Fully satisfied

Well, after falling off the face of the earth for a bit, Amanda (from Canada) is back in play!

After doing the Saturday half shift, which was the final certification and graduation ceremony (where the team gave me an adorable picture set--one of which was me in my Cebu tee shirt, a shirt I was less than thrilled to have memorialized for all time in group photos, but whatevs, that's the way we roll here-- I went home to collapse and sleep.

Then I woke up and got myself together and texted Amanda to see if she wanted to get dinner,
She did. She told me she wanted to meet Fritz and could I bring "my man". Well, crap. I dug around in my phone book and sent a few guys a text saying could they come to dinner last minute, it was my treat. Well, I had Am-boy at "free dinner", so he hopped on board the train to go to dinner and drinks. We ate at Fridays, then off to a place that Fritz (who's Filipino) calls "Doogs"- several tries later I get it: it's this place that's visible from the highway and always gives me a snicker "TUGS" Resto bar. Well, this place is located on top of a department store (?-no idea) and you have to take an elevator to get there. It's really nice, actually- waterfalls, plants, nice quiet, classy place.

Amanda asked "why haven't we come here before?" I laughed "Girl, it's called TUGS. I mean, come on."

A funny moment happened when the three of us (Fritz, me and Amanda) were already in the really small elevator and Mike stepped on last and this little tinny alarm went crazy. We all looked around like "what's that?" and then it occurred to us "oh, shit. It's the overload alarm". I stepped out with Mike, who was philosophical (as he is about everything) "I guess that elevator is made for little tiny Filipinos" he chuckled, heaving his 200+ pounds off the elevator and down the stairs with me.
So we toddled off to Hacienda, where Fritz was Mr. Romance with Amanda and I was the 3rd wheel, but I didn't mind. Mike was wandering around looking dazed and getting drinks, bumping into us every once in awhile but that's cool, I'm used to his hippie style.


Let me just tell you that if you ever find yourself in the Philippines, single, and needing a boyfriend, call my friend Arman, because MY GOD did that guy miss his calling as a matchmaker. Fritz is a college professor who teaches PE- cute as a button and very sweet, obviously crazy about Amanda--he told her she looks like Lindsey Lohan! Well, she's freckled, and she does have a cute little mischievous face, but to be honest, that's mostly where the resemblance ends-- (he did tell me he asked her if she maybe wanted to get in shape before she went home--that's either a very brave or very foolish guy, that one).

When I asked Fritz "where did you two meet" he told me "through Arman", my jaw dropped. Where in the islands Arman digs up these attractive, single, nice guys who are a near perfect match for the lady in question is beyond me. Fritz is both too short and too shy for me, but for me he pulled out an alpha male who's personality is just as strong as mine (if not stronger, he *is* a Scorpio, after all). Anyway, this unlikely Yentl can really bring it. Kudos to him!

School daze

Well, tomorrow is the last day of class for the "English" part of training. I'll be following this wave to product training, and I have to say, I'm pretty attached to them.

Here's the players (no names!)

Mr. Religion: (front and center)

Mr. Religion has a coffee tumbler he's customized with a picture of Jesus that looks *just* like Tom Brady. He's also my best buddy in the group, naturally, since me and religion mix about as well as oil and water, so following the laws of the universe, he gravitates to me and enjoys quizzing me intensely about the US, why I'm not married, and sundry other personal questions.

The Sweetheart: (black jacket, third from right)

Slender, and very good looking in a "perfect child" way, with huge liquid eyes fringed with long, curly, jet black lashes, he told the class a story about his childhood crush and was so emotional his voice was cracking.
The class was super supportive, shouting out "You're shaking, man! You're shaking!" (This is the Filipino way- to loudly point out what people probably would rather keep to themselves. The other day Mr. Religion and I were talking and I was making him laugh and his eyes were watering and people were shouting "Why are you crying?! You're crying!" He punctuated this story with a move we all associate with him now: the chest thump with closed fist right over the heart. Whenever we say his name we do the thump. It's actually affectionate. He's had 7 girlfriends from all over the country.

The Mascot: (very front, blue shirt, short guy)

There's two of these:

Miss Pregg-O (a super sweet shy girl, who's SUPER preggo)

And The Dude: The Dude is a very short (like 4'9") guy who's like a well- loved doggie with a curly tail- he's almost always got a genuine smile on his face. He takes his lumps with his oatmeal. He loves to laugh. He's married and loves his wife and kids. He doesn't miss a trick and probably barbecues a mean steak. He's cool but not as cool as....

