It was a little restaurant that looked cozy from the outside. I've observed it all the time as I walked into Eastwood. The Brown Bag Cafe. I've always wondered what's in it and what they served, until today.
To think that I regret going in shouldn't really be said. What was supposed to be a trip to Italiannis was transferred to this little restaurant as there were too many people in Italinannis. But then, what the heck, it was a time to check out something new, try. So Chris, Glenn, Cristy and I set on a food journey that made us think of Jollibee after.
Salad, Whole wheat Pizza (4 cheese topping - so it wasn't all that healthy), Whole Wheat Pasta, and Brown Rice Fried Rice... It was interesting. We were taking time to criticize the service, the water that tasted worse than tap and the fact that we were the only ones in the place (at least there was space!)
So, anyway, apart from the service (frustrated servers), the food was all ok. Not really exceptionally priced, but the food was fine. They had their own niche so to say, trying to go for the healthy (which they are not really)...There we were talking, and chatting away. I had the feeling we should've gone back to Italiannis but we were already there, seated, bonding over food and friendship.
Until dessert came...wait, we didn't order dessert. Chocolate Syrup Pannacotta - Complimentary they said. Ok. Fine. It was good actually. And then, we asked for the bill. Then the bomb dropped, they don't accept credit cards (not to mention the signs all over saying Visa, tsk). Why?
Ma'am, kasi po, magsasara na kami in a few days. Last few days na po namin to. Sayang naman ngayon niyo lang na try yung restaurant namin.
Got guilty after that. So, didn't criticize anymore.
It was actually good that we got to try it before it closed down. And it was actually good to help a closing restaurant have a memory of us.
So there. Enough said.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Where's Manong?
It's been more than 2 weeks since I've seen "Manong..."
Yep, Manong, the TG (Taong Grasa) we lovingly call that because we didn't know how else to address him.
Manong grew on us when he moved into Yale Street just a few months before Christmas 2006.
With his various plastic bags, backpack, cap and greasy face, he became a mainstay on our street, on the sidewalk of the house beside ours. Sometimes, he attempted to hang around in ours but I think he learned that my sister comes home late every night so he moved to the house next door...
Manong was the kind of TG I never hated, in fact, he was the TG that seemed to become part of my everyday life. Every night, I'd come home around the same time as Manong from work. I'd observe him trying to get into his sleeping position in front of Dr. Filart's garage. Or I'd see him asleep already when I come home a bit late. In the mornings, Manong would situate himself outside my Uncle Pedro's house, with his normal plastic bags and backpack, he'd sit there, quietly drinking from a Jollibee or Mini Stop cup, or eating a sandwich. He was Manong, the Yale TG, he was Manong, the TG that ate, drank and struggled to squeeze his way between the electric post and the taxi blocking the way to his temporary home. He was Manong, whom my sister gave a Christmas shirt too and from there we found out he changed clothes.
He was Manong, and we don't know where he is.
I started to notice Manong's "unpresence" around more than 2 weeks ago. Before the holy week. I went out in the morning as usual, on my way to catch the jeep to work. He was nowhere to be seen, not at Uncle Pedro's nor was he across the street where he sometimes goes as well... Days passed and Manong never seemed to be there when I got home from work... After the holy week I posed the question to my family, "Where was Manong?"
It was only then they realized he wasn't there. No one noticed...
But it still doesn't change things...
Where's Manong?
And how is he?
Yep, Manong, the TG (Taong Grasa) we lovingly call that because we didn't know how else to address him.
Manong grew on us when he moved into Yale Street just a few months before Christmas 2006.
With his various plastic bags, backpack, cap and greasy face, he became a mainstay on our street, on the sidewalk of the house beside ours. Sometimes, he attempted to hang around in ours but I think he learned that my sister comes home late every night so he moved to the house next door...
Manong was the kind of TG I never hated, in fact, he was the TG that seemed to become part of my everyday life. Every night, I'd come home around the same time as Manong from work. I'd observe him trying to get into his sleeping position in front of Dr. Filart's garage. Or I'd see him asleep already when I come home a bit late. In the mornings, Manong would situate himself outside my Uncle Pedro's house, with his normal plastic bags and backpack, he'd sit there, quietly drinking from a Jollibee or Mini Stop cup, or eating a sandwich. He was Manong, the Yale TG, he was Manong, the TG that ate, drank and struggled to squeeze his way between the electric post and the taxi blocking the way to his temporary home. He was Manong, whom my sister gave a Christmas shirt too and from there we found out he changed clothes.
He was Manong, and we don't know where he is.
I started to notice Manong's "unpresence" around more than 2 weeks ago. Before the holy week. I went out in the morning as usual, on my way to catch the jeep to work. He was nowhere to be seen, not at Uncle Pedro's nor was he across the street where he sometimes goes as well... Days passed and Manong never seemed to be there when I got home from work... After the holy week I posed the question to my family, "Where was Manong?"
