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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QBQX04fip7ImA9WhRXGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115</id><updated>2011-12-26T20:15:50.336-08:00</updated><category term="durian" /><category term="cooking" /><category term="Anthony Bourdain" /><category term="Wendy Burch" /><category term="teamwork" /><category term="guitar hero" /><category term="balut" /><category term="nurse" /><category term="hannah Montana" /><category term="Andrew Zimmern" /><category term="snuggie" /><category term="accent" /><category term="Oprah" /><category term="Michigan" /><category term="Tivo" /><category term="tapsilog" /><category term="Fire" /><category term="interracial" /><category term="Giada De Laurentiis" /><category term="Thanksgiving" /><category term="France" /><category term="marriage" /><category term="Rosetta stone" /><category term="harana" /><category term="Magic Mic" /><category term="Real Housewives" /><category term="Wolverines" /><category term="Denny's" /><category term="Coffee" /><category term="travel" /><category term="KTLA" /><category term="laundry" /><category term="niyog" /><category term="walis tingting" /><category term="white house" /><category term="American Girl Place" /><category term="around the world" /><category term="chores" /><category term="Amazing Race" /><category term="culture shock" /><category term="dating" /><category term="Filipino women" /><category term="boxing" /><category term="cruise" /><category term="call center" /><category term="the filipino channel" /><category term="Temecula" /><category term="bayanihan" /><category term="filipino" /><category term="Tagalog" /><category term="mafia" /><category term="Go Blue" /><category term="arnel pineda" /><category term="Italy" /><category term="walis tambo" /><category term="filipino food" /><category term="ghetto" /><category term="booze" /><category term="caregiver" /><category term="idioms" /><category term="yahoo personals" /><category term="longsilog" /><category term="love letters" /><category term="los angeles" /><category term="steve nash" /><category term="white family" /><category term="sugardaddy" /><category term="Jollibee" /><category term="Bizarre Food" /><category term="bunot" /><category term="street food" /><category term="tabo" /><category term="twitter" /><category term="first blog" /><category term="courtship" /><category term="tweets" /><category term="coming to america" /><category term="JDate" /><category term="freeways" /><category term="bayong" /><category term="Corky" /><category term="Manny Pacquiao" /><category term="super size" /><category term="trailer parks" /><category term="social media" /><category term="seafood city" /><category term="Gift Card" /><category term="american dream" /><category term="Football" /><category term="Barcelona" /><category term="XBOX" /><category term="kababayan" /><title>Mrs. Ober Da Bakod</title><subtitle type="html">I'm Filipino. I'm married to a White Guy. I'm fucked.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/" /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/MrsOberDaBakod" /><feedburner:info uri="mrsoberdabakod" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QBQX0-fip7ImA9WhRXGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-2198556112246061963</id><published>2011-12-26T17:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T20:15:50.356-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-26T20:15:50.356-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="filipino food" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="seafood city" /><title>White Guys and Their Filipino Store Adventures</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SP-5L9K5KLc/TKKfxx4fFlI/AAAAAAAAJ4Q/x48EGVSL1pU/s1600/seafoodCity_bnr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 325px; height: 84px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SP-5L9K5KLc/TKKfxx4fFlI/AAAAAAAAJ4Q/x48EGVSL1pU/s1600/seafoodCity_bnr.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;If you're just tuning in, I'm married to a white Midwestern guy. You see I grew up in the Philippines and just like any Filipino who moved to another country I miss my Filipino food (more than my family..but shhh! Don't tell them that.) Fortunately, I live in LA where there are a lot of Filipino stores. The nearest one, located in Koreatown is a 15 minute drive from my apartment. &lt;a href="http://seafoodcity.com/index.html"&gt;Seafood City&lt;/a&gt; is probably one of the most popular Filipino stores in the US. They have stores all over LA, San Diego, NorCal and Las Vegas. Yes. Whether you like it or not we are everywhere (don't worry we only bite when provoked!). Now going back to the whole point of this blog. Once a month my husband and I drive to Seafood City to get my Filipino food fix. I call it the Tour De Freak only because I think I kinda freak him out with the stuff I expose him to. I bring him along because I want him to experience my culture (plus he's my chauffeur). My husband is such a good sport. He eagerly walks around the store with me. Most of the time he is the only white dude in the store and everyone  gives him that look -- like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;WTH-is-this-white-guy-doing-here&lt;/span&gt; look.  The first few times I brought him along he would have this confused/shocked/amused look on his face and would ask me a lot of questions --  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What is this? How do you eat this? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Is this food or decoration? What is this called? How do you pronounce that? Why is the fish staring back at me? You actually eat those? WTH are fish balls? Why does shrimp paste smell like old fish?. &lt;/span&gt;That was before. Now he's more acclimated and comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was one of those Tour de Freak days. My husband waited in the car while I went shopping. In the seafood section I saw a white guy with his Filipino wife. While the woman was shopping the guy stood in one corner with their cart. He had the same confused/shocked/amused look on his face. It seems to me that he wasn't enjoying this adventure at all. I can't blame him. If you're not Filipino, there is some weird stuff in that store that will give you nightmares. For example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chicken feet - Especially with the nails on, they are freaky.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://imgusr.tradekey.com/p-2361527-20081215203018/chicken-paw-chicken-feet-chicken-wings-whole-chicken.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 196px; height: 196px;" src="http://imgusr.tradekey.com/p-2361527-20081215203018/chicken-paw-chicken-feet-chicken-wings-whole-chicken.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pig Blood - When cooked it actually looks like chocolate but doesn't taste like chocolate.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Liver, heart, kidneys, intestines, tripe - In other words ORGANS that you don't see in your local grocery store.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Duck eggs (Balut) - Hello? They made it to Fear Factor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fish head - They stare back at you but they smile at you.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;A newbie might find Filipino food to be a little overwhelming, but it's time to take a break from Olive Garden, Applebees and Panera Bread Company.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-2198556112246061963?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Maybe not celebrity but I MADE THE &lt;a href="http://www.ktla.com/"&gt;NEWS&lt;/a&gt;! Not the 30-min-car-chase kind of NEWS but I was mentioned in today's morning TV newscast. Yesterday, after coming home early from work I noticed that one of our trash cans in my apartment building was open. And if you know me, that shit annoys me. So as I was closing the bin I noticed a bunch (like a hundred) of cards inside. They were all addressed and labeled without stamps. I saw one of the envelopes opened so I looked inside and realized they were holiday cards. I thought that it was weird that the cards were in the trash unless of course they decided to cancel CHRISTMAS. I took one of the opened cards to show my husband when he got home because the card was pretty entertaining. I thought the woman was familiar but I couldn't figure out where I saw her or how I know her. I didn't think about consulting Google until my husband came home. He googled her and yes of course the woman is &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/goodnewswendy"&gt;Wendy Burch&lt;/a&gt; the reporter from KTLA 5. But that's not how I know her. See I'm a huge fan of the reality show &lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/the-real-housewives-of-beverly-hills"&gt;The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills&lt;/a&gt;. I follow every single one of the women on the show on Twitter. &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/AdrienneMaloof"&gt;Adrienne Maloof&lt;/a&gt; is one of them and she is a very good friend of Wendy. I've seen Wendy on one episode of RHOBH and I've also seen her name pop up every now and then on Adrienne's twitter.  So now that I put two and two together, I reached out to Wendy on twitter and told her I found a bunch of her cards. She immediately responded and said they were stolen from her car. Seriously? Why would people do that? I asked if she wanted them back because if she did I was going to dig out the trash and retrieve all the cards. I don't normally dig through trash but it's Christmas and I'm a good person (yeah right!) so sure WHY NOT? After exchanging a couple messages and phone numbers on Twitter she said she would come in the morning to pick up her cards and that she would talk about me in her show (video below or &lt;a href="http://youtu.be/sabMf-UVWbE"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;). WHOA?! Are you serious? I mean I didn't wanna sound all excited but I made sure I recorded her show and I was awake at 6am to watch it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband and I met Wendy this morning and we found out we live right next to each other. She's a really nice person and I am just happy that she got all her holiday cards back. She now calls me her CARD ANGEL. Angel? Me? Ok. Sure. I'll take it. So what's next for me? After this I'll probably star in my own reality TV show. 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If you're just tuning in my awesome life, let me relive that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Your smoke alarm is going off!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;April 8. Thursday. I came home early from work. I went to the store. I  prepared dinner. I was making &lt;a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/giada-de-laurentiis/pasta-alla-formiana-recipe/index.html"&gt;Giada's  Pasta alla Formiana&lt;/a&gt;. It said cook for an hour at 450 degrees (which  I did). But since I was so obsessed with losing weight and having the  body of a European supermodel I decided to take a walk around the  neighborhood and grab a cupcake from &lt;a href="http://www.crumbs.com/"&gt;Crumbs&lt;/a&gt;.  Twenty minutes into my workout, with cupcakes in hand I got a text from my upstairs neighbor --  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Smoke alarm in your apartment is going off!"&lt;/span&gt; Holy Mother of God! Are  you kidding me? I ran back to my apartment like &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Usain_Bolt"&gt;Usain Bolt&lt;/a&gt; (maybe  faster). At the same time I could hear the fire trucks b&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/S8VN8zToUBI/AAAAAAAAANw/ciB3if1FHN8/s1600/giada_de_laurentiis_049.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 178px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/S8VN8zToUBI/AAAAAAAAANw/ciB3if1FHN8/s320/giada_de_laurentiis_049.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459855830216626194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ehind me. I was 5  blocks away. I almost wanted to yell, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I know where you're going! I  need a ride back to my apartment!" &lt;/span&gt;while  flagging the firetrucks down.  As soon  as I reached my block I saw three fire trucks and an ambulance. I  seriously thought my building was on fire and my tenants/neighbors were  burned to death. Inside my apartment I saw close to 15 firefighters and a cloud of smoke. It felt like heaven minus St. Peter and the smell of burned food.  When I walked in my kitchen one of the firefighters said, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"The good  news is, dinner is served. In the sink!"&lt;/span&gt;. He was mocking me of course.  But he is cute so I let it pass. I am just so thankful no one got hurt and there were no damages! After the firefighters did their thing, I apologized to my  neighbors. I went on with my life.  I tweeted about the incident. I updated my Facebook status and then called my husband. I know. I know. I should've called my &lt;a href="http://mroberdabakod.blogspot.com"&gt;husband&lt;/a&gt; first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/S8VOwh8XghI/AAAAAAAAAN4/hr1UggrvM7c/s1600/goodbadugly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 143px; height: 187px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/S8VOwh8XghI/AAAAAAAAAN4/hr1UggrvM7c/s320/goodbadugly.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459856718908850706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Good, the Bad and the Ugly: Things I've learned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Our smoke alarm works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Oregano smells good even when burned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) I can run really fast. I should train for next year's LA Marathon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) I will never lose weight because I consider "walking to a cupcake  store" a workout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Crumb's cupcakes are still good even if they look like they were  stepped on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Giada got me in trouble. Just kidding. I don't know how I'd do it,  but I plan to tell her my story. Anyone know where I can reach her agent? Oh wait. She's on  &lt;a href="http://www.twitter.com/GDeLaurentiis"&gt;Twitter&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Beverly Hills Firefighters are HOTTTTTT! If I wasn't too traumatized  I would've started another fire just to see them again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) I am now popular in my neighborhood. Everybody talks/gossips about  me. I may just have won the title "Village Idiot".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) I got the best workout of my life that day. &lt;a href="http://www.jillianmichaels.com/"&gt;Jillian Michaels&lt;/a&gt; would be  proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Soup &amp;amp; flat bread are a good substitute dinner for pasta.  Especially burned pasta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vladimir_Lenin"&gt;Vladimir Lenin&lt;/a&gt; said, "&lt;span class="body"&gt;Any cook should be able to run the country.&lt;/span&gt; " Except the cook who sets the oven at 450deg and leaves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-3503963510027306532?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CRfQIUTXrv0ZfzZLmSLDbUqPQAk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CRfQIUTXrv0ZfzZLmSLDbUqPQAk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/9dTBS_TtshY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/3503963510027306532/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2010/04/for-love-of-giada.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/3503963510027306532?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/3503963510027306532?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/9dTBS_TtshY/for-love-of-giada.html" title="For The Love of Giada..." /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/S8VNAeO_BII/AAAAAAAAANo/ti8MAK2FCgw/s72-c/Flame+Picture.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2010/04/for-love-of-giada.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEGRHk8eyp7ImA9WxBTFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-5408032113697424753</id><published>2009-12-05T23:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T22:40:25.773-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-10T22:40:25.773-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Temecula" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Thanksgiving" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gift Card" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Coffee" /><title>Missed Me?