-spawns. They might think they mean well but in truth they are ever so slightly ruining your chance of growth. In truth, they are underestimating your emotional stability. That's bullshit. Emotional instability is for the weak.

NOT!

WHAT A CELINEIST WOULD DO: If they won't voluntarily tell you what they think, take the liberty of asking for their honest opinion. You might not like what you hear and it may sting your pride a little bit, but you'll eventually have the option of becoming better. It's more fun knowing that you were wrong than being kept in the dark and then being stabbed with a not-so-good feedback because you messed up and did not know it. At least when you're told something's wrong, you'll have the chance to right it before it escalates.

2.) First impressions do last.

Word.

When you manifest a shadow of your scumbag self the first time you are placed in a new environment, some people will take note. And from that point onwards, your life will be a living hell. (Especially if those people are your superiors.)

Mounted on a motorcycle, one Tuesday at dusk, was when I first saw it. Amidst the cacophony of honks and faulty brakes, despite and, perhaps, in spite of the mental and physical exhaustion brought about by the past few weeks, the gleam of Trattoria Emilia-Romagna had appeared to me like a beacon to a ship lost at sea.

On my way to my CPE class in URS Angono, I had caught a glimpse of a protruding glowing signage. I had eased on the gas, narrowing my eyes to make out what it said. When I had realized it was a foodscape, it automatically went into my inventory of foodscapes to review. 

So here is another gastronomic adventure.

THE PLACE

Before we begin, I hope no one minds if I start referring to this place simply as Trattoria. Alright, no objections. Carry on.

The reconstruction of the bridge along the main road to Angono's town proper had been treated as a blessing by very few people (and establishments). I must say, Trattoria definitely benefited from the rerouting. Trattoria's signage is hard to miss when you're taking the detour. It is even harder to ignore at night, when the signage's lights are on.

Located along an alley that can only accommodate bicycles, tricycles and motorcycles, Trattoria is another one of those "garage restaurants". 

The facade had not entirely abandoned its residential former self, as evidenced by the gates and the second-floor balcony. Notwithstanding, I find Trattoria's face rather lovely. I like how it looked in the early evening light. Romantic. I must see it when there is still daylight.

Related Adventure: Snacking at the Food Factory

Walk inside the place and several wooden tables and chairs will greet you. Ambient lighting provides a mellow mood. Kind of intimate, I think. The ceilings were improvised trellis - at least I think they are. The walls were a simple white - although I can't be sure since the lighting made it hard to distinguish colors; also, there is a slight chance that I might be colorblind. 

Then there is the counter where an empty cake shelf is located. And overhead is a chalkboard where selected items from the menu are written beautifully.

I love the vibes of Trattoria. It's very relaxing. I didn't feel pressured to leave. I feel welcome, for some reason. And that is usually a good thing, yes?

THE FOOD

For my third foodie date with Eli, we had a wonderful Italian meal.

Strawberry Frost and Green Apple Frost (Php45 each)

I love everything strawberry! But I liked the Green Apple Frost better. Both beverages were decent but the Green Apple one was tastier. These were not too sweet; they were actually refreshing, and not at all cloying. The complementary bread appetizer was also not bad.

Fettuccine in Beef and Pork Ragu (Php145 Solo; Php190 Regular; Php370 Sharing)

It began one Thursday afternoon, when I was walking along the street that led to the University of Rizal System - Angono campus. I was lugging a bunch of stuffs, including my professorial knickknacks, when a man approached me and handed me a flyer. "Celine, right?" were his exact words. My reply was: Yeah, do I know you? To be fair, I did know him. That was just my automatic response; couldn't help it. The man was a high school batch mate named, I think, Kenneth. While I was having a mental grapple with my memory, Kenneth told me about the flyer he was handing out. Apparently, another restaurant had opened in Angono. It was called "The Food Factory". I asked him if he was the owner. He quickly answered no, explaining he was just the chef/server. I nodded and excused myself. I had to go because I was already late for class, but I promised him I'd come by and visit soon.

I find it hard to write these days. Not because I'm running out of ideas (the only time that'll happen is when I'm dead. And I'm immortal. So, no) but because I simply have other things to do. Said things are not necessarily more important. Said things, at the time and for some reason that I still can't accept, were a priority. Apparently.

Lydia Comes to Visit

She knew it was time because of the colors. When she gazed at the skies and saw the shade of bruises, she knew she had to go. It had become natural, like breathing. It was the same exact time everyday. She didn't bother to fix her hair nor powder her nose. These were nuisance. She only needed the essentials—all of which were safely covered in dirty cheese cloth.