People at the office are currently in a celebratory mood today, from birthdays to regularization pay hikes. We had home-grown Dan Eric's ice cream (straight from Las Pinas to your Selecta-saturated taste buds) and a pizza delivery.

I would understand that the yellow-tubbed Dan Eric's mango ice cream would taste like buttery mantecado, or its cookies n'cream mistaken for choco marble.

But a pizza with cherries?

Sidestepping 3M as the Picha Pie, Greenwich has announced its new offer, the Pizza Buena. Described in its website as the perfect pizza for the holidays, it consists of edam cheese, fiesta ham, pineapple bits and the loathed red knobs. You would mistake it for warm toasts with strawberry jam, perfect for an afternoon tea. Revolting.

It's heresy. It's a mortal sin. The Italian embassy should file a diplomatic protest. When the news reaches Rome, expect them to launch a missile attack on the Greenwich corporate HQ. This is ultimate kajologan.

I can't wait for a version with nata de coco.

I know, I know, Da King is dead and somebody's pissed off because she should have been President by now. And just last week and earlier, we were mourning the spoils of the storms. Logging may have been a hot issue then, what with all the Joyce Kilmer posts she put up to save our forests from thinning out but now our attention has shifted to the man who could have been Philippine president who was, three months earlier, the subject of a journalistic chugifest, online and offline. Now we see a barrage of eulogies, praising Poe in the field he has done best (there's even an RIP FPJ thread in Peyups.com!). With a googleplex lining up to see his remains, he still managed to put on a show even in the afterlife.

What a great pre-holidays showdown. The fiscal crisis flag was up, and then it was declared over, a thousand Filipinos died by greed, and another, this time, a cause celebre casualty. We're a nation of channel surfers with short attention spans.

Now repeat what I said.

Thank God I got the Christmas basket in one piece. The e-mail system is back to normal (which means, we still get the occasional red screen of death) and so is the security (Killer Guard with Killer Looks still there, waiting to pounce on the new employee). Shuttle service is commendable, reminding everybody to buckle up even if there are no seatbelts inside a back-up when the aging bus broke down. This after realizing that we have the highest mortality rate in terms of bringing people to and from the plant...and the thereafter (was in the news about two years ago and some years again before that).

And all this time not a single whimper was heard from the regular employees. I've realized that there is fear of reprisal if you scold the IT technician for responding ages to your bogged network, if you snob the security for not giving you factory access, or your manager for monkeying around. We get paid highly anyway, so what's the point of nagging?

It's the myth of Asian modesty and we could as well be a separate continent.

Accountant does it again. I was expecting my salary today since there was a buzz last month that our dates will shift from 15th and 30th to 10th and 25th. This after the fact that we got our dues paid last November 24th. Given that I have an obligation that must be settled by tomorrow this is a cause of much worry, plus the fact that I have already adjusted my budget (yes I now have one!) reflecting the change.

The mastermind from Finance is pregnant, I hope every curse will not reflect on the child.

N.B. They were talking about the 80's. I want something nearer.
N.B.B. Something tells me this is cheesy.

We had Lady Marmalade resurrected sans the 'fro wigs. Then some fashion guru thought large plastic earrings and teased bangs are shock factor, and sooner than you can say micro-mini, you thought you saw Tiffany at Glorietta just last Saturday, in a neon blue off-shoulder blouse. What the hell, Cory Aquino and Eat Bulaga are still around.

But what about the 90's, when geeky me was apprehensive about the Y2K bug and doomsday prophecies? When the mantra was Philippines 2000--or was it "Take It! Take It!"? When I had that goosebumpy feeling seeing a fireworks display for the first time at the Independence Day Centennial--and not at Enchanted Kingdom. Proud that at last, and getting jiggy with it, that we are not the Laughing Stock of Asia anymore since SM Megamall became the continent's largest mall, second only to Bloomingdale's at that time. And Miriam just can't stop this Eddie because he was too legit to quit the presidency.

We burned Singapore flags to sympathize with Flor Contemplacion and the poor acting of her kids who had the gall to participate in a movie about her. Kris Aquino was erstwhile massacre queen (isn't she after all these years?) while Carlo and Donna raked in the profits by inserting the "M" word in every film they made. Ruffa was filmed with a cut penis in a Bobbitt ripoff that castrated her acting career.

It's such too great a decade to be missed, when ST gave way to TF faster than Anna Maceda changed her name to Rosanna Roces. And if you said bomba, pene or Pepsi Paloma, you've been in Recto moviehouses too long. My peek at Sharon Stone's snatch launched her career where Glenn Close's bumpers took off and shrivelled. And while we're at it, Etta Mendez and Manoling Morato decided ten seconds of nipple exposure and three butt thrusts warrant an x-rating unfit for Filipino morality, boosting an SRO for Schindler's List. Even Belle Epoque's title wasn't spared--ignoramuses thought of an allusion to the female organ.

Jessica Zafra was furious upon finding out that Bruce Willis and Maria de Medeiros' bathroom scene in Pulp Fiction was not shown to the public. If a term existed at that time, she was the "it" girl which made Locsin's Today profitable and telling the public that a writer can really make a living out of writing. Just have a Palanca under your sleeve and admit that you plan to take over the world.

And wear black lipstick.

If 70's was chrome and 80's was neon, black was appropriate for 90's Philippines with long spells of blackouts that rechargeable lamps, generators and hand fans sold like hotcakes while we craved and cavorted for Ice Ice Baby. We'd use the mouth-movement-unsynched-with-the-dialogue (or dubbing for short) antic spawned by Marimar to pull it off at Christmas parties. Thalia pulled off and got an audience in Malacanang than an ordinary Filipino could. She was the precursor of irritating (insert prefix here)-novelas which started the battle of two giant stations and the demise of RPN9 and IBC13.

As irritating as the following songs which had a shelf life of three to five months in the airwaves: Heaven Knows, Bed of Roses and More Than Words. We raised the bar further by inserting a "hoowee!" in a remixed Achy Breaky Heart. April Boy Regino broke away from his brothers and the irritation factor was doubled, and so was the number of baseball caps thrown to the audience during a concert. Fortunately, Eraserheads saved the day using their ultraelectromagneticpop.

The heart of this entry could go on but you get the picture. The 90's is fascinating like any other decade and it's just a few years handy. We passed Y2K unscathed, and with Erap in office back then, we opened up our eyes and saw the sign.

Something tells me that to spend 3,000 pesos for a Christmas party in Subic while our ancestral house is submerged, knee-deep after the storm

Is obscene.

Napagtripan na naman ang scanner minsang umuulan.
I'm planning to print this billboard-size to grace our walls.