Dear Diary,
I'm leaving on a jet plane, june 5 I'll be back again, oh blog, i love to gooooo....
Yes, am off to not-so-sunny Montreal tomorrow. Not yet packed, not quite organized, and anxious about avoiding certain people who I can't but really wish I could. Work! Pain in le derriere. Gotta practice my french!
Reminder to self: look for digital camera! get battery for said camera! delete pictures on memory disk!
Warm regards,
Moi
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Subs
Last Sunday, Mother's Day to some, a day to waste for others, a bunch of thirtysomethings got together to be friends. We knew we had but a few hours of fleeting pleasure to be together and we didn't want to do anything serious. Frivolity was on the menu.
It's been sometime since we had had a Sunday lunch, our previous weekly binge fests had transformed into a once a month or impromptu text fest. That day, after fighting the winds of Caloy, we had the slightly damp look coming in from the rain. M, G, A and I were hanging out in bedroom, dillydallying over where to have lunch. We played a rerun of some oldy but goody tv classic, and spent more time procrastinating over what we wanted to eat. One hour later, we dragged ourselves back out into the greying light, and drove to Little Tokyo near Makati Cinema Square.
We had originally agreed to go to Kikofuji, where I had had a good lunch last Holy Week with J and J. But we probably should have called ahead, as Kikofuji was packed! Gills overflowing. The parking situation was our yellow light that we probably should have found someplace else. But we tried, and even had the support of a friend doing lunch there (thanks J!). To no avail though, so we had to go back out into the haze and find another outlet for our growing craving for Japanese food. Location wise, we were not at a loss for choice. If we had been on the cheap, there was Shinjuku or the grocery cafe around the corner. And next door were several similarly placed Japanese pleasure domes. So we went down the row and ended up in one of the other places, Seisoku (however, don't quote me, I must review the photos to get the name right). It was very empty, but unlike other empty restaurants, there wasn't a sense of despair and insecurity about its lack of custom. We also saw that they had a specialty - hand pulled noodles. I'm a sucker for artisinal hoohah.
With D joining us, we had enough stomachs to eat a cow. And the cow's four stomach's although I'm not that keen on internal organs. We ordered a range of dishes: grilled salmon, two kinds of noodle soup (using their touted hand pulled noodles), tonkatsu, a massive onigiri that reminded us of a cannon ball, agedashi tofu, mixed tempura, a boatful of sushi and sashimi, and lots of tea. We had a pleasant and relatively helpful waitress who did her best with our constant questions, and made sure we never ran out of anything. Kudos to Len. Food quality was a 7.5 to 8, and service was a high 8. Plus having the place to ourselves was a plus factor. We could enjoy the moment without dealing with other people's noise. If I had any gripes it would be that the serving of edamame left me wanting more. But it was enough to raise our expectations and not dampen our tastebuds. We didn't try any of the bathrooms so the review is incomplete. And in retrospect, while I didn't eat the tonkatsu, I was pleased to see that the pork fillet wasn't beaten thin as a sheet of paper and heavily coated with batter. There was a substantial piece of meat, thick enough and juicy enough. For the celebratory spectacle of the day, definitely the sparkler that came with the monster onigiri took the cake.
And after eating our fill, we all had dessert on our minds. Off we went to Razon's on Jupiter for sweet, custardy goodness. It was also gill-packed, but this time we stuck it out and got a table after 10 minutes of waiting. Much salacious talk ensued, perhaps all that food got our tongues wagging.
3 hours later, we were happy, fat, and ready to face our mothers.
It's been sometime since we had had a Sunday lunch, our previous weekly binge fests had transformed into a once a month or impromptu text fest. That day, after fighting the winds of Caloy, we had the slightly damp look coming in from the rain. M, G, A and I were hanging out in bedroom, dillydallying over where to have lunch. We played a rerun of some oldy but goody tv classic, and spent more time procrastinating over what we wanted to eat. One hour later, we dragged ourselves back out into the greying light, and drove to Little Tokyo near Makati Cinema Square.
We had originally agreed to go to Kikofuji, where I had had a good lunch last Holy Week with J and J. But we probably should have called ahead, as Kikofuji was packed! Gills overflowing. The parking situation was our yellow light that we probably should have found someplace else. But we tried, and even had the support of a friend doing lunch there (thanks J!). To no avail though, so we had to go back out into the haze and find another outlet for our growing craving for Japanese food. Location wise, we were not at a loss for choice. If we had been on the cheap, there was Shinjuku or the grocery cafe around the corner. And next door were several similarly placed Japanese pleasure domes. So we went down the row and ended up in one of the other places, Seisoku (however, don't quote me, I must review the photos to get the name right). It was very empty, but unlike other empty restaurants, there wasn't a sense of despair and insecurity about its lack of custom. We also saw that they had a specialty - hand pulled noodles. I'm a sucker for artisinal hoohah.
With D joining us, we had enough stomachs to eat a cow. And the cow's four stomach's although I'm not that keen on internal organs. We ordered a range of dishes: grilled salmon, two kinds of noodle soup (using their touted hand pulled noodles), tonkatsu, a massive onigiri that reminded us of a cannon ball, agedashi tofu, mixed tempura, a boatful of sushi and sashimi, and lots of tea. We had a pleasant and relatively helpful waitress who did her best with our constant questions, and made sure we never ran out of anything. Kudos to Len. Food quality was a 7.5 to 8, and service was a high 8. Plus having the place to ourselves was a plus factor. We could enjoy the moment without dealing with other people's noise. If I had any gripes it would be that the serving of edamame left me wanting more. But it was enough to raise our expectations and not dampen our tastebuds. We didn't try any of the bathrooms so the review is incomplete. And in retrospect, while I didn't eat the tonkatsu, I was pleased to see that the pork fillet wasn't beaten thin as a sheet of paper and heavily coated with batter. There was a substantial piece of meat, thick enough and juicy enough. For the celebratory spectacle of the day, definitely the sparkler that came with the monster onigiri took the cake.
And after eating our fill, we all had dessert on our minds. Off we went to Razon's on Jupiter for sweet, custardy goodness. It was also gill-packed, but this time we stuck it out and got a table after 10 minutes of waiting. Much salacious talk ensued, perhaps all that food got our tongues wagging.
3 hours later, we were happy, fat, and ready to face our mothers.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Facing the end of something that was never real
How do you say goodbye? How do you end an affair? What words do you string together to make it easier for both parties involved? Does one put it baldly? Bluntly? Be cruel and cutting? Look down one's nose (hopefully with the right kind of curved beak suited for looking down on. A flat nose is just not apropos.) with a raised eyebrow? Point a finger at the door and say "begone"?
