3 layers of robes, 6 belts, suffering-succotash my feet won't fit in those slippers, and 4 hours of trying not to take normal breaths. I haven't seen the movie with Zhang Ziyi (not Ziyi Zhang as those idiots in American entertainment tv call her), Michelle Yeoh, Gong Li et al; although the book was quite good and very entertaining. However, I can empathize, for Saturday afternoon, I had my brush with geisha-hood.
A group merienda at Kai was hosted by my food society in honor of the 50th anniversary of Japan-Philippines relations (a bit unassuming considering how much of an impact Japan has had on our history. And 50?! Who's bright idea was it to whitewash the real ties between our countries? But I digress.). A Japanese tea ceremony and a kaiseki menu was conjured up, and our generous Japanese contacts were kind enough to share tidbits of their culture with us (games, demonstrating the tea ceremony and telling us where to get little giveaways etc). One part of their generosity lay in lending us lovely kimonos, for the 5 committee members. A part of me wanted to ask the other committee members "When did the organizers ever have to dress up?" but I squelched my orneriness and went along with it.
To be frank, I was a bit worried. I'm not sylphlike. My bones are nothing like a china doll, and my feet are never going to be ready for a Cinderella glass slipper. My Chinese grandmother's peasant stock is in full bloom with me. But the other ladies on the committee said they'd already made arrangements with our clothes so nothing to be worried about. Ok.
I arrive early on Saturday, and am rushed into the dressing process by our kimono expert, who natters on with our primary Japanese host, in Japanese of course, about the kimono I should wear. I'm pretty sure they are bemoaning how I am to fit into any of the pieces, and during the course of my fitting, which takes longer than anyone else's, the running mental curse goes through me that I need to get back to my exercise regiment soon. The first robe I tried was a lovely purple piece but that proved to be a bit small. So I was given a dark blue with exotic orchids on them. After putting on the first layer of undergarments and then the robe, I was given my first taste of how hard it would be to breathe. The first belt was a thin rope to hold the skirt and top coat together - OUCH. I felt my stomach fat cells looking for new spaces to squeeze into. Then I tried on the kimono. It may look comfortable with it's gorgeous square sleeves and long flowing skirt, but believe me when I say that if you're not used to a corset and girdle, plus a backbrace all at the same time, then you won't find yourself too keen on the kimono. The belts, one on top of the other, pulling my gut, back and ribs together into one flat package. By the time the two teachers had me boxed up, I had a lovely golden green obi with these shimmery golden knots tied on the top and in the middle. I do love the box knot they use in the back, so elegant and puffy (and easy to destroy if you're not watching where you sit). It took me most of the 4 hours wearing it through the meal before I found a semi-comfortable breathing pattern (in my upper chest cavity rather than in my abdomen as my wont), plus I'd do a few plonks on the bullet-proof like obi when I got bored with proceedings. Maybe Japanese drummers should use the obi as a percussion instrument, it's got a nice thump to it.
I won't even go into the lows of trying to find a sandal that would fit. None of them did. So I ended up with my Happy Feet sandals instead. Heck it's got a wooden sole! And the flower pattern fit my robe. At least only one part of my body was feeling crushed.
Mindless of all my whining, I would highly encourage anyone who gets a chance to wear a kimono to do so. There's something about wearing a national costume of another culture that transforms you. I've worn chinese robes, American western wear, Thai and Vietnamese robes. Now I'll add the kimono to my list and look forward to another opportunity for international cultural advancement soon.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Monday, February 20, 2006
Me Movie Marathon
Last week I turned a year older, 36. And spent 5 days being lazy. Unlike years past, I didn't travel, didn't go to a museum or a play or an art show. Didn't buy new music or new shoes or new books (horrors). This year I saw movies, both on the big screen and in my jammies in front of the tv.
It began with Brokeback Mountain, birthday night premier. A flock of us went to Greenbelt for the show and didn't spend enough post-movie time chitchatting. I do find that I miss people who can spend a couple of hours talking about the movie after the film. My friends are nice and all, but they don't get involved in that scene, and I miss that kind of interaction. Even if they disliked the movie, I'd appreciate some comments afterwards rather than the yawns, discussion on who's riding home with whom, and plans for the next movie. Ah well.
Is there anything else to say about Brokeback? Reviews are out there ad nauseum, so go find it. Me? I liked it.
Thursday, I spent at home, close to 12 hours of cable watching. I truly felt braindead after, so kids, don't do this at home. What did I see: Day After Tomorrow, Harry Potter 4, caught part of Love Actually (they cut out all the good parts), and snippets of several really bad action films. And finally saw the first episode of the new season of CSI. Not bad but too many story lines. Had to watch it again on Sunday to catch some of the subplots. I knew Catherine had the hots for Warwick!!!
Friday - no movies, as we had the housewarming and belated birthday party. Going around getting things done, checking on the food, plants, equipment. Of course, last minute madness, what else is new. But the house is clean and smells of good things.
Saturday - late mornings, too lazy to go out and missed some appointments, nothing life threatening. I eventually rolled out in the late afternoon to meet up with friends for dinner and a movie. The original plan to watch Munich fell through due to timing, so we ended up in the hands of Pink Panther. My only reaction is I want my money back. Truly wretchingly bad. The few chuckle spots were not enough to counteract the flat story, B-class acting and insipid slapstick. Comedy is truly harder than drama.
Sunday - another late morning, but I have a new mattress to enjoy (finally! after months of suffering on that lumpy futon, my back is free to sleep comfortably), and headed out for another movie night with friends (same as above). This time, I had made prior arrangements and we got prime seats for Munich. A much stronger film than I expected to see, and violence galore. However, between Brokeback and Munich, I'm still rooting for the former at the Oscars. The story line was simpler, cleaner and less wobbly. Acting was equally strong among the predominantly male casts of both films. But given the political stance of Munich, it left me with a unsettled taste in my mouth; knowing what we know of the consequent actions in the Middle East, the movie could not allow for too many platitudes. But at one point I sincerely wanted some grievous action to take place against the protagonist. Just to end the movie!
Living in fantasy land is probably the last thing I want to do as I edge closer to middle age. But are the alternative options any better?
It began with Brokeback Mountain, birthday night premier. A flock of us went to Greenbelt for the show and didn't spend enough post-movie time chitchatting. I do find that I miss people who can spend a couple of hours talking about the movie after the film. My friends are nice and all, but they don't get involved in that scene, and I miss that kind of interaction. Even if they disliked the movie, I'd appreciate some comments afterwards rather than the yawns, discussion on who's riding home with whom, and plans for the next movie. Ah well.
