My new career: Moviestar!

Eat, Poop, Bitch: One Woman's Search for Anything the Produces Solid BMs Across, Tarlac, Clark and Manila.

"A single woman, pretty much satisfied with her life, realizes she must travel halfway across the planet.  After a painful flight, she takes off on a round-the-country journey to "find solutions for other people's issues".

Rated B for Boring.

A New Hotel

We’ve stayed at 3 hotels so far on this trip.  A 5 star hotel in Manila, a 4 star hotel in Clark and now a 3 star hotel in Tarlac.  Work is in Tarlac and our hotel in Clark that’s  about an hour commute each way.  Brutal, especially when you’re commuting at night, by the time we get to work we’re ready for another nap.  So we decided to change venues and stay at the Microtel.  We checked it out last week and got a quick tour of the place before we moved.  There’s no restaurant, no room service, no gym, iron, blow dryer, elevator, running track, salon, pool and the bathtub is old.  But I DON”T care because it does have free Wifi, a microwave, a fridge that gets colder than room temperature, and it doesn’t smell at all.  No carpets to soak up any mystery smells.    Just smells like a room.  and I bought 2 vanilla candles at the “American Bazaar” store, where everything is 66 pesos, about $1.20 and now it smells like heaven. 

I didn’t watch any of the Superbowl.  Nobody knows what that is here.  I could have watched some of it online but what’s the fun in that?  Watching the Superbowl by yourself without chicken wings, beer  or commercials? Nah. 

Our new hotel has breakfast in the small lobby in the mornings.  It’s very basic, very basic.  I just want to eat something and go to my room.  There’s about 6 food selections and 2 servers.    There’s a suspicious looking dish of veggies that smells delish. It’s  boiling and cooked so in my eyes it’s safe.  It’s a sort of long stringy cabbage/lettuce kind of veggie.  So I’m chewing it but it’s doesn’t break down very easily at all, so I’m forced to just swallow.  Tasty.  But hard to chew not because it’s tough but because it’s kind of slimy.  Some of it gets caught in my back teeth and at the same time I swallow.  But the slimy stringy cabbage doesn’t go completely down my food pipe because the other tip of the SSC is stuck in one of my molars.  So I try to lodge it out of my teeth and I can literally feel a tug in my stomach because that’s how far it’s gone down, but it won’t go down all the way because it’s lodged in my tooth.  Deep breaths, deep breaths again.  I need to stop writing for a moment because talking about it is grossing me out.  But dang that was some tasty slimy cabbage.

Random thought: The Philippines, why is it called “The” Philippines.  The United States.  But not The Germany or The Kenya.  The Sudan, and now soon to be something called South Sudan.  Or The Bronx. But not The Mexico.  I have a lot of down time, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.

This is so awesome, I’m watching the Hulk, the original episodes of the Hulk! He always seems to be running away in super slomo from the explosive situation that he’s gotten himself into. RUN, RUN!!  People are so mean. 

Panic Attacks at the Mall

I’m pretty sure the Philippines is NOT like one of the other over populated countries like China or Japan.  There is room for people to move and plenty of space to stretch your legs.  So what is the deal with the lack of awareness of personal space?  I'm a native New Yorker,  a place that lacks plenty of space to stretch your legs, most New Yorkers are always pretty conscience of giving others their personal space.  If you're next in line at the ATM there is certain amount space that you will give that person.  If you're in line at the grocery store that space may not be so big.    Here it's a different story.

Example number one:

I go inside an accessory/purse store at the mall.  The sales lady greets me then stands about less than one foot  away from me to my side.  Just stands there staring.  I could see her from my peripheral vision and totally thought she was arranging something on a table next to me.  Nope, when I looked up she just flashed a big smile at me.  I move 3 feet and she moved with me.  Then I moved to the side just to see if she would follow me and she did.  I walked to the other side of the store and she followed.  I was about a half a second away from saying " can you please not stand so close to me" but then thought,  f it, I don't need any of this bling bling junk anyway. 

Same thing at the next clothing store I went to.

The third store I went to was one of those teeny bopper stores like Hot Topic.  I loved that they did not even acknowledge me when I walked in, they were too busy on their cell phones.  That’s where I spent my money.