Then what do you do when the person you plan to cut dead writes you something that makes your knees feel like jelly? A simple sentence that stops you from ending it all, making you rethink whether it is time to cut it short. And then they tell you that your presence in their life is the only thing that makes them happy?
Taken with a modicum of salt, the idea of being a source of happiness is not enough to end the finality of the former decision. But it does delay the stay of execution. Maybe one more bite....
Then what do you do when the person you plan to cut dead writes you something that makes your knees feel like jelly? A simple sentence that stops you from ending it all, making you rethink whether it is time to cut it short. And then they tell you that your presence in their life is the only thing that makes them happy?
Taken with a modicum of salt, the idea of being a source of happiness is not enough to end the finality of the former decision. But it does delay the stay of execution. Maybe one more bite....
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Losing my cockles
It was a beautiful morning, the sun slowly coming out of it's dark womb, the shadows of the mango tree hedging back, and the coolness gives way to a hint of warmth. I get up without incident, head downstairs to water the plants and enjoy the quiet of the morning.
By 6 I'm out of the door, fully prepared for the rest of the day. I get to the gym before the half hour, happy to avoid all the traffic and mess that will be building up in a bit. But that's where it hits me, it should have been so clear from the start that something was amiss. The tote bag was rather lite, but I didn't think anything of it until I was walking through the doors of the gym. I had forgotten my shoes at home! And I was wearing a skirt today. Gosh dang it and all the toned down swear words I could think of, it didn't quite look professional to be wearing trainers the entire day, plus it wasn't even my puma yoga shoes, but my ratty grey sneakers.
The only comfort I get from this is that the color of my trainers doesn't clash with my red and grey outfit. And as a friend told me this morning, I seem to be working it.
Another cloudy afternoon.. yesterday there was a bit of a rainstorm, and it looks to be the same. What a weird summer.
I had a semi-decent weekend, had to work so it wasn't quite as pleasant as all that. Plus my ego was damaged from a comment that someone texted to me. If it was from someone who mattered to me it would have been easier to take the criticism and it would have forced me to truly look at change. As it came from a relative stranger the major hurt comes from having someone make a judgement call before meeting me. Or maybe I had given the person too much of a leash to use against me. In any case, the hurt stayed on through the weekend. By Tuesday, a comforting comment by someone I shared the confidence with helped the healing process along and I was on my way to feeling normal again.
By 6 I'm out of the door, fully prepared for the rest of the day. I get to the gym before the half hour, happy to avoid all the traffic and mess that will be building up in a bit. But that's where it hits me, it should have been so clear from the start that something was amiss. The tote bag was rather lite, but I didn't think anything of it until I was walking through the doors of the gym. I had forgotten my shoes at home! And I was wearing a skirt today. Gosh dang it and all the toned down swear words I could think of, it didn't quite look professional to be wearing trainers the entire day, plus it wasn't even my puma yoga shoes, but my ratty grey sneakers.
The only comfort I get from this is that the color of my trainers doesn't clash with my red and grey outfit. And as a friend told me this morning, I seem to be working it.
Another cloudy afternoon.. yesterday there was a bit of a rainstorm, and it looks to be the same. What a weird summer.
I had a semi-decent weekend, had to work so it wasn't quite as pleasant as all that. Plus my ego was damaged from a comment that someone texted to me. If it was from someone who mattered to me it would have been easier to take the criticism and it would have forced me to truly look at change. As it came from a relative stranger the major hurt comes from having someone make a judgement call before meeting me. Or maybe I had given the person too much of a leash to use against me. In any case, the hurt stayed on through the weekend. By Tuesday, a comforting comment by someone I shared the confidence with helped the healing process along and I was on my way to feeling normal again.
Monday, May 01, 2006
I am a puddle
Heat, this heat. Killing me. Brain cells dying. gah
I thought Puerto Princessa heat was just heat further south, therefore understandable. But the heat in Manila is just as bad, if not worse for being a few meters north and because I was on board a boat for a week and there was a breeze and I was not as hot as this foreffing'ssake.
Back to so-called civilization, hah. But I'm just suffering and feel the need to be bitter. Bitter about being back where the diving is at least 2 to 3 hours away by car, bitter that I missed out on seeing the hammerheads near the Malayan wreck and I'll need another year or two to go back to see those durn hammerheads. Post-dive blues. Woe is me.
On the upside a good friend is now married. Hope she married the right guy though. He should learn to smile.
And Friday, sweet Friday is not that far away.
Why does Citibank Visa think I need a credit increase? Aren't they making enough money off of me? Do they really need to tempt me with more debt? Yoiks.
I thought Puerto Princessa heat was just heat further south, therefore understandable. But the heat in Manila is just as bad, if not worse for being a few meters north and because I was on board a boat for a week and there was a breeze and I was not as hot as this foreffing'ssake.
Back to so-called civilization, hah. But I'm just suffering and feel the need to be bitter. Bitter about being back where the diving is at least 2 to 3 hours away by car, bitter that I missed out on seeing the hammerheads near the Malayan wreck and I'll need another year or two to go back to see those durn hammerheads. Post-dive blues. Woe is me.
On the upside a good friend is now married. Hope she married the right guy though. He should learn to smile.
And Friday, sweet Friday is not that far away.
Why does Citibank Visa think I need a credit increase? Aren't they making enough money off of me? Do they really need to tempt me with more debt? Yoiks.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
A note before I go
Puerto Princessa, April 22, 2006. Weather - sunny, hot, too hot to stay outside.
We've arrived, waiting for the ship to cast off later tonight. A briefing at 6 will establish rules, regs, blah blah.
Am in room B4, Oceanic Explorer. I don't like the room much, prefer the rooms on the other side of the ship. This room is tiny, smells of gasoline (bought baking soda to absorb the smells), and I saw a roach. Bought Raid to kill roaches.
Doing email and blogging, too hot to go outside. May stop by Chowking for a halohalo before returning to the ship. Looking forward to the dives, although can't be certain that I can do all 19 dives. Will aim for a minimum of 4 dives a day though.
Received a heartfelt and passionate plea from S to meet in June. We'll see.
Won't have email for the next 5 days. Thank goodness. No cell coverage either. Must rely on my own resources and sleep. This will be a restful trip.
We've arrived, waiting for the ship to cast off later tonight. A briefing at 6 will establish rules, regs, blah blah.
Am in room B4, Oceanic Explorer. I don't like the room much, prefer the rooms on the other side of the ship. This room is tiny, smells of gasoline (bought baking soda to absorb the smells), and I saw a roach. Bought Raid to kill roaches.
Doing email and blogging, too hot to go outside. May stop by Chowking for a halohalo before returning to the ship. Looking forward to the dives, although can't be certain that I can do all 19 dives. Will aim for a minimum of 4 dives a day though.