</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SxtX91-dwnI/AAAAAAAAANI/fp0FwcTZyuc/s1600-h/snow-winter-sucks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SxtX91-dwnI/AAAAAAAAANI/fp0FwcTZyuc/s320/snow-winter-sucks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412016097188495986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Apologies for ignoring the blog world. Between work and the social life (that I do not have), I am also busy keeping myself warm. It's getting colder in LA and when the temperature drops to 50 degrees, I totally FREEZE and shut down. So to my in-laws, apologies in advance. I will never move to Michigan. If we do move, it's because we both lost our jobs, we're homeless and we need a place to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what's going on with me? Nothing really. Just keeping up with the &lt;a href="http://www.eonline.com/on/shows/kardashians/index.jsp"&gt;Kardashians&lt;/a&gt;, the White House &lt;a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/blogs/2009/11/27/crimesider/entry5799723.shtml"&gt;crashers&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.usmagazine.com/celebritynews/news/hear-tiger-panic-to-mistress-my-wife-may-be-calling-you-2009212"&gt;Tiger Woods&lt;/a&gt; and the lives of the Jewish people I work for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SxtaW_fli0I/AAAAAAAAANQ/q1lbTgp8qew/s1600-h/thanksgiving+2009+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 277px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SxtaW_fli0I/AAAAAAAAANQ/q1lbTgp8qew/s320/thanksgiving+2009+016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412018728263322434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend TJ invited us to his new home for Thanksgiving. It's a Filipino Thanksgiving so aside from the traditional turkey, we had ribs, roast beef, pasta and spanakopita. Yeah, Filipinos kinda like to mix it up a little. Celebrating Thanksgiving is as alien to us in the Philippines as below-freezing temperatures. The best thing about Filipinos is being able to adapt easily. We can live anywhere in the world and still function. I actually have more relatives in the US compared to the hubby coz that is how I roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Temecula Wineries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Thanksgiving dinner, the hubby and I went to Temecula to visit the &lt;a href="http://www.temeculawines.org/"&gt;wineries&lt;/a&gt;. Although I like to WHINE a lot, I'm not a wine person. I drink wine that has fruit in it -- Sangria. However, I like visiting wineries and do wine tastings just to remind myself why I do not like wine. I am weird like that and I feel sorry for my husband that he has to deal with my weirdness. I highly suggest visiting Temecula if you like wine. It's not Napa or Sonoma but it's a good alternative. Stay away from Cougar Winery, the winery that suggests you drink the wine but ignore the smell of it. Really? I'm no wine expert but don't you smell the wine and then drink it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SxtbxWPdjHI/AAAAAAAAANY/bAODFENS9EA/s1600-h/coffee1-300x283.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 262px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SxtbxWPdjHI/AAAAAAAAANY/bAODFENS9EA/s320/coffee1-300x283.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412020280557931634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Caffeine Slave No More&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First let me say that I've only had coffee four times since deciding to quit 6 weeks ago. Only because there are new coffee shops (&lt;a href="http://aromacoffeeandtea.com/"&gt;Aroma Cafe&lt;/a&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;a href="http://www.intelligentsiacoffee.com/"&gt;Intelligentsia&lt;/a&gt;) that the we recently discovered and they are just so hard to resist. &lt;span style="color: rgb(17, 17, 17);"&gt;If you wanna know if &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(17, 17, 17);" lang="EN-GB"&gt;quitting has affected my energy, mood and effectiveness, I'd say NO. However, there are times when I just want to hang myself especially at work where everyone drinks coffee everyday! There was one time my co-worker spilled her coffee and I just wanted to lick the coffee off her chest &amp;amp; lap. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It was that bad! &lt;/span&gt;So please join me in congratulating myself with this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(17, 17, 17);"&gt;new achievement :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Christmas Shopping&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SxtcjXAhzZI/AAAAAAAAANg/T_023hoK3ZI/s1600-h/gift_card.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 220px; height: 183px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SxtcjXAhzZI/AAAAAAAAANg/T_023hoK3ZI/s320/gift_card.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412021139757190546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realized there are 20 more days before Christmas. I haven't done any holiday shopping. I have no plans to. I'm going the easy route -- Gift cards! So to my relatives (who are not on my shit list), I hope you enjoy your gift cards and I hope you buy me awesome gifts with those gift cards...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-5408032113697424753?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/k0sfVg4ayvm9wc5O-_OT0GLYPEM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/k0sfVg4ayvm9wc5O-_OT0GLYPEM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/XUJN9imbkic" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/5408032113697424753/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/12/missed-me.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/5408032113697424753?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/5408032113697424753?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/XUJN9imbkic/missed-me.html" title="Missed Me?" /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SxtX91-dwnI/AAAAAAAAANI/fp0FwcTZyuc/s72-c/snow-winter-sucks.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/12/missed-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUcNRHs6cSp7ImA9WxNbEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-2462025116040309511</id><published>2009-11-12T22:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T23:24:55.519-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-12T23:24:55.519-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Manny Pacquiao" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="boxing" /><title>When I'm happy I clap with my feet.</title><content type="html">A tribute to the Filipino Boxing Champ. In a never before seen video of myself cheering for &lt;a href="http://pacman.craveonline.com/"&gt;Manny Pacquiao&lt;/a&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-14ac39ef5ae0e76d" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday, he &lt;a href="http://www.hbo.com/boxing/"&gt;fights&lt;/a&gt; Puerto Rican boxer &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miguel_Cotto"&gt;Miguel Cotto&lt;/a&gt;. I, and millions of Filipinos around the world will be cheering for him. Hopefully this time, the hubby won't secretly video tape me or else he'd be getting an upper cut or right hook from me. Haha! Joke! I can't punch so I will probably just Taser him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go Manny! Make Mama proud!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-2462025116040309511?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/U9eWmNvvVSYuauLUxb-K7Brco-I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/U9eWmNvvVSYuauLUxb-K7Brco-I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/eYfiqgGwEfo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/2462025116040309511/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/11/when-im-happy-i-clap-with-my-feet.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/2462025116040309511?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/2462025116040309511?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/eYfiqgGwEfo/when-im-happy-i-clap-with-my-feet.html" title="When I'm happy I clap with my feet." /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/11/when-im-happy-i-clap-with-my-feet.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkACR305fyp7ImA9WxNUEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-6704074158421741670</id><published>2009-10-31T13:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T14:32:46.327-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-31T14:32:46.327-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="American Girl Place" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="white family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hannah Montana" /><title>Raising Kids the White Way</title><content type="html">The &lt;a href="http://mroberdabakod.blogspot.com/"&gt;hubby&lt;/a&gt; and I have talked about having kids, what they will look like and the challenges of having mutt kids. He's so American and I'm a &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=fob"&gt;fobbie&lt;/a&gt; Filipino. We're NO &lt;a href="http://tlc.discovery.com/tv/jon-and-kate/jon-and-kate.html"&gt;Jon &amp;amp; Kate&lt;/a&gt; and definitely not planning to have the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;PLUS 8&lt;/span&gt; but the two of us raising kids in America will be very interesting especially for me. How do I raise half white kids in America without becoming the stereotypical "white" family raising kids?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are my observations...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Names&lt;/span&gt; - I don't like white, cheesy, trendy names. I actually have a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Names I Will Not Give My Future Kids"&lt;/span&gt; list. This list includes Hunter, Dakota, Riley, Casey, Cooper, Madison, Cassidy etc. Let's not even include stupid celebrity baby names on here. Those belong to another list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Baby Accessories&lt;/span&gt; - I am the perfect example of a person who was once a baby and nev&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.muamat.com/adpics/4a95aaceadd75e93bd66b9b72.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 197px; height: 197px;" src="http://www.muamat.com/adpics/4a95aaceadd75e93bd66b9b72.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;er had to be in a stroller, car seat or high chair. I also wasn't born in a hospital. I was born in my father's ancestral home with the help of a midwife and didn't have the luxury of a crib. I think that my parents put me in a shoe box or a picnic basket after they laid me down to sleep. Is it really necessary to splurge on baby accessories? I guess what I'm trying to say is, I grew up normal with my limbs intact without all these complex baby stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Time Out&lt;/span&gt; - I am slightly embarrassed to admit that I only learned about "Time Out" when I was watching an episode of Super Nanny. It's a punishment for kids who are misbehaving. I've never experienced this. When my sisters &amp;amp; I misbehaved we get a good swat in the ass with whatever my parents can get their hands on. They believe in corporal punishment. I do too. However, I'd like to be able to spank my kids without them calling 911 and Social Services showing up in my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Play Date&lt;/span&gt; - OK. Someone please explain this to me. Why is this necessary? Does it really help improve your kids social skills? I don't remember my parents setting up a time for kids to show up in our house to play. I'm pretty sociable. If you still don't know, I have &lt;a href="http://www.twitter.com/eugem"&gt;Twitter&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/"&gt;Facebook&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.multiply.com/"&gt;Multiply&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.friendster.com/"&gt;Friendster&lt;/a&gt; and this blog. I think play date is just another excuse so parents can party &amp;amp; get drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.shoplet.com/office/limages/PAP56701_1_1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 143px; height: 143px;" src="http://www.shoplet.com/office/limages/PAP56701_1_1.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kids Spa&lt;/span&gt; - The most annoying part in the world of beauty and spa is when you are getting your nails done and you are seated next to a 7 year old kid who is getting a massage, manicure &amp;amp; pedicure. NO. The pink nail polish with white flowers on your big toe is not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;CUTE&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;NOT CUTE AT ALL.&lt;/span&gt; Oh hai. Kids grow up so fast! I once painted my toe nails and my mother scolded me because she said I was too young for that crap. I used Liquid Paper! Not even a real nail polish! My mother was a hardcore disciplinarian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;American Girl Place&lt;/span&gt; - I am probably being judgmental by saying that the kids who come to &lt;a href="http://www.americangirl.com/index.php"&gt;this place&lt;/a&gt; are rich, spoiled, brats who will probably grow up like Paris Hilton. This is a place where young girls have tea parties with other young girls and their dolls. Did you hear they also have  an American Doll Salon? Really? Salon for dolls? That is creepy! I read somewhere that they recently just came out with a &lt;a href="http://www.nypost.com/p/news/national/homeless_doll_costs_hairstyling_4Ic0hC7Lacpfo8HQbczsQM"&gt;Homeless Doll&lt;/a&gt;. The price? $95! Ohhh such IRONY! I probably just pissed off a bunch of American Girl doll owners. You can kill me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Suyf-gcT-xI/AAAAAAAAAMg/rSJEi_QJu78/s1600-h/hannah_montana_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Suyf-gcT-xI/AAAAAAAAAMg/rSJEi_QJu78/s200/hannah_montana_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398865949519772434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hannah Montana&lt;/span&gt; - I am just glad that by the time I decide to have kids, &lt;a href="http://tv.disney.go.com/disneychannel/hannahmontana/"&gt;Hannah Montana &lt;/a&gt;will be old. Too old that my kids won't find her entertaining. Too old that re-runs of her show will be shown on &lt;a href="http://www.history.com/"&gt;The History Channel&lt;/a&gt;. Plus, isn't Hannah Montana also Miley Cyrus? How do you explain that to the kids? It's so confusing! Also, how do you explain to your kids that you can be a star and make millions by being lame &amp;amp; untalented?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Kids (young boys) with Long Hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I think a lot of p&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuyfgfuhogI/AAAAAAAAAMY/An3bSb2qKMU/s1600-h/Celine+Dion+17.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 175px; height: 146px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuyfgfuhogI/AAAAAAAAAMY/An3bSb2qKMU/s320/Celine+Dion+17.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398865433931653634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;arents are trying to raise the future Kurt Cobain or Eddie Vedder. Look, if you can bring the dolls to a salon why can't you bring your young son to get a haircut? Do us all a favor and don't put us in an awkward situation where we think your &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"daughter"&lt;/span&gt; is adorable and your kid responds &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I'm not a girl!"&lt;/span&gt;. Case in point, Celine Dion with girly son Rene Charles. How many of you want to bet her son will soon be getting a training bra?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure when the time comes and we decide to have kids, we will be ready. And since we're gonna have half filipino/half american babies, allow me to borrow the lyrics of &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbwH7-AIvfA&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;Hannah Montana's song&lt;/a&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"You get the best of both worlds. Mix it all together and you know that it's the best of both worlds. The best of both worlds."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-6704074158421741670?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/J3jM5VbF9cRlPck1eso48PiknB0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/J3jM5VbF9cRlPck1eso48PiknB0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/5YXoWio6XxU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/6704074158421741670/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/raising-kids-white-way.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/6704074158421741670?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/6704074158421741670?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/5YXoWio6XxU/raising-kids-white-way.html" title="Raising Kids the White Way" /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Suyf-gcT-xI/AAAAAAAAAMg/rSJEi_QJu78/s72-c/hannah_montana_2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/raising-kids-white-way.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08DQH4_eyp7ImA9WxNVFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-1680386852926530457</id><published>2009-10-26T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T22:04:31.043-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-26T22:04:31.043-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="JDate" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="interracial" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Corky" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Filipino women" /><title>Today, I play Matchmaker...</title><content type="html">The other day I was chatting with my grade school friend and she casually mentioned if I could set her up with one of my single American friends. This made me think. HARD. Really hard. Why the eff not? I mean if the Jews have &lt;a href="http://www.jdate.com/"&gt;JDate&lt;/a&gt; and pet lovers have all &lt;a href="http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/23185"&gt;these&lt;/a&gt; ridiculous dating websites then why can't I play matchmaker between Filipinos &amp;amp; Americans?