we found an oni!
I just love labradors. 
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Here’s looking at you kid
February 1, 2011 by Jody Alarva
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Disappointed at Banapple
January 14, 2011 by Jody Alarva
**UPDATE**
I got this response to the email I sent:
hi ms Jody, just to let you know that we’ve issued a verbal warning to mylene and she has been reassigned to another department. upon investigation with our duty manager it was clear that her skills were not up to banapple’s standards. again we apologize for what happened and we hope that you will still give us a chance to serve you in the future.
Kudos to them actually giving a damn about their customer service, their cakes are too good to just cross off the list.
Now I can enjoy a banoffee again!
Today I met my friend K, and wanting Banoffee pie for the longest time, I asked if we could meet at Banapple, my favorite place to get it. Heading to the place at 1:30 in the afternoon, I was pretty confident we would get nice seats and better service than what we would at rush time, but we were sadly disappointed.
I’m attaching the letter I wrote to the email address on their website here:
To Whom It May Concern,
I would like to express my disappointment at the service we experienced at your Katipunan branch (the newer one with two floors) today at 1:30 to 3 pm.
First, we were told to order when there were still six people near the counter, saying that they were still picking out their items.
When we got to the counter ready to order, those who were picking their takeout were still served first, leaving us waiting while they do, while we had our orders ready (we were dining in).
I had personally ordered your iced tea and when it was served, had a dead ant floating in it, which I had fortunately seen before taking a sip.
I called a server to replace the iced tea, and she went over the counter to supposedly do that, but as she gave it back, the same ant was floating around the iced tea.
I called another server to have it replaced (again) and was handed back the same glass, without the ice, but had the ant still in it.
I called the same server (I unfortunately did not have the time to take down her name, but she had pale skin, a white shirt and a sullen expression) to direct her attention and told her that the ant was still there, and was handed back the same iced tea, now sans the ant and ice.
I called her back to ask for ice as I was already exasperated and hungry, to sit down and just drink the iced tea.We noticed that same server sullenly regarding as every time she passed by, but ignored my friend’s attempts at asking for water, only turning to her when she was expressly called “Miss”, at the time several minutes had passed by.
After giving my friend water, she very hurriedly asked to clean up our plates, and picked them up instantly.
After which she still stared sullenly, which we thought was weird since it was already 3 pm, and slow in terms of foot traffic.
As we were planning to order cakes after a few minutes, we decided to just leave as we felt unwelcome to stay.We were very disappointed as we’ve gone to banapple many times over the years, and have never been treated so badly.
We considered your restaurant a favorite and have recommended them to many friends, but would not continue to do so if this is the service awaiting them there.Hoping for your speedy response
Category Jodythinks | Tags: , banapple, banapple katipunan, banapple kitchen, banapple service, katipunan | 1 Comment
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Take me back to the paradise city
January 11, 2011 by Jody Alarva
pretty colors
Where the grass is green and the girls are pretty, oh won’t you please take me home!
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The Christmas List
December 23, 2010 by Jody Alarva
I am a lister. I list all things down, coz I tend to forget. I like seeing them in print, and if you’ve ever seen my tattered green notebook, you’ll know that I have dozens of lists about anything I might think of. A Christmas list, I have three. But here I just figured, I’d ask the Big Guy up there for a couple of things:
1. For the pater to quit smoking. It’s more than a pack a day methinks.
2. For glorious earphones for the pc. Sorry Est, I really, really don’t like the Kpop.
3. For another store room for all the stuff people keep stashing in my room. It’s insane I want to burn them, really
4. For more free nook books. i want it all!
5. For more instax film. (OR THE OHGOD POLAROID 300 in red)
6. To go back to my college weight. I really need God on this one
7. For an endless supply of chapstick. I needs ittt.
8. For people on the street to stop chucking firecrackers when people pass by. Not. Cool.
9. For endless toffee nut, all year round.
10. For the ability to teleport. Traffic, you waste half my life.
And a bunch of other material things. Mostly, to keep this happy.
