Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.

– Goethe


listening to: nothing

Shesha Santos Santos

Whenever asked what my real name is, I launch into a lifelong joke that my dad was either drunk or high on shabu when he declared,

“I dub thee Shesha.”

Nakanampooo… had I understood the repercussions of his action, I’d have given Daddy a frightful uppercut with my baby fist. He said, he wanted to name me Vida after one of my maternal aunts, Vina but the name Shesha just got stuck in his head when he saw something on telly about the Shah of Iran. Apparently, he had no knowledge that my name some countries means sea serpent or pipe. I better just stick to English-speaking countries then.

Haaaayyy… Why couldn’t he have named me something simple and easy to pronounce on first sight? Like Jennifer, May, or Paula? Arrrgh, but I’m still grateful that I wasn’t named Vida, because I’ve already met two Vidas I’d stab with glee at any given time.

Because my name seems like it’s taken from a twisted tongue twister (Shesha sells seashells by the seashore shalalalala…), the only people I permit to use it are the people who have known me for 11 years or more. Meaning, one must be a relative, a childhood friend, a gradeschool or highschool acquaintance. Why? Because I did not use Iya until I was in 1st year college. With the exeption of Donnie and Jap who relishes each opportunity when they can call me by my complete name. Shesha Santos Santos.

Not everyone I’ve known for more than a decade call me by my real name though.

To my Dad I’m Shasha or Inshang or Sweetheart (ewwwww).
To my Mom, I’m ‘Nak (duh, it’s short for anak).
To Tita Tida, I’m Shae (pronounced as shey).
To some of my cousins, I’m ‘Patid (short for kapatid, duh again).
To some of my aunts and uncles, I’m Pa’ngkin (short for pamangkin, double duh… duhduh).

Come college, I decided to use Iya just to make things a lil bit simpler for me. The history of Iya is this: my godbrother Aldwin when he was 3 or 4 had trouble saying my name maybe because his front teeth were missing then or he just had a case of childhood sh-deficiency (haha, imbento). Instead of Shesha, he called me E-A. I remember him running around their garden screaming Translation: “Ae E-a, Ae E-a, biyi ayo ay keem!!!”“Ate Shesha, Ate Shesha, bili tayo ice cream!”

Not everyone from college onwards call me by my preferred nickname as expected.

Some of my kabarkadas call me Eee (like Chie and Delight).
Some of them call me Iyapok (go figure).
Donnie calls me Bitch as an endearment, I call him back Slut. Whore for Jap. Vakla for Eunice.
I’m Besty to them otherwise.
I’m Ate, Ateng, or Darling to the friendly carinderia tindera in Boni.
I’m Atche to our QA Ems.
I was Baby to 2 of my exes, Hun to another 2.
I was Boss to one who didn’t quite make the cut but acted like he did.
I’m Iya Bebe to Nico, Ciara (at times) to Oryx. I call one of them John Lloyd.
I’m Babe (The Gallant Pig) to my friend, Homer.
I’m Iyaiyayow or Alphasensei to my blogfriends.
To my former pupils in preschool, I’m Teacher Iya.
To my former gradeschool, highschool, and college students, I’m Miss Iya.
Ma’am Iya to my applicants now that I’m a recruiter.
I’m Tita Ganda or Ninang Ganda to all my nieces, nephews, and godchildren who want to receive gifts from me on Christmas.
I’m Mrs. Justin Randall Timberlake to myself in my fantasies, hehe.

And you can start my calling me Ganda or Sexy if you need a favor, though satisfactory results are not guaranteed.

If you wanna start hating on me, you can call me whatever you like. Just be fair and let me throw some right back at you.

Oh yeah, before I forget, my dad would lie at times and say he named me after Sharon Cuneta and Sheryl Cruz. Like. And in those times, I’d wonder, “Oh Lord, ampon ba ako? Baket ang laki ng galet sa’kin ng Tatay ko?” No wonder I hate Mr. DJ and Mr. Dreamboy with a passion.

Uh-oh. Me thinks this post will pave way to new nicknames for me.

Oh well, bring it on. Sticks and stones can break my bones but names can never hurt me. Unless they’re carved in wood and thrown at me.



Thanks to Jewel for tagging me! 🙂


listening to: Rihanna – Breakin Dishes

Tides * 101808

I finally got to see Donnie and Colleen again last weekend after 5 loooooong months. Too bad Joel and Oryx didn’t get to go.

Donnie, Me, Yo, Jap, and Colleen in Tides, BF

Mga sabik sa hotdog at lamang loob

Gossip Girls: Blair Waldorf and Selena Van Der Woodsen :p

Gossip Girls: Aster Amoyo and Inday Badiday

“Carlene Aguilar and Drew Arellano”

(with EC) bago kami palayasin ng bouncer

I probably should just wait for my birthday to have my closest friends in complete attendance. Yeah, yeah that’s on top of my wishlist. 🙂


listening to: Rob’s unnamed chill house song

In The Bag

One of my pet peeves is people snooping the contents of my bag. Try me and watch as I cast you a stare that can pulverize a rock.

I don’t care if you’re my friend, my lover, or even John Lloyd. Don’t check the insides of my bag uninvited.

Not that I’m hiding anything of dire importance there. There’s nothing inside that can detonate and imperil the world. Nothing that can get me arrested. No mutilated body parts. No object of secret shame.

Really? you ask. Really! I answer

Hah, but even if that’s not the case, I’ll tell you what you can expect to see inside my bag. Maybe this will help YOU realize how boring my tote is. Maybe this will help you stop skulking.