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dating history and my very "successful" relationship with my &lt;a href="http://mroberdabakod.blogspot.com/"&gt;American hubby&lt;/a&gt; makes me a credible matchmaker, right? I also have a handful white, latino, black, persian guy friends who are wishing to end up with their own Pacific Island princess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuZ72fvK72I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/kqLP3KOSjRA/s1600-h/DSC05203+-+Copy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuZ72fvK72I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/kqLP3KOSjRA/s320/DSC05203+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397137379612618594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fil-Am Dating 101&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;American men (and other nationalities), here are things you need to know about Filipino women...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;1.) Filipino women are  beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stand out. Our features are unique. We do not look like our Asian neighbors. We are neither white nor yellow. We are brown which makes white people very jealous. Now, I'm not saying our Asian neighbors are ugly. In fact, I should credit them for their contribution to our culture and exotic breed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;2.) Filipino women are generous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We like to help our family back home in any way we can. &lt;a href="http://www.westernunion.ph/info/homePage.asp?country=PH&amp;amp;origination=global&amp;amp;language=tl"&gt;Western Union&lt;/a&gt; is still in business because of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;3.) Filipino women are opinionated&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your opinion counts but our opinions count more. DUH. We've had 2 female presidents. Nuff said!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt; 4.) Filipino women are caring and supporting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are married to a Filipino woman you don't need to worry about a retirement home or a caregiver coz she or her relatives will take care of you. However, you also don't want to take advantage of her because she will not hesitate to break your balls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt; 5.) Filipino women are respectable, understanding and patient&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were raised to speak politely and never engage in arguments or quarrels. We should act refined and lady like and never bring shame to the family. I don't know what happened to me. I guess, I am the exception to the rule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Filipino women, here are things you need to know about American men...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt; 1.) American men like sports.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can't beat 'em join 'em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt; 2.) American men like to drink.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can't beat 'em join 'em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt; 3.) American men like extreme activites (bungee jumping, sky diving, skiing, etc)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can't beat 'em join 'em&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt; 4.) American men like to eat boring, white people food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between LA and New York there's nothing but Applebee's and Olive Garden. If you can't eat 'em join 'em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt; 5.) American men like porn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can't beat 'em join 'em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See? Men, in general and American men specifically are simple, like&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rt5sQBjEj1c&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt; Corky from Life Goes On.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-1680386852926530457?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ey8cVkB4O7AQRLQsUsRv2hLQ-Vw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ey8cVkB4O7AQRLQsUsRv2hLQ-Vw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/ejPR2e7C20o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/1680386852926530457/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/today-i-play-matchmaker.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/1680386852926530457?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/1680386852926530457?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/ejPR2e7C20o/today-i-play-matchmaker.html" title="Today, I play Matchmaker..." /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuZ72fvK72I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/kqLP3KOSjRA/s72-c/DSC05203+-+Copy.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/today-i-play-matchmaker.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYBSHo_eyp7ImA9WxNVFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-1218274518298979035</id><published>2009-10-24T21:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T11:59:19.443-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-25T11:59:19.443-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="France" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Barcelona" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Italy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="travel" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="around the world" /><title>Hmmm...wonder where I'll go next...</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuSPw2YDxxI/AAAAAAAAALw/14UN3znKUb8/s1600-h/passport.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 128px; height: 149px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuSPw2YDxxI/AAAAAAAAALw/14UN3znKUb8/s320/passport.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396596322889615122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love traveling. Whether it's for business or pleasure, just the thought of going to a new place excites me. I like meeting new people, eating local delicacies, seeing cities that are built differently and landscapes I've never seen before. My love for travel started when I was a &lt;a href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/coming-to-america-not-movie.html"&gt;kid&lt;/a&gt;. Then my last two jobs in the Philippines required me to hop in planes, stay in kick ass hotels and BS clients. A special shout out to&lt;a href="http://www.wistron.com/"&gt; Acer Philippines (now Wistron)&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.watsonwyatt.com/"&gt;Watson Wyatt&lt;/a&gt; for the free travels &amp;amp; the opportunity. You rock!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a list of places I've been and some highlights of the trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Taiwan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.chopstickz.com/chopsticks/chopsticks.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 217px; height: 205px;" src="http://www.chopstickz.com/chopsticks/chopsticks.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highlights:&lt;/span&gt; First in everything. First travel abroad. First plane ride. First time to use chopsticks. First time to eat octopus. First time to order Coke in Chinese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;Hong Kong (the first time)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPWofoJTAI/AAAAAAAAAKA/FiKdgS80Aoo/s1600-h/hk10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 176px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPWofoJTAI/AAAAAAAAAKA/FiKdgS80Aoo/s320/hk10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396392769692978178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highlights:&lt;/span&gt; I got in a fight with a lady who sells thongs. Apparently, if you're not buying then you can't touch the item. This photo was taken a few minutes before we had our yelling match.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hongkong (after the first time)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fairwaypromotions.co.za/uploadimages/Asia-Miles-Logo1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 145px;" src="http://www.fairwaypromotions.co.za/uploadimages/Asia-Miles-Logo1.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highlights:&lt;/span&gt; The second, third, fourth &amp;amp; fifth time I was able to earn enough miles to travel to Hongkong for free. Still waiting for the perfect time to use it. Who wants to go with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Singapore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPXmpTm4DI/AAAAAAAAAKI/QuRhjSKT0bY/s1600-h/sg8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPXmpTm4DI/AAAAAAAAAKI/QuRhjSKT0bY/s320/sg8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396393837443080242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highlights:&lt;/span&gt; I conquered my greatest fear. Snakes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;London&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPYrO1UIFI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/6gTl1CRkgWs/s1600-h/london-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 190px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPYrO1UIFI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/6gTl1CRkgWs/s320/london-3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396395015747674194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highlights:&lt;/span&gt; Big Ben is not a guy. London Bridge is in Arizona. The bridge in London is called Tower Bridge. Both bridges are  NOT falling down.&lt;br /&gt;First time I flew First Class. Thank you Cathay Pacific!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barcelona&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPcKrxI0hI/AAAAAAAAAKg/cfD2EvCB_Yc/s1600-h/barcelona+075.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPcKrxI0hI/AAAAAAAAAKg/cfD2EvCB_Yc/s320/barcelona+075.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396398854625612306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highlights:&lt;/span&gt; I love, love Barcelona -- food, architecture, culture and people. Yes people! Someone flashed me and grabbed my ass. Also, naked beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Malta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPdL0xh9dI/AAAAAAAAAKo/28twBlMSRhA/s1600-h/malta+155.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPdL0xh9dI/AAAAAAAAAKo/28twBlMSRhA/s320/malta+155.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396399973734675922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highlights: &lt;/span&gt;We paid 40euros to tour the city on a carriage. It was rough but it was worth it. The city is beautiful and there are ruins that are older than the pyramids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pisa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPdz-w0GkI/AAAAAAAAAKw/ObINmGBuGVw/s1600-h/florence+%26+pisa+261.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPdz-w0GkI/AAAAAAAAAKw/ObINmGBuGVw/s320/florence+%26+pisa+261.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396400663610792514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highlights:&lt;/span&gt; 121 &lt;a href="http://www.kodakgallery.com/gallery/creativeapps/slideShow/Main.jsp?albumId=667685076406&amp;amp;ownerId=82959816106"&gt;photos&lt;/a&gt; at the Leaning Tower of Pisa from our cruise earlier this year. I only posted 73. Yes I am a camera, picture, leaning tower whore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Florence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPe638MzuI/AAAAAAAAAK4/hNnTApt8Abo/s1600-h/florence+%26+pisa+191.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPe638MzuI/AAAAAAAAAK4/hNnTApt8Abo/s320/florence+%26+pisa+191.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396401881550212834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highlights:&lt;/span&gt; Climb 463 steps up (no elevator) and you get a spectacular view of &lt;a href="http://www.kodakgallery.com/gallery/creativeapps/slideShow/Main.jsp?albumId=622483466406&amp;amp;ownerId=82959816106"&gt;Florence&lt;/a&gt; and the Tuscan hills. So worth it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPgW8Z7pzI/AAAAAAAAALA/Kj2yvmSGG1s/s1600-h/rome+202.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPgW8Z7pzI/AAAAAAAAALA/Kj2yvmSGG1s/s320/rome+202.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396403463296624434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highlights:&lt;/span&gt; I saw a gladiator. The Colosseum is pretty darn cool! There are fountains everywhere! Beware of pick pockets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vatican&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPg_d--_VI/AAAAAAAAALI/h5fSPCon1uY/s1600-h/rome+136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPg_d--_VI/AAAAAAAAALI/h5fSPCon1uY/s320/rome+136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396404159505169746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highlights:&lt;/span&gt; Now I know where the Pope lives. St. Peter's Basilica is HUGEEE. It can hold 60,000 people inside. Beware of pick pockets too. Those assholes don't care whether you're in a church or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pompeii&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPhuIW1h2I/AAAAAAAAALQ/dx0J5vQV1Jg/s1600-h/sorrento+and+pompei+149.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPhuIW1h2I/AAAAAAAAALQ/dx0J5vQV1Jg/s320/sorrento+and+pompei+149.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396404961153484642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highlights:&lt;/span&gt; I'm totally diggin' this. No pun intended. This partially buried Roman town is BIG. Get a map coz we got lost finding the exit.&lt;br /&gt;If you're into digging, take a shovel and join the digging club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sorrento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPiQZ5sjLI/AAAAAAAAALY/Y8rJnQF8HTA/s1600-h/sorrento+and+pompei+129.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuPiQZ5sjLI/AAAAAAAAALY/Y8rJnQF8HTA/s320/sorrento+and+pompei+129.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396405549978651826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highlights:&lt;/span&gt; Say CHEESE! Yeah so I watched a woman make cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Monte Carlo, Monaco &amp;amp; Cannes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuSJpxe1wcI/AAAAAAAAALg/QEVRGtXL5NY/s1600-h/cannes,+nice,+monaco+219.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuSJpxe1wcI/AAAAAAAAALg/QEVRGtXL5NY/s320/cannes,+nice,+monaco+219.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396589604247028162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highlights:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I saw the hospital where Angelina gave birth to the twins. Saw the roof of the house of the King of Denmark (I think). Saw Tina Turner and Richard Gere's houses (just the side). Saw Vanessa Paradis filming a movie (I think the title is Heartbreaker). Oh and there's the cute medieval town called Eze. It's the playground of the Rich &amp;amp; Famous. If you're not rich &amp;amp; famous you do not belong here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I don't know where my next destination will be. I have Greece, Egypt, Paris, Australia, Tallin, Japan and Germany in mind. I also have this dream of going back to Barcelona and Florence someday. For now I am happy at home sitting on my couch daydreaming. Till then... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-1218274518298979035?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7rYIPAi91yDY02ywccEQ-_0ahLw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7rYIPAi91yDY02ywccEQ-_0ahLw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/MPNFanRZkYY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/1218274518298979035/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/wonder-where-ill-go-next.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/1218274518298979035?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/1218274518298979035?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/MPNFanRZkYY/wonder-where-ill-go-next.html" title="Hmmm...wonder where I'll go next..." /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SuSPw2YDxxI/AAAAAAAAALw/14UN3znKUb8/s72-c/passport.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/wonder-where-ill-go-next.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQMRXgyeSp7ImA9WxNVEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-2410729341854930889</id><published>2009-10-21T23:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T09:03:04.691-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-22T09:03:04.691-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="snuggie" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="trailer parks" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bayanihan" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Oprah" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ghetto" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="culture shock" /><title>American Culture Shock</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.esc.org.uk/images/safety-in-the-home/danger-death.