Next stop: the grocery store.  I was getting queasy from the different smells of fish and industrial cleaners.  Finally I get to the check out counter and I'm already a little irritated because it took me so long to find anything that was appetizing.  I told the cashier "I'm paying this with cash (booze and deodarant) and this with credit (5 supersized bowls of Ramen Noodles Pho and 5 cans of pineapple juice, 2 cans of tropical fruit and 1 can of carrot juice) I start putting my items on the conveyor belt, but it's not a conveyor belt because it's not moving, and it's wet.  So I push all my items down towards the cashier which ensures that whatever  mystery liquid I saw is now completely spread on the bottom of my items.  Exhale.  An older lady standing behind me, very very close behind me, TOO close, on line then proceeds to start unloading her items.  Hey wait! I'm not done yet.  I still have stuff in my cart and she's starts unloading her stuff.  "Excuse me, I'm not done" I say.  She doesn't even look up to acknowledge me but stops unloading her cart.  I finish and look up at the cashier and she says "sorry maam, cash only"   I look up and there's a huge sign that says "Cash Only".  I take all my items and literally throw back in the cart.  It makes loud obnoxious cling clang sounds and everybody turns to look at me.  I don't care. CLING CLING CLANG.  The lady behind me is rolling her eyes at me.  I thought I was going to be escorted out by the Philippino police. I was so irritated. And embarrassed at my own behavior.  I just couldn’t help myself.   At that moment I thought "I just want to go home".  OK get over yourself .

Went back to the hotel, ran 4 miles, a hard grudge run, I was hyperventilating.  Then went to the gym and shut off the AC and did some yoga.  Ahhhhhh.........Exhale.

More movies:

Remo Williams (1985)-  I love this movie.

The Brady Bunch Movie – I love Jan’s afro and the voices in her head.

Taken with Liam Neeson.  This is a really awesome underexposed movie.  He’s a bad ass in it.  I became a fan of Liam Neeson when I saw “Satisfaction” another great 80s movie that I’ve seen about 20 times and used to have the soundtrack.  Justin Bateman, Liam Neeson and Julia Roberts.  That’s the order of their names in the trailer. 

and

Terminator!

Scooby Snacks, Ramen Noodles and San Miguel.

I never knew how good PB&J could be. 

I thought I had everything under control.  The stomach is under control, I’m adjusting to the hours and getting some good sleep.  I wake up yesterday morning and BAM I have a rash on my chest.  The bad news is,  It aint pretty, little bright red bumps.  The good news is that it doesn’t itch and I woke up in the middle of the “night” (3pm) and it was gone.  All gone, what a relief.  That bad news is that when I woke up this morning it was back again.  Not as red and ugly as the day before but still there.  Could it be the cleaning products?  The PB&J, stress, bedbugs?  I went to the onsite nurse and she just stared at me like a mute.  “Well?!  What do you think?” She took my temperature in my armpit (normal) and  handed me a little packet of calamine lotion.  Thanks a lot.

Movies  and TV I’ve watched in my hotel room:

Australia: Hugh Jackman, you beautiful thing you.

Nothing In Common: 80s movie with Tom Hanks, Sela Ward and Jackie Gleason http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nothing_in_Common

Get Smart: Steve Carell and Anne Hathaway.  He’s hilarious and she’s annoying.

Scream

Little Black Book with Brittany Murphy and Holly Hunter, wow that was a bad movie, well for how much I saw of it.  Brittany Murphy weighed  about 80lbs in that movie.  Poor girl, RIP.

Oprah’s New Kids On the Block reunion.

CNN: history being made in Egypt.

I also like to watch the Hotel Info channel. Sometimes I just sit on my bed and stare at it. The crappy radio in my room is all static.  The Hotel channel has a smooth asianish /comtemporary instrumental elevator tune, it plays continuously.   It makes me feel  all Kenny G-ish.   These melodies can also be heard in certain Chinese buffets.  Like that big one in Overland Park across from the Walmart on 94^th and Metclalf.   The same “songs” over and over again.  Over and over again.  China Star or Panda Star or some kind of Chinese star. 

Speaking of Chinese, Happy Chinese New Year, Year of the Rabbit. I was trying to get to bed yesterday and heard some major ruckus outside my window.  Sounded like a jack hammer, what the!!!????  It was 4 hotel dudes playing the some huge drums and about 5 guys wearing one of those red lion dance costumes.  The celebration lasted as long as it took for them to dance around the gazeebo.   1 minute max, then the party was over. 

For me it's the year of the Bikram Yoga Rabbit.

Misc food and stuff prices:

1 can of San Miguel Light Philippino beer – 30 pesos.  About 80 cents.

1 can of Heineken – 207 pesos, about $4

1 medium bag of Lay BBQ potato chips 150 pesos $3.40

McDonald’s Egg Mcmuffin, hash browns and Tang (aka OJ) 95 pesos $2.15

Coach purse -  1000 pesos $22 (it might be a knock off)

2 pieces of Fried chicken and a big ole scoop of white rice in the work cafeteria-37 pesos =$.84

7 days of Wifi at the hotel  $2500 pesos=$54

1-6 liter  bottle of water – 67 pesos – $1.50

 If you order a burger and fries in a restaurant here you would think the fry guy forgot to put fries on your plate because you just get a small handful.  Not like home where it’s half the plate.  Everything is smaller here, the people, the egos, the noise level, the prices. 