The Cool Guy: (far left)

This guy treated us to a light show and dance moves for his "entertainment"- he knows how to pop and lock it and roll his body and look pretty good doing it. He has feathered hair and wears a sideways baseball cap and tight polos to show off his toned triceps and strategically ripped cargos. Hobbies include being a DJ and doing graphic design. Named his kid "Shanute"- "Shaun for "of god" and "te" for "to make it feminine".

The Reality TV star in the making: (striped pink and white shirt, right above Mr. Religion)

This curvy, loud, sexy, and flirty little bit of trouble likes to take candid shots with her camera, flip her hair, and run up behind guys and jump up on their backs for a piggy back ride. Looks a little like Kim Kardashian and a lot like someone who will one day grace a mug shot with mascara tears running down her face.


The Stoner/ Heavy- Duty- Drinker who's hot but a total mess: (back row, guy as tall as me)

This otherwise normal guy admitted to the class "I'm an alcoholic", when asked to tell the class something about himself. (He opened with "I'm gay. Just kidding." woah.....ho-kay! Calling Freud!) When the nonplussed trainer tried to continue the conversation "uh, what do you like to uh, drink?" He answered with unvarnished honesty "Anything that gets me intoxicated." Um...okay. Wow. He's dating....


Miss Clueless: (front, purple jacket, flashing the peace sign)

Sweet and innocent, somehow thinks she can tear the above away from his beloved Red Horse. Not a chance, honey.


Sara Zona: (next to me, mostly hidden)

"Sara Zona" is what I call really, really, really fucking cool girls that have a touch of the 'bian about their person but you can't really pinpoint it. They're really athletic and they often seem to be shimmering the air around them with a kind of almost male appreciation of other women, but they're not *quiiitteee* tipping off your 'dar. Gave an *amazing* acapella performance of "Moulin Rouge" since that's perfect for her register- mezza alto. Named after the original from Our Lady of Mercy High School, where I went to school.

Saran Wrap: (behind the Mascot, wearing Red)

Saran Wrap is the oddly clingy nerdy one that yourbestfriendOMGforever on day one, who you barely know the name of, who's kind of possessive and you *really* don't want to see the dark side of.... so you play along, hoping she like, drops the class or finds a new one soon.

The Doofus: (second from right, with his head tipped at an unnatural angle and his eyes closed since he wasn't sure what we were doing or even where he was at the time)

The Doofus is half cool, half glasses crooked on his head. He's a loveable goofball who's known for being way too casual at every event he's ever attended in his life. During the interview (I interviewed this guy and FAILED him, but he somehow wiggled in) he described his ideal job as "just chillin' ". Okay, guy.

He's actually teased *mercilessly* by Saran Wrap about being "in love" with this other guy in the class, Travis, and he always unintentionally eggs her on by whine-yelling "I don't care if he's absent! I don't care, okay!!" Not sure what's up with him, sexuality-wise, but he seems to sort of protest a little too much and Saran Wrap types have a positive genius for ferreting out the topic MOST likely to make you hate them forever, so he very well could "love" Travis. (who BTW is next to him in the photo.)


Mom: (next to me, with the pulled back pony tail and no-nonsense expression)

Mom actually hangs around Miss Cluesless and The Stoner as an odd kind of third wheel to the point where I at first thought that Mom and The stoner were together. It's probably due to her very strong mom vibe that these two lost souls gravitate towards her. Size "L" bra and kid-hollerin' voice. Nice lady, just wouldn't mess with her, myself.

Copung Copung

Okay, two more stories for one!

Last Monday, I decided to try something "new"- so I went off to a little cafe I had heard about and seen once or twice called Cafe Mesa (cafe table! Har!). I sort of had to drag myself, which is one of the catch 22's of being down- you don't want to do anything, and doing something is exactly what might get you out of the bad mood. Anyway, the place was gorgeous; a little fairy garden hideaway made out of one of the Occupation Era clapboard houses. Food was terrible, as usual, but the drinks and deserts were great. I slowly sipped my Campari and soda and relaxed.

It was quiet, green, and just warm enough, rather than being killingly hot. Just delightful. Then I decided to walk around taking pictures and slowly make my way to Holiday Inn to have another drink at Copa's and then use their car service to go home. Walking around on the SIDEWALK (something else I've really missed, being able to avoid coming within millimeters of being struck by passing cars) taking pictures of the lovely, well kept houses, lawns, and streets free of litter, ratty stray animals, burning trash, and other people's junk, I was so happy.