Received a heartfelt and passionate plea from S to meet in June. We'll see.
Won't have email for the next 5 days. Thank goodness. No cell coverage either. Must rely on my own resources and sleep. This will be a restful trip.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Will the second time be as charming?
I look at diving as one of my primary hobbies. I don't have too many vices, don't spend too much money on clothes and looking pretty. Diving is not cheap, and much of my savings gets siphoned off by paying for a trip or two. The equipment is an investment. I bought my suit, fins and other gear at the beginning and take care of them. I haven't had to replace any of them, although my short suit is languishing in the bathroom. I should sell it and use the money to pay for a trip!
One of the top ten dive sites in the country is Tubbataha. Better writers and photographers than I have written about the site/s, which is actually a set of dive sites located in the middle of the Sulu Sea. Among local and other international divers, Tubbataha is an ecological paradise, hard to reach, only dive-able for 4 months of the year. It has the blessings of many international environmental organizations, and part of the sustainable development there is covered by the WWF (not the wrestling silly-heads, but the group with the panda logo). Personally, my favorite part of the dives there is the presence of sharks and turtles.
The first Tubbataha trip I went on was in 2004. We had a small group of divers, many of them I met on the boat. We had a good divemaster who had amazing underwater vision, and could distinguish the smallest creatures and sight the big fish hundred of meters away. Our dives were punctuated by excitement over whale sharks, mantas, and lots of sharks and turtles. Each dive was unique, and it was a trip I will treasure for as long as my memory stays sharp. I can still visualize my first brush with the whale sharks, the first coming so close I could distinguish the pattern of her dappled coat and her soft eyes. The feeding manta that played by the boat for over half an hour, somersaulting till we grew dizzy watching it play. The school of barracudas parting like the Red Sea for the Israelites, closing back into their formation when we had passed. So many wonderful memories of that trip.
Tomorrow, I leave for another Tubbataha trip. Some of the fellow divers who were there in 2004 will be back. But most of the group are new to me. It will be a bigger group too. Less space to move around. I'll have a roommate this time. Won't be so easy to make a mess.
But whether this trip proves to be as memorable as 2004, I'm just happy to be going out of town. I need time away from the problems at the office, some new complications in my life, and family. I want to be where the most important part of the day is how many sharks were visible and preventing decompression sickness.
And should things go screwy, I am glad that a few of my important resolutions in life worked out this year. Good luck to me.
One of the top ten dive sites in the country is Tubbataha. Better writers and photographers than I have written about the site/s, which is actually a set of dive sites located in the middle of the Sulu Sea. Among local and other international divers, Tubbataha is an ecological paradise, hard to reach, only dive-able for 4 months of the year. It has the blessings of many international environmental organizations, and part of the sustainable development there is covered by the WWF (not the wrestling silly-heads, but the group with the panda logo). Personally, my favorite part of the dives there is the presence of sharks and turtles.
The first Tubbataha trip I went on was in 2004. We had a small group of divers, many of them I met on the boat. We had a good divemaster who had amazing underwater vision, and could distinguish the smallest creatures and sight the big fish hundred of meters away. Our dives were punctuated by excitement over whale sharks, mantas, and lots of sharks and turtles. Each dive was unique, and it was a trip I will treasure for as long as my memory stays sharp. I can still visualize my first brush with the whale sharks, the first coming so close I could distinguish the pattern of her dappled coat and her soft eyes. The feeding manta that played by the boat for over half an hour, somersaulting till we grew dizzy watching it play. The school of barracudas parting like the Red Sea for the Israelites, closing back into their formation when we had passed. So many wonderful memories of that trip.
Tomorrow, I leave for another Tubbataha trip. Some of the fellow divers who were there in 2004 will be back. But most of the group are new to me. It will be a bigger group too. Less space to move around. I'll have a roommate this time. Won't be so easy to make a mess.
But whether this trip proves to be as memorable as 2004, I'm just happy to be going out of town. I need time away from the problems at the office, some new complications in my life, and family. I want to be where the most important part of the day is how many sharks were visible and preventing decompression sickness.
And should things go screwy, I am glad that a few of my important resolutions in life worked out this year. Good luck to me.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Holy popcorn batman!
I'm addicted, I admit it. They have made something I really like and would be happy to eat everyday. It would probably kill me if I did eat it everyday though. Holy Kettle Corn. Sweet but not caramel laden. Salty but not like eating a salt lick. Popped to perfection. Few, if any, of those annoying unpopped kernels that you get if you buy cinema popcorn.
I blame Carole, my friend who brought over three bags of the stuff to our group party in February. It was her contribution, but we had so much food that it was left unopened. She told me that it would stay fresh for a few more days. So in the post-party ennui, I opened a bag, and my stomach was hooked.
It doesn't help that there are outlets so near my office. I can go to the left of the building and there's a stand. To the right, there's another.
I buy the P60 bag, and eat it all in nearly a sitting. Sometimes two sittings. Then I lose my appetite for anything else. Would it be different if I were walking around and eating it?
It's supposedly healthy. But nothing that good can be a healthy snack. There's got to be a catch. Probably the only way it is a healthy option is if you eat three kernels.
I blame Carole, my friend who brought over three bags of the stuff to our group party in February. It was her contribution, but we had so much food that it was left unopened. She told me that it would stay fresh for a few more days. So in the post-party ennui, I opened a bag, and my stomach was hooked.
It doesn't help that there are outlets so near my office. I can go to the left of the building and there's a stand. To the right, there's another.
I buy the P60 bag, and eat it all in nearly a sitting. Sometimes two sittings. Then I lose my appetite for anything else. Would it be different if I were walking around and eating it?
It's supposedly healthy. But nothing that good can be a healthy snack. There's got to be a catch. Probably the only way it is a healthy option is if you eat three kernels.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Returning to old favorites with new faces
How many meals can you inhale over a weekend before it feels like any more calories would lead to a trip to the hospital emergency room? Not that eating is a bad thing, and some of my favorite bloggers fulfill my fantasy of a non-stop feast with some of their posts. But this last weekend does raise the bar on how much I ingested, and it was good food speaking to me, not some lowlife fast-food quest.
J, who's a restauranteur (although very low key and a somewhat reluctant one), started off the weekend by inviting me over for some of the cheese he swiped at a meeting. He said that it would be a simple meal, but I knew that his definition of simple and mine are polar opposites. He didn't disappoint. We had smyrna figs, walnuts, semolina cracked bread, olives and a good red wine to go with our cheese. Then he brought out the big guns, a chocolate fondue, made with 70% dark chocolate, along with a platter of fruit. Another friend followed bearing a trip of gelato samplers. We ate and ate, heading home happy at heart around 2 in the morning. I suspect my hangover wasn't too noticeable at the presentation I organized the next morning, but I could be wrong.