In my bag, you will find…

I’m partial to spearmint,  but peppermint is easier to find. I either get Tic-tac or Cool Air. The stronger, the better. I’m done with my Snow Bear phase.

I like Chokies Orange and Mrs Goodman’s Soft Chunkee White chocolate chip cookies. These goodies prevent me from the horrors of gastritis attacks.

Oil-free oundation, non-comedogenic pressed powder, very red and subdued pink lipsticks, liquid eye liner, dark brown eyebrow pencil, waterproof mascara and rose-scented oil-blotting paper. Gone are the days when baby powder and lip gloss were sufficient to prettify me. 

I bought the big ones I’m using now from a tiangge, because I’m a self-confessed kuripot and I just use it more as a headband than shield for my eyes.

Four out of five of my hankies are Armando Caruso and Pierre Cardin, because my Dad has too many! As aforementioned, I am kuripot, so why bother buying more when I can just get loads for free?

I still use the phone provided by Eperformax. It’s a Nokia 55something. I never cared for snazzy mobile phones, since I am eternally afraid of losing it in public transpo.

I did say I’ll never buy me one and I didn’t! The Shuffle was given to me by a childhood sweetheart whose work involves Mac products.

A stick or two of Winston Lights. I’m trying to cut down my nicotine intake. So far, so good. My lighter is always yellow or black. For extreme reasons: easy finding or stealth.

This has my atm-mrt-health insurance cards, money, 2-3 hairclips. And occasionally, rubber. Rubberbands to put my hair up in a ponytail. 🙂

That’s pretty much it. Nothing spectacular. Told you, no mutilated body parts.

But if YOU continue skulking, there might be some soon enough. Yours.



listening to: Robbie Williams – Rock DJ


I have two choices: fight or forget.
You have two as well, regret or go after.
But there is no time left for us to choose.
As expected, it ended.
We ended.
Unexpectedly, so soon.


listening to: Mike Francis – Friends

Chakiks * 101008

Was supposed to just stay home but I couldn’t resist being with my friends on a Friday night. Plus, I wanted to see Queso perform live.

Effort finding Chakiks. Basta, sa likod ng Metrowalk. More than 2 years ago kasi huling punta ko dun. Circa Tupaz pa. Lol. Ayun, ayun! Katabi ng Razon’s! Another thing hard to resist is the 4-ingredient halohalo. Sarap!

Rockademics, was hosted by Kass and sponsored by Red Horse and the reformatted RJ station. Underground Music yada yada yada. Bands were Kastigo, Salamin, Marcus Highway, Skyepia, and then some.

Crushies for the night: Power, JM, and Eo. Oo na, cradle snatcher na. Hahaha.

Queso dude is hot (daw). Saw his buttcrack. Can’t say I got affected. But wow, that guy can do a backflip.


Iya alive Joko and Jeman isleypee * Skyepia and the strangled kitty

Little Aga Eo * sino diyan crushies ko?

Marcus and NFF Carlo * aftergig buco juice sa may Yuhoo

I saw your pwet, Ian.

I survived the night partially deaf but it was all worth it. 🙂


listening to: The Beatles – I Want You


These are the people who made me vewwy, vewwy happy last Saturday.

Cindy, Kassy, Carla, Jeman, Joko, Joel, Eunice, and Patchu!

Wala si Jap kasi consistent siya sa pagiging THE LATE JAP HERNANDEZ.


Can’t wait to go back to BF.  Conti’s and Tides and Jap’s. In that exact order.


listening to: Mariah Carey – Joy To The World

It’s time to praise God

…for the glory of His creation.



My world stopped right after lunch when I saw Victor Basa in Shangri La Plaza.

Oh boy. Whoaaaa booooy.


listening to: Madonna – Fever

Cat and Dog

Soul deep friendship.

That’s what I thought we’d have the moment we were introduced. We laughed at the corniest jokes, reminisced about our alma mater, analyzed profound life misgivings since day one. If you were a boy, I could have fallen in love with you. Since you’re every bit as girly as I am with the ability to handle some situations like a man, I was easily drawn to you. And I could bet my life and soul that it’s the same reason why you were drawn to me. For weeks and I was truly delighted to be by your side. Until the day came that you started ignoring me.

I didn’t know what made me feel more dejected, the times you conveniently forgot my existence or the times you treated me with coldness that could have frozen the earth’s core.

I wanted to ask you why you suddenly changed, but since I did not feel even the slightest guilt, I did not. Why take the first step when I could not think of doing you anything wrong? So much for that soul deep friendship. So much for friendship.

Yet I was not too proud to reach out to you in the pretense that nothing is wrong. For 22 days, I unfailingly said hi to you and asked how you’re doing. Twenty-two futile days. I grew tired hearing your replies, “Hi.” and “Fine.” It could have helped if you looked straight into my eyes when you said that instead of turning your back and walking away.

So I didn’t waste any more of my precious time to a fast-forgetting, insensitive bitch like you.

I taught myself to keep a straight face whenever I heard your boisterous laugh. Pushing aside the raw memory of how we used to laugh together. Vowing I’d cheerfully stab you in your sleep if I found out I was the object of your laughter.

You also taught me how to deal with you. I acted as if you’re not in the same area with me breathing the same air that I breathe.

In a way, I should be relieved that I could match your exterior indifference, but that’s just not me. I didn’t feel relieved. I felt more troubled for not having the courage to ask you what went wrong and why you plucked me out of your life.

I incessantly wondered if we could ever go laugh at earthworms again…

Or if we could ever debate again over which isaw in UP is better, Ilang or Kalayaan…

Or if we could ever share repugnance to what happened in the Holocaust…


listening to: Cindy Lauper – True Colors

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