The only thing supersized here are the Ramen noodles.  The ramen noodles in the convenient stores and grocery stores are the size of a bowl that takes both hands to pick up.  And that shit is tasty.  That’s my new thing, Pho Ramen noodles from 7-11 and sprite zero.

SuperSizeMe Ramen Noodles- $53 pesos  $1.20.

I’m currently watching Scooby Doo in Tagalog, the Philippino language.

Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallehhhhhhhlujahhhhhhhhhhhh

I found a grocery store and filled my cart with the most non exotic foods the Philippines has ever seen.  Remember the movie Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, right after the dinner of eyeball soup and monkey brains? Indiana goes to Kate Capshaw’s room and she thinks he’s trying to seduce her but all he’s doing is offering her a basket of apples and oranges?  If you know that scene, that was me in the grocery store today. 

White bread, PB & J, mixed berry yogurt, Special K cereal bars, tropical fruit in a can, oranges and white tea.  Ahhh what a relief.  No more prepared foods for me for at least a week.  I’ll be brown bagging it to the call center going forward.  In addition to all that boring food, I bought liquid Lysol, Lysol in a can, rubber gloves, disinfectant wipes and scrubbed  the shit out of this room from top to bottom.  I looked like Cinderella scrubbing the floors before the ball, I think I was just chanelling my energies, I was a cleaning freak.  I even wiped down every item of food I bought from the Hypermarket.  I scrubbed the bathroom floors, the dressers, the tv, the door knobs, the counter tops, everything.  I feel more at ease and my stomach is feeling better.  Tonight’s menu: low fat peanut butter without partially hydrogenated evils, strawberry smuckers jam on white bread, almonds, an orange and white tea.  Yawn and Yum.