It was only then they realized he wasn't there. No one noticed...
But it still doesn't change things...
Where's Manong?
And how is he?
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
blahs
There seems to be so much to write about. Little things, big things (meron ba?), ordinary things, not-so-ordinary things, there is just so much. But I can't seem to find the correct words to put everything together.
Trying to drown my self's inner noise with the music of Jars of Clay, I try to type this entry. Nothing make sense. A touch would burn, a word could be easily regarded as static, nothing, absolutely NOTHING makes any sense.
But I'll try to sort them out here anyway.
Just this morning, my mom was convincing me that I was fat. She need not do that. Haha. I know all on my own. She went on saying my brother was complaining that I was getting bigger - right the 200 ++ pound guy spoke his mind about his little sister gaining a bit weight with the excuse that he's a guy and it's ok for him to be pot-bellied... RIGHT.
She goes on nagging me that I don't like to go jogging/walking with them when they go to Ateneo on Tuesday and Thursday nights. It's not that really... It's not that I prefer to not keep myself fit but it's just that I am so tired at the end of the day... and given the choice to go walking with my family for exercise or staying at home to have some "alone time," I'd gladly choose the alone time to sort the noisy thoughts in my head.
But then, I can't tell that, can I? They'd start thinking I was depressed, or into some trouble and they'd start recommending psychiatrists next.
Really, when I was given that chance to leave them for a week to go to Beijing last year, it felt great to have some quiet. I didn't miss them. It wasn't the independence that I craved, it's the quiet and the peace that you don't get when they're with you. Too much noise, too much formalities...too much of this and that which right now, I don't want to care about.
I told her I wanted to go swim weekly instead (she hates swimming) so here comes the violent reaction that I wasn't being practical, that walking was the best sport or whatever. Well, excuse me, in swimming, you use basically all your muscles. Oh, oh, let's not forget she mentioned the chlorine and getting dark. Yeah, leave it to my mother to be vain about these things. Why can't she just admit that she didn't like the water and the fact the going somewhere without her makes her rather a bit uncomfortable? Oh God. I appreciate a parent, especially since she's the only one left, but, being over attached? Help!
To be continued... My train of thought just died...
Trying to drown my self's inner noise with the music of Jars of Clay, I try to type this entry. Nothing make sense. A touch would burn, a word could be easily regarded as static, nothing, absolutely NOTHING makes any sense.
But I'll try to sort them out here anyway.
Just this morning, my mom was convincing me that I was fat. She need not do that. Haha. I know all on my own. She went on saying my brother was complaining that I was getting bigger - right the 200 ++ pound guy spoke his mind about his little sister gaining a bit weight with the excuse that he's a guy and it's ok for him to be pot-bellied... RIGHT.
She goes on nagging me that I don't like to go jogging/walking with them when they go to Ateneo on Tuesday and Thursday nights. It's not that really... It's not that I prefer to not keep myself fit but it's just that I am so tired at the end of the day... and given the choice to go walking with my family for exercise or staying at home to have some "alone time," I'd gladly choose the alone time to sort the noisy thoughts in my head.
But then, I can't tell that, can I? They'd start thinking I was depressed, or into some trouble and they'd start recommending psychiatrists next.
Really, when I was given that chance to leave them for a week to go to Beijing last year, it felt great to have some quiet. I didn't miss them. It wasn't the independence that I craved, it's the quiet and the peace that you don't get when they're with you. Too much noise, too much formalities...too much of this and that which right now, I don't want to care about.
I told her I wanted to go swim weekly instead (she hates swimming) so here comes the violent reaction that I wasn't being practical, that walking was the best sport or whatever. Well, excuse me, in swimming, you use basically all your muscles. Oh, oh, let's not forget she mentioned the chlorine and getting dark. Yeah, leave it to my mother to be vain about these things. Why can't she just admit that she didn't like the water and the fact the going somewhere without her makes her rather a bit uncomfortable? Oh God. I appreciate a parent, especially since she's the only one left, but, being over attached? Help!
To be continued... My train of thought just died...
Psyche Colors
| Your Psyche is Red |
 You are bright, bold, energetic, and intense. Your upbeat, zany energy inspires those who are down. Spontaneous and playful, you also have a courageous and fearless side. When you are too red: you are angry, overprotective, and truly scary. When you don't have enough red: you are depleted and lifeless. |
Monday, April 02, 2007
:p
hay. eto nanaman. iikot nanaman ang mundo ko.
just because little things pacify me.
lunch?
check if im alive.
stuff like that.
wala na.
everything goes away
a smile replaces everything else
i am at peace
and tomorrow will be another day
just because little things pacify me.
lunch?
check if im alive.
stuff like that.
wala na.
everything goes away
a smile replaces everything else
i am at peace
and tomorrow will be another day
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