Is there anything else to say about Brokeback? Reviews are out there ad nauseum, so go find it. Me? I liked it.
Thursday, I spent at home, close to 12 hours of cable watching. I truly felt braindead after, so kids, don't do this at home. What did I see: Day After Tomorrow, Harry Potter 4, caught part of Love Actually (they cut out all the good parts), and snippets of several really bad action films. And finally saw the first episode of the new season of CSI. Not bad but too many story lines. Had to watch it again on Sunday to catch some of the subplots. I knew Catherine had the hots for Warwick!!!
Friday - no movies, as we had the housewarming and belated birthday party. Going around getting things done, checking on the food, plants, equipment. Of course, last minute madness, what else is new. But the house is clean and smells of good things.
Saturday - late mornings, too lazy to go out and missed some appointments, nothing life threatening. I eventually rolled out in the late afternoon to meet up with friends for dinner and a movie. The original plan to watch Munich fell through due to timing, so we ended up in the hands of Pink Panther. My only reaction is I want my money back. Truly wretchingly bad. The few chuckle spots were not enough to counteract the flat story, B-class acting and insipid slapstick. Comedy is truly harder than drama.
Sunday - another late morning, but I have a new mattress to enjoy (finally! after months of suffering on that lumpy futon, my back is free to sleep comfortably), and headed out for another movie night with friends (same as above). This time, I had made prior arrangements and we got prime seats for Munich. A much stronger film than I expected to see, and violence galore. However, between Brokeback and Munich, I'm still rooting for the former at the Oscars. The story line was simpler, cleaner and less wobbly. Acting was equally strong among the predominantly male casts of both films. But given the political stance of Munich, it left me with a unsettled taste in my mouth; knowing what we know of the consequent actions in the Middle East, the movie could not allow for too many platitudes. But at one point I sincerely wanted some grievous action to take place against the protagonist. Just to end the movie!
Living in fantasy land is probably the last thing I want to do as I edge closer to middle age. But are the alternative options any better?
Monday, February 13, 2006
My First LP: Lasang Pinoy 7: Gising na! ALMUSAL!
My friend threw me this hypothetical and somewhat theoretical question: What would my first meal be in heaven (assuming of course certain religious affiliation and that I'd be awake and conscious and hungry when I got there. Plus do our souls need earthy food up there?)?
After much cogitating (or is it cogitation? More likely agitation of the brain.) I tossed out the lavish buffet, or the gourmet tasting menu. Instead, I chose comfort food, which to me means breakfast. Almusal, breakfast, is my comfort zone, where I see myself in pjs, tousled hair, a good book, and a looong morning ahead of me with no bothersome work or stress in sight. This would also take place in a white cottage, overlooking the ocean. After a few more zoned out drooling minutes, I chose the ff to be on my list for heavenly breakfast food:
1. Fried rice, heavy on the garlic, rock salt and that slightly burnt or perhaps better described as caramelized rice. You can't do fried rice without cooking it first, then letting it cool, overnight is best. So fried rice means patience or foresight, cooking enough quantities so that the next morning you can dump it into a hot wok filled with garlic, some butter and oil, but even better is the oil from pork adobo, which leads me to ....
2. Pork adobo. What did you expect, banana pancakes? I like mine of the oily but saucy variety, the kind where you know the cook had enough soy sauce and vinegar, bay leaves and peppercorns, plus a good cut of pork, stewed hours until the pork bits are nicely soft and melt in your mouth good. Again, adobo tastes better a day or two after it's been cooked, so this breakfast isn't going to happen without some heavy planning. Heaven should be the right place for it.
3. However, I realized that I'm more a fish person and what I sometimes crave for at breakfast and don't always get is a good sizeable serving of crispy dilis or dangit whichever is available. Where I go for my crispy dilis moments is Via Mare, where they have a breakfast plate of fried garlic rice, crispy dilis (and an small dish of spicy vinegar) and fried egg.
4. And who could forget the egg when it comes to breakfast. When eggs were created (probably in some heavenly or utopian environment) the egg maker must have looked at it and said "thou shalt be breakfast food" and so it was. It is the perfect food, lots of nutrition, and tasty when cooked right or with the proper accessories. Everyone has their way of eating a fried or soft-boiled or poached egg (my favorite ways of cooking an egg in order of preference). My way is a throwback to my childhood, two eggs, sunnyside up, with a runny yolk to cut into the rice, spreading its golden goodness into the garlicky, slightly salty and oily rice. That alone is worth the price of dying of clogged arteries. Add some tiny chillies for a zing on the tongue, with a splash of soysauce if the rice isn't salty enough.
To go with this medley, I'd choose two beverages: a freshly squeezed glass of orange juice, pulp please. Yes, it's not true blue pinoy, but OJ transcends national borders. And to make the meal complete, a large cup of grainy, dark, bold tsokolate ah/eh/i/o/u. Thick and viscous, leaves a trail down my palate, and enough remnants to make me hungry for more a few hours later.
That would be my heavenly meal. My almusal, and my earthly delight.
After much cogitating (or is it cogitation? More likely agitation of the brain.) I tossed out the lavish buffet, or the gourmet tasting menu. Instead, I chose comfort food, which to me means breakfast. Almusal, breakfast, is my comfort zone, where I see myself in pjs, tousled hair, a good book, and a looong morning ahead of me with no bothersome work or stress in sight. This would also take place in a white cottage, overlooking the ocean. After a few more zoned out drooling minutes, I chose the ff to be on my list for heavenly breakfast food:
1. Fried rice, heavy on the garlic, rock salt and that slightly burnt or perhaps better described as caramelized rice. You can't do fried rice without cooking it first, then letting it cool, overnight is best. So fried rice means patience or foresight, cooking enough quantities so that the next morning you can dump it into a hot wok filled with garlic, some butter and oil, but even better is the oil from pork adobo, which leads me to ....
2. Pork adobo. What did you expect, banana pancakes? I like mine of the oily but saucy variety, the kind where you know the cook had enough soy sauce and vinegar, bay leaves and peppercorns, plus a good cut of pork, stewed hours until the pork bits are nicely soft and melt in your mouth good. Again, adobo tastes better a day or two after it's been cooked, so this breakfast isn't going to happen without some heavy planning. Heaven should be the right place for it.
3. However, I realized that I'm more a fish person and what I sometimes crave for at breakfast and don't always get is a good sizeable serving of crispy dilis or dangit whichever is available. Where I go for my crispy dilis moments is Via Mare, where they have a breakfast plate of fried garlic rice, crispy dilis (and an small dish of spicy vinegar) and fried egg.
