It was my last day of tenure at the office yesterday. Not many were present due to their respective holiday vacation nonetheless, it was a good day. Yelen and I went to the museum at her insistence. Granted, we've postponed the trip long enough when the museum is just a block away. The museum is not as grand as the National Museum but it archives some interesting materials from old military uniforms, swords, guns and canyons. Half of the second floor is mostly dedicated to Fidel V. Ramos, ex-President of the country and ex-Chief of Staff, with his memoirs and items all throughout his life as an officer.
Anyway, back to my division, I'm going to miss them. Not the entire department because in general, it sucks bigtime and the gossipmongers are awfully desperate in projecting their adolescent frustrations on younger employees. However, my division rocks bigtime, with the chief already on deliberation for a promotion. That mean he might be a one-star general sometime this new year. Sir Glenn is on leave so we weren't able to cajole him into a last minute treat, after all, we made the IPMS project work. Our office doesn't have complete facilities but we were happy then. I was happy then, but not happy enough to endure unprofessional co-workers outside of my division and the unrelenting hell of payroll madness.
I met up with Beth afterwards because she's been a true friend all these years, she bought my SM gift cheques. I've no use for them, after all. We had dinner at Krokodile Grill and had seafood ala-pinakbet and tuna sisig which both were on par in snuffing out our hunger. We accompanied Bevs at Conti's to buy her cakes (Mango Bravo!)--her consuelo de bobo before her execution day: today. Good luck Bevz; she has yet to text me regarding her parents' verdict which as she had said last night, she might have lost her jaw already. Beth and I dropped by Adidas in Greenbelt at my insistence. The outlet is already selling World Cup jersey particularly that of Brazil, France, Spain, Germany and Russia. I want to buy a Spain shirt but jeezy creezy, the price is overwhelming. I could probably purchase it with both eyes tightly shut but I'd do that if the shirts have corresponding players' names and their respective numbers on it. If they don't then I might as well buy a general South Africa 2010 shirt to suppress my lifelong frustration in football.
At Cors' initiative, we went to the newly opened Gelatissimo to have a taste of what all the socio-elites are going gaga about. The Italian ice creams are obviously unique, Beth had the sour-sweet Forrest Berries while I enjoyed the traditional sweet Tiramisu flavour. It was then I came to a scandalous epiphany with Beth that if the Italians' quotidian ice cream can sell like a small dose of paradise then Filipinos can offer their own version of ice cream: the sorbetes. Just as what Beth had thought, all European things are haute couture. They cannot live without the delicacies and intricacies in their daily lives. Therefore, if they can have a taste of simple yet still undeniably delicious food, they would sell bigtime. Or not? After all, Europeans do not have a tendency to be too pretentious with imported things but I'm digressing. Back to the ice cream. There's a Lime flavoured ice cream which fondly reminded me of Richard's eccentric taste in them. I might as well treat you, Chard to a scoop if you'll treat me to dinner preferably if we can schedule a date for Where the Wild Things Are or another movie.
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