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 215px; height: 184px;" src="http://www.esc.org.uk/images/safety-in-the-home/danger-death.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I thought that growing up watching American TV shows like Sesame Street, The Cosby Show, Beverly Hills 90210, Melrose Place, Oprah etc was enough to prepare me for America. That wasn't the case. Six and half years later I am still not used to a lot of things and still get appalled &amp;amp; horrified by things I see and experience everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Extreme PDA (Public Display of Affection)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm all for love and affection. Not a fan of groping &amp;amp; petting. Not a fan especially if the couple PDA-ing are UGLY. Seriously. Get a room! There's nothing wrong with showing affection but it should be done in the right place, right time and in good taste. In old Filipino tradition, if a man is caught kissing a woman or holding her hand, he is supposed to marry her. And that is how I got my &lt;a href="http://mroberdabakod.blogspot.com/"&gt;hubby&lt;/a&gt; to marry me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Snow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a child I would sing White Christmas as if we experience snow in the Philippines. Seeing snow for the first time was a dream come true. My first snow experience was in Washington. Cool! Literally. However, after a few hours of snow, I was over it. I realized I don't like being in the cold. I freeze in 50 deg weather.  It is wet, slippery and cold. That is why I live in LA. I'm a high maintenance beeyotch! In the winter time, I'd like to be able to sip my coffee in the patio of a coffee shop or wear flip flops while everyone else in the East Coast or Midwest is scraping off their windshields or shoveling their  driveways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/St_2X-NEfzI/AAAAAAAAAJg/1UkvNKwBpNg/s1600-h/snuggie_blanketsleeves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/St_2X-NEfzI/AAAAAAAAAJg/1UkvNKwBpNg/s200/snuggie_blanketsleeves.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395301770308386610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Snuggies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think even Americans will agree that this is a pretty ridiculous piece of clothing. Not only does it make you look like a member of a cult, it also makes you look like you dressed yourself while drunk. Whoever designed this is one lazy SOB. Don't get me started with &lt;a href="https://www.designersnuggie.com/flare/next"&gt;Designer Snuggies&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="https://www.snuggiefordogs.com/flare/next"&gt;Snuggies for Dogs&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Toe socks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wear it with Snuggies and you got yourself a winner!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;UGGs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More like UGHHH! Wear it with toe socks &amp;amp; Snuggies and you got the woman of your dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Super Size  Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a $1 more you can get a large soda. For another dollar you get a large fries. So with $2 you just got yourself a future heart attack. What is up with fast food restaurants and huge servings? How can people stuff their face with that amount of food? Whenever we go out to eat, we always split the appetizer and the entree. Now if you're wondering why I'm big as a couch, it's because of my genes. We're just Big, Beautiful, Curvy Women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Talk Shows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time in my life when I worked the night shift and as soon as I got home I would turn on the TV and watch The Jerry Springer Show (Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!),Tyra &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LPloclVWWus&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;"The Psycho Narcissist"&lt;/a&gt; Banks Show and Maury "The Paternity Tests" Povitch show. Did I miss anything? Oh. Dr. Phil... he thinks he is GOD and he tells it like it is. Dr. Phil, son of Oprah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Reality Shows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Temptation Island, Bridezilla, Flavor of Love, 18 and counting, Real Housewives of ____________, Rock of Love, I Love New York... the list of ridiculous reality TV shows just goes on and on and on. Sure I watch reality TV. It's a hit or miss. There are just some shows that are difficult to watch because they are so trashy where the fame-whores would do anything for fortune and fame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Trailer Parks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/St_2xy8rVOI/AAAAAAAAAJo/Jo8VSo-l-SU/s1600-h/bayanihan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/St_2xy8rVOI/AAAAAAAAAJo/Jo8VSo-l-SU/s200/bayanihan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395302213963437282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also known as the breeding ground for the w**** trash. I kid. I kid. I call these "moving houses" . They kinda remind me of our version of moving houses. It's called &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bayanihan"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bayanihan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. It means a group of people in one community trying to achieve one goal. It can be manifested in many ways. However it is best demonstrated through an old Filipino tradition of neighbors helping a relocating family by getting volunteers to carry a whole house, and literally move it to its new location.                                                                                                                                                                              &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/25/103053707_82776c774a.jpg"&gt;[image source]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/St_5w6i2BfI/AAAAAAAAAJw/3Eimm_mDfZE/s1600-h/hip+hop+pants.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/St_5w6i2BfI/AAAAAAAAAJw/3Eimm_mDfZE/s200/hip+hop+pants.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395305497357583858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ghetto Clothing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pants should be huge and must be able to fit yo' entire posse in it. Get cool boxer shorts that should be hangin' out. Yo belt better be stylin' fo shizzle! Shirt better be long enough to fit hoops playah Yao Ming. Brand of choice? Nike or Fubu. Gotta have them shiny ass shoes mofo &amp;amp; be mixin' the orange, green, red or purple kool-aid colors. Remember NOT TO tie the knots coz that ain't gangsta enuf! Get a hat. Wear it sideways. If you got extra cash, get &lt;a href="http://www.icedoutgear.com/grillz-gold-teeth.php"&gt;GRILLZ!&lt;/a&gt; Remember to walk with an OG limp and keep one hand on yo' gat and the other on yo' nutz!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You really cannot judge a book by it's cover. The America I envisioned growing up is not the America I know now. Living here is an ongoing learning process. Even if some Americans (you know who you are!) give me a hard time and I don't agree to do things the American way I still &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RINqibpWOzQ"&gt;love this country&lt;/a&gt;. It's what I call home now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-2410729341854930889?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nTy9ZuTDAtjy3U6SIu9E5Wjra-c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nTy9ZuTDAtjy3U6SIu9E5Wjra-c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/o6s7YvIAi0Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/2410729341854930889/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/culture-shock-america.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/2410729341854930889?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/2410729341854930889?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/o6s7YvIAi0Y/culture-shock-america.html" title="American Culture Shock" /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/St_2X-NEfzI/AAAAAAAAAJg/1UkvNKwBpNg/s72-c/snuggie_blanketsleeves.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/culture-shock-america.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0ENQ3kzfip7ImA9WxNVEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-485612584684291954</id><published>2009-10-19T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T20:34:52.786-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-19T20:34:52.786-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tivo" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Wolverines" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Michigan" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Football" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Go Blue" /><title>Football, the other woman in our relationship.</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/St0s1hIqniI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/PHz15FTFO3U/s1600-h/wedgie-tackle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 194px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/St0s1hIqniI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/PHz15FTFO3U/s320/wedgie-tackle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394517226599128610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I can only think of two reasons for a woman to like or love football -- she was raised by a family who lovesss football or she slept with or dated a football player. I must admit, I am now a football fan. I, however, do not fall in either category. I dated and married a guy who is passionate about football... &lt;a href="http://rivals.yahoo.com/ncaa/football"&gt;college football&lt;/a&gt; to be exact. I now look forward to yelling at the TV on the weekends, often see myself reading blogs or news about it or even calling plays and penalties. So how did I get here? It wasn't easy coz there's really nothing appealing about guys wearing tight pants caught in awkward positions when they pile on top of each other.                                             &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://weblogs.baltimoresun.com/news/captioncall/wedgie-tackle.jpg"&gt;[image source]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to all the women who wanna be like me, here are a few tips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Adopt a team&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is usually your boyfriend or husband's team. In my case I adopted the &lt;a href="http://www.mgoblue.com/"&gt;Michigan Wolverines&lt;/a&gt;. Yeah! Go Blue! The hubby is from Michigan and went to the &lt;a href="http://www.umich.edu/"&gt;University of Michigan&lt;/a&gt; so that explains it. I enjoy exchanging high fives (that usually lands on his face) with the hubby when they score or the other team gets a penalty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Know your team&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should be able to identify who the players are and what positions they play. It is not enough to call a player "the black guy with the tattoo" (believe me there are dozens of them out there), "the one who just threw the ball" (quarterback), "the guy who is running" (running back), "the guy with dreadlocks" or "Number 28". The players have names, use them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ask questions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you did not grow up watching football, it will take a while to understand the rules of the sport. It is OK to ask questions... even the stupidest questions. Some guys are so passionate about football that if you ask them about it, it is all they want to talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Learn the Lingo (or at least be  familiar with it)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turnover - Not to be mistaken for the apple turnover&lt;br /&gt;Sack - Not to be mistaken for a large bag for potatoes&lt;br /&gt;Scrambling - It has nothing to do with eggs&lt;br /&gt;Red shirt - Not an actual red shirt&lt;br /&gt;True freshman - There is no such thing as a fake freshman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It is OK to get emotional&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/St0vKJEKxxI/AAAAAAAAAJY/o-WYvn5ejY8/s1600-h/clipart-football.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 293px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/St0vKJEKxxI/AAAAAAAAAJY/o-WYvn5ejY8/s320/clipart-football.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394519779938322194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't they always say women are too emotional? Football is the best way to vent out all those different emotions -- happy, sad, mad, psycho etc.. It is perfectly OK to yell, cuss &amp;amp; throw things around. You'd never guess I am Filipino when you hear me swear. I am proud to say that because of football I now cuss like a sailor and at the end of football season we may need a new couch (I will probably break our couch from jumping on it!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Football could be a guy thing, but not for long. More and more women are getting into it. It ain't rocket science. Just a bunch of guys wearing tight pants running over each other trying to score a touchdown. See? Easy right? OK gotta go. I'm gonna watch a replay (we Tivo'd) of Michigan's epic victory over Notre Dame.                                   &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.clipartguide.com/_named_clipart_images/0060-0808-2217-5026_Crazy_Woman_Football_Fan_Yelling_Go%21_clipart_image.jpg"&gt;[image source]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-485612584684291954?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T4pb49d0iDcIoUXzdAbgpdBb_Fk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T4pb49d0iDcIoUXzdAbgpdBb_Fk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/EmUcD5ByXVk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/485612584684291954/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/football-other-woman-in-our.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/485612584684291954?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/485612584684291954?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/EmUcD5ByXVk/football-other-woman-in-our.html" title="Football, the other woman in our relationship." /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/St0s1hIqniI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/PHz15FTFO3U/s72-c/wedgie-tackle.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/football-other-woman-in-our.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08GRHYzfip7ImA9WxNWGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-2237929092774138054</id><published>2009-10-17T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T21:57:05.886-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-17T21:57:05.886-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="walis tambo" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bayong" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="walis tingting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="niyog" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bunot" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tabo" /><title>Things uniquely Filipino and Corporal Punishment</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StqL6skV14I/AAAAAAAAAH4/QP1UwhbFPhc/s1600-h/niyog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 262px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StqL6skV14I/AAAAAAAAAH4/QP1UwhbFPhc/s320/niyog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393777344241850242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For dinner tonight I made Spicy Red Curry Chicken that has coconut milk in the recipe. I don't know... but for some reason I don't trust coconut milk in a can. Where I came from, we extracted coconut milk the old school way. There's no exact translation in English but we call it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kudkuran ng niyog &lt;/span&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;niyog&lt;/span&gt; being coconut). It looks like a low stool with a sharp metal object at the nose of the board. The sharp metal object is the actual coconut grater. It's not easy to describe how to use this coconut grater but I hope the photo helps. This &lt;a href="http://burntlumpia.typepad.com/burnt_lumpia/2009/01/how-to-open-a-coconut.html"&gt;link &lt;/a&gt;(courtesy of &lt;a href="http://burntlumpia.typepad.com/"&gt;Burnt Lumpia&lt;/a&gt;) actually shows you an actual photo of the grater and a HOW TO video. Anyway, to extract the milk, the shreds of coconut are put in a cloth and squeezed. Pretty cool huh? Oh and it also requires strong arms &amp;amp; a lot of patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://my_sarisari_store.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/epv0101ccc.jpg"&gt;image source&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The other things uniquely Filipino...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Walis Tingting&lt;/b&gt;. Broomstick. We are no witches but we sure love our broomstick. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StqNWxkLgTI/AAAAAAAAAIA/UsHVmoFIOMM/s1600-h/broom_tingting.