Then I went to Copa's and I got a text from this guy Tonti, asking me to come to Cofiacd, and that just made my night. Who's this!

So about 2 months ago, an old friend from when I first came here, Arman, set me up with his friend, Tonti, and Arman *swore* this guy was "my type". Since Arman was also the person who picked the one Ives clone in a crowd of thousands, I believed him. And my god, was this guy ever. When I first met him, I was the only girl in a group of 7 guys, and Arman was *determined* to make a match, so he encouraged us to dance (in front of all of club Bossa) to a super slow romantic song. I couldn't (and didn't want to) say no, so we gamely played along, and damn, readers, what a man, what a man, what a mighty good man.

It was the ultimate meet cute, there we were, two strangers, dancing to like, "Butterfly Kisses" or something awful. But, the good news was, we had mad chemistry- it was like I'd known the guy for years. He had that calm, confident manly thing that turns most ladies to jelly- he wasn't an iceberg, he was just Clive Owen in Duplicity, amused and secure, and wearing a Cartier love bracelet. (even single men wear these over here- it's the "thing").

He's a little taller than me, on the slender side of average, but still 'built', and cute as the day is long- deep dimples, Rupert Brooke haircut, deep set eyes, wide smile, just sweet. And warm, not hard to talk to. Anyway, I don't want to jinx it, so I won't go on and on, but he's the TOTAL PACKAGE here, people.

Anyhoo, that's who texted me (we've been in touch this whole time, he's been traveling for his job which is lecturing for the dept of labor). So we had a ball at Cofiacad, just talking with his friends (two of them were there the whole time, one guy popped in for a quick hi) and then we went to Whyhaus, where we talked about books, movies, politics, culture (well, three out of four of us did, while this sweet, shy dude Benedict (that's a common name over here) dozed with his eyes open and drank beer and smiled cutely, lost in a haze).

It was a welcome change from the usual I get over here, which is either the freeze out and a wall of Tagalog, or me having to explain the economic meltdown using easy words (really happened in class the other day).

So we'll see. We're already in month 2 of what I've now found is usually a MONTHS long courtship process, moving at a pretty fast clip for Filipinos (we've gone out TWICE in TWO months, we're practically married here, folks!) so I'll just lay back and see what happens.
Anne's party!!!

So, this was actually not bad. We grabbed pizza and then toddled off to Flying V to talk shit and drink "off site". Since Anne's leaving, she went nutzo and finally told off a bunch of people at work (well, that's sort of par for the course, but she didn't hold back this time) and was "cleaning out her closet"- as an example, here's a story that involves me!

So, about a week ago, I went out with Davie (I didn't realize it would be my last time, SNIFFLE!) and Anne, and we wound up staying out until 10 AM at voodoo, having a grand old time. Well, this Indian guy that I've nicknamed Dreamboat blew in around 9.30 AM and was kiss-kiss with everyone at the bar, so I took my cue (and readers, I was a tad worse for the wear, here) and toddled off. And I can't get any play at Voodoo anyway, so why bother?

So Anne told me that Dreamboat asked "who's your friend?"

And Anne was like "oh, that's Naomi. And she has a HUGE crush on you!!"

Dreamboat "Well, why did she leave, then! God!"

Anne: "I don't know, but she says you're her Dreamboat, hee hee!!."

Dreamboat "Mmmm....tell her I'll rock *her* boat!"

Heh. Awesome. May I present Anne! Motto: Always Be Closing!

So, several of these stories later, we toddled off to Copung Copung (it means "Long ago" in Tagalog) to eat, drink, and finally break it off around 7 am. Dirty stories, people revealing their crushes, gossip, poor Nikki (the only man there) going a bit green around the gills when one super hottie told a "bathroom" story (that was "ladies only" if you follow me), several buckets of beer, me drinking water so as not to say something I would later kick myself for, and lots of fun....

Don't want to say too much, to protect the not so innocent! But it was super fun.

That old familiar tingle...

Okay, loyal fans:

A few stories for the price of one:

First, as we know, I've been seeing (casually) this cute but useless young guy.

I didn't really break it off after Manila but I cooled it WAY down, basically to "super casual" level. The guy's nice, but he's like a jellyfish floating through life, clueless.