4. And who could forget the egg when it comes to breakfast. When eggs were created (probably in some heavenly or utopian environment) the egg maker must have looked at it and said "thou shalt be breakfast food" and so it was. It is the perfect food, lots of nutrition, and tasty when cooked right or with the proper accessories. Everyone has their way of eating a fried or soft-boiled or poached egg (my favorite ways of cooking an egg in order of preference). My way is a throwback to my childhood, two eggs, sunnyside up, with a runny yolk to cut into the rice, spreading its golden goodness into the garlicky, slightly salty and oily rice. That alone is worth the price of dying of clogged arteries. Add some tiny chillies for a zing on the tongue, with a splash of soysauce if the rice isn't salty enough.
To go with this medley, I'd choose two beverages: a freshly squeezed glass of orange juice, pulp please. Yes, it's not true blue pinoy, but OJ transcends national borders. And to make the meal complete, a large cup of grainy, dark, bold tsokolate ah/eh/i/o/u. Thick and viscous, leaves a trail down my palate, and enough remnants to make me hungry for more a few hours later.
That would be my heavenly meal. My almusal, and my earthly delight.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Fiber Friday
Losing weight is full of traps. Can't eat this, that, everything tastes like cardboard, costs money, count calories, steps, burn baby burn those fat cells. Honestly, the only people who lose 20 lbs in a month are those who can afford the cost of a two hour personal trainer per day, plus the time not to do anything else.
But as I'm not into losing weight just to drop the pounds but to get a grip on my health (diabetes lurking in the background), one aspect of the eating part of this process has been to increase my fiber intake. I try to have oatmeal three times a week, started adding flaxseed to my chocolate milk or in addition to my oatmeal, and now, took off with my dad's one month supply of psyllium to take before my meals. OR after! To push out whatever's stuck I hope.
I remember having a talk with a friend, she of the allergic to all and sundry eating temperaments and licensed nutritionist to boot. Her advise was to check the ratio of dietary fiber to carb notes on food nutritional tables. She said that the healthiest ratio was a 1:4 fiber-carb. So I look at my lunch today, a pack of chilli, with 9 fiber carbs to 30 total carbs. Pretty good ratio there. I should feel pretty full with just one serving. And hopefully it will taste ok.
Will add my review later. For now, off I go to the fiber feast.
But as I'm not into losing weight just to drop the pounds but to get a grip on my health (diabetes lurking in the background), one aspect of the eating part of this process has been to increase my fiber intake. I try to have oatmeal three times a week, started adding flaxseed to my chocolate milk or in addition to my oatmeal, and now, took off with my dad's one month supply of psyllium to take before my meals. OR after! To push out whatever's stuck I hope.
I remember having a talk with a friend, she of the allergic to all and sundry eating temperaments and licensed nutritionist to boot. Her advise was to check the ratio of dietary fiber to carb notes on food nutritional tables. She said that the healthiest ratio was a 1:4 fiber-carb. So I look at my lunch today, a pack of chilli, with 9 fiber carbs to 30 total carbs. Pretty good ratio there. I should feel pretty full with just one serving. And hopefully it will taste ok.
Will add my review later. For now, off I go to the fiber feast.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Weekend musings
Friday night, post-family dinner in an overpacked chinese resto in greenhills, I met up with three total strangers to play poker. I've become a semi-fan of watching poker on tv. After thinking what a waste of time and it's so not a sport so why are they showing it on a sports channel, I've started to see the light of day. When the shows on that cable channel pop up while I'm huffing and puffing away on the treadmill or elliptical machine, I stay on it, and usually find myself 800 calories lighter (1.5 hours of watching tv does help burn the fat!). I don't get all the details yet (some of the flops and combinations or the high card still confuse me), but trying to figure out how people bet and whether or not they'll be put off by bluffers is far more interesting than watching stupid sitcoms.
I found my fellow poker buddies online. M posted on a bulletin board, and by chance I saw it, and offered myself up to a game. We played late into the night; two of the players were far more expert than the other two (I'm in the latter half). By night's end I had won a tidy sum, mostly from getting decent cards, and a few good bluffs. Still have to practice checking and betting though.
Saturday, long and hot day walking around Chinatown, trying to listen to Streetwalker Ivan's tour insights. I think I need to do the tour a few more times so that I can memorize where the food stops are. My favorites are still the authentic Northern Chinese dumplings, and I enjoyed the two airconditioned restaurants for sheer comfort. I'll have to go back to that stall that sold cold Taiwanese noodles and try to find that crispy baozi stall again too. And our last stop to buy fresh amoy lumpia was a refreshing end to the eating tour. Anyone who wants a culinary trek around our town's Chinese enclave, check out Ivan's Binondo tour.
Sunday, too tired and lazy to get out. I had a full day planned: CCP open house to catch the Bayanihan and Madrigals, then a short volunteer stint for PAWS at the Chinese New Year Dog show over at Eastwood. Instead, I wore my jammies, robe and watched cable and a couple of DVDs. Bah, one less day to do nothing.
Monday, it nearly turned into another Sunday, but was saved by my impromptu bathroom cleaning stint. Then caught the SAG awards before heading out to buy supplies. Of course instead of just stocking up on necessities, I ended up picking up some non-essentials (distinctly unhealthy non-essentials; the only bit that I chose not to buy was ice cream as it would have been a puddly mess by the time I finally got home). Walked around the bazaar, found few attractive tidbits among the rabble, and with a headache the size of Mars bearing down on my temples, headed home for some dark, cold quiet. It was a unpeacable end to a lethargic two days.
I found my fellow poker buddies online. M posted on a bulletin board, and by chance I saw it, and offered myself up to a game. We played late into the night; two of the players were far more expert than the other two (I'm in the latter half). By night's end I had won a tidy sum, mostly from getting decent cards, and a few good bluffs. Still have to practice checking and betting though.
Saturday, long and hot day walking around Chinatown, trying to listen to Streetwalker Ivan's tour insights. I think I need to do the tour a few more times so that I can memorize where the food stops are. My favorites are still the authentic Northern Chinese dumplings, and I enjoyed the two airconditioned restaurants for sheer comfort. I'll have to go back to that stall that sold cold Taiwanese noodles and try to find that crispy baozi stall again too. And our last stop to buy fresh amoy lumpia was a refreshing end to the eating tour. Anyone who wants a culinary trek around our town's Chinese enclave, check out Ivan's Binondo tour.
Sunday, too tired and lazy to get out. I had a full day planned: CCP open house to catch the Bayanihan and Madrigals, then a short volunteer stint for PAWS at the Chinese New Year Dog show over at Eastwood. Instead, I wore my jammies, robe and watched cable and a couple of DVDs. Bah, one less day to do nothing.