Jollibees and Tigers

I’m glad I made friends with the drunken Navy boys with too many tattoos.  Jesse told us about a place called Zubic Zoo.  You can feed the tigers and take pictures.  I’m so in.  Our hosts plan the trip and off we go, 5 of us in a minivan-plus the driver-off to the zoo that’s about 1 hour away.  My Philippino cohort convinces us that we must try the popular fast food chain Jollibees.  It’s the McD’s of the Philippines.  I’m excited to try it out.  I’m convinced I’m going to love it.  Surely they’ll have grilled chicken breast…. nope.  I opt for the #1-The Champ meal.  Burger, fries, soft drink.  Easy enough.  Fries were ok, the sprite was delectable and the burger tasted like one of those beef patties that school cafeterias buy in bulk.  There’s a seasoning that tasted like curry or cinnamon or cardamom or turmeric or something like that.  The ketchup taste like old school generic ketchup.  Now I think I can say that generic ketchup has come a long way because now cheap ketchup, in my book, still tastes like Heinz.  I’m not big on ketchup but when it comes to French fries I’m a ketchup whore.  Philippino ketchup has certain twangy, tangy bite to it and it’s a lot thinner, more like thin gravy than a hearty sauce.  No tang, no twang, I just want sweet tomatoes, preferably with high fructose corn syrup.  Nope, no likey the Jollibee burger.  I had that burger at about noon and at 9pm I was still burping up essence of Jollibee.  I’m so hungry I eat half of my burger before I realize, “hey I don’t like the taste of this”  I did indeed like the taste of the French fries.  Unfortunately as one of my fellow international traveler/bloggers pointed out, stick to the fried foods, they’re pretty safe.  http://www.jollibee.com.ph/index.php?/menu/menu_list.   An hour on the road and we get to Zubic.  It’s not like Six Flags or any kind of amusement park, that as soon as you hit the town there are signs everywhere pointing you in the direction of your destination.  You just gotta know how to get there.  Once we get into the vicinity we start driving up a pretty windy road for about 20 minutes.  Surely this must be they way right?  We come to a fork in the road.  There’s an arrow pointing the right that says “ZubicTreetop Adventure” that’s not us, we’re want Zubic Safari.  The road ahead of us has 2 very large signs that read “DO NOT ENTER” One sign on the left, one sign on the right.  Well we’re not going to the Treetop and…what the hell are you doing dude?  DO NOT ENTER!! He don’t care, he’s going straight.  After about 50 yards there’s a sharp turn in the road, he don’t give a fuck, he’s going!  Standards, expectations and emotions are different overseas because I just sat there like a mute while he drove through the 2 DO NOT ENTER signs.  But it’s the same when it comes to directions because apparently we had been lost for a while until the driver decided to asked for directions.  We made a couple of u-turns and passed through “toll bridge” of some sorts.  In the Philippines there’s a “guard” at every town entrance. They may or may not stop you.  This one did.  Someone wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.  That’s ok, the police officer turned a blind eye after he was offered 300 pesos-about $6.  We get to the Zoo Safari entrance, which looked identical to any Six Flags Safari entrance, and that was it, no more similarities.  The bathrooms were clean and decent with a Zafari tropical feel, because it was “outdoors”, no AC.  I would prefer a filthy gas station bathroom with toilet paper.  What good is a clean bathroom without toilet paper?  I asked one of the attendants for toilet paper and she just shrugged and walked away.  My Philippino coworker then went over to another attendant and must have said something like “please excuse her, she’s American, she needs her toilet paper”  Not that I ever sit on public toilet seats, but I would like the option, but there was no lid, just the ceramic top portion that the lid lays on.  I then unrolled half of the roll and saved in my purse for any other visits to the toilet.  The sink looked like one of those super modern sinks that have one knob, like the one at the bathroom in Kona Grill on the Plaza that tries to mimic a tropical safari feel.  But it wasn’t mimicking anything,  it was a tropical safari sink with a bottle of hand soap duct taped to a thin pipe on the wall.   Ahh feeding the tigers. For 300 pesos you can feed a tiger with a baby bottle, pet the tiger, hold the tiger’s tail and take pictures.  Not a bad gig, I think.  All the tiger has to do is sit up on a table while he gets petted and fed.   I’m sure PETA would disagree.  I was kind of nervous and thought about the Zigfried and Roy disaster, was that going to happen to me?  How long would it take for that tiger to rip half my face off?  Can he smell fear? No that’s dogs and bees right?  I petted it like a big stuffed animal.  So adorable, like a big kitty cat.    It’s not like a zoo back home, you just don’t walk around on your own, there’s a tour guide.  It was interesting but there’s only so much you tell me about, camels and birds before I get bored and want to move on.  Then there was the Animal Parade.  First in the parade….2 huge hogs on a miniature float, one with a wedding veil and another with a bow tie with a sign behind  the float “Just Married”.  I don’t think that’s such a good gig like the tigers.  The Animal Parade is being MC’d by a loud Philippino female with intense techno music in the background.  There were bleachers that seated a couple hundred people, all full, and a stage.  In between the stage and the bleachers was the Parade route.  I can’t remember what animal it was but when it came out the Philippinos started bowing. There were horses and turkeys and even chickens.  I’ve never been to an animal parade bere.   Next stop, the Cave of Horrors, which was like a really bad haunted house but really not scary.  They had real animals like owls and lizards but they also had a stuffed actual size zebra and lion.   Next stop, The Jeepney Tiger Feeding Event.  Jeepneys are the most popular form of public transportation, made from surplus US military jeeps sold or given to the Philippine government after US troops began leaving the Philippines after WWII.  These special Jeepneys are fortified with steel rods, they better be. The tigers  jump on the sides of the Jeepneys and you can volunteer to feed the tiger raw chicken parts.  Gag and barf.  The guide opened a tiny tiny “door” on the side of the Jeepney like a prison food slot, he stuck his whole f’in hand out and as soon as the tiger got about 6 inches away he pulled the chicken parts and hand back in and then fed the tiger thru a smaller slot.  I looked down and saw a piece of pink, raw chicken in between the seat and the side of the jeepney.  It was dry like it has been sitting there for a while.  Gag.  Sounds so gross, yes but those tigers were amazing.  Ferocious.  Next stop, the Crocodile House.  F that, we’re tired, let’s head back.  

Funky Smells

When I walk out of my hotel room it’s a mix of strong and cheap air freshener/ fabric softener, diesel fuel and curry.  The hotel lobby smells like too much cold air and old lady perfume.  When you step outside, well  it really depends on what side of the hotel you are on.  If it’s the front of the hotel, it smells like wet air with wiffs of fertilizer.  The back of the hotel smells like chlorine.  My most favorite area of the hotel is the elevator.  It doesn’t smell like anything.  There’s about a 15 degree difference in the elevator since there’s no AC in there but I love it. It smells like nothing.  I rode the elevator up and down a few times just to enjoy the neutrality of the smell,  but since there are only 7 floors, you can imagine it wasn’t a very long ride.  The main dining room of the buffet restaurant smells like slight mixture of ammonia and mildew. 

