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The oddest things just seem to happen with cab drivers

Cabbies are a fascinating lot. When they're not ranting about the government, they dispense the oddest things to make your commute more entertaining than the latest reality programme on the telly.

My top 10 cab-ride experiences:

1. Getting prayed over en route to a client meeting. Driver found out I was from the Philippines, assumed I was Catholic (I am, but not really) and proceeded to pray over me for the rest of the ride. An awkward 20 minutes, which by Singaporean standards, is loooong.
2. Hearing the driver sing along to a song about "your batuta" (policeman's nightstick) and some other phallic fruits on my way back from a meeting in Quezon City.
   
3. Being given blessings by a nice old cabbie to find a nice Singaporean man to "make me happy" during my first trip to Singapore.
   
4. Receiving shopping tips whilst I was in Bangkok for focus groups. The slightly effeminate driver excitedly told me about how cheap everything was in this city. So I should buy myself a few things, especially their women.
5. Arguing with them over my nationality. Gaddemit, I am Pinoy!
6. Getting a free ride after I offered to pay seventy Pesos in coins for my trip from Ateneo to Makati in 1998.
7. Hearing stories from cab drivers from Singapore about their adventures in the Philippines. It's actually a bit embarrassing to admit that they have explored our country more than I have. Their stories about Palawan and Quiapo are always the most interesting, I find.
   
8. Being taught how to speak in Bahasa Indonesia. Saya mau makan!
9. Getting cooking tips (turnips can make your soup sweeter!)
10. Having your mobile phone returned after you lost it in their cab.
    

Broken Social Scene at the Mosaic Music Festival

Why I didn't have my camera with me is a mistake I'd rather forget. But BSS@MMF is a blast!

Aia de Leon (Imago) helped open the show with 7/4 (Shoreline). Dancing in her bright-coloured leotards, it was hard to miss her energetic presence onstage. Predictably, they sang Lover's Pit and Fire Eye'd Boy. Not that I'm complaining. With no Feist in the line up that night, Swimmers wasn't sung. Boo.

A few friends came over to Singapore and it was nice having a slice of Manila for a few days. We feasted on bbq chicken wings, grilled sting ray, char kway teow, and all the Kickapoo Joy Juice one can drink. With the frequent influx of visitors to Casa Borromeo, we hardly feel out of touch with the goings-on back home. We still get copies of friends' latest albums, bottles of Cheez Whiz (yummy processed cheese that we can't seem to find in Singapore!), and other MSG-laden goodies a few times each year.

I love how events like these just compel people to travel just to experience it. Can't wait for the next big gig and I wonder who else will be coming to Singapore this year. Radiohead? DCFC?

Surreal in Manila

After moving to Singapore, travelling has been reduced to a minimum (no more MNL-SIN-JKT lagare). Most of the meetings now happen here, which suits me fine (I'm terribly enjoying cocooning at home with the hubby, Xbox360, PS3 and Wii in tow).

When I was told that we had to be in Manila for a few days, I was both excited and slightly thrown off at the thought of taking a work-related trip in reverse. It meant seeing family, friends, ex-colleagues, and perhaps sneaking in a much-needed visit to the salon vs. exploring a new city with pasalubong in tow.

I felt lightheaded as we wove our way through rush hour traffic towards the Makati CBD. Whether it was the early flight we had to take or simply being home for a few days left me disoriented. The jams I cursed each day are suddenly an alien experience.

Moving between our client's office and the temporary HQ that is my old agency, I didn't even have to make myself remember where things were. But the rhythm that my body remembered felt distant and temporary - it's like being there but not really. You don't have the luxury of having a beer run at 6pm, an indulgent lunch at Apt 1B, or sharing a hearty dinner with the folks after work. Weekends are not spent lazily browsing at Fully Booked or enjoying a plateful of pasta at Cibo.

And for the first time, it hit me.

I don't come home to Manila anymore.

Once you go black (sheep), you can't go back.

I am thrilled.

In a few days I am off to start a new job at an agency that I never thought I'd be working in. And it's not because I didn't want to.

The agency had a tough reputation for strategic planning. It leaves you intimidated and unnerved. And I was feeling unnerved and intimidated. Even the office gives off a similar vibe. The receiving area has a few white tables and chairs scattered about, and a lush, red "tunnel" leads you to the work area. No lobby or receptionist here. Unless you've got your contact's number, you will feel lost and a wee bit unwelcome (then again, maybe that's the intent).

It's another leap I'm taking that I'll gladly take the plunge for. My comfort zone needs mucking up, and this one guarantees just that.

Pico.

We just adopted my cousin's mum-in-law's four month old puppy. J, who is visiting Singapore with his wife knew how much of a sucker I was for mutts. The puppy had no where to go - he'll be either put up for adoption at SPCA or sent off to Indonesia with the wife's brother, who travels quite a lot for work.

It was a long drive from our place to the East Coast. I remember bringing along a towel, still uncertain whether we were going to go home with him that night. But the moment we saw him, we knew that he belonged with us.

We went home feeling good that night. G and I hardly spoke, just smiling and peeking into the towel we ended us using after all. The warm bundle sat on my lap, curiously sniffing me. He seemed at ease.

The house will be a little more messy, tinged doggy smells and some chewed up shoes. And perhaps 10x happier.

The view from the balcony

We love this bit about our place.

An extended room where peace settles in at night.

Pseudo candle-lit dinner dates.

Saturday brunch with adobo flakes and feta cheese.

Wet laundry hung out to dry.

And early morning secret meets.