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StqNWxkLgTI/AAAAAAAAAIA/UsHVmoFIOMM/s200/broom_tingting.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393778926131314994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It is made out of the rib of dried coconut leaves that are bound together mainly used to sweep the ground. It is more like an "outside" broom. I remember when I was a kid and I was being stubborn my mother would chase me with it and if she caught me she'd whack my ass with it. I have one at home that I sometimes use to clean our patio but most of the time I use it to wack the hubby's ass if he's being stubborn. Like mother, like daughter. My mother is sure proud of the daughter she raised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/133/407673483_cc89631278.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 149px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/133/407673483_cc89631278.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Walis Tambo.&lt;/span&gt; Apparently the best Walis Tambo in the Philippines comes from my hometown &lt;a href="http://www.gobaguio.com/baguio-products.html"&gt;Baguio City&lt;/a&gt;! Wohoo! Shout out to my peeps! This is the "inside" broom. It is made of grass. Not sure which grass (definitely not weed). Even with the popularity of vacuum cleaners &amp;amp; the Roomba, the walis tambo is still very much part of any Filipino household. It is easy to use without the gazillion attachments. Yes. You guessed it right. My mother used to chase me with this too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bunot.&lt;/span&gt; Another cleaning tool made of coconut husk use to polish the floor. You step on the husk&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StqRrDHT8tI/AAAAAAAAAIo/RWHcxgF5v9s/s1600-h/bunot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 170px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StqRrDHT8tI/AAAAAAAAAIo/RWHcxgF5v9s/s320/bunot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393783672485966546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; with one foot and just slide it back and forth. You have to be healthy and fit to do this. By healthy I mean no hip, leg or knee problem. It's a good way to shed those extra pounds. I used to do this which explains why my right leg and thigh is more muscular than the left. Yeah call me a freak. My mother did not chase me with this but I remember her almost throwing this at me like a frisbee. Don't get me wrong, my mother is a nice person. I love and miss her to death. But I was just a bad kid!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tabo.&lt;/span&gt; In English it's&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StqSPc2-DXI/AAAAAAAAAI4/I5GnKmWDJto/s1600-h/tabo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 152px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StqSPc2-DXI/AAAAAAAAAI4/I5GnKmWDJto/s200/tabo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393784297872035186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; a water dipper (I had to Google this shit!). It is used as a toilet paper alternative (explained in detail &lt;a href="http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/782151/tabo_the_toilet_paper_alternative_in.html?cat=16"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;) and also used to take a bath. Every bathroom is equipped with a bucket full of water accompanied with a dipper. To take a bath, you dip the dipper in the bucket to get water and pour the water over your head or your body. I just found out (while writing  this blog) that there is a &lt;a href="http://taboproject.multiply.com/"&gt;Tabo Travel Troupe&lt;/a&gt;. Their goal is to take pictures of the humble TABO in various locations around the globe and share them. (My mother never chased me with this, coz this thing was in our bathroom. She may have been firm but at least she's hygienic. Thank God!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StqSncVIxKI/AAAAAAAAAJA/r7TOWdt2mSo/s1600-h/bayong.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 207px; height: 185px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StqSncVIxKI/AAAAAAAAAJA/r7TOWdt2mSo/s320/bayong.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393784710046991522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bayong.&lt;/span&gt; In the States we have paper bags &amp;amp; plastic bags, in the Philippines we have a Bayong. It is simply a basket made of indigenous materials like rattan or bamboo that are woven together used to carry purchases from the market. It is better and more reliable than paper and plastic bags because it doesn't break easily. It was so much fun going to the market with a bayong in hand. I remember carrying a bayong with a bunch of vegetables in it with pig ears or a dead chicken's head sticking out from it. My mother did not hit me with this because we got along very well when it came to food, cooking &amp;amp; market-ing! (RIP Ma!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I wanted to impress the hubby with my coconut grating skills, I decided to make the chicken curry with store bought coconut milk. It turned out really good and made &lt;a href="http://mroberdabakod.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mr. Ober Da Bakod&lt;/a&gt; a &lt;a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/the_way_to_a_man%27s_heart_is_through_his_stomach"&gt;happy hubby&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-2237929092774138054?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kP6Lc1R8-k4CZrIHsKeScN_w-EI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kP6Lc1R8-k4CZrIHsKeScN_w-EI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kP6Lc1R8-k4CZrIHsKeScN_w-EI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kP6Lc1R8-k4CZrIHsKeScN_w-EI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/eZZYmolwB7o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/2237929092774138054/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/things-uniquely-filipino-and-corporal.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/2237929092774138054?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/2237929092774138054?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/eZZYmolwB7o/things-uniquely-filipino-and-corporal.html" title="Things uniquely Filipino and Corporal Punishment" /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StqL6skV14I/AAAAAAAAAH4/QP1UwhbFPhc/s72-c/niyog.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/things-uniquely-filipino-and-corporal.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUGRHk-fSp7ImA9WxNWFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-280928548972528737</id><published>2009-10-15T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T23:57:05.755-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-15T23:57:05.755-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="arnel pineda" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="white house" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="white family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="nurse" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cruise" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kababayan" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="filipino" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="caregiver" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="call center" /><title>What can brown do for you?</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgDeitvk0I/AAAAAAAAAGY/kC1AZXuCG8M/s1600-h/what_can_brown_do_for_you_tshirt-p235684017278737105qznd_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgDeitvk0I/AAAAAAAAAGY/kC1AZXuCG8M/s200/what_can_brown_do_for_you_tshirt-p235684017278737105qznd_400.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393064377025794882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I borrowed the title of this blog from UPS' very popular ad campaign. I, however will not talk about the cool peeps of &lt;a href="http://www.ups.com/"&gt;UPS&lt;/a&gt;. Brown refers to my fellow &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pinoy"&gt;pinoys&lt;/a&gt;.  Just like UPS I'd like to think that most Filipinos are hardworking people and they have a lot to offer. Some Americans or foreigners don't notice it but they probably encounter a Filipino everyday in their life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Nurse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgC7ki7CkI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/t5n8W7p0Ah4/s1600-h/octomom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 205px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgC7ki7CkI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/t5n8W7p0Ah4/s320/octomom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393063776221858370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;They are considered the unsung heroes of America. They are all over the States. Every Filipino knows or is related to a nurse and every hospital has at least one Filipino nurse on board. Remember &lt;a href="http://www.octomomma.com/"&gt;Octomom&lt;/a&gt;? She had a 52-member labor &amp;amp; delivery team  composed of mostly Filipinos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Caregiver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgDr9aswHI/AAAAAAAAAGg/307MBLzJdws/s1600-h/caregiver.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgDr9aswHI/AAAAAAAAAGg/307MBLzJdws/s200/caregiver.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393064607531974770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My boss' mother is being taken care of by a Filipino caregiver. She stays with her 24hrs a day, 6 days a week. In Beverly Hills, almost every old, rich person has a Filipino caregiver. They are perfect for this job because Filipinos are caring, patient and very respectful to the elders. So next time you see a Filipino, be nice to them because when you get old they could be the one taking care of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Physical Therapist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgJMTvEwyI/AAAAAAAAAHY/sf7Dvh1IAfo/s1600-h/therapist.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgJMTvEwyI/AAAAAAAAAHY/sf7Dvh1IAfo/s320/therapist.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393070660836967202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These are some of my friends who can make or break your bones... so be nice to me! (I hope they still want to be my friends after stealing and posting this photo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Customer Service Representative&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgD7KOgjVI/AAAAAAAAAGo/ps5_NxxwN5Q/s1600-h/call-center-2-web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 162px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgD7KOgjVI/AAAAAAAAAGo/ps5_NxxwN5Q/s200/call-center-2-web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393064868668542290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;OK. So you can't figure out why your internet and cable don't work. You call your cable company's 1-800 hotline. Ashley or Joshua answers the phone and helps you. The hotline connects you straight to the Philippines. Ashley's real name is actually Maribel. Joshua's real name is Fortunato. Their names are made to sound more Western because they mainly cater to US, UK &amp;amp; other western countries. The Filipinos' edge is their ability to speak English -- very GOOD English. The Philippines is the 3rd largest English speaking country in the world and that gives them the competitive advantage. The typical &lt;a href="http://www.callcenterphilippines.net/"&gt;call center&lt;/a&gt; agent can mimic any American accent from any US region.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Cruise Ship Crew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgEbAjlobI/AAAAAAAAAG4/2iutnAO-U8c/s1600-h/crew.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgEbAjlobI/AAAAAAAAAG4/2iutnAO-U8c/s320/crew.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393065415828414898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Earlier this year the hubby &amp;amp; I went on a &lt;a href="http://www.ncl.com/nclweb/destination/itineraries.html?subDestinationCode=EUROPE.MEDITERRANEAN&amp;amp;destinationCode=EUROPE&amp;amp;shipCode="&gt;cruise&lt;/a&gt; with his family where we met a lot of Filipinos. The ship's staff is 60% Filipino. I had a chance to talk to some of them and  they all say one thing -- life at sea is not easy. They work 10 straight months &amp;amp; spend 2 months back home. The pay is not that big but board &amp;amp; lodging, food &amp;amp; uniform are free &amp;amp; health insurance is included. Despite the low pay, they manage to support their families in the Philippines and send  their kids to  school. Joseph, our cabin steward is awesome! He made sure our group's rooms are clean. everyday. I think that we were treated like VIPs because of the Filipino connection.  It only gets better when the bar tender is Filipino  (Hello?! Alcoholic in da haus!) and the staff gives you first hand gossip about celebrities on the ship. If you ask my opinion, they are the real unsung heroes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Journey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgSUia5yUI/AAAAAAAAAHg/PsPHLsHFPhw/s1600-h/journey2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 237px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgSUia5yUI/AAAAAAAAAHg/PsPHLsHFPhw/s320/journey2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393080697822497090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Who doesn't love &lt;a href="http://www.journeymusic.com/"&gt;Journey&lt;/a&gt;? Who doesn't love the fact that the new lead singer sounds like Steve Perry? &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arnel_Pineda"&gt;Arnel Pineda&lt;/a&gt; -- the small town boy who was discovered through &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S0FqpXY1Lvk"&gt;Youtube&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Chef&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/1c/Cristeta_comerford.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 190px; height: 279px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/1c/Cristeta_comerford.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Who feeds the Most Powerful Man in the world? &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cristeta_Comerford"&gt;Cristeta Comerford&lt;/a&gt;, executive chef of &lt;a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/"&gt;The White House&lt;/a&gt;. So in reality (minus Secret Agents &amp;amp; food tasters) the life &amp;amp; health of President Obama &amp;amp; his family are in the hands of a &lt;a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/kababayan"&gt;kababayan&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Finally&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgGL0vcBMI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Su1_eLIMrrs/s1600-h/DSC05273.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgGL0vcBMI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Su1_eLIMrrs/s400/DSC05273.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393067353982108866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;She brings color into a very white family!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-280928548972528737?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fa0SUW062fc68qVoqGCTPFxZRGs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fa0SUW062fc68qVoqGCTPFxZRGs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/uZRKuMk9iMs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/280928548972528737/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/what-can-brown-do-for-you.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/280928548972528737?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/280928548972528737?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/uZRKuMk9iMs/what-can-brown-do-for-you.html" title="What can brown do for you?" /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StgDeitvk0I/AAAAAAAAAGY/kC1AZXuCG8M/s72-c/what_can_brown_do_for_you_tshirt-p235684017278737105qznd_400.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/what-can-brown-do-for-you.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEMQXc7cSp7ImA9WxNWFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-6649822625346059902</id><published>2009-10-14T21:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T22:31:20.909-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-14T22:31:20.909-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love letters" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="courtship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guitar hero" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="harana" /><title>Dating (The Filipino Way vs The American Way)</title><content type="html">This is when my life gets really interesting. Dating is a challenge. If I look at my dating history (in America only), I feel like I need to write a whole blog about it. I've dated a lot of interesting &amp;amp; NOT SO interesting men. If there was a job opening for a Dating Guru, my dating experience will definitely get me that job. Allow me to share what I've learned from dating in America and how it compares to what I am accustomed to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***This post is not meant to offend american guys. These are all based on my observations &amp;amp; dating experiences.***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StatOhC5iBI/AAAAAAAAAFo/yQgYbj7ToG8/s1600-h/online_dating_regular_dating.