Our commute is about 45 minute to an hour to work.  There’s one toll bridge and when the driver opens the window it smells like 1985 perm.  Remember that perm smell?  Those chemical toxic perm concoctions we ladies used to put in our hair to make it curly.  Well not me, I have curly hair but jeeezz do I remember that smell like it was yesterday.  And I’m not talking about a slight hint of perm, I’m talking about having a wet head of hair with perm toxins sitting in it  and you putting the tip of your nose right up the hair and taking a big ole sniff.  Oh my oh my oh my.  Then we just have to sit here and suck in those toxic fumes.  I have no idea what it is but your internal survival instinct tell you that smell is “no bueno!” 

There’s a 4 kilometer track just a block away from the hotel. But the security guard has to open this ginormous rod iron gate to let you out.  Then when you’re done from running you have to find another security guard to let you back in.  The conversation between the security guard who let back onto the hotel grounds:

SG: you American? 

Me: Yup 

SG: You American beautiful woman?  (in a form of a question) 

Me: I guess so  SG: What’s your room number? 

Me: wtf? Get away from me.

Now if I was in the US I would be all up in the hotel managers’ face filing a complaint and for sure getting something for free.  But what am I supposed to do here?  Get this guy fired?  Why the hell does he want my room number.  Are you gonna bring me fresh towels?  I’m pretty sure he would be fired.  They don’t f around over here. 

I just killed a mosquito the size of a horsefly.  I’m not exaggerating I stared at the sucker for about 15 seconds before I wiped it off the glass wall with the restaurant place mat. I’m itchy all over now.  It’s 7am.  I’ve been up for about 3 hours.  I have to go to work at 9am tonight.  I want to drink coffee so badly right now but I’m afraid it will mess up my stomach.  Here’s my plan: Stay up until noon.  Take a Lunesta, go to bed and wake up at 7:30pm.  Have dinner and go to work.  I’ll get back at 8am ish.  Then what? Go to bed?  Zzzzzzzzzzz

Here are the things I’ve have realized I can do without since I’ve been here.  My smart phone,  Earrings, facebook, make up, booze and $6 cigarettes.

Here are the things I miss: Driving to work in the AM, Yoga, oatmeal, plain tomatoes, checking my email every 10 minutes, tap water, chicken breasts, my boyfriend ,big garden salads, solid bowel movements, smell of fresh air in the morning and my friends.

I have to say I’ve been a little sad and lonely the past couple of days.  Between not sleeping right, not eating right, being afraid that if I fart I’ll shit my pants and missing home, it hasn’t been the best trip.  It’s not supposed to a vacation or anything, it is what it is.  Also we’re not really enjoying the country.  We’re working nights and sleeping during the day.  We’re the working class, not tourists.    There really is no downtime, the way downtime should be. For me downtime is coming home from a stressful day at work and working out and coming home feeling soothed and relaxed.  Maybe a hot shower and a cold glass of wine in front of the television. Then looking forward to one of those friggin delish Puertorican meals I cook.    Here we’re getting home when everyone is waking up. I can’t have a  drink at 9am before breakfast.  Thinking and writing about being sad and lonely is making me more sad and lonely.  It’s kind of that sad feeling that goes along with a really bad hangover.  It’s not true sadness, it’s just your mind and body playing tricks on you.  The good news is that I’ve been here for 1 week and it feels like 2.  The better news is that I’m here for 2 more weeks. It’ll feel like spring by the time I get home. 

We went to the 4 star restaurant in the hotel in Manila.  4 stars my ASS!  Let’s talk about customer service again.  These people are sweet as pie but just because they are nice doesn’t mean they deliver what they should.  It doesn’t matter what kind of restaurant it is, they don’t clear your plates, they don’t refill your drink or ask if everything is OK.  This has been our experience at the TGI Friday’s, the airport restaurant, the breakfast restaurants or the 4 star restaurant, Red, inside the Shang Ri La.  I ordered a glass of white wine.  7 minutes later my glass was still empty. I’m getting irritated and again if I was in the US I would already be complaining to someone, I’m thirsty dammit!!!! 7 minutes is a long time to be waiting for overpriced cheap wine.  Finally she comes over and starts to pour wine in my glass.  At this point I’m salivating as I watch the liquid fill the glass then all of a sudden she gasps. I’m like Wtf?  I get scared and I gasp.  She looks at the glass and says “so sorry sorry maam” in her cute Philippino accent.  I’m thinking there’s a lizard in my glass or some kind of live insect or some shi!. She grabs the glass and points to a drop of water on the upper inside of the glass.  I’m not kidding, a DROP of water.  I say “ what are you talking about?  That drop of water?” she says “so sorry maam, yes maam, I get you other wine”  My hand starts to reach for the glass while I say “don’t worry about it, it’s a drop of water, my hand almost touches the glass and she snaps it away.  “no maam, no maam” now I’m irritated.  I want that wine, and I want it now, I don’t care.  I’ve been sniffing toxic fumes for 3 days, I want my wine!!! She puts the glass on the table to adjust her grip on the wine bottle and I go for the wine glass, I grab it and she grabs it and here I am in a playing tug of war with a glass of white wine.  My co-worker says “give her the f’in glass” the waitress is almost in tears as she says “please maam, my boss, please, the boss may see”.  Holy crap?  I reluctantly let go of the that godforsaken glass of cheap wine.  It took her another 7 minutes to bring me another glass.  