Saturday night, I had organized on behalf of a visiting friend of a friend, a dinner at Galileo Enoteca. After having had the pleasure of dining several times with friends including the famous Marketman lunch last November, GE has become a good place to drag visitors. It's so hidden and part of the fun is looking for it (although by now, I could get there blindfolded). Then they start to say how nice it is, and how they'd never figure it was there. Squeezing 10 when we originally reserved for 8 was also interesting. As usual, the reservation people there do seem to have a problem keeping details straight. I've had lost reservations, and last Saturday wasn't any different. They only had us down for 4, not 8 as I had requested. Conversation never slowed, must have been a good night for everyone, eating all the cheese and meat, pasta, and devouring every speck and lick of the dessert.
Sunday we had a day trip to Sonya's garden in Tagaytay, so I saved myself for a hearty and healthy lunch there, before spending a lazy afternoon being massaged. The evening found us on the balcony of Antonio's fully satisfied with the marvelous food, wine and ambience. It made us think of how to incorporate the place into a party next year. Ideas, ideas. Of course, when we were back at Sonya's, we may have amended the idea by considering having the event there instead, sharing a cottage with 20 of our favorite people.
T and L had not visited the other Antonio's franchise, so we stopped for drinks at Breakfast at Antonio to show the view to the visitors. A bit too much sugar detracted from the overall enjoyment of the view, the sun, the shakes. Was it ironic then that we should go off in search of the Ilog Maria Bee Farm, to buy honey and all the lovely products they make from honey and bee pollen? This was the third time we had planned to visit, so it was truly charmed. No one else was there and a moment of panic set in when we saw the Mondays closed sign. However, the store was very much open and we bought a good lot of things to try including the beeswax wood balm that I've been meaning to get. The idea of waxing my new sampaloc cutting blocks is making me feel very happy right now.
The last stop before returning to Manila was to try Manos Taverna, newly reviewed by Marketman and a few other bloggers. With few other customers out on the town on a Monday afternoon, we had to try as many of the dishes and found our favorites in the tsaziki and moussaka. The baklava was not as deadly as we had expected, but flavorful and nuanced with the clove and sprinkling of calamansi. It was perfect with my muddy and dark coffee.
We really couldn't eat anymore when we got back to Manila. We sat for hours talking, playing with the cats and just sliding towards laziness. What a lovely Monday!
J, who's a restauranteur (although very low key and a somewhat reluctant one), started off the weekend by inviting me over for some of the cheese he swiped at a meeting. He said that it would be a simple meal, but I knew that his definition of simple and mine are polar opposites. He didn't disappoint. We had smyrna figs, walnuts, semolina cracked bread, olives and a good red wine to go with our cheese. Then he brought out the big guns, a chocolate fondue, made with 70% dark chocolate, along with a platter of fruit. Another friend followed bearing a trip of gelato samplers. We ate and ate, heading home happy at heart around 2 in the morning. I suspect my hangover wasn't too noticeable at the presentation I organized the next morning, but I could be wrong.
Saturday night, I had organized on behalf of a visiting friend of a friend, a dinner at Galileo Enoteca. After having had the pleasure of dining several times with friends including the famous Marketman lunch last November, GE has become a good place to drag visitors. It's so hidden and part of the fun is looking for it (although by now, I could get there blindfolded). Then they start to say how nice it is, and how they'd never figure it was there. Squeezing 10 when we originally reserved for 8 was also interesting. As usual, the reservation people there do seem to have a problem keeping details straight. I've had lost reservations, and last Saturday wasn't any different. They only had us down for 4, not 8 as I had requested. Conversation never slowed, must have been a good night for everyone, eating all the cheese and meat, pasta, and devouring every speck and lick of the dessert.
Sunday we had a day trip to Sonya's garden in Tagaytay, so I saved myself for a hearty and healthy lunch there, before spending a lazy afternoon being massaged. The evening found us on the balcony of Antonio's fully satisfied with the marvelous food, wine and ambience. It made us think of how to incorporate the place into a party next year. Ideas, ideas. Of course, when we were back at Sonya's, we may have amended the idea by considering having the event there instead, sharing a cottage with 20 of our favorite people.
T and L had not visited the other Antonio's franchise, so we stopped for drinks at Breakfast at Antonio to show the view to the visitors. A bit too much sugar detracted from the overall enjoyment of the view, the sun, the shakes. Was it ironic then that we should go off in search of the Ilog Maria Bee Farm, to buy honey and all the lovely products they make from honey and bee pollen? This was the third time we had planned to visit, so it was truly charmed. No one else was there and a moment of panic set in when we saw the Mondays closed sign. However, the store was very much open and we bought a good lot of things to try including the beeswax wood balm that I've been meaning to get. The idea of waxing my new sampaloc cutting blocks is making me feel very happy right now.
The last stop before returning to Manila was to try Manos Taverna, newly reviewed by Marketman and a few other bloggers. With few other customers out on the town on a Monday afternoon, we had to try as many of the dishes and found our favorites in the tsaziki and moussaka. The baklava was not as deadly as we had expected, but flavorful and nuanced with the clove and sprinkling of calamansi. It was perfect with my muddy and dark coffee.
We really couldn't eat anymore when we got back to Manila. We sat for hours talking, playing with the cats and just sliding towards laziness. What a lovely Monday!
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Roach motels
Word of warning: if you hate cockroaches like I do, this post may be offensive to the eyes. Avert now!
I stayed overnight at a local condotel in Makati. I won't go into reasons for why I needed to stay there when I have a perfectly decent apartment. However, the day before I had been canvassing the condotel offerings in Makati and found that the Prince Plaza 2 was the cheapest of the lot, and they had a room available. I also know of the Prince Plaza through it's co-ownership by the ASB group which runs the BSA Suites and Asian Mansion. I can't say that all the ASB group hotels follow the same hygiene protocol, so this "review" only affects the Prince Plaza.
The rooms are sizeable, with enough room for three people to bunk, a small kitchenette and a refrigerator. Compared to the Somerset suites, the Prince Plaza is definitely downscale. The ceiling is starting to peel, the beddings look clean, but worn, and the bathroom could have used a new lick of caulking.
