I'm Not a Plastic Bag Sighting in Manila

September 27th, 2007 § 11

So Anya Hindmarch launched its line of “I’m not a plastic bagenvironmental bags a few months ago, and by now, it says (on its website) that all bags of that kind are already sold out in the United States.

I’ve always wanted one. If I was in the US, I probably lined up on the day it was launched and grabbed one for myself. I heard from Minic that his wife got hers for only $15 (around 650-700 pesos), and I was green with envy!

Fastforward to the other day, while on a vanity spree with my housemate at St. Francis Tiangge, I found an “I’m not a plastic bag” replica at some random stall, to my amusement.

I'm Not A Plastic Bag Philippines
I’m Not A Plastic Bag sighting at St. Francis Square, Ortigas

You can get it at 300 pesos, or, if you’re good, you can probably bargain up to 280 php. But of course, it’s far from the real thing. It looks the same, but the finish and the material used does not really cut it.

It’s interesting how environment-friendly stuff has become such an in-thing these days. It’s different from the ukay craze (which, for some reason, I happened to have outgrown already), or spending hours walking around Tutuban or Greenhills to scout for cheap fashion. While these types of bags do not really cost less than regular bags, the bold declaration of a worthy cause plastered on the bags is what makes them so posh.

A good friend, Miss Cathy Babao, also ventured into a similar project on reusable shopping bags. I’m still waiting to get my hands on one. Heehee. ;)

Moleskine Journal, Loving It!

September 24th, 2007 § 28

I’ve always wanted one. And I would have gotten it earlier if I wasn’t too lazy to go to the bank to deposit my payment. Bud could have gotten me one from a US supplier and at a cheaper price too (less than $10 + shipping), but I couldn’t wait any longer. Besides, why look far when we have our very own local Moleskine distributor in the Philippines anyway? ;)

Hence, after exchanging a few emails, and paying BPI a visit (which is just across the street from our office), my very first Moleskine Journal was delivered right to my desk last Friday — the very next day after my bank transaction — much thanks to the guys over at Moleskineph.com.


My first ever moleskine journal

Mababaw lang ang kaligayahan ko. A classic plain moleskine journal (the one “without boundaries”) was all I wanted, something to scribble my thoughts with anytime, preferably something small and handy which I can carry around with anywhere.


Yep, all for the price of 900 pesos — a bit expensive, but worth it, definitely.

I love its simplicity, and now, call it cheesy (or geeky, whatever), the thought that I’m writing on the pages of a “legendary” notebook which Hemingway and Picasso used to own adds up to the excitement of owning one. And the thought that artists from all over the world are writing on their own moleskines makes me feel like I’m one of them. Sheesh, their marketing tactic is really working for me, huh? Hehe.

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Oh, and I'm Still Alive

September 22nd, 2007 § 10

I was trying to identify what my blog’s niche is as part of my efforts to try to revive this site. I’ve been getting a consistent amount of site visits a day, and I hate to disappoint whoever you guys are. I mean, it’s like accepting you at my doorstep without nothing to offer you but leftovers from last night’s dinner, and old dusty photos you’ve already seen many times before. Sucks duuude.

Now to be part of someone’s top 10 blogs he can’t start his day without, and to be special-mentioned in a stranger’s blog in spite of my superb consistency at being inconsistent (whatev), I’m inspired even more to seriously strive to keep this blog alive. (Go mush!)

Anyway, going back, I figured it’s a futile effort to pre-define a niche for this blog because there really is nothing in general, unless you consider my blog categories as psuedo-niches. Let’s just say.. since my other blog is more particularly concerned with technology and gadgets and new media and internet marketing, all the other stuff that can’t be categorized there goes right here.

After all, what else can you expect from a personal blog? Stuff that the blogger is interested at, of course. Hence, as I am a woman of varying interests, you can expect my blog to be the same. This is my blog, and the niche is the 24-year old drama that Rhiza Sanchez’s life is. All ME. ME, ME, ME.

But okay. Fine. All this blahblahblah just to have an excuse to post my pictures.

My point is, ta-da! I’m still alive. And I’m back. For real. For good. Whatever. :P

Michael Scofield is Still Breaking Prisons

September 22nd, 2007 § 5

I forgot what my blog niche is. Then again, I can’t remember ever defining a particular niche anyway. I already mentioned in my about page once or twice that my domain name does not equate to the content of this blog. So no, you’re not going to find any guitar tabs, chords, or guitar how-to’s, here. I guess that’s pretty obvious. Haha.

Anyway, I heard someone say that one good way of knowing your blog’s niche is to look at keyword referrals, so I did, and I found out interesting things about my blog that I wasn’t aware of. Apparently, I’ve been getting a lot of hits from that post I made about Michael Scofield back when he was still the love of my life (sorry Mike, not anymore, and no, I’m not drooling over your pictures and making them my desktop’s wallpaper. NO. I mean, really.)

Oh, and I’m getting hits not just from the keyword “Michael Scofield” but, more specifically, from the keyword phrase “Michael Scofield gay“. Much thanks to Joni, who just happened to have mentioned the word “gay” in her comment on that post. I still refuse to think that he’s gay though. But okay, that’s beside the point.