The Morning After and more Metric System

I woke up this morning with soreness all over my body, flu like soreness. Oh please oh please, I can handle Hershey squirts but please not the flu. The soreness is not from being sick or getting ready to get sick.  It’s from thinking I’m doing bicep curls with 10 lb free weights when it’s really 22 lb free weights or 44 lbs on the ab machine instead of 20.  Everything in my body is sore right now.  Every single muscle I overused is sore.

Let’s go back to the bar that I never left, the night before.  Copa turned into an all night Kareoke party.  I got to the bar Thursday night 8-9ish.  My work day needed to start on Friday at 9pm.  So here are my options:

1.        Go to bed like a normal person at about midnight, sleep til about 8 or 9 am.  But if I do that I’ll have to go to work at 9pm that night and work thru the night, meaning I’ll be up for 24 hours straight. 

2.        Don’t go to bed until Friday 5-6 am, sleep til about 4-5 pm and then get up and prepare for a 9pm start of the work day.

I opted for #2.  I made friends with Navy boys and drank white wine and water.  More water than wine.  I knew I had to stay up but I knew I needed not to be sloshed.  One of the navy boys, Jesse, had his own sheet music and borrowed the band’s guitar and sang an awesome rendition of Pink Floyds Comfortably Numb.  Standing ovation, even by the drunk Koreans.  The drunk Korean sang a forgettable rendition of Elvis Presley’s Cant Help Falling in Love with You, that started off like this “Wife men stays only pools roll in. 

At about 4am I decide to throw in the towel and go to my room.  I struggled to stay up and watch very dramatic Philippine television.  I can do it, I can do it, just stay up until 5.  I fall asleep and wake up at 6:45 at which time I decide the best thing to do is eat breakfast.  If I fall asleep now I will have gone almost 24 hours without eating.  Nothing looks appetizing, especially not the fisheye egg omelet.  There’s some kind of orange brownish sauce that’s covering some kind of mystery meat.  That’s when I feel the rumble in the jungle.  Am I making myself sick or am I really sick.  I sit down with a simple plate of romaine lettuce tomatoes and 3 pieces of sushi.  After about 10 seconds I have to put my plate down and dash to the bathroom.  I can kind of feeling it coming up.  I run into the bathroom and there’s one stall available and by the smell of it, has probably been recently used by a fellow American with loose stools.  I react as if someone just put an ammonia stick under my nose and search for another stall that doesn’t smell like a shit bomb just exploded in it.  Nothing.  I force myself to go back into the stall and in retrospect that was probably the best because there was none of that hesitant gagging dry heaving before the main show.  One quick sniff and Release The Hounds!!!! Projectile vomiting is a good thing when you want what’s in your belly to come out NOW!

Day 3 and the Metric System

Customer service is a unique entity in the Philippines.  A Philippine will refer to you as maam or sir a total of about 17 times in a 2 minute conversation.  Everything ends with sir or maam.  Hello maam, how are you maam, would you like a drink maam, a diet coke maam, yes maam I’ll get you a diet coke maam, thank you maam, thank you maam.  That’s one continuous run on sentence, no breaks in between.  I love the Philippines, a waiter just came up to me and asked me “would you mind if I ask you a question? Are you the new Priority Club boss?  They told me she looks like a movie star and I thought that was you”   These people are doing wonders for my ego.  And you guys already know that I’m  the president of my own fan club as it is.

Since I won’t be doing my Bikram for then next 3 weeks I decided the free weights are going to be new best friend.  I don’t know if it’s the climate change or the environment but it was a crappy performance at the gym.  I can usually push and pull 60 lbs on the pully shoulder machine.  This morning at 45 or so I was struggling.  I was determined I, and that machine wasn’t going to win.  I adjusted the incline ab bench to about 20 lbs which is challenging but nothing outrageous,  I just couldn’t’ get my engine running, I was struggling like a newbie at the gym.  I though I was going to bust a vein in my forehead and a few people looked at me like “you alright honey?”Don’t look at me like mofo!!! I do Bikram, I sit in a room that’s 110 degrees and sweat until I start hallucinating, this is child’s play.  Note to self, kilograms not lbs.  kilograms is more than lbs. nuff said. 