However, what truly grossed me out was the invasion of roaches. If you'd ever seen the movie "Joe's Apartment" you might get a sense of the number I saw of the tiny creepy crawlies I spied with my little eye when I turned on the bathroom light. Eeek. Double Eeek. I called Housekeeping and told them to bring the biggest can of Baygon. They fobbed me off. But as I didn't have time to look for another place to stay (and my visa had been charged already), I headed off to my appointment. Later that night, I had to use the bathroom. Holding my bladder in, I peeked into the bathroom, and saw a tiny speck moving around the toilet bowl. No, can't do this. But I need to pee!!!! Let's say it was roaches - 0, me - unimaginable carnage of bodies. But I really really had to pee.
I could have lasted the night had I not seen a few more of the specks out on the "dining table" whereupon sat some cups and saucers for a possible coffee break. Eck, no thanks, the specks were wandering higgledy-piggledy over the said tableware. Waiting in a corner for the sun to come out (ie not getting a wink of sleep) I left in time to get to the gym for a long hot shower (not before I shook all my things as vigorously as I could imagine, ready to stomp on any moving objects that landed on the floor).
If you got to this point and aren't feeling that sense of ants in your pants (or on your arm and back), then please, avoid PP2. Not unless you have fantasies of battling roach hordes.
Instead for the same price, book yourself a room at the new Hyatt in Manila. Probably not roach infested yet and, look, nice bay views!
I stayed overnight at a local condotel in Makati. I won't go into reasons for why I needed to stay there when I have a perfectly decent apartment. However, the day before I had been canvassing the condotel offerings in Makati and found that the Prince Plaza 2 was the cheapest of the lot, and they had a room available. I also know of the Prince Plaza through it's co-ownership by the ASB group which runs the BSA Suites and Asian Mansion. I can't say that all the ASB group hotels follow the same hygiene protocol, so this "review" only affects the Prince Plaza.
The rooms are sizeable, with enough room for three people to bunk, a small kitchenette and a refrigerator. Compared to the Somerset suites, the Prince Plaza is definitely downscale. The ceiling is starting to peel, the beddings look clean, but worn, and the bathroom could have used a new lick of caulking.
However, what truly grossed me out was the invasion of roaches. If you'd ever seen the movie "Joe's Apartment" you might get a sense of the number I saw of the tiny creepy crawlies I spied with my little eye when I turned on the bathroom light. Eeek. Double Eeek. I called Housekeeping and told them to bring the biggest can of Baygon. They fobbed me off. But as I didn't have time to look for another place to stay (and my visa had been charged already), I headed off to my appointment. Later that night, I had to use the bathroom. Holding my bladder in, I peeked into the bathroom, and saw a tiny speck moving around the toilet bowl. No, can't do this. But I need to pee!!!! Let's say it was roaches - 0, me - unimaginable carnage of bodies. But I really really had to pee.
I could have lasted the night had I not seen a few more of the specks out on the "dining table" whereupon sat some cups and saucers for a possible coffee break. Eck, no thanks, the specks were wandering higgledy-piggledy over the said tableware. Waiting in a corner for the sun to come out (ie not getting a wink of sleep) I left in time to get to the gym for a long hot shower (not before I shook all my things as vigorously as I could imagine, ready to stomp on any moving objects that landed on the floor).
If you got to this point and aren't feeling that sense of ants in your pants (or on your arm and back), then please, avoid PP2. Not unless you have fantasies of battling roach hordes.
Instead for the same price, book yourself a room at the new Hyatt in Manila. Probably not roach infested yet and, look, nice bay views!
Friday, March 31, 2006
Reunions
Over the last few weeks, I've had some pleasant reunions with people I haven't seen in some time. One friend Mark, left Manila last year, and came back on a business trip last month. It was lovely to catch up and we met his partner (Mark is truly in love, and glows to prove it) over dessert. Then a former schoolmate got in touch and we have had a few dinners again. Last weekend he joined our group on a day dive in Anilao. Probably the nicest reunited moment was seeing a former Alliance Francaise classmate of mine, strangely enough she hasn't moved and I just lost her contact numbers. So tomorrow we are having breakfast in Salcedo Market. I'm looking forward to hearing all her news, plus I hope she still bakes cookies!
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Foresaking penguins for the sake of music and travel
A good friend lent me her DVD of March of the Penguins, a movie I've been dying to watch since it was released last year. I'd prefer to see it in an IMAX theatre, but a free viewing is better than nothing. She mentioned that the extra features were also worth a look-see. Last night was my planned Penguins night.
After getting home and having a quick ham and arugula sandwich for dinner, I turned the telly on, and got hooked on American Idol. Last night's show had the remaining contestants singing songs from the 1950's, and some of the songs are favorites of mine. But few of the contestants sang the songs with much panache. The one performance I fully enjoyed was Chris, the bald rocker dude, who sang I Walk the Line. It was the only rendition I fully enjoyed. Ace's whiny over the pop schtick ruined In the Still of the Night. I texted friends to ask why Ace is still around and all they could tell me is that he's got a nice smile.
Luckily the night's viewing improved when I found myself in the middle of the 4th episode of the Amazing Race. I'm glad the format has returned to the pairs, as I'm sure so many fellow race fans have mentioned. The hippies are a joy to watch, and although they get on my nerves, I'm glad Fran and Barry are still in it. I hope the nerds pick up the pace a little. I'm just annoyed that the jocks keep winning or staying at the top of the pack, and am disturbed by Lake/Michelle's improved standing. Haven't these people learned after 8 seasons that being ugly Americans doesn't help win the race? The mix of personalities does make the show more fun to watch, and you can't help but root for those you hate to mess up.
By the time I caught the first half of the race on another channel then the next episode of CSI followed by some decorating tips from Nate on Oprah, my penguin plans were long gone. Will it be tonight?
After getting home and having a quick ham and arugula sandwich for dinner, I turned the telly on, and got hooked on American Idol. Last night's show had the remaining contestants singing songs from the 1950's, and some of the songs are favorites of mine. But few of the contestants sang the songs with much panache. The one performance I fully enjoyed was Chris, the bald rocker dude, who sang I Walk the Line. It was the only rendition I fully enjoyed. Ace's whiny over the pop schtick ruined In the Still of the Night. I texted friends to ask why Ace is still around and all they could tell me is that he's got a nice smile.
Luckily the night's viewing improved when I found myself in the middle of the 4th episode of the Amazing Race. I'm glad the format has returned to the pairs, as I'm sure so many fellow race fans have mentioned. The hippies are a joy to watch, and although they get on my nerves, I'm glad Fran and Barry are still in it. I hope the nerds pick up the pace a little. I'm just annoyed that the jocks keep winning or staying at the top of the pack, and am disturbed by Lake/Michelle's improved standing. Haven't these people learned after 8 seasons that being ugly Americans doesn't help win the race? The mix of personalities does make the show more fun to watch, and you can't help but root for those you hate to mess up.