As an example, I specifically told him (one of many times) that if he needs help getting around somewhere he needs to ask ANOTHER FILIPINO since they'll be able to help him better, faster, and in his own language. Needless to say he never took this advice, blowing past security guards and bossy Lolas to ask me for help getting a jeepney or finding a toka-toka guy ( a candy and cigarettes guy) or whatever EVERY TIME.

When we went to Manila we took seperate transportation and I told him to take a cab from the bus station to the hotel. I even warned him "If the cab driver doesn't know the place, get out of the cab and get another one. I don't know the place or how to get there. I WON'T BE ABLE TO HELP YOU."

Sure enough, I get a text from him "can you text me the address of the hotel because the driver doesn't know the place."

AUGH!! I tore him up and down when I finally ran into him. "You're a local. You were stationed in Quezon City [in Manila!]. You speak the language. How on EARTH did you get bamboozled into accepting "yes sir!" as the answer? when it was clearly "No sir!", etc. etc."
Anyway, when I met this Nobel Science Prize Winner, he was on a short term job. The job ended before they gave him his last paycheck. Now, even in the US, if this happens, you can show up and make a stink, but you really don't have many options- if the company doesn't want to pay you, they ain't gonna. You can sue them, but it's going to cost you more than the outstanding paycheck, probably, and as someone who took my evil landlord to small claims court and WON and is STILL waiting for the money, I can say it's pretty much an "empty" victory. Court is going to make a crooked boss/ landlord/ former soulmate straighten out.

So, you can probably guess where this is going. He asked me "do you know the owner of MinuteMen"? [guard agency] *side note, the guard agencies here are named AWESOMELY. Among the coolest: "Dexterous"; "Archangels"; "Mustangs"; "Jett".

Uh, no? Why on earth would I? This is where the country- wide- lack of what I would think of as Western logical thinking comes into play. Because I'm white? Because I'm "rich" (entry level peanuts goes a long way over here)? Because I'm educated? I'm not sure what he was thinking. I've only been here 11 months. I know quite a few people, but not the OWNER of Minute men!

I tried to explain this and he dropped it. Then the other day I got a text from him begging me to call this guy (with a number included) saying he still hasn't gotten his pay, would I please help him, etc.

I texted back saying that I didn't speak Tagalog, I don't know labor law, I didn't even know where to start helping him, etc.

So he kept on sending me rebuttals "he speak English, please, honey" etc. So I brought in the big guns in the form of "AM-Boy"/ JPMC-- you alls remember him, right? Well, he's on my account now, his old account closed, and we're still friends) who I asked to help me translate. "Find out what on earth he's thinking!" I begged JPMC. ("Am-boy")

And, gentle reader, do you know what he was thinking? "He'll be scared of you because you're a foreigner. He'll listen to you because you're white." Heh.

I mean, what businessman worth his salt cares what a lowly language trainer for a BPO thinks or wants? I have no power, influence, or sway over this guy, and I don't have anything I can even threaten him with. Why on earth would he do ANYTHING for me? It wouldn't even be in person, so we're not even thinking the "flirt your way out of jail" thing!

Suffice to say that was the death blow to the relationship, which really wasn't meant to be anyways, but I think I learned my lesson. Innocent lovely nice people are sometimes a tad lacking in "street smarts".

So, on another note, I met someone new, in the wake of two "exits" (Davie got abruptly transferred to Cam Sur- SOB! and Anne's leaving for China). I have noticed a tendency in myself to be "friended" before I'm fully aware of what's going on and to find myself "friends" with very odd, needy, and bizarre characters (Steve Mills shout out!) and unable to figure out the sudden drama level in my life and how it relates to my new bestie. So I'll be taking this new friendship slow. However, I'm also very attracted to oddballs, misfits, hoods, weirdos, freakazoids, and other fringe elements, and they are magnetically drawn to me, perhaps sensing that I won't judge them or ask them to follow social mores of any kind.

So this "girlie man" a male who dresses and lives as a woman, who's our newest Team member (not on the account, but on the Coms staff) is an expat who lived in Canda until college. Thin as a whippet, about 5'5", with strong features that look a LOT like Ashlee Simpson, we'll call "her" Nia.

She was wearing black leggings, combination boot sandals, and a long loose tunic in Buffalo Plaid that looked like Diesel or Von Dutch. She was made up within an inch of her life, and had that slightly eerie plastic glow that comes after people who wear tons of makeup get after a long night.

