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To eat, or not to eat blowfish, that is the question -

There’s a Japanese phrase “Itsuyaruno? Imadesyo!” which roughly translates to “When are you going to do it? Now, right!?”

To eat or not to eat blowfish? For those of you who are unacquainted, eating fugu or blowfish can kill you if it’s not properly prepared. Only certified chefs can deal with this fish prepation.

There are plenty more things I’d like to do before I exit out. Plenty of places I still dream of going to. Realistically speaking, I like to see, amongst many, The Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls and New York. I like to go back to Chicago and Texas since I didn’t really have the chance to explore it when I was there years ago. Hopefully by the end of this year I get to go to either Greece or mainland Japan. I hope to one day organize a big charity event. And if we’re talking brainstorms and daydream I’d like to have a dinner with my lifelong celebrity crush, Jessica Alba. I promise myself to get one or two college course done this year.

To eat, or not to eat blowfish? That question’s been “eating me alive” for months. Long I contemplated whether to do it or not. So much more I want to do in my blessed life, and I’m dancing on the razor’s edge for a single dish? It’s like diving into the deepest part of the ocean with only the hands of the supposedly expert stranger as my breathing apparatus. Eating a blowfish is not just a challenge on courage, it really is also an insanity test!

Then again, people do live dangerously. Some do it more adventurously like skydiving, swimming with whale shark or bunjee jumping. Most of us in our daily lives, it starts when we hop on our cars to when we enter a public restroom. Even a ride in the “happiest place on Earth”, Disneyland, is associated with risk that involves trusting others for our safety.

According to my friend Wiki…

Statistics from the Tokyo Bureau of Social Welfare and Public Health indicate 20 to 44 incidents of fugu poisoning per year between 1996 and 2006 in Japan (a single incident may involve multiple diners). Each year, these incidents led to between 34 and 64 victims being hospitalized and zero to six deaths, an average fatality rate of 6.8%.

To eat or not to eat blowfish? That is the question. Not only it is deathly, it also raises moral dilemma for others. Fishing grounds for pufferfish are being depleted. However, there are regulations set in place. Most fugu are now harvested in the spring during spawning season and then culturing the fish on aquafarms.

Despite its danger and the ethical dilemma it imposes, brave and curious millions have bet their bottom dollar eating fugu.To be honest, my confidence in seeing the next daylight after eating blowfish was more and more greatly boosted by those I know who lived to tell the tale. They go out to eat blowfish with zero worry, and come back from a restaurant with bellies full and tastebuds satisfied. And I do live vicariously. I, personally, do feel that the fatality of eating fugu is like chancing to pick one country out of all the countries in the world.

I’m not a vegetarian and will never be one. No, I won’t ever eat shark fins because they really are endangered. I’ve eaten dog as a kid in the Philippines, but won’t ever do it again. Yes, the adventurous in me did try eating blowfish. It was satisfying and fulfilling, and it gave me a new lease on life. It is off my list, and off my mind. I won’t do it again as well. As long as I can stomach it, I want to try more exotic food and preparations. One day, I may eat an animal that I fear like a snake. There’s a ruling, stubborn, fat kid in me who basically eat whenever whatever. Remember when you were so young and you dropped a food on the ground and still ate it. That’s what my mindset is whenever I try more feared or unique dishes.

We really are savage indidviduals. Gluttony is our friend especially when we are down and blue. Sometimes it’s not even the flavor that we savor but the idea of eating. They have sailed seas to find spices and trades, which we continue to do. We will never run out of choices. All types of cuisines and gastronomy readily available for us. We explore food. We will never ran out of taste, of food to try out of our own preferences. Meals that were fit for the king are deduced down to lower level which we now eat as long as it’s accessible. And given the time and opportunity, we might eat whatever is in front of us. That’s whether it’s for survival or for guilty pleasure.


We eat just because. No longer it is just for necessity. It’s a pasttime, a craving, a habit. It’s for entertainment, an indulgence.

I did say upon arrival here in Japan that ‘these are my  moments’. I promised that I’m going to bask in the different experiences in this unique culture. I’ve tasted pig feet here as well as meats of kangaroo, crocodile and camel. I had some culture food and drink like octopus balls, habu sake (snake wine) and mochi (rice balls). I just couldn’t let go of this constant prodding temptation andnagging question of eating blowfish. I’m ready for more risks, opportunities and whatever adventure 2014 brings me.