It took me a while before I finally got to sit down and finish the last two episodes of Prison Break Season 2, because I was busy, and because I was experiencing withdrawal syndrome (something about missing my Dad because we used to watch PB together when he was still alive, and now, he never got the chance to know whatever happened to Michael amd Linc). But okay, that’s beside the point too. Haha.

The point is, I was trying to define what my blog niche is, and coincidentally, just the other day, I finally finished watching Prison Break’s Season 2 finale. Hay. Season 3 coming right up.

IMHO, they should have ended it right there at Season 2’s ending — the three of them, Michael Scofield, Linc Burrows, and Sarah Tancredi, sailing away to sunset, happily ever after amen. You know, they could have just given Wentworth Miller’s character a much deserved rest. I mean, come on, they made him break rules and prisons all year round, it’s tiring! Seasons 1 and 2 alone already made Prison Break a classic. They should’ve ended it right there and then and prevent further damage (LOL). I mean, seriously, I can’t quite imagine how Michael is going to pull off another breakout and still be all human, without looking like some superhero with a cape.

Oh well, whatcanisay, the business is earning, I can’t blame them if they want to extend it some more. Season 3 has just begun, and I heard they’re already cooking Season 4 up.

Anyway, the real point is (haha), here’s more Michael Scofield keywords for this blog. Only because he’s bald and I now have a thing for bald guys, and because he’s given this site a relevant amount of traffic. That’s all.

I’m over you, Michael Scofield. Consider this my break-up speech. Good luck on breaking prisons. :P

The Switchfoot Concert I Didn't Get to See

September 11th, 2007 § 12

..even though I have a ring-side ticket.


Image from Tina‘s Switchfoot In Manila site

I mean, seriously. That was really lousy of me to pick this day, of all days, to be all lethargic and (errr) to waste precious hours over Facebook. Yep, ladies and gents, I spent the whole day superpoking people, and flooding my Facebook friends’ inboxes with spam-ish invites, and nominating friends at Superlatives, and adding Facebook apps, and sending virtual gifts, drinks, and pastries. When I could have spent the night watching Switchfoot with some friends.

I. Don’t. Have. A. Life.

So don’t you dare rub it in and tell me how much you all enjoyed the concert. And Paolo Valenciano‘s, my forever-and-ever-amen crush since way back I-can’t-remember-when (but of course that’s before I found you), and his band, Salamin’s front act. And the Balut dare. And all the fun stories you had tonight. No. I don’t want to hear them, thankyouverymuch.

Meanwhile, I’m going to frame my unused ticket to remind me how much of a loser I’ve become. And, well, beg all of you to add me at Facebook, you know, just to make me feel a bit better about wasting away 800 bucks for a concert that I missed because of Facebook, and of sheer laziness.

P.S. But of course I didn’t Facebook-ed the whole day. And that wasn’t the real reason why I got lazy to go. But let’s not talk about that.

All my Bags are Packed, Im Ready to go

September 1st, 2007 § 9

Well, not really. A lot of my things are still out, and I still don’t know how to jam them all in these moving boxes.

After almost two years of staying under the same roof, we’re parting from some of our (soon-to-be-former) housemates and leaving this place we once called “home”. But it’s all good. Change is good, after all. And it’s not like I won’t be seeing Normi and Jen anymore. I’d still be staying with Aster anyway, and Ivy, a friend from way-back-diaper-days, will be joining us too. Plus we found the perfect apartment also, after a whole month of trying to look for one. It’ll be fun. And I’m excited and nostalgic and uhm, sleepy (right). But it’s all good. :)

So hey, I’m in the middle of a pile of clothes and boxes and shoes and dirty laundry right now, taking a break from all the packing, and trying my best to capture the moment and how it feels.

(Note worthy: This post is not brought to you by Tortillos or Merell.)

Now is the time to feel stressed, and to think of a nice long bath, but there’s still a lot to do. However, on top of the adrenalin rush, I can sense this teeny weeny bit of nostalgia in the air — which I think is inevitable, especially if you’re leaving a place you’ve spent some of the best months of your life in, and you’d most likely never set foot in that place again.

I mean, how can I forget all those nights I entered that door to find sanctuary in the four corners of this room after a long day at work?

Or that bulletin board that once was a collage of bills, and photos, and notes, and star-shaped pushpins?

And how can I forget that view from my favorite spot in the veranda — the same view where I last saw my Dad’s smile, (and the same place where I last felt your arms around me)?

Hay. Priceless moments in this place. I shall always remember.

I would have taken more pictures, but my mess awaits. This nagging voice inside my head keeps on reminding me that I’m no longer a little girl, and there’s no more yaya to pack my things and do the tasks that are supposed to be mine. Gah. It’s tiring to be an adult.

Tomorrow, we’ll be leaving this apartment, and will start filling a new one with new memories.

And it’s really not that big of a deal for me to be blogging about it.

Except that it once again made me think about how time flies so fast, and that life involves a lot of moving on.

Where am I?

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