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 199px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StatOhC5iBI/AAAAAAAAAFo/yQgYbj7ToG8/s200/online_dating_regular_dating.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392688068723050514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Courtship&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The Filipino Way:&lt;/span&gt; If a man sees a lady he likes he would seek out the help of a friend or a family member to get her name and number. He then asks the permission of the girl's father whether he can visit her at home. The ardent suitor patiently pursues the girl of his dreams. This is the gentleman thing to do. The parents can approve or disapprove of the suitor. There is no physical contact such as kissing &amp;amp; holding hands at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The American Way:&lt;/span&gt; You snooze, you lose. Courtship? What is that? If a man sees a lady he likes, he gets her name, number and arranges a date ASAP. He is not interested in meeting the parents right away and is more interested in the physical contact at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StatdzxRo5I/AAAAAAAAAFw/SainCzGeE44/s1600-h/Harana_by_Vangielyn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 146px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StatdzxRo5I/AAAAAAAAAFw/SainCzGeE44/s200/Harana_by_Vangielyn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392688331447444370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Serenading&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt; (Harana)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The Filipino Way:&lt;/span&gt; In order to show that the man is &lt;span&gt;serious with his intentions to a woman, the man sings a love song in front of the young lady's house.&lt;/span&gt; The man or one of his friends usually plays the guitar to provide background music to his song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The American Way:&lt;/span&gt; Guitar Hero or &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wajrQBtbb-c"&gt;reciting the alphabet backwards during a sobriety test&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Love Letters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StauILkLLYI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NvopOSOL7Ig/s1600-h/postit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 141px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StauILkLLYI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NvopOSOL7Ig/s200/postit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392689059389451650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The Filipino Way:&lt;/span&gt; Poetic writing is a sweet way of winning a woman's heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The American Way:&lt;/span&gt; Post It!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who pays?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The Filipino Way:&lt;/span&gt; The man pays even if it's the woman's idea to go out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The American Way:&lt;/span&gt; Whoever did the asking. Tip: If you don't wanna pay, don't ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Physical contact (Kissing &amp;amp; Holding Hands)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The Filipino Way:&lt;/span&gt; Usually happens after the courtship -- when the woman finally accepts the man as her boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The American Way:&lt;/span&gt; Usually happens after the woman had a few drinks -- when she has lost all inhibitions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The Filipino Way: &lt;/span&gt;Traditionally, most couples save themselves until the night of the wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The American Way: &lt;/span&gt;Traditionally, the men (the responsible ones at least) always carry condoms in their wallets because they never know when they are getting laid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dating especially in a city like LA is not easy. It is expensive, risky and just like in real estate -- it's all about location, location, location. You have to be where the action is. I guess that I got tired of dating that when I met the &lt;a href="http://mroberdabakod.blogspot.com/"&gt;hubby&lt;/a&gt; I tricked him in thinking that I am the girl of his dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-6649822625346059902?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BjtPphQpg21U78EV-YJECLJ4XfI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BjtPphQpg21U78EV-YJECLJ4XfI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/PwvrdvIewA0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/6649822625346059902/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/dating-filipino-way-vs-american-way.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/6649822625346059902?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/6649822625346059902?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/PwvrdvIewA0/dating-filipino-way-vs-american-way.html" title="Dating (The Filipino Way vs The American Way)" /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StatOhC5iBI/AAAAAAAAAFo/yQgYbj7ToG8/s72-c/online_dating_regular_dating.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/dating-filipino-way-vs-american-way.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QFSHc8eSp7ImA9WxNVEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-2305549196368655711</id><published>2009-10-13T20:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T20:21:59.971-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-20T20:21:59.971-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="american dream" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="los angeles" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="super size" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="booze" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yahoo personals" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="coming to america" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="freeways" /><title>Coming to America (Not the Movie)</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StVDoSGiQ8I/AAAAAAAAAEo/BnZo5EurmtU/s1600-h/leaving-on-a-jet-plane.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 134px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StVDoSGiQ8I/AAAAAAAAAEo/BnZo5EurmtU/s200/leaving-on-a-jet-plane.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392290488179114946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When I was a little girl, my mother used to bring me to church and at some point in the mass I would sneak away and sit next to the lightest skinned people in Church. I also remember running after planes &amp;amp; helicopters when they flew over our house. My mother knew at a very young age that I have a fetish for white/light skinned people &amp;amp; I would enjoy plane rides. She knew I'd go &lt;a href="http://www.photohype.com/DrSeuss.htm"&gt;places&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://mononoaware.concretebadger.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/leaving-on-a-jet-plane.jpg"&gt;[image source]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Big M&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ove&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2003 with the blessing of my parents, I packed one suitcase and on&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StVRSXE39QI/AAAAAAAAAFg/mEBNfrF8VG0/s1600-h/american_dream_just_add_money1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 304px; height: 215px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StVRSXE39QI/AAAAAAAAAFg/mEBNfrF8VG0/s320/american_dream_just_add_money1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392305504719992066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balikbayan_box"&gt;balik&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balikbayan_box"&gt;baya&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balikbayan_box"&gt;n &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balikbayan_box"&gt;b&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balikbayan_box"&gt;ox&lt;/a&gt; (with dried fish and all) and came to America. First stop was Seattle/Tacoma. Coming from a place where it's usually hot &amp;amp; humid, I froze to the 60 deg weather that greeted me upon my arrival. So my original plan was to visit, see how I like it &amp;amp; maybe (just maybe) find an &lt;a href="http://mroberdabakod.blogspot.com/"&gt;american&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://mroberdabakod.blogspot.com/"&gt; citizen&lt;/a&gt; to marry and we will &lt;a href="http://www.uscis.gov/portal/site/uscis/menuitem.eb1d4c2a3e5b9ac89243c6a7543f6d1a/?vgnextoid=9c8aa6c515083210VgnVCM100000082ca60aRCRD&amp;amp;vgnextchannel=9c8aa6c515083210VgnVCM100000082ca60aRCRD"&gt;live happily ever after&lt;/a&gt;. HA! I didn't mean to end this blog this soon. OK. So my plan was to visit and see how I like it. Eventually I moved to Los Angeles, found a job, got a work visa &amp;amp; posted my profile on &lt;a href="http://personals.yahoo.com/?ovchn=INK&amp;amp;ovcpn=smx-&amp;amp;ovcrn=Personals&amp;amp;ovtac=PI"&gt;Yahoo Personals&lt;/a&gt; -- Beautiful Filipina  (Better than &lt;a href="http://www.chanceforlove.com/"&gt;Russian)&lt;/a&gt; Looking for American Husband. Just kidding. I'll get to that later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;First Imp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StVH0PFExdI/AAAAAAAAAE4/e_Q4q0D4fvE/s1600-h/freeway.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 131px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StVH0PFExdI/AAAAAAAAAE4/e_Q4q0D4fvE/s200/freeway.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392295091572622802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ression&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are just too many freeways in America! Way too many to remember. You have to take the freeway to get to almost every place. I'm usually good with numbers but freeway/exit numbers are not my favorite and if you include the North, South, East, West directions then I'm really fucked!  In LA alone, I know at least 22 &lt;a href="http://www.davestravelcorner.com/articles/los-angeles/LA-Freeways.htm"&gt;freeways&lt;/a&gt;. There's the 5, 10, 134, 22, 110, 105, 60, 405, 118, 170 etc. The list just goes on and on. Then there was my first meal in a diner by the Sea&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StVItUd4AJI/AAAAAAAAAFA/T_B9bwImPfc/s1600-h/big_burger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 170px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StVItUd4AJI/AAAAAAAAAFA/T_B9bwImPfc/s200/big_burger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392296072271364242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;tac airport. I ordered a burger &amp;amp; fries (very American!). I'm used to eating burgers that are as big as my palm so when my order came I almost collapsed. The burger was as big as my face! And the fries? It looked like they harvested all the potatoes from Idaho, fried it and served them to me. That movie Super Size Me? I can totally relate to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Making friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StVMJhWgAWI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ViJJWKyRdqA/s1600-h/vegas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StVMJhWgAWI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ViJJWKyRdqA/s200/vegas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392299855301312866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once settled in LA, I did what most first timers did. I went to &lt;a href="http://www.universalstudioshollywood.com/"&gt;Universal Studios&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://disneyland.disney.go.com/disneyland/en_US/home/home?name=HomePage&amp;amp;bhcp=1"&gt;Disneyland&lt;/a&gt;, took a picture of the &lt;a href="http://www.hollywoodsign.org/"&gt;Hollywood sign&lt;/a&gt; &amp;amp; took at least one picture with a "star" at the &lt;a href="http://www.hollywoodusa.co.uk/walkoffame.htm"&gt;Walk of Fame&lt;/a&gt;. LA is great city with so many things to do -- the beach, shopping, dining &amp;amp; celebrity sighting. My roommate Lucy was my first friend (God Bless her soul). She introduced me to binge drinking Latino style. Every Friday after work Lucy &amp;amp; I somehow end up in her friend's friend's house or any random place to get drunk. I remember waking up in the living room of some navy guy's apartment in San Diego. I remember getting kicked out of some college dorm (WTF? Being a 30yo woman and the oldest in the group, this is soo embarrassing!). I also remember spending the night at a &lt;a href="http://www.normsrestaurants.com/"&gt;Norms&lt;/a&gt; parking lot (the breakfast plac&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StVOZROZeTI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/3shp8en4s7o/s1600-h/my-booze.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StVOZROZeTI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/3shp8en4s7o/s200/my-booze.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392302324873525554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e) because everyone was too drunk to drive. I also remember Lucy &amp;amp; I taking the &lt;a href="http://metro.net/riding_metro/maps/images/rail_map.pdf"&gt;train&lt;/a&gt; (after a night of partying) from &lt;a href="http://www.ci.manhattan-beach.ca.us/"&gt;Ma&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ci.manhattan-beach.ca.us/"&gt;nhattan&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ci.manhattan-beach.ca.us/"&gt; Beach&lt;/a&gt; to our home in &lt;a href="http://www.ci.pasadena.ca.us/"&gt;Pasadena&lt;/a&gt; in our PJs! Keeping it classy was not in our vocabulary. Then I met new friends -- a bunch of binge drinking, sloppy white people. On the weekends, my filipino friends &amp;amp; I would be seen hanging out with them in &lt;a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/poop-deck-hermosa-beach"&gt;dive bars&lt;/a&gt; while pretending to dig their shallowness. Unfortunately, my first three years in America were spent drinking and I still feel hungover to this day. The saddest part? If one of my relatives need a liver, they cannot count on me for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;To Be Continued...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? You think I can put all the crap I've been through in one blog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-2305549196368655711?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y9kXQwpFXZKe03j0jRc9yLx8hso/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y9kXQwpFXZKe03j0jRc9yLx8hso/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y9kXQwpFXZKe03j0jRc9yLx8hso/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y9kXQwpFXZKe03j0jRc9yLx8hso/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/n-mybrc9zBw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/2305549196368655711/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/coming-to-america-not-movie.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/2305549196368655711?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/2305549196368655711?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/n-mybrc9zBw/coming-to-america-not-movie.html" title="Coming to America (Not the Movie)" /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/StVDoSGiQ8I/AAAAAAAAAEo/BnZo5EurmtU/s72-c/leaving-on-a-jet-plane.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/coming-to-america-not-movie.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUNSHk4eyp7ImA9WxNXGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-3963967522863601536</id><published>2009-10-06T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T20:41:39.733-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-07T20:41:39.733-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Rosetta stone" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="filipino food" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Manny Pacquiao" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="the filipino channel" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="boxing" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tapsilog" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="steve nash" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Magic Mic" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="twitter" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mafia" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Jollibee" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="longsilog" /><title>Steve Nash... this one's for you!</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.bombastar.com/catalog/images/lrg_men_honorary.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 219px; height: 276px;" src="http://www.bombastar.com/catalog/images/lrg_men_honorary.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bombastar.com/catalog/images/lrg_men_honorary.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;image source&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After watching &lt;a href="http://firequinito.com/archives/40-Manny-Pacquiao-blasts-Ricky-Hatton-off-to-wonderland.html"&gt;Manny Pacquiao destroy Ricky Hatton&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steve_Nash"&gt;Steve Nash&lt;/a&gt; mentioned on &lt;a href="http://www.twitter.com/"&gt;Twitter&lt;/a&gt; his admiration for the Filipino boxer and his desire to become an honorary Filipino. Sorry to break your heart Steve but that honor belongs to my husband, &lt;a href="http://mroberdabakod.