I have added a new link to the list on the right - shot out to the Colonel.
In the meantime, I shall continue blogging my experiences from the Philippines. If you didn't already know, the post previous to this one is the plane ride from Philly to Manila in all it's glory. I shall continue where I left off. I promise you, this stuff is worth reading if you don't know what to do with yourself for a small period of time.
DATE: SEPTEMBER 11, 2005 (US, SUNDAY)
LOCATION: UNCLE JUN'S HOUSE, CORINTHIAN HILLS, MANILA, PHILIPPINES
TIME: 725 AM, MANILA (SEPT. 12); 725 PM, NEW YORK (SEPT. 11)
I am sort of confused about what day it is since I'm 12 hours ahead of the states, so I'm trying to keep it all straight in my head.
I am fully aware of what day it is in New York City, however. Trust me, this observation did not sit lightly with me. But in the midst of other emotional priorities, it got stirred up in the mix.
Yesterday, I was awoken by two children bounding into my room loudly.
After being jumped on, bounced upon, they proceeded to pepper me with questions such as: "Do you know how to play chess? Checkers? Scrabble?"
At which point, my 8 year old cousin left the room only to return and plop the games down on my bed. She then declared I was "so big" and then proceeded to house me in a game of checkers where she broke all the rules and I took no time at all pointing that out to her.
I should take a moment to explain something. Here, in the Philippines, if you aren't a stick, you are big. Now I realize that under normal circumstances, I could easily spend a week living off the fat of the land. But here, more than in the US, it's about appearance - if you can fathom such a thing being true. But it really is. Body type is all they talk about here, us Filipinos are supposed to be small-boned, slight, and with long hair - all attributes that fall a few yards by me. So it's something you come to expect. I literally could step off the plane at 100 lbs and they'd be like, "Did you put on weight?" And honestly, this really doesn't bother me in the least, I don't give a rat's ass. But since my little cousin thought it would be fun to keep harping on the fact, I am doing my best to preserve my intent by telling you the story as-is.
Right.
Back at the ranch...
I have been wanting to play Scrabble for months since I played at the Astoria Beer Garden the last time I was in NYC for Coro's New York at Nite - and yes, we went to a beer garden and played Scrabble, what's your point?
But I more than made up for it. I played seven games or something like that today. By the second one, I was tired. By the seventh, I was silly stupid.
And bypassing the fact that my cousin cheats, which I let her do until the fourth game where it became rather wearing, I won all the other games. Yes, she's eight. No, she doesn't speak English fluently. But tell me what you would do when your seven letters are: "Y", "I", "O", "I", "O", "A", and "E"? It sucks when all you get are vowels or consonants.
I'm pretty tired from jet-lag and Scrabble. Bed looks good right about now...
Cheers,
Keeza
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