Wild energy radiates off her- a combination of need and nerve, someone who's very self centered yet entertaining. Many men living "alternative" lifestyles radiate this persona- a nervy, controlled free fall of self destructive glamour.

We had a pizza dinner where we met this new girl, and then we broke up to meet up later for Anne's farewell dinner (which stretched into 7 am and was super fun, more about that later), and Nikki noted "That new person seems really attracted to you."

As usual I was oblivious (my siblings do a KILLER impersonation of people "dancing up on me" at the club while I remain blissfully unaware) so I was like "why would that very stylish, very self aware person latch on to me of all people?" I have a casual arty, off beat style, but I'm not very label concious, to say the least (taxidermied fox head stoles are something I consider the *height* of chic, as one example).

However, when we were seated side by side later at the "drinking" portion of the goodbye dinner, I noticed that Nia was wearing Gucci Guilty fragrance (I often succesfully identify the fragrence people are wearing, which is less of a feat than it seems, since most desinger fragrences are "made" with a very particular type in mind and I can almost always match the "J'adore" with it's wearer. And I have a big sniffer, the better to smell you with!) and she told me, in her husky ciggie voice "Oh, you're right, and I love you!"

Thus was born yet another glamourous friendship. It's always a little weird to me when someone who like name dropping (and she does!) and needs to be the center of attention (swingng her hair Axl Rose style at the table *more than once*) latches on to me as the ne plus ultra of friends, but eh, beggars can't be choosers.

Something Blue

Movie reviews:

Something old: (Apocalypse now)

I picked up this movie (which I've been to do since I saw the AWESOME documentary about the making of this movie, called "Heart of Darkness" which features everyone involved in the making of the movie losing their minds, and FFCoppola losing 40 (!!!) pounds. It was shot in the Philippines, (as my mom read to me "With no pesky unions or safety regulations and cheap local labor, many 1970's movies made this the go-to destination for filming") which means I can not only relate to Martin Sheen (described as "generous" by FFC, in his unstinting portrayal of drunken mirror- breaking- breakdown- crying in a Hanoi hotel room that looks a LOT like my apartment, while he was, shall we say, not quite sober in real life) but I can sort of relate to FFC and Colonel Kurtz too.

This movie is every bit the genuis it's made out to be. It's mostly wordless, and you can see a lot of where Sofia Coppola got her influences ( I HEART SFC)- her use of light, her use of music, her use of the eerie, the crowd, isolation, nature, and her lack of "sex" in any traditional sense.

It's one of the few movies I would say is a "must see" just for the experience (although I also put Death in Venice in this category too, and for similar reasons so that's how much my advice is worth).

Favorite scene/ quote: After leaving the "last American post on the river" which has descended into horrific Lord of the Flies Chaos where men act like frightened animals, Martin Sheen has been asking "who's the CO? Who's in charge?" over and over, only to be asked "Ain't you?" by the machine gun happy crazy people left on the last bridge of "civilization".

When he gets back to his ship, badly shaken, the crew asks him "Where's the CO?" and Martin answers with signature disgust and resignation "There is no CO here." It's a moment (and there were many) that resonated with me deeply.

A great, great, great movie. Scary as hell and not for the faint of heart, but great.


Something Borrowed.


I have pretty mixed feelings about this one. Kate Hudson I love, even in such stinkers as "My Best Friend's girl", but this movie really didn't sit right with me. The plot is that the main dude has been in love with the main girl for 6 (!!) years and has never said it and some how got himself engaged to party animal, lovable narcissist Darcy, main girl's bestie from like Kindergarden.

The movie's fun, sparkly, and cute, and Kate Hudson clearly has a ball playing her character, who while selfish, is not really a jerk. The "dilemma" of Rachel (main girl) being in love with Dex and it being mutual and then those two winding up together, happy ever after, kind of bothered me.

I mean, Dex is with Darcy for SIX YEARS and dumps her ass a few days before the wedding for Rachel, after they have an affair. Honestly, I really hate when movies show people that started their relationship as cheating winding up "happy". What happens when Dex's ex girlfriend from grade school turns up on Facebook wanting to "reconnect"? Doesn't she too have a prior commitment to him also?