Monday, it nearly turned into another Sunday, but was saved by my impromptu bathroom cleaning stint. Then caught the SAG awards before heading out to buy supplies. Of course instead of just stocking up on necessities, I ended up picking up some non-essentials (distinctly unhealthy non-essentials; the only bit that I chose not to buy was ice cream as it would have been a puddly mess by the time I finally got home). Walked around the bazaar, found few attractive tidbits among the rabble, and with a headache the size of Mars bearing down on my temples, headed home for some dark, cold quiet. It was a unpeacable end to a lethargic two days.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
I heart pears, and other fruits too
Bought 12 pears yesterday. Ya pears, as they are labelled, or as I know them, chinese yellow pears. The pears my dad would bring just for me from Taiwan and China, because I was the only one amongst us who loved them more than the oranges and apples strewn around the house (not that we had dustbunnies of fruits, but we've just had years where nothing else was in the refrigerator. And yet, we're all overweight. Hmmm). I remember breaking a saucer after trying to halve a pear. Biting into my first Bartlett and feeling sadly disappointed (I like the crisp crunch of the Ya variety); but falling in love completely with the tart sweetness of the Anjou with it's aroma and grainy mouth feel. I've poached them in wine and in cider, yet a fresh, cold pear still takes the prize.
Other fruits that make me happy, dance for joy happy: white peaches (to die for in their peak, the aroma opens my salivary glands and I devour all I see in my path), bing and queen anne cherries (my favorite farmer's market find in the Northwest when I go to the US for summer), strawberries (wild sweet ones, and even the steroid mutants that don't look like fruit, more like Arnold Schwarzennegar-styled red pillows. Those I'd rather eat dipped in chocolate to avoid looking at all their muscles.), fresh blueberries, and sweet oranges. Lately, I've bought several Taiwan oranges in the Salcedo market and they've been wonderfully sweet. Eat them standing up watching traffic without the lights on, and you'd think you were anywhere but Manila.
That's not to say I avoid local fruits. Seasonally, I'm a sucker for the best mangos, duhats (with a sprinkling of salt to make them squishy), siniguelas (spelling? ditto on salt especially when not so ripe), lanzones, and our native bananas (who in their right mind wants to eat those cardboard clone bananas from some multi-national farm company without any flavor when we have so many good fruits around). Pineapples (with salt), papaya (with a squish of calamansi), and Calamansi of course. Dayap and Dalandan make our lives a whole lot better too.
Living in China, I found a plethora (love that word, Plethora, pllllethorrrra) of no-English-names fruit. A mutant orange that I finally found out was the kumquat (edible skin, not so edible innards, but just a nice combination of sweet and sour), some kind of berry with red spokes clustered around the seeds. Really good and haven't seen them anywhere else. And lychees, luckily they're known outside Asia too. But I found out that they raise too much heat in the body, that whole yin/yang thing. So I can only eat a few of those tasty morsels.
Huh, I just met someone who's never heard of papaya. Deprived soul!
Other fruits that make me happy, dance for joy happy: white peaches (to die for in their peak, the aroma opens my salivary glands and I devour all I see in my path), bing and queen anne cherries (my favorite farmer's market find in the Northwest when I go to the US for summer), strawberries (wild sweet ones, and even the steroid mutants that don't look like fruit, more like Arnold Schwarzennegar-styled red pillows. Those I'd rather eat dipped in chocolate to avoid looking at all their muscles.), fresh blueberries, and sweet oranges. Lately, I've bought several Taiwan oranges in the Salcedo market and they've been wonderfully sweet. Eat them standing up watching traffic without the lights on, and you'd think you were anywhere but Manila.
That's not to say I avoid local fruits. Seasonally, I'm a sucker for the best mangos, duhats (with a sprinkling of salt to make them squishy), siniguelas (spelling? ditto on salt especially when not so ripe), lanzones, and our native bananas (who in their right mind wants to eat those cardboard clone bananas from some multi-national farm company without any flavor when we have so many good fruits around). Pineapples (with salt), papaya (with a squish of calamansi), and Calamansi of course. Dayap and Dalandan make our lives a whole lot better too.
Living in China, I found a plethora (love that word, Plethora, pllllethorrrra) of no-English-names fruit. A mutant orange that I finally found out was the kumquat (edible skin, not so edible innards, but just a nice combination of sweet and sour), some kind of berry with red spokes clustered around the seeds. Really good and haven't seen them anywhere else. And lychees, luckily they're known outside Asia too. But I found out that they raise too much heat in the body, that whole yin/yang thing. So I can only eat a few of those tasty morsels.
Huh, I just met someone who's never heard of papaya. Deprived soul!
Is it Friday yet? Is it? Is it?
Wandering down Ayala Avenue or nearabouts, I was musing on the movement of the days through the week. It's a good way to waste time while fruitlessly flagging down taxis in a drizzle (what's up with the weather? Rain? in January???). So, everyone agrees that Mondays are a drag on the psyche, Tuesdays and Wednesdays seem to be middle of the week days that are just there, plonked. By Thursday though, all thoughts flit to the weekend, and like the annoying child in a long car trip, we start thinking of ways to waste our weekends, harassing our ulcers with shindigs and preparations. Fellow procrastinators would also agree that by late Wednesday, all sorts of mini-anxiety attacks start to creep up over the petty things pushed off from Monday to Tuesday and now it's the end of Wednesday without anything to show for it.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
5:33 and counting
While waiting for the end of the day, looking out the window panes and shirking from any thought of going out into the open while it's drizzling, reading through blogs about everything I can find, and avoiding edible temptation over by the office pantry, I realize that it's time to update this blog. Golly gee, 13 days since my last post or two. Time flies, it'll be christmas again before I realize it.
Financially speaking, January is the biggest bummer. I've get a debt load to sink the Titanic, yet I'm smiling through it. Will not allow MONEY pull me down. But I must rethink my plans. Hong Kong and Macau will probably be scuttled. An offer to join friends for an authentic Songkran trip to Chiang Mai will probably not work out either. And if the work trip to Montreal doesn't get sponsorship money, then I'm down to Mongolia. And I'm invested in Tubbataha, though I suppose if I had to, I'd probably step back from that just to save money for Mongolia.
I'm also going to depend on the family car a lot more, to save on transportation expenses. Fall back as cabs cost cash. And avoiding eating out is a good thing. The occasional food trip isn't a bad thing, simply a more concerted effort towards finding options. For example, a free day at the CCP this Sunday, a tip care of fellow blogger and streetwalker Carlos Celdran, will be a better day option than wasting time and brain cells in the mall or watching insipid films (Cheaper by the Dozen 2, or Underworld. Straight to dvd for both of you!).
