Last Sunday, December 5, we welcomed a new FozBrat to the realm of FozBratness. My cousin gave birth to a rosy, dimpled baby girl we shall now call Zoe Anne Therese. And she did it without an ounce of anesthesia! I'm not worthy, I'm not worthy! If it was me, I would've told the doctor to stick all the anesthesia humanely possible. Her husband was the one who cut the umbilical cord. Chips would've passed out by then.

On the drive back from a business trip to Enchanted Kingdom, we 3 girls fight it out with 3 goons. It was skinny me, a petite boss, and a model-ish copywriter. Versus a group that looked like the 3 stooges crossed with Fernando Poe Jr.'s mga bata. One of the stooges opened the door of his parked car right smack into my right passenger door (I was trying to park beside the stoogemobile). We won the argument. They probably didn't expect to encounter three amazonas who take the meaning of girl power by heart.

An AE in our team creates her own version of lost conversations. Let's call her Grasya. She writes an email to our client (let's call her Jen). She opens the email with a "Dear Grasya..." and we surmise that she's either probably having an identity crisis or incredibly narcistic. Later that day, she prepares a check to pay off her credit card. She writes on the Payable to line: Grasya (surname). The bank, utterly confused, had to call her to clear up the matter. There's something very wrong. Isa syang disgrasya.

I am on the hunt for a compact, affordable and good enough digital camera. Torn between the Casio Z50 or Z55 and the Canon SD300. Olympus and Nikon look bulky. Sony is overpriced. And I can't use my SD cards with it. Arg. I don't know. I may end up not buying one. Ahem, Christmas gift. Ahem.