Radioactive

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Around July, Rogue Magazine asked if I wanted to do a piece on the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant. Who doesn’t want to go snooping around the country’s only nuclear plant? And it’s been sleeping for half a century too. You know that’s right up my alley.

A copy of the article is floating around somewhere on the internet, but the Rogue website is down and due to be relaunched in October. It might resurface again. Pretty proud of that story. Central feature and all.

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The Far East

This post is late by around five months. Life, uhhh, finds a way. To get ahead of me, I mean. Anyway, where is it written that posts should be instantaneous? I’d like to think of these photos as pickled snaps.

Late last year, my best girl friend rings me up in the dead of night asking if she was going to book a trip to Japan because there was a promo on flights and time was of the essence. I vaguely remember answering in the affirmative. Woke up the next morning, thought I dreamt the whole thing up until she demanded I pay my half of the airfare and hotel reservation. Come March, we were in Japan.

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It was quite the adventure.

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Unreal

A friend reminded me yesterday that we are now entering the second month of the year. Late last year, we put our heads together to come up with a grand adventure for 2015. That adventure’s around the corner now, in a month and a half’s time, and it’s about to catch me unawares.

Anyway, last December, we went on a road trip and spent Christmas around some islands in Zambales.

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Cold Christmas

Did a couple of personality profiles for Rogue magazine in the last stretch of the year. The first was on TV personality Tessie Tomas for the November issue, second was on master musician Joey Ayala for the Jan-Feb issue. Pretty neat.

Spent the latter half of the Christmas season dodging friends and acquaintances, choosing to hermit out instead. Christmas eve found me in the heart of Ortigas, in one of em fancy hotels.

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The ubiquitous security guards were whipping out their phones and snapping photos of the fog-topped buildings. A pretty rare sight for this tropical country, I guess. This might have been the coldest Christmas in recent memory.

Walked around the eerily quiet business district in the last hours of December 24. Few stragglers were hurriedly closing up shops to grab the last bus or train to get home and be with their families. Even the hobos were mysteriously missing from their sleeping spots in parking lots. Hopefully, somewhere out of the cold.

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I bought a bottle of expensive wine from the mall and cheap whole roasted chicken near the bus terminal before heading back to the hotel. The men manning the chicken shop were getting drunk on gin because they were spending their Christmas working the coals instead of with their families. I bought them a bag of hard boiled eggs from a nearby store and they wished me a good one.

Back in the fancy hotel, I sat on the carpeted floor in front of the window overlooking the flickering city lights and ate the greasy chicken with my hands. I would check out the next day and spend Christmas on the road with my family, to get lost in various islands until after the New Year rolled around.

Got a text right before Christmas though. I ignored most holiday greetings, but this one in particular caught me off guard–

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