But speaking of films, I was glad to see another post in the blogosphere that Brokeback Mountain will be opening soon. After some detective work, I've texted friends to join me in mid-February for a movie night. I'm looking forward to seeing the film. Would like to find the short story, but it's not on any of the published short story collections of Annie Proux available in local bookstores. If anyone has a copy, let me know.
Reaching through the virtual void, I've also made contact with fellow poker wannabees, and should have an actual poker night one day. Looking forward to that. Will probably loose my shirt. Am too cautious a gambler to make the bold moves needed to win big pots. Watching the game on cable, I find myself thinking how ruthless the winners are, something I'm not. I'd just enjoy meeting people, eating bad food, drinking some wine while losing all my money.
I have hazelnuts! From another blog, plans are afoot to make homemade Nutella. Wonder if that's a good saleable item? Nah, it's too easy to get the commercial version in the markets.
Cable is evil. I haven't opened any of my new books since the cable was installed. All I end up doing is turning on the tv and watching people do silly things. And thinking of all the unhealthy things I'd like to eat while watching the adolescent shenanigans. There does seem to be a correlation with the amount of time I don't get to spend cleaning to the hours lazying on the sofa watching telly. I'm turning into a slob! Vicious image indeed.
Financially speaking, January is the biggest bummer. I've get a debt load to sink the Titanic, yet I'm smiling through it. Will not allow MONEY pull me down. But I must rethink my plans. Hong Kong and Macau will probably be scuttled. An offer to join friends for an authentic Songkran trip to Chiang Mai will probably not work out either. And if the work trip to Montreal doesn't get sponsorship money, then I'm down to Mongolia. And I'm invested in Tubbataha, though I suppose if I had to, I'd probably step back from that just to save money for Mongolia.
I'm also going to depend on the family car a lot more, to save on transportation expenses. Fall back as cabs cost cash. And avoiding eating out is a good thing. The occasional food trip isn't a bad thing, simply a more concerted effort towards finding options. For example, a free day at the CCP this Sunday, a tip care of fellow blogger and streetwalker Carlos Celdran, will be a better day option than wasting time and brain cells in the mall or watching insipid films (Cheaper by the Dozen 2, or Underworld. Straight to dvd for both of you!).
But speaking of films, I was glad to see another post in the blogosphere that Brokeback Mountain will be opening soon. After some detective work, I've texted friends to join me in mid-February for a movie night. I'm looking forward to seeing the film. Would like to find the short story, but it's not on any of the published short story collections of Annie Proux available in local bookstores. If anyone has a copy, let me know.
Reaching through the virtual void, I've also made contact with fellow poker wannabees, and should have an actual poker night one day. Looking forward to that. Will probably loose my shirt. Am too cautious a gambler to make the bold moves needed to win big pots. Watching the game on cable, I find myself thinking how ruthless the winners are, something I'm not. I'd just enjoy meeting people, eating bad food, drinking some wine while losing all my money.
I have hazelnuts! From another blog, plans are afoot to make homemade Nutella. Wonder if that's a good saleable item? Nah, it's too easy to get the commercial version in the markets.
Cable is evil. I haven't opened any of my new books since the cable was installed. All I end up doing is turning on the tv and watching people do silly things. And thinking of all the unhealthy things I'd like to eat while watching the adolescent shenanigans. There does seem to be a correlation with the amount of time I don't get to spend cleaning to the hours lazying on the sofa watching telly. I'm turning into a slob! Vicious image indeed.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
What I do for a living - 1
I've tried to keep this blog free from work related information since I'm surrounded by the stuff all the time. But in the interest of helping anyone out there who might need to access the information, I'm going to occasionally put up a notice or two about some US school related information.
The Fund for American Studies in partnership with the University of Hong Kong and Georgetown University created the Asia Institute for Political Economy in 2002, as a platform for academic and cross-cultural exchange. It aims to be the premier Asian political economy program, and directs a cohort of 60 scholars from all over the world on the issues affecting the region's dynamic structure. This year's program will be held from July 28 to August 19 in Hong Kong. The deadline for applications (online) is March 15, 2006. Visit www.tfasinternational.org for details, applications, and funding related matters.
The Fund for American Studies in partnership with the University of Hong Kong and Georgetown University created the Asia Institute for Political Economy in 2002, as a platform for academic and cross-cultural exchange. It aims to be the premier Asian political economy program, and directs a cohort of 60 scholars from all over the world on the issues affecting the region's dynamic structure. This year's program will be held from July 28 to August 19 in Hong Kong. The deadline for applications (online) is March 15, 2006. Visit www.tfasinternational.org for details, applications, and funding related matters.
The amazing Christmas and New Year Diet
6:20 a.m., January 10. I walk into the gym, half awake after rousing myself up from a deep sleep, dreaming of dried thigh (too strange to put in a semi-public forum like this, so believe me when I say it was one of the strangest dreams I've had in awhile, and I'm on the top weird dreamers of this century), too groggy to think beyond putting on my gym clothes and staggering downstairs to the waiting car.
I fiddle with the locker, not noticing the lock's not really locking in place, put on my monitor, but decide instead to do a last minute weigh-in before sweating out my built-up toxins. I fiddle with the scale, moving it between the marks. It's too heavy. Move it lower, still too heavy. Move it back two pounds lower and viola, a perfect balance. OMG, I lost weight! Wow. And it doesn't sink in until after lunch.
What a great way to keep going on the path of health. I just wish I didn't have to spend two hours exercising each day and avoiding all the good things in life: chocolate, ice cream, and more chocolate. And a big bowl of fried rice with taba ng talangka (crabfat).
I fiddle with the locker, not noticing the lock's not really locking in place, put on my monitor, but decide instead to do a last minute weigh-in before sweating out my built-up toxins. I fiddle with the scale, moving it between the marks. It's too heavy. Move it lower, still too heavy. Move it back two pounds lower and viola, a perfect balance. OMG, I lost weight! Wow. And it doesn't sink in until after lunch.
What a great way to keep going on the path of health. I just wish I didn't have to spend two hours exercising each day and avoiding all the good things in life: chocolate, ice cream, and more chocolate. And a big bowl of fried rice with taba ng talangka (crabfat).
Friday, December 23, 2005
End of the year resolutions (tick tick, tick, tick)
What do you do when you have nothing to do? You complete lists, wait till the last minute to finish a food diary for the weight management trainer who is expecting you at 12 (it's 11:30 a.m.), and read through blogs.