The main justification for the movie is that Darcy "takes what she wants" and meek, mild little boyfriend stealer Rachel is somehow justified in taking Dex because she's "asking for what she wants, finally." I mean, what should have happened if Rachel was in love with Dex was separate herself from those two for a year or so, found a new man, and then reconnected with those two. Hard? Yes. But if I ever found myself in this unenviable spot (and lord knows I've fallen in love at first sight with more than a few newly introduced BFs of acquaintances), I'd be like "Let's only do girl stuff for a while, your BF just brings out the worst in me." or whatever. Other's people's P is hot, mostly because they "belong" to someone else. I mean, I am no angel, but I've been reformed recently, and I have to say that although the movie was fun and fluffy, the music was great, the costuming enjoyable, and the acting pretty good, I left the movie HATING Rachel and feeling Darcy's pain.


If you're cool with the plotline (ie, what's good for the gander--- and MANY movies have been made about the sweet guy "stealing" Miss Right from "Mr. Jerk" (one I can think of off the top of my head is "Wedding Crashers") is good for the goose), then go for it. But for those of you AHEM mom and probably Kez who believe in love, and fidelity, even when it's hard, you'll be a boiling hot cauldron of salty rage by the time the movie tinkles to a golden glow of "love".

Ring the bell, school's back in.

School's back in:

For the last few days I've been going back to school- IE, the Language and Technical Classes that my agents go through before they "hit the floor". Reason? Quite a few, and by that I mean 66%, of our agents "abandon job" in the first few weeks as it hits them like a ton of bricks just what the job is, and despite the coworkers (who are great) they don't want to work there so much. Or at all.

Anyhoo, I joined the class, was given a group, and here's the notes:

The class immediately picked a "mascot"-- this kid who's called "Travis". ( no relation to his actual name, naturally). There's a few hotshots who use his name the way a hillybilly would use "f---k"-- ie, as a verb, noun, and adjective. For example, when repeating difficult English words, some wiseacres yell out "Trav-isss". This is somehow a compliment. Also, Travis is picked for every "volunteer" activity, etc. Travis appears to have a love hate relationship with his sudden Britteny Spear-ifcation.
Who is this dude? He's a thin, spare, and dramatic looking gay guy- fair skinned, a bit of a ham, handsome in a slightly off way- large teeth in a small face, a lean and hungry look, well fitting clothes, aviator sunglasses, the works.

Other:

When asked to list the differences between Americans and Filipinos in several areas, (Money, Work, Family Life, and Buying Habits) one group gave this tragi-comi presentation:

The guy holding the paper is channeling a fourth grader giving a show and tell, slightly shaky hands, stiff voice, the whole bag:
"The main difference between Filipino and Americans in Family is that Americans put their old ones in a home for the aged. I think this is...I think this is due to busy lifestyle, because they can't care for their mother and father."

This sweet and totally mistaken excuse is very typical Fil: give everyone the benefit of the doubt, no matter how much it hurts.

Removing the dart from my chest, it was now my time to be "interviewed" by my lucky team, who had the "import" and was also the team who had a bossy male of indeterminate sexuality (there is NO TELLING over here with some dudes) who was loudly orchestrating our presentation based on the failings of other presentations, while they were going on. Other teams were good naturedly yelling "Import!!" as my lucky team made their way, shepherded by bossy, BHP club- polo- shirted Brian, to the front.

The room expanded and collapsed with laughter as I explained that here no matter what social class you are, you do the same thing: drink and sing videoke. Plumber? Cori Aquino? No matter who you are!

Red Horse and some ragin' Stevie Nicks!

Not so in the states.

The place we have class is called NTF, it's actually a pleasant little concrete shack in the middle of the jungle, with a cafeteria that closes at 8 pm and no vending machines, seven classrooms chilled to the point that a martini glass would be jealous of, with a resident stray kitten that I love who has a black mask on a white face like the Lone Ranger, and two kubos for smoking.

As I was reading and having my break in the one kubo, just at sunset, the air finally cooling off, I was listening to the sounds of an impromptu rendition of "More than Words" (a song I like but heartily disagree with on principle) with guitar by the all male group in the next kubo over. This is very NTF. NTF is like a smaller, "little island" version of the big campus, and as such is more laid back. Also more isolated, but that's the way I like it for now.

"Hold me close don't.... ever.... let... me... go....and you wouldn't have to say I love you, because I'd already know....".


I could argue with that on many levels, but listening to the sweetly accented voices of 22 year old Asian dudes plinking away on the guitar and cooing along to this, I really had nothing to say.