Care to read?

I probably need some literacy lessons from this published writer, T. B. Markinson. Check out Book Reviews, Author Interviews, Cover Reveal, Guest postings, pointers on self-publishing, and more importantly, her own published books. I go ahead and take you to her two novels.

Southeast Botanical Garden Illumination, or Meaning of Christmas

Southeast Botanical Garden is just a stone-throw away from my work area. I finally got to go there, and I think I found the right timing. I have also been meaning to see some illuminations here in Okinawa, Japan, and it took me the last minute to actually do so. 


It was raining a bit.


It was raining with lights a lot. :D



I never had any Christmas post. I don’t do any holiday post, really. I hate incorporating religion into my topic of discussion. Well, I just had this school paper that basically talked about my meaning of Christmas when I was in grade school that want to share now. Of course this is not the same article but I remember the four meanings that I put. There are four things I think are the true meanings of Christmas. It all comes back to the origin.

1.) Simplicity – Christ was born in the manger. Just a bunch of animals around. The delivery was done on a stack of hay. Nothing was festive. I think we all have to be reminded of that whilst Christmas promotes this joyous occasion, we should be okay with it being simple.


2.) Forgiveness – Jesus was born because He wanted a powerful someone down here in a physical form. And all in all, as a savior for our sins. It got all jumbled up but that was the motive, to absolve us from human errors.


3.) Religious-ness – Christmas is here for that very reason, to celebrate the birth of baby Jesus. He was also here to spread the word. This holiday is a great reminder for people of His presence.



4.) Gift-giving – Yes, it is one of the reasons. During that moment when baby Jesus was born, there were three kings who followed an illuminating star to locate The Savior and they came bearing gifts. This truly is the season for gift-giving, no matter how small or big.


That has been how I interpret Christmas throughout the years.

Another great thing about coming to Southeast Botanical Garden is that I get to practice and exercise taking pictures of lights. It’s so pretty. :D







Last Calls …







Check out poems, inspirational and religious writing, daily thoughts, Daily Prompts and short stories from this skilled writer and poet, Shards of Dubois.


Happy Holidays, everyone!

Cape Hedo: Northernmost End of Okinawa


We took advantage to a rare opportunity for us when we got handed a key to a vehicle. We then left it up to faith to take the wheel. Stopping at wherever the road takes us, the joyride sent us to some of the most exciting and rare finds in Okinawa. Our adventures here. We continued more going up until we decided to go the northernmost point of Okinawa. The signs read Cape Hedo. We confirmed it on the map. And off, we jumped into the unknown.



A forewarning, you might find this transition morbid and grim.

There was this cave where civilians went into hiding during the Battle of Okinawa which was part of World War II. When the war was over, Americans asked the Japanese civilians to come out of the cave to rescue them and they let them know that they will be treated well. Well, the civilians were scared of being killed or sexually violated as they had witnessed the aggressors had done. The little women asked their parents to execute them rather than their fear of being raped. The parents killed their children then they killed themselves. A tally of 83 people died from those harrowing moments. Some still stayed in the cave days after the others because they still didn’t want to come out because of uncertainty, or out of humility.

Today, Japanese will tell you that the bombing of Pearl Harbor is the most humilitating part of history they wish to never happen again.



I don’t mean to correlate the horrid past from the adventure. I just want to address something. Japanese people are the nicest group of people. I experienced and proved that recently when someone chased me up to when I was going down the stairs just to return back the money I overpaid. Coming here on the island, we were warned not to worry about our belongings if we left it inside a taxi. They will go out of their way to bring it back. And they really are just very well-mannered people. These are things I just don’t expect in other countries or areas I’ve ever been to.



Jumping into the unknown is a balancing act. There is a very fine line between risk and its management and the end result and the adventure while achieving it. I, myself, am always double-thinking, always hesitant, or I would always have to know something first before I do it. As I deeply contemplated about it, I don’t see any difference from the people who took their own lives as compared to those who survived. Both of them weighed their choices.

Consider your options. Feed your curiousity as it will creep, and potentially eat you. Know your limit, seek your point of view, and assess where you at. You follow your gut. And you just go with it. That’s what we all just have to do. What follows is uncertainty. 