Today is the official last day of work. Other than a legal matter that has gotten my bloodpressure up, it's a quiet day of nothingness. A column of sunshine broke through the grey gloom of this unnaturally wet season this morning, making me hope that the day would prove as cheery as a summer's day. But the weather is playing bah humbugs with us, so it's back to sheet metal grey outside, threats of rain.
6 hours to go before freedom. I feel like a school kid waiting for the clock to strike before the start of the summer holidays. Why can't adults get summer holidays, two months off for every ten months of work? You can choose which two months to take off, most might choose the summer, but I'd travel between December and February. If I wanted heat, I'd head down to Australia or New Zealand, maybe South America. If I wanted winter, there's all of the northern hemisphere to choose from.
I resolve not to have any 2006 resolutions. Instead: travel plans! February - Macau and Hong Kong to see friends, a friend's new baby, and to eat good bacalau, and a dimsum breakfast like only Hong Kong can do. May - possibly Montreal, with an option to trip through Boston and Dartmouth, maybe a side trip to California. July - MONGOLIA!!!! I can see it now, roaring hooves, flying arrows, gurgling songs, yak butter.... Roaring hooves! Camels! Yurts!
Two domestic trips lined up: attend Myra's birthday in Zamboanga and then soon after do my second Tubbataha trip. Both in April.
2005 was a year full of friends. We had a new crop of people join the eating group. I finally got friends to start diving, and I moved house. School was both a positive, as I finally took the plunge back into an academic setting. But it hasn't proven to be the program I want to stay with.
Onward ho to 2006 (roaring hoov....)
Today is the official last day of work. Other than a legal matter that has gotten my bloodpressure up, it's a quiet day of nothingness. A column of sunshine broke through the grey gloom of this unnaturally wet season this morning, making me hope that the day would prove as cheery as a summer's day. But the weather is playing bah humbugs with us, so it's back to sheet metal grey outside, threats of rain.
6 hours to go before freedom. I feel like a school kid waiting for the clock to strike before the start of the summer holidays. Why can't adults get summer holidays, two months off for every ten months of work? You can choose which two months to take off, most might choose the summer, but I'd travel between December and February. If I wanted heat, I'd head down to Australia or New Zealand, maybe South America. If I wanted winter, there's all of the northern hemisphere to choose from.
I resolve not to have any 2006 resolutions. Instead: travel plans! February - Macau and Hong Kong to see friends, a friend's new baby, and to eat good bacalau, and a dimsum breakfast like only Hong Kong can do. May - possibly Montreal, with an option to trip through Boston and Dartmouth, maybe a side trip to California. July - MONGOLIA!!!! I can see it now, roaring hooves, flying arrows, gurgling songs, yak butter.... Roaring hooves! Camels! Yurts!
Two domestic trips lined up: attend Myra's birthday in Zamboanga and then soon after do my second Tubbataha trip. Both in April.
2005 was a year full of friends. We had a new crop of people join the eating group. I finally got friends to start diving, and I moved house. School was both a positive, as I finally took the plunge back into an academic setting. But it hasn't proven to be the program I want to stay with.
Onward ho to 2006 (roaring hoov....)
Monday, December 19, 2005
Simbang Gabi
4 a.m. masses, churches are packed, and the only reason for going is to bring two new-to-Manila folks for something seasonally specific. Luckily both visitors were Catholic and also didn't mind standing for over an hour. We left the church, a little holier (ha!), and went outside to look over the available drink and food. But neither visitor felt in the mood for heavy starch, so all we took was the free salabat.
The church was one I had gone to as a child, rekindling memories of Sunday masses, walking home one January (I was 11, and the family were going to lunch for my brother's birthday. Everyone in one car thought I was in the other vehicle, so they left. I walked home, and they all came streaming back aghast I hadn't just waited in the church (what the heck was I going to do there?). My brother's never quite forgiven me for the ruined birthday lunch.), and sitting through sermons bored out of my mind. The altar is a bit more gilt than I remember, a friend told me they have renovated it recently. All that new rococo doesn't quite fit the stark modern lines of the ceiling. It looks out of place.
Instead of having our early morning repast after mass, we joined a friend's family for breakfast at Dulcinea. I had a filling chicken galantina breakfast, but later in the afternoon, I felt like more breakfast food, so had corned beef with atchara. Of course we had churros con chocolate, what is a visit to Dulcinea without Ch con Ch?
The church was one I had gone to as a child, rekindling memories of Sunday masses, walking home one January (I was 11, and the family were going to lunch for my brother's birthday. Everyone in one car thought I was in the other vehicle, so they left. I walked home, and they all came streaming back aghast I hadn't just waited in the church (what the heck was I going to do there?). My brother's never quite forgiven me for the ruined birthday lunch.), and sitting through sermons bored out of my mind. The altar is a bit more gilt than I remember, a friend told me they have renovated it recently. All that new rococo doesn't quite fit the stark modern lines of the ceiling. It looks out of place.
Instead of having our early morning repast after mass, we joined a friend's family for breakfast at Dulcinea. I had a filling chicken galantina breakfast, but later in the afternoon, I felt like more breakfast food, so had corned beef with atchara. Of course we had churros con chocolate, what is a visit to Dulcinea without Ch con Ch?
Friday, December 16, 2005
Water up my nose
A friend emailed me saying how he doesn't like snorkelling after he swallowed a mouthful of salt water. Guess he won't be intested in diving either. Don't know how many gulps of seawater I've ingested on dives these past 4 years. What more my dive instructors and dive masters who have to do this for a living!
I thought of his comment after getting some chlorinated water up my nozzle this morning. Early morning swim, felt a bit brisk today. But I did take in too much in one gulp at one point and spluttered to a finish. Gack! Honk! Snort! Thank goodness no one else was in the pool with me, or I'd have felt like some surfacing hippo shaking off the mud and messing around the shallows.
Duty calls. Books need sorting, boxes need to be shelved and I have to make my desk semi-presentable. bore.dom.
I thought of his comment after getting some chlorinated water up my nozzle this morning. Early morning swim, felt a bit brisk today. But I did take in too much in one gulp at one point and spluttered to a finish. Gack! Honk! Snort! Thank goodness no one else was in the pool with me, or I'd have felt like some surfacing hippo shaking off the mud and messing around the shallows.
Duty calls. Books need sorting, boxes need to be shelved and I have to make my desk semi-presentable. bore.dom.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
It's all water weight, or pms
Losing weight is hard to do. That should be a song title.