And thanks Big Dude, you rocked this year.Category Jodythinks | Tags: | No Comments
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As long as it matters
December 2, 2010 by Jody Alarva
as long as you're here with me now
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She works hard for the money
November 12, 2010 by Jody Alarva
work in progress
photo source: http://blogs.targetx.com/pbu/Sam/2009/03/
I’ve spent the last week looking at stuff. Yes, stuff. I have been at the mall for two days straight, and not buying a thing (Except food and a replacement mouse, my third in 3 weeks). It’s been nagging at me, how much fun shopping can be. It is. The girl in me longs for shopping trips, walking around the mall like I used to for hours, calling it exercise, but actually checking out The Gap and Topshop for things to buy the next payday that comes along. It was fun. I was alone, but I felt freer being by myself. I could check out stuff as long as I want, go to the stores I wanted to, without apologizing for the time I was taking since it was all mine. (And the sizes I ask for, kept a secret between me and the salesperson, the tag could always be snipped off later hee)
But I digress. I’ve seen people (not the people I was with, coz they deserved that trip) throw away money on stuff they forget, not use, or break after a couple hours. And I think, the person I was with summed it up perfectly (and my mom says the same thing) in a sentence “Work, and you’ll find out the value of money.” It’s true. I’ve never realized how hard it really was to make money until I worked. Years of blowing my allowance on useless things that I admittedly didn’t really like, have turned into carefully looking at stuff, weighing if I really wanted it or not. Not that I’m short on money (on the contrary, I’m much more comfortable now, doing something I really like), but I know now, how hard it really is to make it. I work for a living, and I’m really lucky to be doing something that I really like, but not everyone has that luxury.
Some people are even luckier, and get everything they want, without even lifting a finger. During sleepless nights of work, and dreading waking up to a bunch of emails about tasks, I get a twinge of envy, yes, I’m only human. But if my parents ever taught me anything, it’s the value of making it on your own. Even when we were kids, we couldn’t point at stuff in the mall and just get it. We had to save our allowance for it. My parents provided all we needed, and sometimes gave us gifts all of a sudden, here and there, but the common rule was, if you wanted it, save for it. Very practical, these people. We never hurt for things, if anything, it taught us to really work for what we wanted.
As a kid, it was easy. We were doted on by relatives from the US and my grandma in the province, sending money almost every month “to buy whatever” or “to go out and celebrate” every little thing, every little achievement. It was a cool deal. Even if i was the worst at saving, I still got to buy what I wanted, thanks to those relatives.
I finished college and the privilege of being sent money by relatives I grew out of (well, some relatives still send a bit, to those who do thank youuu), deemed too old and should make money on my own. It was freeing, not having to ask for money from my parents, and actually helping out a little at home (key word is little, I’m not rolling in dough ye know).
It was also a little bit frustrating, being disciplined about money. I felt like an adult. (In any civilized society I do realize I’m considered one) But going through, I’m a bit better about it. I can actually buy the things I want, and still have a little bit left over to treat the family on food and go on dates.
I work. I bought all of the things I have, with the money I sweated for, bled for. Go on trips paid with the money I saved up. The proudest of which is spent on the people I love, making them happy with meals, or buy gifts that are just perfect, or take them to where they want to go.
I guess I’m glad, of my middle class life. I have enough to be a little carefree. I don’t have too much to just throw it away, to realize how good I have it. And I have to thank my parents, and God for providing me with the sense, the ability to make it.
I work hard for the money. And it makes me better for it.
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Planner Time
October 28, 2010 by Jody Alarva
A friend who works at Starbucks just posted that Red Cup season is about to begin (If I’m not mistaken, November 2 is Toffee Nut day 1!), and as I’ve been pondering the past few times I’ve been to bookstores, it’s whether I’m gonna go through collecting stickers this year, for the ubiquitous planner that almost everyone considers a “must-have” every holiday season. I’ve had one for every year since 2006, the first two years were from copious amounts of caffeine and five pounds added to my frame, the next, from friends and connections. Those planners chronicled every little thing that went on in my life. Everyday filled with bits and pieces of my day, those I considered, well, important enough to want to remember when I unearthed them the next year or so.