There’s beauty in uncertainty.



Here’s to a very brave woman who went out her ways to find her grandparent’s past. She went all the way to Italy. Not only that, she only went off a hunch, of faith and trust to people in that foreign country whom she never personally met before. Follow her story here.

Frailty, thy name is woman.

Never underestimate the fragility of a woman. They may be as delicate as a lily but they can also be as thorny as a rose.

You should always take a good scan of your woman. Do not undermind the little details, the change in her appearance, the magic she does, the every fabrics of her clothes, and her mood and emotions.

Thou shall not dismiss her silence. Never EVER prolong it. It will bubble up and eventually ….. pop!



You shall never ever steal a doll from a little girl. She will weep ’til you give it back, else you’ll never see tomorrow’s daylight or later on when you thought your day’s most bright.

It’s always a good measure to pamper a woman with the butterflies she always desire though never asked.

Also, you can always fake to like her gifts. She’d take that over a cringe.


Never assume the sensitivity level of a woman. When provoked, their ever-erratic behavior, that the ever-rational thinking men always are supposing, can turn into a quiet wrath. Boy, they can be ruthless! They can be oh-so vain.

Take heed to a woman’s command or request, however moot it might be. Argue a little, but in the end, breathe and always remember to give way.

Never underestimate a woman’s worth. They’re caring, reciprocating, and loving. Touch her hand, kiss her neck, gaze into her eyes, whisper senseless words in her ears, and never forget her precious heart and gentle soul.

Oh what we, egoistic, chauvanistic men, don’t know what we got ’til it’s gone.


You are finding the true value of a pi when you are calculating the weakness or strength of a woman. You can even ask, and still can never be so sure.

Shall a man really bow to his queen he wants to hold on to dearly?

Frailty, thy name is woman!


Ladies, please don’t slander me.  I do encourage constructive criticism or any feedback.



A mother wept a bucket full of tears when 10-year old Kevin left. She used to always prepare peanut butter and jelly, his favorite, and tuck his lunch box to his bag. After school, she’s the one who greeted and walked with him back home. She read, taught and played with him most of the day.

He’s a delight to her. But Kevin had to go. He’s a son of a military whose duty station in California had come to an abrupt end. She was just their neighbor. Though, she spent time and cared for him more than her own. She said that people think she was exaggerating it. Some kids in his school called her Kevin’s Nanny. She said, “It isn’t exaggeration, it’s love.” She She started balling again.



I have cultivated a good relationship with my landlord. It’s not hard to because he’s a people person. He talks to anybody. He knows Ventura and it’s community. We see each other every time I pay my rent. One dinner, he told me his story. Whenever he does his morning walk and run. He usually passes by a house. Every time, he picks up the daily newspaper left on the lawn, and then he takes it all the way to the front door.
The owner of the house is a woman in her 90′s.



Ben and John live in the same apartment complex. They and their families spent the big holidays together last year. They become great friends for a couple of years now. There’s one incident that led up to this. John got fed up with Ben for his well being when they were forced to work together. John took the bull by his horns and opened a can of whoop ass to him. He berated and derided, laid out all his problems and irritation with him. It was hard for Ben to swallow everything in.

All the time, John remembers that moment and wished his face-to-face confrontation never happened. When they got reunited, Ben thanked John. He claimed that John made him a changed man. They now go to the gym and run together. John, he learned patience, to be calm and compromise through raising his kid who annoys him severely.


Right now, he’s probably preparing the tables and chairs, or maybe fixing the bedroom. He used to live on a field, alone. He sells oranges at a Farmer’s Market, and that’s the only hours he spent talking to most people. He chose happiness and liberation, forgetting, leaving and shutting out every one he knew. One day, as he was only burning wood for light, he burnt his kindling house.

62496_10151453334548578_553132698_nHe then started to reconstruct another house. That next day, people who noticed his solitary life came to help him. More and more followed, and even donations were readily available to his soon to be doorstep. The house, which is much improved than the last, was rebuilt in just 10 days.

He still sells oranges at a Farmer’s Market. He is also a regular volunteer to a Rescue Mission serving homeless people. He does it as a return, a redemption, I supposed. He disagreed. He said he does it for what it is, his past didn’t matter. He said that he learned something the hard way. “No matter how much you sliced it, people need people.”