I've been on a 8 week weight management program that incorporates weekly meetings with a trainer focusing on food intake, regular exercise, and one-on-one contact that we all sometimes need to get our butts out the door. After 4 weeks, I've lost less than 2 lbs, gotten sick for close to an entire week, but did feel more motivated about going to the gym, even at the ungodly hour of 6 a.m. The extra challenge here is trying to avoid gaining weight over the holidays, with parties practically every day, if not every meal. One major positive aspect has been reviewing the food intake and feeling mildly shocked at how much chocolates and sweets I was eating. One chocolate here, a couple of cakes there, boy do those things add up. I never thought of myself as a major sweettooth, but may have to revise my assumption. Can't remove it all from the diet, and wouldn't want to, so I'm using my old training tips: behavior modification and harm reduction. Plus the trainer hasn't stopped me from having any sweets, she has suggested reducing it, so it's been easier for me to hold the line. What I'm having a harder time doing is reducing the rice and starch. I love rice, it's such a comfort food. Pasta and bread too! We'd have to eat such dull, spiceless food if there wasn't any rice. No sauces, no drippings, no gravy too. Life is too negative already to remove all the good things in life.
I was at Powerbooks for a quick walk through and found a signed first edition of Peter Robinson's STRANGE AFFAIR in the sales bin, P199.00 only. I'd read another of his books (A cold season? or something like that) some years back. His mysteries revolve around a team of police investigators up in Yorkshire, England. All I know about England, I learned from mysteries. Well, not exactly, lots of PGWodehouse in there too. And Monty Python. Yikes. Ok, so a bulk of what I know about the UK is from fiction, and some writers are better than others about describing the dells and the vales, alongside the seamy underbelly of London or whatever city they plonk their protagonists in. Right, so back to Mr. Robinson. As the book was released in 2005, I do think it's one of the better buys I've made recently, among the number of first editions I've picked up. Am I going to fall into the condition called Gentle Madness by Nicholas Basbane? Pulling together a personal library of hard bound firsts? Nay, I say! I like my frumpy, frowsy soft bounds with rubbed edges and frayed paper. It says that I read my books. To heck with future value. My friend who covers all her books and color coordinates them may say that I'm wasting good money, but as we disagree on many issues related to investment, and as she's into financial planning she's probably right, but I'm not and to heck with all those who keep nagging me to put up my nest egg!!!!!....
So I was very pleased with my purchase, and the book was a decent story told. The primary detective DCS Alan Banks loses a family member to Eastern European slave traders. There are moments of intimate tragedy, intensity that is sometimes lacking in some other writers.
I've been on a 8 week weight management program that incorporates weekly meetings with a trainer focusing on food intake, regular exercise, and one-on-one contact that we all sometimes need to get our butts out the door. After 4 weeks, I've lost less than 2 lbs, gotten sick for close to an entire week, but did feel more motivated about going to the gym, even at the ungodly hour of 6 a.m. The extra challenge here is trying to avoid gaining weight over the holidays, with parties practically every day, if not every meal. One major positive aspect has been reviewing the food intake and feeling mildly shocked at how much chocolates and sweets I was eating. One chocolate here, a couple of cakes there, boy do those things add up. I never thought of myself as a major sweettooth, but may have to revise my assumption. Can't remove it all from the diet, and wouldn't want to, so I'm using my old training tips: behavior modification and harm reduction. Plus the trainer hasn't stopped me from having any sweets, she has suggested reducing it, so it's been easier for me to hold the line. What I'm having a harder time doing is reducing the rice and starch. I love rice, it's such a comfort food. Pasta and bread too! We'd have to eat such dull, spiceless food if there wasn't any rice. No sauces, no drippings, no gravy too. Life is too negative already to remove all the good things in life.
I was at Powerbooks for a quick walk through and found a signed first edition of Peter Robinson's STRANGE AFFAIR in the sales bin, P199.00 only. I'd read another of his books (A cold season? or something like that) some years back. His mysteries revolve around a team of police investigators up in Yorkshire, England. All I know about England, I learned from mysteries. Well, not exactly, lots of PGWodehouse in there too. And Monty Python. Yikes. Ok, so a bulk of what I know about the UK is from fiction, and some writers are better than others about describing the dells and the vales, alongside the seamy underbelly of London or whatever city they plonk their protagonists in. Right, so back to Mr. Robinson. As the book was released in 2005, I do think it's one of the better buys I've made recently, among the number of first editions I've picked up. Am I going to fall into the condition called Gentle Madness by Nicholas Basbane? Pulling together a personal library of hard bound firsts? Nay, I say! I like my frumpy, frowsy soft bounds with rubbed edges and frayed paper. It says that I read my books. To heck with future value. My friend who covers all her books and color coordinates them may say that I'm wasting good money, but as we disagree on many issues related to investment, and as she's into financial planning she's probably right, but I'm not and to heck with all those who keep nagging me to put up my nest egg!!!!!....
So I was very pleased with my purchase, and the book was a decent story told. The primary detective DCS Alan Banks loses a family member to Eastern European slave traders. There are moments of intimate tragedy, intensity that is sometimes lacking in some other writers.
Monday, December 05, 2005
A book critique: Citizen Girl
While waiting for a spinning class yesterday I popped into Fully Booked where a few books were on sale at the front of the store. As I forgot (consciously?) my book bag, I justified my purchase by saying to my stingy self "It's a sale" and got two books - Citizen Girl (E. Maclaughlin and N. Kraus, of Nanny Diaries fame) and Birds Without Wings (Louis de Berenieres' latest). I also picked up the latest Stopover edition as it had a number of articles related to diving, particularly in my favorite dive spot, Anilao.
I finished reading Citizen Girl by midnight, not because it was that compelling, although it was relatively short. If I were to compare it to the other forms of chicklit I've come across, I'd say it had some interesting sidenotes (morality in the face of commercialism, and maintaining one's integrity when dealing with issues affecting women's health and safety). However, I became increasingly annoyed at the endless plot twists, the unnecessary inclusion of the Bovary client and Los Angeles section (the book could have ended 50 pages earlier), then the new company which, I suppose, was the straw that broke Girl's back, but the twist was not very exciting anymore. I just wanted it to end. And so I sped read through the last ten pages.
I've collected all of LdB's books thus far, so I'm looking forward to reading his latest, even if the reviews weren't as good as Corelli's Mandolin. I miss his prose as well as Vikram Seth and Michael Ondaatje. I hope all three authors continue to write, reviewers bedamned.
I finished reading Citizen Girl by midnight, not because it was that compelling, although it was relatively short. If I were to compare it to the other forms of chicklit I've come across, I'd say it had some interesting sidenotes (morality in the face of commercialism, and maintaining one's integrity when dealing with issues affecting women's health and safety). However, I became increasingly annoyed at the endless plot twists, the unnecessary inclusion of the Bovary client and Los Angeles section (the book could have ended 50 pages earlier), then the new company which, I suppose, was the straw that broke Girl's back, but the twist was not very exciting anymore. I just wanted it to end. And so I sped read through the last ten pages.