Wasabi potatoe chips.  Yum and yuk.  You know how on a drunken night right before you got to bed you may or may not have access to a large bag of cool ranch doritos or taco bell burritos?  Well imagine having the taste of wasabi on your mouth the morning after.  That’s not the case but when I tasted the m I thought, please no  one give me wasabi potatoes chips at 3am if I go on a binder in the Philippines.

It’s about 9pm and I’m at the Club Copa a Cuban themed bar in the hotel.  There are 7-8 Americans boys at the bar. .  They have high and tight haircuts and are all tatted up.  Not military, they’re not clean cut enough and not cops, not serious enough.  The only black guy in the bunch is wearing a t-shirt with the work “inmate” written on the back.

There’s a couple of overdressed, Philippino chics wearing a size 6 when they are size 8, wearing to o much make up and white “pumps” and flip phones at a side table.  Kind of like the Human Trafficking girls at the line in Vegas.  Let me say that Philippine girls are very pretty. They are a mix of Asian and Latina.  Hotties, now the girl across the bar from me is not a hottie but she does have a motorcycle helmet at her side.  That’s hot in my book even if your jeans are from 1984 and you’re wearing blue eyeshadow.

Tuesday or Wednesday I’m confused. Day 2

Thursday Jan 27

We made it in one piece to the hotel.  .  I don’t know what it is about the move “You Got Mail” ya know the one with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.  It was an option on the plane and PPV in the hotel.   That movie is like 20 years old.  Those are the “foreign things” that I don’t get. 

Jason and I decided to go the gym and Jennifer and Trina decided to take a nap.  This hotel gym was the busiest hotel gym I’d ever been to.  It was nice and clean with glass pitchers of water with lemon slices.  Looked so inviting, but I won’t be touching that tap water with a 10 foot pole(and here’s the 3^rd time “You Got Mail” commercial is on in the past hour.)

There were a couple of buff looking dudes in there.  There was one gentleman with a fake bake, looked English, green eyes and slim, maybe 45-50 and handsome.  I was on the incline ab machine and he was “strolling” around the machines closest to me.  All of a sudden I hear a ruckus and a bang and down went the English man.  It was a messy fall because all the machines are really close to each other and there were like 3 machines that broke his fall.  He jumped to his feet and we had eye contact. The 3 other dudes next to him just turned their heads slowly to the other direction and made believe they didn’t see anything.   I chose to break the ice by laughing and saying “you alright buddy? Can I give you a hand”  He laughed a nervous laugh and I said “that looks like a difficult machine to work,I”ll stay away from it” he laughed then I stared laughing then I got that uncontrollable laugh bc I kept picturing him falling like a bag of bricks to the ground and the more I tried not to laugh the harder I laughed, then I apologized for laughing so hard.  Now that was a good ab workout.

Philippines in the news:

http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/inquirerheadlines/nation/view/20110127-316841/Probers-see-Abu-behind-bus-blast

I don’t know if it’s because of the bus explosion or if this is the way Manila is.  There is a cop on every corner at every door way to every mall in every restaurant.  They “check” yoru bag.  The way they check your bag a Arrowhead, barely check it.  (Another You Got Mail commercial) We walked around but didn’t venture too far from the hotel, when we got back there were police with automatic weapons and bomb sniffing dogs in the lobby. It aint the tap water or dirty tacos that’s going to give me loose stools,  it just might be the DEFCON RED alert  feeling in the hotel that’s taking my nerves over the top. 

But what are you gonna do? Be paranoid?  Paranoid is a delusional feeling, whereas a bombing in the city I’m currently at is not delusional, correct?  I’m so thirsty right now and there’s a tall glass of ice water staring at me in the face that was delivered along with my morning room service coffee.  Nope, gotta get the bottled water.  Ughh, there’s a rumble in my belly just thinking about it.

Day Negative 1 and Day 1

For those of you who know me well, you know that I have a knack for keeping a journal.  I’ve kept a journal since I was 12.  Since before Aunt Flo ever came to town.  When I graduated HS I put all my journals in a suitcase that never found itself to my designation  of Ft Lauderdale FL where I spent the summer in between senior year and college freshmen year.  I remember keeping hope alive for a good number of weeks.  I was 16 when I graduated HS and quite the optimist.  I truly thought I would relive my journals in a  ABC afterschool special.  Never happened.

The start of my college freshman year I started writing again.  And my words today can’t describe the circus that was my life.  My girlfriends and I have a monthly ritual called HODIN, that’s another story, and in these HODINS we have dinner and lots of wine, and after dinner and lots of wine we break out my old college journals and the shit that used to come out of my brain and onto paper is more than we can handle.  The only reason it’s so funny is because I thought no one would be reading it.  It was dedicated to the children I don’t have.  That’s not a downer, because when we we’ve been drinking and we read the foreword to my journals we practically pee our pants.