These are the stories of the people I know. Names are anonymous.

This post is part of my Special Reports.


Care for some more amazing story?

Featured Blog

Well, here’s one success story for you – My Testimony and An Amazing Story. I don’t know how to paint but I enjoy artistic bloggers. I’m not religious but I still enjoy Liz’s company and her blog God Enduring Love. For my 99th Featured Blog, I decided to choose a Religious Blog to get in the mix. She and her husband do mission work. In her blog, she shares her experiences, spreads the good word, tells amazing stories, reblogs great sources and encourage others to strengthen their faith.


See you on my 100th Featured Blog.


The ideal world is painted with rainbow colors. The sun, the moon and the stars are all aligned when everyone conforms to the godliness guidebook. In the actual world, hmmm … not so much. It’s a matter of who dresses themselves beautifully or cover their own colors. If you act against the book of etiquette, the society will think of you differently. A crazy or a criminal, maybe.

You know how I look at the big picture.



I think that everything has its good and bad, as in every little single thing. That no matter how holy and glorified something appears to be or really is, you will always find a flaw to it. That or you just fail to see it or you dismissed to look at it in a different angle or light.


Take for example happiness. I think that happiness is the most selfish thing ever, of all time, and in the whole wide world. Happiness knows how to forget everything else. Pardon to be so bold but no matter how you sugarcoat your disagreement, in all calculation, I think it’s greedy, it’s insensitive, and it’s just so self-centered.


It then boils down to everyone’s perspective. What if someone deprives a kid a candy because he/she thinks its not beneficial but harmful? My example might be so vile, but I hope you get the point. Go ahead and ponder.

You know how I look at the big picture.


Everything in moderation. That answers a lot of things. But, balance is something that we all struggle on. We all have a choice, and that we all listen to our inner self. We tip-toe, we juggle, we find what really is worth. We sacrifice one thing for another.

Now, who are we to judge?


Lay down something in front of me and I will look what’s underneath it. I believe that there is a flip-side to everything. And that it’s a matter of the individual’s way of thinking. You can influence, advise, or inspire but a person will follow what is rooted inside that person. Behavior, upbringing, belief, preference, personality, prerogative, etc. People are people. We are who we are. We are judges, and are bound to be judged. Balance is the key. If you go over or under, well then … you’re screwed :D .

It’s up to you to UNDERSTAND another person whether he/she is “crazy”, a “criminal”, or “normal” just like everyone else.


Here’s to a blog that will blow your mind…


If you want to decipher more on the way we, humans, operate, here is Shakti Ghosal to analyze things with you. Shakti doesn’t just look at things in one side. ESGEE musings makes it interesting. It is a blog loaded with intellects, opinions and engaging discussions. A thought-provoking blog, it encourages you to think, to look beyond what seems, all leading to better understanding. My favoriteS – What If…….. and Success….. Vision or Delusion?


All images are taken from Half Moon Bay, and have nothing to do with the point of view.

Once in a Blue Moon

Another special post.

Here goes…

You know what…. I need to pause… An image first.

Breathes In, Breathes Out….

Once in a blue moon, in front of a green light there stuck not one but two cars
broken down in both lanes, holding up a traffic.
Once in a blue moon, because the show must go on, a comedy turns into something so tragic.
Once in a blue moon, Sleeping Beauty gets to wear a pair of silver shoes that doesn’t fit her.
And that little Tumbilina gets to hang out with the seven dwarfs without being offended.
Once in a blue moon, you wave a wand for your problems to just *poof* disappear.
Once in a blue moon, miracle happens in whichever way you want it ended.
And that reality becomes something more dishonest, less truthful than magic.

Inhale, Exhale….


Once in a blue moon, a sitar player attracts more audience than a guitar player.
Once in a blue moon, a father swallows his pride to win the utmost respect of his daughter.
Once in a while, a mother forgets to be a wife, saves face just to protect her.
Once in a blue moon, a cop eats a donut or two without hesitation, guilt or regard to that prejudice.
Once in a while, an unrequited love gets a little more than just an accidental notice.