By the time I caught the first half of the race on another channel then the next episode of CSI followed by some decorating tips from Nate on Oprah, my penguin plans were long gone. Will it be tonight?
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Thai tasting, a long night's slog
After weeks of trying to get a band of eaters together, I finally made it out to Som's on Algier St, near Rockwell. Recommended by a number of bloggers/divers/friends, I met up with two friends for a long night out of al fresco dining (complimentary diesel fumes).
Fine dining, Som's is not. It's a makeshift canteen the owners opened up in the front of their home. The neighborhood is residential, back of a long row of restaurants facing Rockwell Drive/Kalayaan Extension. According to one of my fellow eaters, the place has been around for years, as the owner/chef is a transplanted Thai chef, formerly of Sukothai restaurant, married to a Filipina (I wonder how many restaurants are set up in that same pattern: foreigner married to Pinay, opens up restaurant? I imagine a lot in this country.). Som's is the name of their child, but we weren't sure if we met the namesake that night.
We arrived before 7:30 and we were one of three tables occupying the raised sidewalk cum eating terrace. By 10 p.m., there were additional tables set up on the street and a good rate of takeout orders filled. On a Monday night too.
I had been told to order the curries and the ice tea. We also tried the tom yum, the phad thai, and one of the fried rice with shrimp and basil. Other dishes on the menu included a good number of noodle soups, chicken in oyster sauce, spring rolls, and fried tofu. The most expensive dish was P70, so you can eat a lot here and not spend a great deal.
Of our choices, the curries were a hit, I enjoyed both the green and the red, although I'll follow the tip to ask for it extra spicy next time. The Shrimp fried rice with basil was an odd combination of whole shrimp with basil in an onion slathered sauce with a scoop of white rice (not fried at all) and a fried egg on top. And the phad thai used egg noodles or some other rice noodle, not the flat noodles usually used for the dish. It was also strangely orange with not that much in terms of tofu/legumes/shrimp or peanuts. Not one of the better dishes.
I'd like to see more green vegetable choices, but knowing an inexpensive and tasty curry is available makes Soms a good place to return to. Note to self: wear pants or bring Off Lotion next time.
Fine dining, Som's is not. It's a makeshift canteen the owners opened up in the front of their home. The neighborhood is residential, back of a long row of restaurants facing Rockwell Drive/Kalayaan Extension. According to one of my fellow eaters, the place has been around for years, as the owner/chef is a transplanted Thai chef, formerly of Sukothai restaurant, married to a Filipina (I wonder how many restaurants are set up in that same pattern: foreigner married to Pinay, opens up restaurant? I imagine a lot in this country.). Som's is the name of their child, but we weren't sure if we met the namesake that night.
We arrived before 7:30 and we were one of three tables occupying the raised sidewalk cum eating terrace. By 10 p.m., there were additional tables set up on the street and a good rate of takeout orders filled. On a Monday night too.
I had been told to order the curries and the ice tea. We also tried the tom yum, the phad thai, and one of the fried rice with shrimp and basil. Other dishes on the menu included a good number of noodle soups, chicken in oyster sauce, spring rolls, and fried tofu. The most expensive dish was P70, so you can eat a lot here and not spend a great deal.
Of our choices, the curries were a hit, I enjoyed both the green and the red, although I'll follow the tip to ask for it extra spicy next time. The Shrimp fried rice with basil was an odd combination of whole shrimp with basil in an onion slathered sauce with a scoop of white rice (not fried at all) and a fried egg on top. And the phad thai used egg noodles or some other rice noodle, not the flat noodles usually used for the dish. It was also strangely orange with not that much in terms of tofu/legumes/shrimp or peanuts. Not one of the better dishes.
I'd like to see more green vegetable choices, but knowing an inexpensive and tasty curry is available makes Soms a good place to return to. Note to self: wear pants or bring Off Lotion next time.
Monday, March 20, 2006
A book from the bin, 'bout baboons
National Bookstore in Cubao has a floor dedicated to their overflowing inventory. You scan through the bins and shelves and wonder why they decided to buy too many copies of How to Be A Cattle Rancher or Culture Shock for Dummies. Do they learn from their mistakes or figure that when it's time to cull these gems from their outlets, they'll find a special audience from those bookworms who visit Cubao.
I've gone there a few times, usually with a good friend who has a "To Be Read" list in the thousands of books. She combines the best of a bookaholic and a shopaholic. We get her updated tbr list every quarter to help her get through the list, as they tend to overtake her life a bit.
On my last visit, I came across a book called A Primate's Memoirs, by Robert Sapolsky. It lay on my bookshelf for a few weeks before I finally got around to reading it and within a few pages it has become a major part of my favorite reads of all time. I can see myself reading, laughing, and crying over Dr. Sapolsky's stories for years to come.
He writes of the nearly 20 years he spent in Kenya documenting the stress hormones of baboons. He shares his favorite stories about the baboons, detailing characteristics, quirks, social and anti-social behaviors. Every other chapter or so, he also shares his life with the tribes like the Masai, travelling around Eastern Africa, and his personal relationships with people who impact his life over those learning years. If Bill Bryson were a bio-psychologist and learned how to dart primates, then he'd be Dr. Sapolsky.
Laura Hillenbrand made me fall in love with race horses, especially Seabiscuit; now Robert Sapolsky has enamored my senses with his tales of living out in Africa with baboons. Books that get under your skin like that deserve to be on any favorite books list.
I've gone there a few times, usually with a good friend who has a "To Be Read" list in the thousands of books. She combines the best of a bookaholic and a shopaholic. We get her updated tbr list every quarter to help her get through the list, as they tend to overtake her life a bit.
On my last visit, I came across a book called A Primate's Memoirs, by Robert Sapolsky. It lay on my bookshelf for a few weeks before I finally got around to reading it and within a few pages it has become a major part of my favorite reads of all time. I can see myself reading, laughing, and crying over Dr. Sapolsky's stories for years to come.
He writes of the nearly 20 years he spent in Kenya documenting the stress hormones of baboons. He shares his favorite stories about the baboons, detailing characteristics, quirks, social and anti-social behaviors. Every other chapter or so, he also shares his life with the tribes like the Masai, travelling around Eastern Africa, and his personal relationships with people who impact his life over those learning years. If Bill Bryson were a bio-psychologist and learned how to dart primates, then he'd be Dr. Sapolsky.
Laura Hillenbrand made me fall in love with race horses, especially Seabiscuit; now Robert Sapolsky has enamored my senses with his tales of living out in Africa with baboons. Books that get under your skin like that deserve to be on any favorite books list.