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mr. Ober Da Bakod&lt;/a&gt;. To answer &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/the_real_nash/status/1688023424"&gt;Steve Nash's question&lt;/a&gt;, here's how you earn your stripes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.justintimberlake.com/uploads/assets/0000/0947/godfather.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 164px; height: 183px;" src="http://www.justintimberlake.com/uploads/assets/0000/0947/godfather.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justintimberlake.com/uploads/assets/0000/0947/godfather.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;image source&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Date, marry or just be friends with a Filipino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the easiest way to get in the Filipino mafia circle.This is also the easiest way to be an honorary filipino. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Warning: Once you're in, there's no turning back. Remember, it's a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mafia"&gt;MAFIA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1RSAVhl3I/AAAAAAAAADY/jv8tDFCnPcw/s1600-h/15966244.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 116px; height: 166px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1RSAVhl3I/AAAAAAAAADY/jv8tDFCnPcw/s200/15966244.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390053698802128754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.barnesandnoble.com/images/15960000/15966244.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;image source&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Learn  basic Filipino words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, the only Filipino words the hubby knows (by heart) are the nasty, ugly &amp;amp; bad words I've taught him throughout the years. I really do not have the patience to teach him a lot of decent filipino (tagalog) words. Plus, I am not a decent woman. Go figure! I appreciate, however that he tries to learn on his own through &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/tagalogwords"&gt;Twitter&lt;/a&gt; &amp;amp; by watching Filipino news or movies with me. I'm really good at translating (maybe I should go work for the UN).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1SbkcOLNI/AAAAAAAAADg/pyqItiRZDLo/s1600-h/filipino+party+4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1SbkcOLNI/AAAAAAAAADg/pyqItiRZDLo/s200/filipino+party+4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390054962624343250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;image souce - Gem's laptop. I have a collection of Filipino buffet photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eat Filipino food (without fear)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Filipinos LOVE their food. If you go to a party (discussed in detail later on), there is always a huge spread of food. Salads, burgers, hotdogs &amp;amp; pizza have no place in filipino parties. Expect to eat rice, noodles, pork &amp;amp; beef. Expect some &lt;a href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/bizarre-foods-with-mrs-ober-da-bakod.html"&gt;Bizarre food&lt;/a&gt;. Do not fear. The trick is not to ask too many questions, just open your mouth, chew and swallow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1Ul-WU1xI/AAAAAAAAADo/MmeJs0G2XOc/s1600-h/DSC01609.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1Ul-WU1xI/AAAAAAAAADo/MmeJs0G2XOc/s200/DSC01609.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390057340400883474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;span&gt;image is from our family reunion I attended in 2005. This is just half of the whole group.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Go to a filipino party (birthday, anniversary and graduation)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When  you are invited, just go. You don't wanna piss off the grandmas, uncles &amp;amp; aunties. Expect to be introduced to a lot of relatives. Bring a pen &amp;amp; paper to keep track of the family tree. Expect a lot of food, singing (discussed in detail later on), chismis and laughter. When grandma asks you to eat, just eat and eat like there's no tomorrow. You will gain a lot of weight but you will also gain the  admiration of Lola Puring &amp;amp; Tita Nene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1VXRYa80I/AAAAAAAAADw/-r0JuSQ_Bhg/s1600-h/15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1VXRYa80I/AAAAAAAAADw/-r0JuSQ_Bhg/s200/15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390058187323536194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That's me! Singing a Karen Carpenter song at my Grandma's 75th birthday party!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sing at least one Videoke song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot think of a filipino household that does not own a &lt;a href="http://www.magicmic.com/us/index.php"&gt;Magic Mic&lt;/a&gt;. The Magic Mic is a microphone that you connect to your TV and has a chip loaded with 5000 songs. It's an All-in-One Karaoke machine. Every filipino has a "singer" in them. Everyone can sing! It is not a surprise that there are a lot of Filipino singers who are world renowned (&lt;a href="http://www.journeymusic.com/pages/theband"&gt;Arnel Pineda -- Journey&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qC-UE24tMnc&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;Charise Pempengco&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a target="_blank" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1440764/"&gt;apl.de&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1440764/"&gt;.ap -- Black Eyed Peas,&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lea_Salonga"&gt;Lea Salonga&lt;/a&gt;). So next time you are at a filipino party, don't be shy, grab that mic and start belting out that &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aretha_Franklin"&gt;Aretha Franklin&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bon_jovi"&gt;Bon Jovi&lt;/a&gt; song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1WTla6SQI/AAAAAAAAAD4/zqeIVYmsMfM/s1600-h/New+TFC.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 154px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1WTla6SQI/AAAAAAAAAD4/zqeIVYmsMfM/s200/New+TFC.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390059223494838530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.filipinotvchannel.com/includes/New%20TFC.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;image source&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Watch The Filipino Channel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the magic mic this is a must have in a filipino household. I, however, do not have &lt;a href="http://www.abs-cbni.com/programming/tfc/index.html"&gt;TFC&lt;/a&gt; at home coz I'm too cheap to include it in our Dish network package. I've brought the hubby to a lot of Filipino parties that he is now very familiar with &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wowowee"&gt;Wowowee&lt;/a&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kris_Aquino"&gt;Kris Aquino&lt;/a&gt;. We also have Filipino news (free) on cable that he watches with me. Wowowee, Kris Aquino &amp;amp;  Filipino News are the only things you need to know to become an honorary filipino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1XIuZ6YBI/AAAAAAAAAEA/BT3mr4yfn1s/s1600-h/RosettaStone_Tagalop_lvl1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 161px; height: 161px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1XIuZ6YBI/AAAAAAAAAEA/BT3mr4yfn1s/s200/RosettaStone_Tagalop_lvl1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390060136439635986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.tvtopten.com/images/RosettaStone_Tagalop_lvl1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;image source&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You should be able to understand Filipino English.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aircon is for A/C, CR (Comfort room) is for bathroom &amp;amp; Ref is for fridge. That's how we say it. Learn it, understand it deal with it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1YQNphxZI/AAAAAAAAAEI/SbceaBVY7pQ/s1600-h/Jollibee20logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 198px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1YQNphxZI/AAAAAAAAAEI/SbceaBVY7pQ/s200/Jollibee20logo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390061364597343634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jollibee.com.ph/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;image source&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You know what Jollibee is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simply put, it's the &lt;a href="http://www.mcdonalds.com/"&gt;McDonald's&lt;/a&gt; of the Philippines. Like it's American counterpart, it has burgers &amp;amp; fries. However what makes &lt;a href="http://www.jollibee.com.ph/"&gt;Jollibee&lt;/a&gt; unique is it's filipino friendly &lt;a href="http://www.jollibee.com.ph/index.php?/menu"&gt;menu&lt;/a&gt;: Filipino spaghetti, palabok, peach-mango pie etc. Mmmmm.. yumm-o! The hubby and I may have to visit this week. He loves the &lt;a href="http://www.jollibee.com.ph/index.php?/menu/chicken"&gt;chicken joy&lt;/a&gt;! It's yummy and it gives him soooo much joy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1ZuBny4dI/AAAAAAAAAEY/xECcgNF0DrA/s1600-h/759681588_e1199a53df.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1ZuBny4dI/AAAAAAAAAEY/xECcgNF0DrA/s200/759681588_e1199a53df.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390062976276554194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1412/759681588_e1199a53df.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;image source&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1412/759681588_e1199a53df.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You've had rice for breakfast (atleast once)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the mexicans love their tortilla &amp;amp; beans, the filipinos love their rice. Rice is staple filipino food. We eat it for breakfast, lunch, snacks &amp;amp; dinner. Like pasta, it can be mixed with anything. I grew up eating fried rice with sausage, dried fish &amp;amp; eggs for breakfast. I now eat bagel, yogurt, fruit, cereals for breakfast (ugh!). The hubby has yet to do this &amp;amp; prove to me that he deserves to be an honorary member of the Filipino mafia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1bZC5h9HI/AAAAAAAAAEg/gU3aTtkQZEM/s1600-h/wbc_lightweight_champion_manny_pacquiao_celebrated_1635039837.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 146px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1bZC5h9HI/AAAAAAAAAEg/gU3aTtkQZEM/s200/wbc_lightweight_champion_manny_pacquiao_celebrated_1635039837.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390064814865380466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.odt.co.nz/files/story/2009/03/wbc_lightweight_champion_manny_pacquiao_celebrated_1635039837.jpg"&gt;image source&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You know Manny Pacquiao&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you do not know who &lt;a href="http://www.hbo.com/boxing/fighters/pacquiao_manny/bio.html"&gt;Manny Pacquiao&lt;/a&gt; is &amp;amp; you haven't seen a single fight then FORGET IT. You simply do not belong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, I have answered Steve Nash's question. It's not easy to be an honorary member but it sure is a lot of fun!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-3963967522863601536?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PjPE42Qak56WNQCQ0Qd_YNunVs4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PjPE42Qak56WNQCQ0Qd_YNunVs4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/WA6Rgm1wU1U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/3963967522863601536/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/steve-nash-this-ones-for-you.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/3963967522863601536?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/3963967522863601536?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/WA6Rgm1wU1U/steve-nash-this-ones-for-you.html" title="Steve Nash... this one's for you!" /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ss1RSAVhl3I/AAAAAAAAADY/jv8tDFCnPcw/s72-c/15966244.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/steve-nash-this-ones-for-you.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QNRH4yeyp7ImA9WxNXF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-3957738428290800926</id><published>2009-10-04T21:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T22:43:15.093-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-04T22:43:15.093-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="teamwork" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Football" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="laundry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="XBOX" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sugardaddy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="chores" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cooking" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="marriage" /><title>Football, Marriage and Teamwork</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SslzA24musI/AAAAAAAAACo/72o49FZcuIY/s1600-h/Football+Platter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 187px; height: 176px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SslzA24musI/AAAAAAAAACo/72o49FZcuIY/s200/Football+Platter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388964887695637186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's football season again. Whether I like it or not &lt;a href="http://mroberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/09/college-football-and-my-filipino-wife.html"&gt;I am forced to participate in Brian's football psycho-ness.&lt;/a&gt; If there is one thing I learned from watching football, it is TEAMWORK. Different individuals with different abilities put their efforts together to achieve a common goal. Marriage is the same thing. I'm no superwoman. Brian is no &lt;a href="http://twitpic.com/kc79i"&gt;superman&lt;/a&gt; either (although sometimes he thinks he is). At home we split the housework and agree on who does what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Laundry:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SslzvqhaAHI/AAAAAAAAACw/yWsZZQQkmd4/s1600-h/16933158.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 237px; height: 178px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SslzvqhaAHI/AAAAAAAAACw/yWsZZQQkmd4/s200/16933158.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388965691830960242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gem sorts.&lt;br /&gt;Brian loads machines.&lt;br /&gt;Brian plays XBOX game.&lt;br /&gt;Brian unloads machines.&lt;br /&gt;Brian resumes XBOX game.&lt;br /&gt;Gem folds (yeah I have a certain way of folding &amp;amp; this is not negotiable).&lt;br /&gt;Gem puts everything in closet (unless they have to be put away somewhere really high).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cooking:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gem goes to the store.&lt;br /&gt;Gem preps all ingredients.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssl0PSubZ0I/AAAAAAAAAC4/p84SSsB4_fM/s1600-h/top-chef-masters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssl0PSubZ0I/AAAAAAAAAC4/p84SSsB4_fM/s200/top-chef-masters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388966235198940994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gem cooks.&lt;br /&gt;Gem eats.&lt;br /&gt;Brian eats more.&lt;br /&gt;Brian takes all dirty dishes, pots &amp;amp; pans in the sink.&lt;br /&gt;Gem sits on couch.&lt;br /&gt;Gem tweets.&lt;br /&gt;Brian watches TV (dirty dishes are still in sink)&lt;br /&gt;Gem reminds Brian to clean the dishes.&lt;br /&gt;Brian says "Yes, babe!"&lt;br /&gt;Gem updates FB.&lt;br /&gt;Gem watches her TV shows.&lt;br /&gt;Gem reminds Brian (for the 2nd time) to clean the dishes.&lt;br /&gt;Brian says "I'll do it after one game of XBOX".&lt;br /&gt;Five games after, Gem reminds Brian about the dishes. She is now pissed.&lt;br /&gt;Brian promises to do the dishes before going to bed.&lt;br /&gt;Gem goes to bed.&lt;br /&gt;Gem is snoring.&lt;br /&gt;Brian finally cleans the dishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cleaning:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssl2Bp3vJBI/AAAAAAAAADA/59qSWuZQWPY/s1600-h/marriage_help_housekeeper_cheaper_t.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssl2Bp3vJBI/AAAAAAAAADA/59qSWuZQWPY/s200/marriage_help_housekeeper_cheaper_t.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388968199917085714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brian helps move all the furniture.&lt;br /&gt;Gem vacuums.&lt;br /&gt;Gem dusts.&lt;br /&gt;Gem mops the kitchen &amp;amp; bathroom floor.&lt;br /&gt;Brian cleans the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;Gem bitches about how she hates cleaning.