We got screwed over by PLDT this week.
The PLDT repair man came over a couple of days ago, saying the telephone lines here in Tierra Pureza were damaged. For some strange reason or the other, though, only our phone line wasn’t working, but everyone else in our entire subdivision’s was fine and dandy.
So, anyway, they proceeded to cut both our phone lines and, consequently, our DSL.
Now, I couldn’t really give a flying fuck about having no landline, but hello, no Internet for a week – especially during hell week where most of our online submissions were due and most of my research had to be done (through my good friends Google and Wikipedia) – was absolute hell.
For one, we missed our thesis submission because I didn’t have Internet at home and Elsie was busy. This was at around 9 PM so SC was closing and/or populated with boys playing DOTA and/or watching porn.
When I went to Flapjacks Technohub – which usually had the most reliable wifi in this area – their network was down.
When I went to Starbucks, it was down too.
I had to finally go all the way to Kourtyard in Katipunan, park illegally in front of some dodgy flower shop and buy god-awful coffee for a ridiculously unreasonable price. But they had good wifi. At that point in time, I would have sold my soul for any kind of wifi.
Anyway, for the past couple of days, I found a temporary solution: steal my neighbors’ wifi. This has led to some strange strategies, like waving my laptop in the air in search for that weak signal. Or standing in front of my window, with one hand supporting my laptop and the other, trying in vain to type a decent email. Or using my laptop in bed, backwards, with the computer resting precariously on the headboard because for some weird reason, it had strong signal there and only there.
Grabe. Poverty talaga.
At ang pinakamalaking insulto of all, when I switched on my wifi connector today, I found out that my neighbor changed his wireless network’s name from “Home” to “LEECHERSNOTALLOWED.”
Tangina niya talaga, feeling ba niya nag-e-enjoy ako sa pagnakaw ng wifi niya? Eh ang bagal-bagal ng Internet connection niya eh! Pero shet, as in, para talagang pinagdiinan niya talaga kung gaano ka kaderder ang pagka-grepa ko that day.
If it wasn’t so humiliating, I would actually maybe find it funny.
Finally, though, the PLDT dude came around again to fix our phone lines and our Internet. Akala ko talaga tapos na ang pagdurusa ko.
BUT NO. Bawal ang tanga, pero mali ang in-assign niya sa aming number! Our landline is 932… but he put in 954…
I know right, how could you even mix those numbers up? I mean, sure, they both start with a “9” but, seriously, HOW?
This also means that, as of right now, all the calls to that 954… number are being coursed to our house. You have no idea how many calls we had to turn down, saying, “No, wala po talagang Patrick dito.” Kung sino nalang talaga yung Patrick na yun, sorry nalang siya kung nag-aabang siya ng tawag.
At minura pa kami ng isang persistent caller dahil tama naman daw talaga ang number na dina-dial niya pero lagi daw kami ang nakukuha niya. Sorry naman, diba. Sige nga, i-try mo i-explain ang context ng sitwasyon naming. So, naturally, binabaan ko nalang siya. Bahala siyang maghanap kay Patrick.
Huhu, ang hirap talaga. “Ang hirap-hirap” (Curtis, 2008).
At bawal sabihin sa’king, “Kayanin mo, para kayanin ko din” (Rosales, 2008), dahil putangina, hindi nga kinaya ni Celso ang digmaan diba? (SPOILER ALERT) Hindi ba pagtakbo ni Feliza sa loob ng simbahan ng Baler noong ending, all happy and hopeful, ay chinugi na pala ng di oras si Celso ng isang walang-career na artistang si Jao Mapa? So, ang tieback sa pagkahaba-habang entry na ito, therefore, ay love does not conquer all.
The PLDT repair man came over a couple of days ago, saying the telephone lines here in Tierra Pureza were damaged. For some strange reason or the other, though, only our phone line wasn’t working, but everyone else in our entire subdivision’s was fine and dandy.
So, anyway, they proceeded to cut both our phone lines and, consequently, our DSL.
Now, I couldn’t really give a flying fuck about having no landline, but hello, no Internet for a week – especially during hell week where most of our online submissions were due and most of my research had to be done (through my good friends Google and Wikipedia) – was absolute hell.
For one, we missed our thesis submission because I didn’t have Internet at home and Elsie was busy. This was at around 9 PM so SC was closing and/or populated with boys playing DOTA and/or watching porn.
When I went to Flapjacks Technohub – which usually had the most reliable wifi in this area – their network was down.
When I went to Starbucks, it was down too.
I had to finally go all the way to Kourtyard in Katipunan, park illegally in front of some dodgy flower shop and buy god-awful coffee for a ridiculously unreasonable price. But they had good wifi. At that point in time, I would have sold my soul for any kind of wifi.
Anyway, for the past couple of days, I found a temporary solution: steal my neighbors’ wifi. This has led to some strange strategies, like waving my laptop in the air in search for that weak signal. Or standing in front of my window, with one hand supporting my laptop and the other, trying in vain to type a decent email. Or using my laptop in bed, backwards, with the computer resting precariously on the headboard because for some weird reason, it had strong signal there and only there.
Grabe. Poverty talaga.
At ang pinakamalaking insulto of all, when I switched on my wifi connector today, I found out that my neighbor changed his wireless network’s name from “Home” to “LEECHERSNOTALLOWED.”
Tangina niya talaga, feeling ba niya nag-e-enjoy ako sa pagnakaw ng wifi niya? Eh ang bagal-bagal ng Internet connection niya eh! Pero shet, as in, para talagang pinagdiinan niya talaga kung gaano ka kaderder ang pagka-grepa ko that day.
If it wasn’t so humiliating, I would actually maybe find it funny.
Finally, though, the PLDT dude came around again to fix our phone lines and our Internet. Akala ko talaga tapos na ang pagdurusa ko.
BUT NO. Bawal ang tanga, pero mali ang in-assign niya sa aming number! Our landline is 932… but he put in 954…
I know right, how could you even mix those numbers up? I mean, sure, they both start with a “9” but, seriously, HOW?
This also means that, as of right now, all the calls to that 954… number are being coursed to our house. You have no idea how many calls we had to turn down, saying, “No, wala po talagang Patrick dito.” Kung sino nalang talaga yung Patrick na yun, sorry nalang siya kung nag-aabang siya ng tawag.
At minura pa kami ng isang persistent caller dahil tama naman daw talaga ang number na dina-dial niya pero lagi daw kami ang nakukuha niya. Sorry naman, diba. Sige nga, i-try mo i-explain ang context ng sitwasyon naming. So, naturally, binabaan ko nalang siya. Bahala siyang maghanap kay Patrick.
Huhu, ang hirap talaga. “Ang hirap-hirap” (Curtis, 2008).
At bawal sabihin sa’king, “Kayanin mo, para kayanin ko din” (Rosales, 2008), dahil putangina, hindi nga kinaya ni Celso ang digmaan diba? (SPOILER ALERT) Hindi ba pagtakbo ni Feliza sa loob ng simbahan ng Baler noong ending, all happy and hopeful, ay chinugi na pala ng di oras si Celso ng isang walang-career na artistang si Jao Mapa? So, ang tieback sa pagkahaba-habang entry na ito, therefore, ay love does not conquer all.
Current Mood: 
bored
boredCurrent Music: "All Summer Long" by Kid Rock
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