This year’s planner, has well, been neglected. Truly and utterly more than half blank, and it’s almost October. It started when I first got it, I wanted the cherry version and got the one with coffee beans, though equally pretty, I was holding out for the cherry one, for I love cherries. (Even coffee cherries) Next was the bulk. This was the bulkiest planner I’ve ever had, and even if I do carry huge bags and backpacks, the hard binding, large size, and weight of the thing was too much to carry everywhere. It simply didn’t fit. And the pen, unlike the others’ was unreliable and easy to lose.
And maybe, this year was a whirlwind. I can’t even believe my ears when I hear Christmas carols on the radio. It still feels like last year, when I was making promises to get back to Baler for October surf season. Or was fresh off the Cebu trip wanting lechon by the bucket. Or planning to send Christmas cards to everyone I knew (and for the third year, did NOT do). It’s still a little hazy, the year that has been and is still going on, that I’ve wanted someone to document it for me, or hit myself over the head since I didn’t do it myself. A lot of milestones. A lot of new things. Crazy good and crazy awful things have happened. And this is the year I didn’t jot it all down.
I guess I’m thankful in a way. That a lot of nights, I’ve been too tired to do anything but wash up, brush and fall down the bed. Promising to fill in the previous day’s activities later that day, then forgetting coz I went to do something else. Repeating the cycle for a week. then a month, and now, a flurry of blank pages stare at me when I try to look back on my year on specific dates on my coffee bean covered planner.
This year, I lived my life. I know how lucky I am to be doing that. And when I do want to remember, I figure, those days that are important enough, i’ll never forget.
So will I get a planner for 2011? Maybe. Just for the Toffee Nuts.
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Have a card
October 9, 2010 by Jody Alarva
Yup, those are my lips on the card.
I have only had 1 person comment on my lips, my friend Anna did, when I was a model for her makeup class more than a year ago. I don’t really notice them until i bite them and they bleed, or they feel dry and i swipe them with chapstick.
See, I don’t know much about this girl stuff. I’m hardly one. I had my mom do my makeup for years until Anna came along. My idea of having my hair done is getting a hair spa so it smells really really good. I paint my nails then scrub to remove the excess.
I think you get my point.
So I never really thought about that kind of thing until she told me that she really liked the shape of them, that they were easy to put lipstick on, asking why I don’t wear red lipstick more often. I replied that I invariably eat my lipstick.
What can I say, it was an honor to pose for this card. For one, Anna is the only makeup artist I would trust to do my makeup. (She really is talented! She did my makeup for the Christmas party last year and I felt like a rockstar.) And two, I don’t really pose for anything. I had one shoot for my friend, and the pictures felt stiff and I don’t know angles and shiz like that.
10 minutes and a conference room later, (plus a little help from Ronan to put a card in between the lips and change the background and teeth hues) voila, a business card is born.
So guess what, Anna Angeles clients, that’s little old me on that card. And, you really should get her, she rocks the house.
And thank you, Ms. Anna Lorraine, for one of my favorite photos.
this is a real business card, if you’re interested in getting Ms. Angeles’s services, call the number on the card. And if you want pictures of her work, go to www.facesbyannaangeles.com
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CHEESECAKE!
October 6, 2010 by Jody Alarva
OMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOM
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My Lola, and maybe me.
September 23, 2010 by Jody Alarva
My grandmother passed away 40 days ago. While I was having the time of my life with my friends in Palawan. We got a call from my mom to tell us that she had passed away after living a full life. She was 87.
I didn’t cry. I think I was the only one in the family that didn’t. I didn’t cry because for me, I had lost my grandma years ago. What was left was literally a shell of this person that I knew for my whole life. A person, that in the last years of her life, wasn’t even recognizable to me.
See, my lola was and will always be known as a businesswoman. It was what she did best. She attracted money, and she knew how to make it grow. She, after being a teacher, opened a simple business and supported not only her family, but all others who asked her for help. Coz that was what she knew how to do. She did not raise her kids, someone else did, but she made sure that they were fed every day and had the education they deserved. When people asked her for help, when they could not pay for their kid’s schooling, she lent them money. She lavished gifts on everyone she took a liking to. She showed her love the only way she knew how, through material things.
