ux·o·ri·ous [uhk-sawr-ee-uhs, –sohr-, uhg-zawr-, -zohr-]–adjective doting upon, foolishly fond of, or affectionately submissive toward one’s wife—from Dictionary.com
NO one can blame me for being uxorious. After all, besides bringing me to the US, she has also brought me to Europe, on top of the fact that she is one pretty woman who agreed to marry me. Just goes to show you I have a good taste in women. Unfortunately, what does that make her?
Shown from top to bottom is C. pausing for a bite while seeing La Vie En Rose, the Edith Piaf film bio on the KLM console; grabbing some shut-eye at Milan’s Malpensa Airport; and waiting for the connecting train to Bellagio at the Lecco station where we were detained for the good part of an hour. More pictures available at my flickr.com account, access to which is restricted to friends.
NEARLY thirteen years after hibernating, self-proclaimed, self-important, and self-indulgent pseudo-journalist Umberto Eklat is back with a vengeance (or at least something vaguely similar to it). Despite his absence, Umberto Eklat, a few months ago, was able to secure column space every Monday at Commuter Express, a free newspaper distributed to passengers of the Light Rail Transit system, the Philippines’ second-worse train system, next to the astoundingly inefficient Metro Rail Transit.
But enough about trains.
Besides punishing the public with his purple prose in print, Eklat—whose last known essay was hastily-written and published by the Philippine Collegian in 1996—also has a blog featuring his columns under the title, Chewing the Fat
SINCE a recent article in Time magazine convinced me that facebook is sort of different from Friendster, I checked the site and well got into the program, as the Americans say. Check out my profile here, not of course that I’m forcing anyone to do so.