So I will try to the best of my ability to be candid and true hearted when writing about my journeys to the other side of the world with my 4 coworkers.   It really is so hard to be truthful on paper, when what you feel is “documented” which is why these words are for the dedicated few. 

Day -1.  Not Day 1, Day Negative 1, the day before my trip.  Pepto bismol, calomine lotion, alka seltzer, advil, Prep H ( for the bags under my eyes) bandaids,  antimalaria pills, sleeping pills, birth control pills,  a walking pharmacy.  Work  clothes, fun clothes, casual clothes, work out clothes, staying in clothes, Jesus that’s more planning than I’ve done all year.  Chargers and cameras and laptops and ipods and chargers and socks and wtf?  I don’t even want to go on this trip.  How can I not want to experience a new culture on the other side of the world, doing something I enjoy….. for free.

My bf which we will call 27, has only but a few duties while I’m gone.  Air out my condo and put some bills in the mail.  Only 2 bills, the only 2 bills that cannot be autopay or paid online.  20 minutes before I he drives me to the airport I’m trying to explain the simple procedure of paying my bills because in my head its simple and why the f can’t he read my mind?  I’m already stressed and I feel the Puertorican heat bubbles up inside of me.  I snap at him he rolls his eyes and turns the other way.  Oh snaps, settle down Maria, I can’t leave for 3 weeks on a sour note. Traveling and bad directions give me the Puertorican heat wave.  I’m pda needy in relationships and unfortunately 27 is not.  So when he drops me off at the terminal it’s a quick kiss and a hug and smile and a genuine “have a good trip” and off he goes.  In my head he barely came to a stop, just a slow roll and me jumping out.  Up in the distance I see Jennifer who’s struggling with 7 carry ons.  I’m pretty sure her husband stopped the car for her to get out.  For some reason I think calories don’t count in the airport and have a  Burger King meal.   Yum and Yuk.  Land in LA for a brief 8 hour layover.  The 4 of us with our 16 pieces of luggage build a fort at a long booth in front of the Haggan Daz and I decide calories don’t count in LAX and have McDs for lunch. 

Since we got to the airport so early we couldn’t check in, which gave me time to walk around the duty free and browse things I was never going to buy.  All around me were Asian faces, Syngapore airlines, Korean air, Luftansa,  unfamiliar airlines that I probably will never travel.  It felt surreal, am I the outsider?  Where the hell am I?  Am I still in the US?  We are the only non Asian faces at the terminal for a few hours.  Then a couple of white faces come strolling through but not American.  It feels like we’ve been there for a while and yet we still have another 5 hours to kill. Then Jason says, that sucks what happened in Russia.  2 suicide bombers in a Russian airport kills 35 people and injures 100.  That happened while we were in LAX. Within a half hour there’s a noticeable presence at LAX of the airport police.  Now don’t get me wrong I have soft spot for all LE but let’s be real, the airport police…………is the airport police.  People who want to be cops don’t have the dream to one day be….airport police.  In my experience, and I could be wrong but AP is where you end up when you don’t qualify for the city Pd and are over qualified for campus security.  Is that mean? It’s true.  One cop was walking around with an AK47 and mean mugging people.  Really dude? AK47, that’s going to scare a suicide bomber,  And another  thing I know about cops, when you’re a bad ass you don’t need sport a gun the size of a small child to be a bad ass.  Bad asses know who they are and they let that speak for themselves.   Who knows what kind of training they get and maybe that’s what they think will scare someone with a bomb vest tied to their chest. 

Business class is ad bomb.  Unless someone is rubbing my feet and feeding my grapes in 1^st class I’m totally digging business class.   Time

went by fast in the lounge and maybe I was not worthy of business class since I currently have contraband in my backpack i.e. granola bars and bloody Mary mix.  I was close to smuggling some booze in my bag but was a big girl and decided against it.

I never knew how uncomfortable sitting in a plane for 20 hours cold be.  And we’re in business class so we could walk around and our seats reclined all the way back They fed us 3 times on the plane, for a minute I thought they  were over feeding us but then I realized I was on that plane for 20 hours.  How about fish for breakfast and it wasn’t lox and bagels. 

So here I am in business class sitting next to a Philippine business man who is thinking what’s that smell?

Do I take the Lunesta?  I’m scared I’ll start talking in my sleep or make a spectacle out of myself.  The last time I took Lunesta, 2 weeks ago I had a dream that Mathew Maconahay was my bf.  I love Lunesta.