Once in a blue moon, a failed chance is enough to call it a success.
And that every now and then, an underdog gets to win first place.
Once in a blue moon, an ambitious man lets go of the wheel while driving to win his race.
And that every now and then, he lets things be out of the rarest, some odd reason
or under the most uncommon circumstances.
Once in a blue moon, Mother Nature cries.
And when she does, she pours her darnest.
And that every now and then, someone actually hears the whispers in the forest.
Once in a blue moon, a blind man gets to be the eye witness.


Once in a blue moon, someone who forgives and forgets suddenly remembers
and secretly gets his revenge.
Out of the blue, it’s the cat that kills curiosity, turning it into knowledge.
Once in a blue moon, the mere reason why he loves her is because of her sadness.
Out of the blue, a courteous kid blurts out that he doesn’t like his birthday present.
Once in a blue moon, I pray for His guidances.



Here comes…

What do you do in these rare moments that quickly passes?
Once in a blue moon, I say, free yourself from all your attachments.
You might get what you wish for… once in a blue moon.
No matter how absurd, immeasurable, or perhaps, even your evil urges.
Every now and then, you get faced with a moral dilemma, get tested for your judgment.
Maybe, for a logic unknown, waiting and allowing things operate itself might be the answer… once in a blue moon.
Once in a while, you can actually hear a needle drop.
Then and there, you should open each and every of your senses.
Though, remember that these special occasions that only happen once in a blue moon,
Simply cherish it. You shouldn’t force, overdo or abuse it.
For these rare occurances can be addictive, worst, when done repeatedly, becomes a bad habit.


Photos are from the ever-picturesque Pacific Coast Highway.

So many blogs lined up for poetry or writing that I need to feature… Drum roll please….

Featured Blog

This next blogger is, well, Simply Charming. She’s got great personality, friendly and approachable. And that there’s just so much Sunshine to her posts. She is a highly impressive writer, venturing out different approaches and style of writing a piece. For poetry, her masterpiece, for me, is her romantic submission to the Weekly Writing Challenge: I Wish I Were. My most favorite blogpost, however, is this honest and personal piece about her father. A lively and lovely personality, an eloquent writer, a stand-out blogger, viewing her blog is well, Simply Charming.

Potrero John Trail in Ojai

Sometimes I take a break from driving long distance. I just don’t always have the patience to sit in a car admiring the long lines of marching cars in major cities. Sometimes, I just don’t have the same neutral concern to hustle and bustle with the crowd, or to that one guy getting robbed. Of course, I’m just joshing. I simply do not always get the urge of traveling volitionally. And when I do take a break from the “work part” of traveling, I lounge around. I do not mean that in its literal sense.

One weekend, I tried to stay at home, and boy! how it depressed me. That’s when I know that I am a travel addict, or perhaps, if you fancy being technical with terminologies, a hodomaniac. I just can’t stand not to do anything. I just have to, have to go somewhere.

Also, another thing came to mind, ding ding ding! – Photography is NOT a passion of mine. My love to travel is the primary desire, and that I only want, and *ehem* need, to take pictures of the things I see when I go out. I barely take pictures of random little things like real photographers do. They can make a gum attached underneath a toilet creatively and artistically captured. They take the time to play piano on their camera settings and perform some surgeries to their pictures. Pardon the pun, I admire and envy photographers for their diligence, creativity and expertise. They snap shots from just about anywhere. I don’t. That’s the big difference. I take travel pictures.

You see, I get all sorts of epiphany when I indulge boredom when I stay at home during weekends.

Enough of digressing (I can’t promise). I lounge by enjoying the quietude of a nearby beach, catching a local event or going to a local restaurant. I love driving, even if I’m a terrible one. Near or far, it just clears my mind.

However, my newfangled favorite made-up form of taking a travel break is hiking. You can trip from a rock or fall into a ditch when hiking. It’s enjoyable, exciting, and challenging. At least you do not have to gracefully gain composure immediately like you do when around a crowd. You can see rocks, mountains, alive or dead trees, flowers, stones, maybe ponds, rivers, waterfalls, all kinds and natures of nature. When you turn around or go further, you can see rocks, mountains, dead trees, flowers, stones, maybe ponds, rivers, waterfalls, etc. Great stuff! right? Not until you get lost because everything looks the same.


