Saturday, March 28, 2015

Problem Solving

ABC is good at three skills. The problem is that she's good in a sense that there is no place for any more improvement. 

She wants to improve skill X, but she found herself struggling only to find out that her level of skill X plummeted to point zero. And from point zero, she never had a chance to go up again.

Makes sense?

Thursday, March 26, 2015

The career advice I wish I had at 25

Always rushing only leaves you empty, and tired. It is fine to give yourself permission to take some time in the slow lane with the hat people.

Shane Rodgers

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

The Fisher

One more thing
Why is it your fault?
So maybe you're trying too hard
But it's all because of this desire
You just wanna to be liked
You just wanna to be funny
Looks like the joke's on you
So call yourself "Captain Backfire"

*words in bold faces were replaced from John Mayer's song: My Stupid Mouth :)

Fisher boy, one day you'll eat those words.

Thursday, March 19, 2015


Are they really expecting for a home cook to be 100% knowledgable about food??
From history of a dish to the different kinds of spices? Or the Latin/Spanish origin of the term?
To further ignite my frustration, are home cooks expected to know the Eight Culinary Cuisines of China?
Then what is the difference between a chef/culinary student and a home cook? PLEASE TELL ME.

I know I have a lot to learn about these things BUT going back, it's a competition among the home cooks! I believe some culinary student can pass that test and some might not even name the 10 kinds of curry and the different types of adobo, but come on! It's just for audition! They haven't tried the REAL knowledge in the kitchen yet. 

Isn't it that passion for cooking and knowing what you're doing (and you WILL be doing with limited ingredients) in the kitchen would suffice the qualification? Just for the audition?? 

And you know what? The challenge is when someone is not 100% familiar with an ingredient and that person pulled it off with his/her cooking. And that is also the time when your 0% knowledge is filled. Remember the story of an empty cup? 

But hey, thanks for tapping me to expand my knowledge in kitchen vocabulary.

Please bear with my ranting. But I WANT TO REDEEM MYSELF. SO BAD.

So, here's another validation that my last name is indeed Hopeless.

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Quiet Love

A repost from a news article:

Illustration by Elizalde Pusung
I didn’t grow up in an openly sweet household. I don’t recall my parents saying “I love you” to each other on a daily basis, nor do I remember seeing them hug and kiss in front of other people. There was no abundance of flowers during anniversaries, no attention-grabbing cards and teddy bears, no elaborate surprises engineered with friends.

This lack of romance might seem baffling and unacceptable to a generation whose idea of love involves flash mobs and viral videos and a deluge of couple selfies on Facebook. Nowadays it seems that if you don’t express your love loudly enough, it doesn’t count.

But if there’s one thing I learned from my parents, it’s the beauty of quiet love. One that focuses on depth, not volume, and is unmindful of the crowd. Love that is expressed not through grand gestures or eloquent pronouncements, but through quiet service.

I saw it whenever Papa woke up in the middle of the night to massage Mama’s lower back to try to ease the pain caused by colon cancer.

It was love that gave my bedridden mother the strength to leave their room and perilously make her way down the stairs every afternoon, just to make sure our helper was preparing a decent meal for our family.

It was love that drove Papa to spend what little spare time he had to design and build a vehicle that had enough space to accommodate Mama’s botaka chair.

Theirs was a love that didn’t trumpet itself and didn’t crave an audience.

The only time I saw my parents profess their feelings for each other was when they had their long overdue church wedding, more than a decade after their civil wedding.  It was a simple affair attended by a handful of relatives and friends. Papa was wearing slacks and a long-sleeved polo, while Mama was clad in a white blazer and skirt that were far too large for her.

She had gotten so frail that she had to be wheeled toward the altar. But when it was time for my parents to exchange vows, Mama grabbed hold of the prie-dieu and slowly, painfully pushed herself up. She was pledging her love for Papa in the presence of their Creator, the only witness that really mattered. She wasn't going to do it sitting down.

Mama passed away less than three months later.

Today, almost two decades since, I no longer remember the words my parents said and whether or not they cried at their wedding. I’m not even sure if Papa touched Mama’s face as they kissed. But I will never forget the way my mother stood up for my father that day.

At a time when people are screaming their I love yous and promising forever in big, bold letters, it’s comforting to know that the power of my parents’ quiet love remains. It reminds me to value the love that’s tucked in the corners, not clamoring to be heard but is nevertheless felt.

Read more: 

Tuesday, March 3, 2015


Wow. Edi wow.
Too bad I can't use Google AdSense. =(



May I present to you my very first Star(s) photo composition. (Apologies for the grainy image caused by high ISO and timidly post processing through an app to emphasize the stars)

For future reference, the ideal setting for my camera should be (assuming you are located at an urban place, where street lights are highly visible):
ISO: 4000*
Shutter speed: 15 seconds (clouds are starting to move at this point, so make sure the sky is clear)
Aperture: highest possible (in my case, its 22)
Manual mode
Time: 2am 

*if the area is not populated by any means of light such as street lights, 100 would be the ideal setting.

Query, query, query

K. bye