How to clean
Living solo is a lovely thing. Peace and quiet, no one to bug you about leaving dirty dishes in the sink, leaving personal messes all over the place, vacuuming ala Melanie Griffith in Working Girl (can't do it in stilettos though, the pain!). Or not cleaning for weeks if one can stand it.
However, I can't stand it for more than one week. Usually, my allergies (dust) tell me that it's time to get the broom, the duster, and the vacuum ready. Cleaning day is here!
Over the few months, I've picked up a few personal favorites in the cleaning arena. I like using Domex for general kitchen and bathroom surfaces. I like the multi-purpose nature of it all, grime, soot, muddy foottracks, mold, all flora and some er fauna that shouldn't be found in a modern day kitchen and bathroom, all attended to by one trusty bottle. Even when the floor isn't that dirty, but I just need to feel like the house is germ free, I get a bucket of water and cleanser ready for a 30 minute death to germy attack.
I also found a cheaper version to Swiffer, same idea with the flat duster with attacheable dust clothes. The dust clothes only cost P70 a pack from the NBC tent bazaar, unlike the more expensive version in supermarkets and hardware stores. As I stocked up last year, I'm not sure if the supplier still sells them for P70 a pack, so I guess I'd better plan to pay more for my next supply. I LOVE dustwipes, they pick up anything and the dust doesn't go flying around, especially up my nose where I start sneezing and wheezing. I use them to wipe the screens, window sills, doorknobs, all surfaces where dust will settle. I just wish Manila wasn't so dusty. I don't remember dusting this much in some parts of China.
And for all the other particles that just won't be dusted or washed out, I turn to the vacuum. Rather, my housemate's vacuum. Lucky for me, my housemate is rarely at home so I can feel like I'm living alone, but paying half what I'd be spending if I were living alone. His vacuum has lots of attachments and bits, which I rarely use. Give me the basic option which picks up all the nonsense that gets into the crevices and nooks. Even on a non-carpet floor, it's good to have a vacuum to suck out all the dustbunnies that grow in the dark.
A recent article I found in Real Simple magazine spoke about cleaning strategies like setting a timer so you feel motivated. My motivation's up my nose, when I can't breathe without sneezing, then I know it's time to turn into Charlady Warrior Princess.
However, I can't stand it for more than one week. Usually, my allergies (dust) tell me that it's time to get the broom, the duster, and the vacuum ready. Cleaning day is here!
Over the few months, I've picked up a few personal favorites in the cleaning arena. I like using Domex for general kitchen and bathroom surfaces. I like the multi-purpose nature of it all, grime, soot, muddy foottracks, mold, all flora and some er fauna that shouldn't be found in a modern day kitchen and bathroom, all attended to by one trusty bottle. Even when the floor isn't that dirty, but I just need to feel like the house is germ free, I get a bucket of water and cleanser ready for a 30 minute death to germy attack.
I also found a cheaper version to Swiffer, same idea with the flat duster with attacheable dust clothes. The dust clothes only cost P70 a pack from the NBC tent bazaar, unlike the more expensive version in supermarkets and hardware stores. As I stocked up last year, I'm not sure if the supplier still sells them for P70 a pack, so I guess I'd better plan to pay more for my next supply. I LOVE dustwipes, they pick up anything and the dust doesn't go flying around, especially up my nose where I start sneezing and wheezing. I use them to wipe the screens, window sills, doorknobs, all surfaces where dust will settle. I just wish Manila wasn't so dusty. I don't remember dusting this much in some parts of China.
And for all the other particles that just won't be dusted or washed out, I turn to the vacuum. Rather, my housemate's vacuum. Lucky for me, my housemate is rarely at home so I can feel like I'm living alone, but paying half what I'd be spending if I were living alone. His vacuum has lots of attachments and bits, which I rarely use. Give me the basic option which picks up all the nonsense that gets into the crevices and nooks. Even on a non-carpet floor, it's good to have a vacuum to suck out all the dustbunnies that grow in the dark.
A recent article I found in Real Simple magazine spoke about cleaning strategies like setting a timer so you feel motivated. My motivation's up my nose, when I can't breathe without sneezing, then I know it's time to turn into Charlady Warrior Princess.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Johari Window
Arena(known to self and others) intelligent | Blind Spot(known only to others) adaptable, bold, dependable, independent, knowledgeable, mature, self-assertive, sensible |
Façade(known only to self) idealistic, quiet, shy, tense | Unknown(known to nobody) able, accepting, brave, calm, caring, cheerful, clever, complex, confident, dignified, energetic, extroverted, friendly, giving, happy, helpful, ingenious, introverted, kind, logical, loving, modest, nervous, observant, organised, patient, powerful, proud, reflective, relaxed, religious, responsive, searching, self-conscious, sentimental, silly, spontaneous, sympathetic, trustworthy, warm, wise, witty |
Dominant Traits
100% of people think that Watergirl is knowledgeable
100% of people think that Watergirl is mature
All Percentages
able (0%) accepting (0%) adaptable (50%) bold (50%) brave (0%) calm (0%) caring (0%) cheerful (0%) clever (0%) complex (0%) confident (0%) dependable (50%) dignified (0%) energetic (0%) extroverted (0%) friendly (0%) giving (0%) happy (0%) helpful (0%) idealistic (0%) independent (50%) ingenious (0%) intelligent (50%) introverted (0%) kind (0%) knowledgeable (100%) logical (0%) loving (0%) mature (100%) modest (0%) nervous (0%) observant (0%) organised (0%) patient (0%) powerful (0%) proud (0%) quiet (0%) reflective (0%) relaxed (0%) religious (0%) responsive (0%) searching (0%) self-assertive (50%) self-conscious (0%) sensible (50%) sentimental (0%) shy (0%) silly (0%) spontaneous (0%) sympathetic (0%) tense (0%) trustworthy (0%) warm (0%) wise (0%) witty (0%)
Created by the Interactive Johari Window on 15.3.2006, using data from x respondents.
You can make your own Johari Window, or view watergirl's full data.
You can make your own Johari Window, or view watergirl's full data.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Student visa orientation in April and May
The press releases will be out soon, but I thought I'd scoop myself on this. My office will hold a US student visa orientation on April 1 and May 6, both Saturday mornings, for all and sundry. Speakers will be from the US Embassy's visa section, and we'll have homemade brownies and coffee.
Email me for details.
Email me for details.
Office bonding for the month
At the start of the year, our organization's fearless leader decided that we would hold a monthly gift exchange, very much like an extended Secret Santa. We then came up with a list of the gift themes per month. As March heralds St. Patrick's Day, we chose green, but with a twist. I am now wracking my brain to figure out a gift, P50 or more, that is green + long! I've thought of scarves, ties, vegetables, but honestly, what I'd like is to find a gift I've stored away for recycling to pop up out of the blue, perfectly suited for the occasion.