I am not judging her ability as a parent, her two kids grew up well. After losing her husband in his 40s, she was a single parent. These two kids sprung from a single parent household finished school, raised kids, knew how to be firm disciplinarians yet show their affection in unique ways, that you had to know them to appreciate how they did it. They, my father and my late uncle, were not the most affectionate, not the most verbal sorts, but they, as they had grew up on, asked for the best of us and made sure we never went hungry and never to want for more. Prudent, practical men, they were the products of a strong willed woman, this woman that was never the cloying type, but never left you by the wayside either.
She went through a lot. Like I said, she lost her husband to a stroke when they were still young. My uncle, even younger. Died at 42, the only person left in her house, she took it as a huge blow. And i can never imagine the pain of burying your own child, I hope I never do. After that loss, it was only my dad and us left as her immediate family, and we did what we could to be there as often as we could. Strong, smart and independent, she refused to live with us in our house and stayed in hers in the province. She liked it there, she could go to church everyday, take care of her business. It was the place she knew and loved, and we understood and went there weekends to show our support, basically just showing her she still had people for her.
I don’t know if it was the right decision, leaving her to be. She went to our house for New year’s eve every year, but she didn’t like it, was always asking to go home as soon as January 1 rolled in. After years of calling every other day, she called less and less, finding comfort and affection in the hands of her househelp, who had been with her since i was a kid. Making a few decisions that didn’t go over well with my parents, there was a time she stopped calling at all.
She put her trust in the wrong person. I guess she was so starved for affection and attention she didn’t know, or didn’t even care at some point that she was being robbed blind. All her savings, everything, was wiped out, bankbooks cleared, debts incurred in her name, jewelry and other valuables, stolen.
That’s when we lost Lola. The thievery was only discovered as she had to have an operation for a broken hip. When checking for money to pay for it, it was only then that it all came to light, everything was gone. The help, disappeared with the boyfriend my lola let stay in her house because he could give her what we couldn’t, attention she badly wanted. Affection she craved and lost when she started pushing people away.
After the operation she had to stay in our house, we couldn’t find anyone to stay with her. And the woman who stayed with us, I didn’t know. Spouting hallucinations and ghosts and insane ramblings of a woman broken were what stayed with us that year. We could tell she was unhappy. Temper always up, always an argument here and there. She missed her home and even if it was empty, she longed for it. After a year, when her helper agreed, she went back to the house she longed for.
Even if it was somehow worse, bouts of dementia, losing all the weight because she couldn’t eat anything with salt, she looked happy. Between the hallucinations and the gibberish, there was a smile and a laugh. Everything she said, even if it was unintelligible, was punctuated with a laugh, and a silly grin that growing up, I barely even saw.
The last time I saw her was June. It was one of the times we went home to the province. As I went into her room to say goodbye, she laughed, in her made up grin and said something intelligible. I brushed it off and didn’t think anything of it.
August 16, 2010 she passed away. After years of Alzheimer’s and dementia, I was told she was lucid for a week. She had a chance to say goodbye to the few people who still visited her. She called out all our names that day. But in essence, she died alone. No family beside her, no friend to hold her hand. She died as my uncle died. Of negligent care and of loneliness.
At the funeral, as I saw my cousins, my family, some of her friends sob, I shed a couple tears. Not because I lost her. I knew the person in the casket, and the person who lived in that house, wasn’t her. It was a shell of her. I cried because of my father, who did not deserve all the loss he has suffered through in his life. And even if she was just a shell of her former self, my father had lost the last binding family he had in that house. I cried for the loss of my family, I cried for the days to come when everything had to be resolved, as there always is after a death.
She lived a full life. She had kids, got grandkids, had a bevy of friends, indulged herself, lavished her gifts on other people. She lived. And she lived the life she wanted to live because she had the means to, means she took care of on her own.
They say of everyone, I’m like her the most. The features, even the demeanor, the coldness. I am the most standoffish kid in the family. I like material things. I do not take the time to be there for everyone. I pick favorites. I have a temper. I am selfish.
I am like my lola, and I hope I learn from her mistakes, her accomplishments. Her face I am carrying and her legacy, mine to take care of. And I hope, that when I die, i do not die alone. And I know now how not to.
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