Funny, huh? I wasn’t kidding, I did get lost in the wilderness. The even worst part is that I didn’t get to the payoff of the hike. It was supposed to be a waterfall. As I kept walking and walking, I was making a constant decision whether to quit or not. At the end, it hurt to disappoint. I was as disappointed as a soldier without a gun. I have to go back before it gets dark. I was worried. I couldn’t find my way back. Big Foot might pop up. At that time, I didn’t know how to spell H-E-L-F. And, my underwear is not enough for a blanket. All these things ran into my heads trying to trace my way back.

This is the water I see. It’s cute, with sad puppy eyes and a smile from ear to ear, it’s so lovely to look at. The picture even came out good enough … good enough for Facebook upload.

Oh forget being naive! I can’t sugarcoat it nor you can’t riddle this to me, it was a disappointment not finding the waterfall. It’s the goal I set for that hike. Obviously, I did find my way back the next morning. Calm down, erase that, it was that same day. Now here’s to balance out the dissatisfaction. Heading back, I saw all these boulders and boulders of these incredibly huge, spectacular, magnificent looking rock formations. Misery loves company, I’m not going to show you pictures. You can settle for these small ones.

Fortunately, not even a week AFTER my excursion, Jack Elliott, an outstanding source for hiking needs came out with a post about Sespe Creek/Potrero John Creek that entails directions on how to get to the waterfall. Thank you, Jack Elliott. Now I can bask myself with cakes, candles, confetti and something else kid party-related that starts with a letter “c”. I was being sarcastic, I don’t have any pictures of big, magnificent looking rocks. And seriously, do look around and check out Jack Elliott’s page, and pay attention to his tips and tricks and something else related that starts with a “t”.

Last Call…


Wondering where all the sarcasms coming from?


Latimer broke her laptop, and Ridley made a crack about it. Together they make fun, artful, lively and highly entertaining blog posts. On their posts, they do talk back and forth. We know how explosive that can be. However, these two best friends have both intelligent, eloquent and creative minds. They are writers, and at the same time, they make their own artwork. Do check the posts about the processes of their masterpieces. With M. Latimer and Ridley, you won’t get bored. I assure you, it’s a real blog page-turner.


Related: Highway 33, MRE And Hiking Previews

The Jelly Experience [Exhibit III]

I have weighed and attempted all of my options. I dove the lowest of lows. I reached the highest height. I drove the path-less-traveled. I have chased all the pavements leading nowhere. I read the manual. I watched the DIY videos. I took baby steps. I leapfrogged it. I walked around the coffee table to breathe, stop and think. I have gone in and outside the box. I mix and match, switch and swoosh around, latter, rinse, repeat. I followed the instructional reference guide once, twice, thrice… my saliva on page 15.

I have been dreaming about it. I’ve exerted all of my effort on it. I’ve given all my sweat, blood, tears and urine. My focus was fixated on it. There was no other priorities. Schedules needed not updated. I’ve forgetten about anything else. I’m dwelling on it. It became my obsession. It’s my drug, my unreachable star, my unscrewable screw. My whole world’s around it.

I’ve consulted an expert. I followed my instinct. I’ve tossed a coin. I’ve prayed, chanted, and I bargained. It’s prodding me, mocking me, crawling in my sleep. It’s echoing. Should I have not started it? Should I skip, gundeck or just let it be? Should I have not been goal-oriented, or stubborn? Should I start anew? What if’s, should’ve, would’ve, could’ve, it’s all killing me inside.

For a little bit, I played with it. I joked, mimicked it and then laughed at it. I’ve danced my way around it. I ended up trying to reason with it. I’ve done my not-enough best. I’ve sung til my heart’s content. I’ve heard the fat lady sang. I’ve traveled, and traveled far. I’ve seen the darkness at the end of the lighted tunnel. I’ve injured myself and everything around me. I’ve beaten myself to death. I broke my own rules. I disobeyed the book of etiquettes. I’ve exhausted it all. Yet,

I failed. After everything and anything, I raised the white flag. Head down on the ground at a corner of a room. Unsuccessful. Defeated. Disappointed. This puzzle I just cannot piece together.

Have I made really made my peace with it?

No matter how much I’ve tried and tried, there are just some things I can’t do. There are just some things that won’t ever change. Unfortunately, there’s just no way to make bones for a jellyfish.