I am a gift recycler. I dare anyone to say they are not. It started in 2000 when I began unloading all my 30 years of accumulated junk, selling off books, clothes, trivial things that take up space. Each year, when I receive gifts for birthdays and other events, I think of who I can pass it on to, as it's not going to be something I'd keep. I gave up a Palmpilot at one point. And I think the only thing I wouldn't give up is a free airplane ticket or something involved in travelling. Sometimes I feel like a middleman, sorting through gifts and deciding where one bit will end up, who it would suit, and making sure the gift doesn't go back to the same person (probably the hardest part. Always, ALWAYS, double check the first few pages of a book for inscriptions and love notes.).
I will spend the day checking for a requisite greenish/longish gift, then if all else fails, head to the stores for some leeks.
I am a gift recycler. I dare anyone to say they are not. It started in 2000 when I began unloading all my 30 years of accumulated junk, selling off books, clothes, trivial things that take up space. Each year, when I receive gifts for birthdays and other events, I think of who I can pass it on to, as it's not going to be something I'd keep. I gave up a Palmpilot at one point. And I think the only thing I wouldn't give up is a free airplane ticket or something involved in travelling. Sometimes I feel like a middleman, sorting through gifts and deciding where one bit will end up, who it would suit, and making sure the gift doesn't go back to the same person (probably the hardest part. Always, ALWAYS, double check the first few pages of a book for inscriptions and love notes.).
I will spend the day checking for a requisite greenish/longish gift, then if all else fails, head to the stores for some leeks.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Browniesicecreambrowniesicecream ad nauseum plus musings
Did you ever have a day when you get sick of the smell of sugar? When you feel it's coming out of your pores, oozing out of every orifice?
That happens when you spend the day baking, and then eating what you've baked. In my case, it was making too many batches of brownies, testing the recipe until I found one I really liked, then doing another set for friends, and eating it with more chocolate and ice cream. Honestly, I was a walking sugar bomb by the day's end.
I won't scoop a fellow blogger on something she put me on track to last Saturday, but I got to try a new local ice cream maker and it was fab! Check out DessertFirst blog in the next few weeks to read all about the ice cream sensation.
Afterwards, I'll be on a no-sugar zone for a few weeks. Maybe a no carb zone. Oy.
Review: had dinner with friends at Behrouz over at Metrowalk. Prices were reasonable and the kebabs were decent. However, the owners need to update the restaurant innards (to use another blogger's favorite term). The walls need a new lick of paint, the seat upholstery needs to be overhauled, and the waitresses look slatternly. Even the menus look like they need to be dusted off for reprints. For the amount of food we had, and the price, we shouldn't have had to deal with the canteen atmosphere.
Am half-happy, half-bummed with the Oscars this year. I'm relieved that Ang Lee won the Best Director award. He should have won it for Crouching Tiger! I'm sad that Brokeback Mountain didn't win the best picture award, however, it was heavily hinted at the pre-show that something was in the works. It wasn't as big a surprise, I was far more taken aback when Roman Polanski won Best Director a few years ago.
That happens when you spend the day baking, and then eating what you've baked. In my case, it was making too many batches of brownies, testing the recipe until I found one I really liked, then doing another set for friends, and eating it with more chocolate and ice cream. Honestly, I was a walking sugar bomb by the day's end.
I won't scoop a fellow blogger on something she put me on track to last Saturday, but I got to try a new local ice cream maker and it was fab! Check out DessertFirst blog in the next few weeks to read all about the ice cream sensation.
Afterwards, I'll be on a no-sugar zone for a few weeks. Maybe a no carb zone. Oy.
Review: had dinner with friends at Behrouz over at Metrowalk. Prices were reasonable and the kebabs were decent. However, the owners need to update the restaurant innards (to use another blogger's favorite term). The walls need a new lick of paint, the seat upholstery needs to be overhauled, and the waitresses look slatternly. Even the menus look like they need to be dusted off for reprints. For the amount of food we had, and the price, we shouldn't have had to deal with the canteen atmosphere.
Am half-happy, half-bummed with the Oscars this year. I'm relieved that Ang Lee won the Best Director award. He should have won it for Crouching Tiger! I'm sad that Brokeback Mountain didn't win the best picture award, however, it was heavily hinted at the pre-show that something was in the works. It wasn't as big a surprise, I was far more taken aback when Roman Polanski won Best Director a few years ago.
Friday, March 03, 2006
Re-lent
Growing up, there were certain things I had to do during Lent: go to mass on Ash Wednesday to get my forehead marked with charcoal, give up something I liked (usually sweets or chocolates or food that made me happy) for 40 days, buy the palm to wave at the priest on Palm Sunday, trek around Manila to get our 14 churches pilgrimage on Maundy Thursday, try to sleep in on Good Friday because there wasn't anything good on tv anyway unless my mother strapped us in front of the tv to listen to the 7 Last Words, then look forward to ice cream cake on Easter Sunday. Year after year, that was my commitment to the faith, and it gave my life some form of structure and discipline which, I must admit, it sadly lacks these days.
Now, I am older, not necessarily wiser (more sarcastic though), and I have cast off religious convictions. No more Sunday masses, no more tithes, no more communion services. I don't find myself torn if I don't confess my sins to some anonymous male voice who tells me to say the Holy Mary 100 times for wanting to lobotomize my older brother when I grow up. The penalties for modern life don't seem too guilt-ridden these days, and I can breathe freely, except when on Edsa.
There will be as much sugar, meat and such over the next few weeks as I want or need. And when it gets too hot to even think about walking around churches, I will suffer inside with the aircondition on, reading about baboons (an amazing book I just picked up, reviews to come).
Faith is not about the structure and the frou-frou of palms, incense and atonement, it's about something that is planted and sown inside you by your parents, teachers, religious leaders, and the community. My seed withered away and I have not replanted it.
Now, I am older, not necessarily wiser (more sarcastic though), and I have cast off religious convictions. No more Sunday masses, no more tithes, no more communion services. I don't find myself torn if I don't confess my sins to some anonymous male voice who tells me to say the Holy Mary 100 times for wanting to lobotomize my older brother when I grow up. The penalties for modern life don't seem too guilt-ridden these days, and I can breathe freely, except when on Edsa.
There will be as much sugar, meat and such over the next few weeks as I want or need. And when it gets too hot to even think about walking around churches, I will suffer inside with the aircondition on, reading about baboons (an amazing book I just picked up, reviews to come).
Faith is not about the structure and the frou-frou of palms, incense and atonement, it's about something that is planted and sown inside you by your parents, teachers, religious leaders, and the community. My seed withered away and I have not replanted it.
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