&lt;br /&gt;Brian tells Gem to shut up &amp;amp; finish cleaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssl3E-9GqkI/AAAAAAAAADQ/00-05hUe2sY/s1600-h/the_worlds_greatest_sugar_daddy_sticker-p217419753921483335qjcl_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 174px; height: 174px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssl3E-9GqkI/AAAAAAAAADQ/00-05hUe2sY/s200/the_worlds_greatest_sugar_daddy_sticker-p217419753921483335qjcl_400.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388969356627978818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Shopping &amp;amp; Bills (simply put):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brian pays bills.&lt;br /&gt;Gem goes shopping with Brian's money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;And that Ladies &amp;amp; Gentlemen is how we keep our home nag-free zone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-3957738428290800926?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fCX7f0K03MB3ncPPbxCr-QuesoU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fCX7f0K03MB3ncPPbxCr-QuesoU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/n1JoNdf8D1c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/3957738428290800926/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/football-marriage-and-teamwork.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/3957738428290800926?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/3957738428290800926?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/n1JoNdf8D1c/football-marriage-and-teamwork.html" title="Football, Marriage and Teamwork" /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SslzA24musI/AAAAAAAAACo/72o49FZcuIY/s72-c/Football+Platter.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/football-marriage-and-teamwork.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEACQHg6eCp7ImA9WxNXFUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-1022745986544594322</id><published>2009-10-02T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T10:59:21.610-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-03T10:59:21.610-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bizarre Food" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="filipino food" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="street food" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Anthony Bourdain" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Andrew Zimmern" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Amazing Race" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="durian" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="balut" /><title>Bizarre Foods with Mrs. Ober Da Bakod</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Bizarre is a french word that means "odd" or "fantastic". Bizarre and food together mean &lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/Fear_Factor/"&gt;Fear Factor&lt;/a&gt; material or something &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/andrewzimmern"&gt;Andrew Zimmern&lt;/a&gt; will eat. Reading the hubby's latest blog topic brought back memories of life &amp;amp; food in the Philippines. When I saw &lt;a href="http://www.travelchannel.com/TV_Shows/Bizarre_Foods/ci.Philippines.show?vgnextfmt=show"&gt;Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern Philippines Edition&lt;/a&gt;, I laughed. I laughed because I ate almost everything he ate (except for the worm &amp;amp; crickets). Sure we are famous for our &lt;a href="http://www.filipinofoodrecipes.net/adobo.htm"&gt;adobo&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lech%C3%B3n"&gt;lechon&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/Anthonybourdain"&gt;Anthony Bourdain&lt;/a&gt; said it's the best he's ever had) but what makes us even popular are the "weird" foods I am about to tell you. And, YES I have tried them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Balut (Duck Embryo)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssbt_PbdTpI/AAAAAAAAABo/iQ76na0CPgg/s1600-h/balut2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 124px; height: 126px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssbt_PbdTpI/AAAAAAAAABo/iQ76na0CPgg/s200/balut2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388255674924617362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why it's COOL: It has been featured/used on &lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/Fear_Factor/stunts/stunt_203_balut.shtml"&gt;Fear Factor&lt;/a&gt; as a means to disgust contestants. It is traditionally considered as an aphrodisiac (I cannot confirm this).&lt;br /&gt;Why it's UNCOOL: People who see or eat this the first time think they are Feasting on &lt;a href="http://www.plannedparenthood.org/health-topics/abortion-4260.htm"&gt;Aborted &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.plannedparenthood.org/health-topics/abortion-4260.htm"&gt;Fetus&lt;/a&gt;. Cmon.. it's duck not human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;One Day Old Chick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; (and other popular street foods)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why it's COOL: It's a popular &lt;a href="http://my_sarisari_store.typepad.com/my_sarisari_store/street_food/"&gt;street food&lt;/a&gt;. Tiny &amp;amp; crispy. You won't even know it's a baby chicken.&lt;br /&gt;Why it's UNCOOL: Please refer to Balut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pig (The Unused Parts/Organs)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssbud8nqUrI/AAAAAAAAABw/AZzpgdm8Kss/s1600-h/pig_anatomy_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 148px; height: 131px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssbud8nqUrI/AAAAAAAAABw/AZzpgdm8Kss/s200/pig_anatomy_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388256202451473074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why it's COOL: Nothing goes to waste. Name it, I've tried it. Heart? Rubbery. Liver? Tough. Intestines? Chewy! Tail? Tough. Ears? It's like al dente pasta. Blood? Bloody-licious.&lt;br /&gt;Why it's UNCOOL: Sorry, there are no LEFTOVERS. Keep your ziploc &amp;amp; brown bags at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dog Meat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssbyj0CEL2I/AAAAAAAAACY/1GIg42WpLqM/s1600-h/rdin839l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 129px; height: 146px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssbyj0CEL2I/AAAAAAAAACY/1GIg42WpLqM/s200/rdin839l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388260701272026978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Why it's COOL: It really doesn't taste like your &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1014775/"&gt;pet&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Why it's UNCOOL: A dog is a man's best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Durian&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Durian"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 142px; height: 166px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SsbyxnZKkOI/AAAAAAAAACg/GC5xXA4TsNE/s200/durian.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388260938397421794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why it's COOL: It's the KING of fruits.&lt;br /&gt;Why it's UNCOOL: It's fucking disgusting. WILL. NEVER. TRY. AGAIN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Salted Dried Fish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why it's COOL: It's fish therefore It's healthy.&lt;br /&gt;Why it's UNCOOL: It stinks when cooked. Seriously. Your neighbors will call 911.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salted Fermented Fish and/or Shrimp Paste&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why it's COOL: Synonymous to Anchovies. Not really. Kind of.&lt;br /&gt;Why it's UNCOOL: Should I describe how it's made? &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/"&gt;Google it&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssbxt8qY7iI/AAAAAAAAACQ/M4kpcpHkokk/s1600-h/kermit-the-frog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssbxt8qY7iI/AAAAAAAAACQ/M4kpcpHkokk/s200/kermit-the-frog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388259775875706402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Frog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why it's COOL: It tastes like chicken.&lt;br /&gt;Why it's UNCOOL: Think about eating Kermit The Frog or Kerokerokeroppi. Too cute to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Traditional Filipino cuisine is not as colorful, artistic &amp;amp; famous as French or Japanese. Like the Filipinos, it is a mixture of different cultures which makes it unique &amp;amp; irresistible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***Because I like Bizarre foods &amp;amp; I am exotic, Brian &amp;amp; I decided that if and when we decide to join the &lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/amazing_race/"&gt;Amazing Race&lt;/a&gt;, I will do all the eating.***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-1022745986544594322?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IM14uCiT0aqUfGkOoI5cpRtG6hE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IM14uCiT0aqUfGkOoI5cpRtG6hE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/T9myxJOZaFc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/1022745986544594322/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/bizarre-foods-with-mrs-ober-da-bakod.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/1022745986544594322?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/1022745986544594322?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/T9myxJOZaFc/bizarre-foods-with-mrs-ober-da-bakod.html" title="Bizarre Foods with Mrs. Ober Da Bakod" /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Ssbt_PbdTpI/AAAAAAAAABo/iQ76na0CPgg/s72-c/balut2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/10/bizarre-foods-with-mrs-ober-da-bakod.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUBQno_eSp7ImA9WxNXEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-247468169202831337</id><published>2009-09-27T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T22:04:13.441-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-27T22:04:13.441-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Denny's" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="accent" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Michigan" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="idioms" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tagalog" /><title>Say what??!?</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SsBDC-FTLlI/AAAAAAAAABA/RNHxNBOKWEk/s1600-h/accent+elimination.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SsBDC-FTLlI/AAAAAAAAABA/RNHxNBOKWEk/s200/accent+elimination.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386378872639139410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;First, let me say that English is my second language. Second, let me tell you how I learned to speak, write &amp;amp; understand this language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) I studied in a &lt;a href="http://www.slu.edu.ph/index.jsp"&gt;school&lt;/a&gt; where the language of instruction is English (except for 2 or 3 subjects).&lt;br /&gt;2.) I watched a lot of &lt;a href="http://www.makefive.com/categories/entertainment/television/best-80s-tv-shows"&gt;American TV shows&lt;/a&gt; growing up.&lt;br /&gt;3.) I read a lot of Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew &amp;amp; Sweet Valley High books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which now brings me to my third point, when I moved to the US in 2003, I found out there is more to the english language than meets the eye. The Americans use &lt;a href="http://www.learnenglishfeelgood.com/americanidioms/"&gt;idiomatic expressions&lt;/a&gt; and they pronounce/enunciate words differently. So imagine the confusion on my face when I first heard the words/phrases &lt;a href="http://www.englishclub.com/ref/esl/Idioms/H/hit_the_hay_hit_the_sack_635.htm"&gt;"hit the sack"&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/108200.html"&gt;"dark horse"&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://idioms.thefreedictionary.com/kissing+cousin"&gt;"kissing cousin"&lt;/a&gt;, etc. Fast forward to 2009, I am now married. My husband is white. He is from &lt;a href="http://www.grand-rapids.mi.us/"&gt;Michigan&lt;/a&gt;. He is smart. Except for a little spanish, he can only speak English. Living with him is full of "Huh?!" and "What???" moments. Of course, all referring to how I pronounce words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time I asked him to bring me to a Filipino store. He asked: "Do you know where it is?" To which I replied: "It's on Sunset, right by &lt;a href="http://www.dennys.com/en/"&gt;Denny's&lt;/a&gt;." I pronounced it as "Den-kneees". Then he asks again: "Where? What?" To which I replied again: "Den-knees!!! We went there before!!! Remember our waiter Nazareth?" At this point I was  already pissed &amp;amp; wondering if I married a deaf guy. Then he says: "Oh Denny's!" (and he laughs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can remember a hundred more of these type of conversations but this one stands out because it was pretty funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though he makes fun of my english (in a funny way), he also admits that my english is better than his &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tagalog_language"&gt;Tagalog.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-247468169202831337?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fQgu1JW80kbrDwdAT5FoTPKGyRw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fQgu1JW80kbrDwdAT5FoTPKGyRw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/ryMKuwWjjPI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/247468169202831337/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/09/say-what.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/247468169202831337?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/247468169202831337?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/ryMKuwWjjPI/say-what.html" title="Say what??!?" /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/SsBDC-FTLlI/AAAAAAAAABA/RNHxNBOKWEk/s72-c/accent+elimination.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/09/say-what.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcNSXc9cCp7ImA9WxNXEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2366410850172910115.post-8931645574990403759</id><published>2009-09-26T14:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T15:28:18.968-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-26T15:28:18.968-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tweets" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="social media" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="twitter" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="filipino" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="first blog" /><title>Not The First Time</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6RVqFSqHI/AAAAAAAAAA4/5C2vtAIlotU/s1600-h/social-media.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6RVqFSqHI/AAAAAAAAAA4/5C2vtAIlotU/s320/social-media.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385902005641455730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So... I'm blogging again. I used to have one but it did not prosper simply because I got too damn lazy! Then I got sucked into social networking then found Twitter and got sucked into this microblogging site. &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/eugem"&gt;Me&lt;/a&gt; (lazy blogger) +&lt;a href="http://www.twitter.com/"&gt; Twitter&lt;/a&gt; (140 char tweets) = Perfect Combination! So why blog when  you can tweet? WRONG. I now realize that there is so much information (like how I torture my husband at home &amp;amp; kick his ass in bowling) that I come across that I wanna share with unknown, possibly nonexistent audience. And I would NEED more that 140 characters. Thus, the birth of this blog. So, why "Mrs. Ober Da Bakod?" Check out the Mister's &lt;a href="http://mroberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/09/first-t.html"&gt;first blog&lt;/a&gt;. Yes! I forced (read: pointed a gun to his head) him to do his own blog too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2366410850172910115-8931645574990403759?l=mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8qSt2M7t5IlL4oUN6S1VSMTDSVo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8qSt2M7t5IlL4oUN6S1VSMTDSVo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8qSt2M7t5IlL4oUN6S1VSMTDSVo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8qSt2M7t5IlL4oUN6S1VSMTDSVo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~4/tzobPuSUc8M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/feeds/8931645574990403759/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/09/not-first-time.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/8931645574990403759?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2366410850172910115/posts/default/8931645574990403759?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MrsOberDaBakod/~3/tzobPuSUc8M/not-first-time.html" title="Not The First Time" /><author><name>Gem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18438583060163147547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6EKj1PZzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/owyx_mpLGRk/S220/ocfair+010.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIzBgsSjbjE/Sr6RVqFSqHI/AAAAAAAAAA4/5C2vtAIlotU/s72-c/social-media.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mrsoberdabakod.blogspot.com/2009/09/not-first-time.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