My most favorite blogger writer of all, Arindam. Being Arindam is a blog full of insightful, thought-provoking, attention-grabbing, creative and often-bold and stimulating articles. My most favorite is this tender, inspiring, exciting read written in a bit peculiar way, “I too had a small Love Story“. And if you do click the link, make sure to meet his niece, Googlie.


My So-Called Adventure (Edith as Guest Writer)

For once, I let someone else do the talking. Please do read entirely. She wrote this enjoyable entry for us bloggers, even if she’s not one.


Why am I writing a blog? My boyfriend told (more like forced) me to do so. I haven’t written anything since …umm, I can’t remember! Okay here it goes,

GOOD MORNING BOHOL!!!!☺ It’ll be a busy day for us! We will be heading to:

  •  Bee Farm
  •  Sandugo Monument (a.k.a El Pacto de Sangre  or Blood Compact)
  •  Lunch at Loboc River, while watching Loboc Choir
  •  Butterfly Garden
  •  Albuquerque Zoo 
  •  Tarsier Conservation Area in Loboc
  •  Man-Made Forest in Loboc
  •   lastly, a long trip to Chocolate Hills before heading back to Panglao

That’s the itinerary. But since I’m with my boyfriend, oh well, he suggested that we should try zipline. After having eaten a lot in a floating restaurant cruising over Loboc River then to do an EXTREME Adventure, I think you know what I’m feeling that time! We passed by the Albuquerque but our tour guide was very helpful saying we can visit the zoo before heading back to the resort. Now, did I hear it correctly?! Adventure Park wasn’t part of the itinerary.

 Then the car stopped, “We’re here, Loboc Ecotourism Adventure Park” our tour guide said. There’s no turning back! Am I really going to try this? Before I even answered that question, my boyfriend bought two tickets of combo package which includes zipline and cable car. He seemed to be enjoying my anxiety because he kept looking at me with a big grin on his face. He told me it will be fun, and I believe him.

We had a long walk from the ticket booth towards the zipline launching area. I needed some quiet time. If there are two things I’m not very fond of, that’ll be heights and birds, most especially rooster.
“Cable One Ready!” the crew said. I did not say I’m ready, I haven’t finished my prayers!!!! Waaaahhhhhh! I’M SCREAMING ON TOP OF MY LUNGS!!!

His smile towards my discomfort says it all.

He kept on taking pictures, he’s really enjoying this! I was a bit behind him. I shut my eyes and was just feeling the breeze. I opened my eyes …

…and it was one of the most beautiful views I’ve seen.

After a few minutes, we arrived on the other side. I was beginning to enjoy it! Oh well, I’ll just have to wait for our turn. We waited for about half an hour for the cable car. I thought it’ll be romantic since we will be 120 meters high with the famous Loboc River beneath us. Awww. Then…Am I hearing things? No wait! Is that a rooster hiding behind the bushes? OMG!!!!! This really is an adventure. I began sweating, then palpitations. I immediately went down to the launching area because I need to run away from the roosters even though the crew haven’t called us yet. I think I saw 4-5 roosters in the area. The crew started to prepare the ride, finally.

I was a bit worried hearing a squeaky sound. Just my luck! My boyfriend is having a good time. He kept on looking back, left and right, then back again. I begged him to stay still and stop telling me to look down at the river. I know it’s pretty but it’s hard to concentrate when I can hear the squeaky sound and it’s a very shaky ride because he can’t stay still! I told him, I’ll look for it on the web so stop moving! And that besides to the fact that I already saw it when we did the zipline!

Forced smile, I’m really crying out “Stop taking pictures!!!!”

We started to enjoy the ride. And yes, he’s a sweet and caring boyfriend. The only person who can tolerate my imperfections and loves me for who I am.

I love this shot.

It was an awesome experience! I conquered my fear of heights because I trusted the man I love. I can never thank him enough for being all I have ever needed.  I did enjoy our adventure, and I’ll do it a hundred times as long as he’s holding my hand.

sitting comfy before the ride




Check out ziplining and other adventures through Digital Ballpen. Follow his career goal in the medical field, and his newfangled passion for cooking.



I made a commentary on my 100th post on how awful I am in story-telling. Give it up to my girlfriend. She really did write a very entertaining narration.


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