I've collected all of LdB's books thus far, so I'm looking forward to reading his latest, even if the reviews weren't as good as Corelli's Mandolin. I miss his prose as well as Vikram Seth and Michael Ondaatje. I hope all three authors continue to write, reviewers bedamned.
Starve a cold? Feed a fever?
I am officially in a cold funk. I had a "sipon" (drippy nose) last friday, which disappeared Saturday, only to return full force on Sunday, and now on Monday I am forced to keep blowing, occasionally yawning as my right ear clogs up from the pressure. Urgh. I hate colds, hate being sick. I'd like to be sick if I were in some luxury spa, pampered by attendants feeding me stuff, fanning me, bringing me books, tea, a cookie or so, then off to the massages for a toxin-reducing session. Repeat. But no, I'm here at work, trying to figure out how to send a million emails while my head feels like a clogged drain.
Last night I made the mistake of staying on at the Greenhills Shopping Center after my hour at the gym. I went to Bizu for a late breakfast of eggs benedict (the waitress kept on saying "what? what?" when I said eggs benedict. I had to point it out on the menu before she understood. Good heavens, don't they teach their waitresses how to read the menu?), a large pot of tea, and then succumbed to getting three of the macaroons: chocolate (rating 8 out of 10), vanilla (5 out of 10), and rose (for color - a 9, taste a 7.5). I will definitely get more. After my meal, I looked for a cab, and kept looking. After one turn around the entire mall, with a few stops at possible taxi lines, I gave up and called in a taxi service, extra cost bedamned. If I go back, I'm going to have to make sure to bring my sneakers so I can just walk back. The aggravation would kill me if I let it. As it is my cold may be the result of my having inhaled too many fumes looking for a taxi.
Hooray! I've just found my stash of Vicks Vaporub. There's nothing like a dab of VV to get my sinuses flowing. I feel less stuffed up already.
Last night I made the mistake of staying on at the Greenhills Shopping Center after my hour at the gym. I went to Bizu for a late breakfast of eggs benedict (the waitress kept on saying "what? what?" when I said eggs benedict. I had to point it out on the menu before she understood. Good heavens, don't they teach their waitresses how to read the menu?), a large pot of tea, and then succumbed to getting three of the macaroons: chocolate (rating 8 out of 10), vanilla (5 out of 10), and rose (for color - a 9, taste a 7.5). I will definitely get more. After my meal, I looked for a cab, and kept looking. After one turn around the entire mall, with a few stops at possible taxi lines, I gave up and called in a taxi service, extra cost bedamned. If I go back, I'm going to have to make sure to bring my sneakers so I can just walk back. The aggravation would kill me if I let it. As it is my cold may be the result of my having inhaled too many fumes looking for a taxi.
Hooray! I've just found my stash of Vicks Vaporub. There's nothing like a dab of VV to get my sinuses flowing. I feel less stuffed up already.
Friday, December 02, 2005
Friday, bloody Friday
Wow, a second post in two days, that's a record for me. But I find myself with time on my hands (even though I have a lot of emailing to do) and a runny nose, good enough reasons to blog.
I got a phone call/Skype yesterday from friends in Moscow. Let me clarify that, a chinese guy, a lebanese girl, a bolivian fellow, and an american chick, hosted by a belarussian called me from Moscow. I like that. The corners of the world together in one spot. So I was meant to be with them, but one thing or another kept me from going. We planned to Skype and it worked. So I had this lovely call session from them and missed them a lot. Frank was just being his normal hyper self and kept interrupting (grr Frank, let a girl get a word edgewise), even when we had a sidenote talk about books on my reading shelf.
Last night, I accompanied Alen to the cocktail reception of the condominium developers with whom he's invested. So-so food, and we made fun of the poor lady doing the singing. She had a nice voice, but no charisma, no style. The organizers were one step up from those time-share salespeople I had the misfortune to deal with some years back. Ah well, made me rethink any plans of buying an apartment.
The apartments that I do want, but can't buy, although renting is a possibility are in Malate. Lovely spaces, with big windows and so much potential. Drool, drool, drool. sigh.
Right, can't get ahold of the mattress buyer that cousin C told me about, so I'm going to have to bite the bullet and get the mattress from SM. My back can't take anymore of the futon.
I got a phone call/Skype yesterday from friends in Moscow. Let me clarify that, a chinese guy, a lebanese girl, a bolivian fellow, and an american chick, hosted by a belarussian called me from Moscow. I like that. The corners of the world together in one spot. So I was meant to be with them, but one thing or another kept me from going. We planned to Skype and it worked. So I had this lovely call session from them and missed them a lot. Frank was just being his normal hyper self and kept interrupting (grr Frank, let a girl get a word edgewise), even when we had a sidenote talk about books on my reading shelf.
Last night, I accompanied Alen to the cocktail reception of the condominium developers with whom he's invested. So-so food, and we made fun of the poor lady doing the singing. She had a nice voice, but no charisma, no style. The organizers were one step up from those time-share salespeople I had the misfortune to deal with some years back. Ah well, made me rethink any plans of buying an apartment.
The apartments that I do want, but can't buy, although renting is a possibility are in Malate. Lovely spaces, with big windows and so much potential. Drool, drool, drool. sigh.
Right, can't get ahold of the mattress buyer that cousin C told me about, so I'm going to have to bite the bullet and get the mattress from SM. My back can't take anymore of the futon.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
12 o'clock, time to get up
My boss has this annoying alarm clock that goes off a few minutes before noon, and while it probably wouldn't matter if she'd just turn the bloody thing off, she lets it run through for a minute. Meaning that people who are irritated by the sound have to smile and pretend it's not a problem. I am irritated by it, and I have to smile through it, while dreaming of taking a hammer to the pesky clock.
One of the books I'm midway through (along with 20 other books I've bought over the last few months and due to my move have been buried under all the other books I bought over the years, some I am re-reading again. Whew long run-on sentence.) is HOW TO BE IDLE, a very nice book about being lazy. Although the author does come up with some valid reasons not to be part of the mindless wheel of commerce, like some vapid rabbit, or white mouse, or maybe a guinea pig. All of the latter are not part of my "pet of the year" choices either. The first chapter of HOW TO is all about the alarm clock and how it's bad for our health. That being a slave to the clock is just a precursor to a heart attack. Yeah, totally agree! That's why it takes two alarms to get me up in the morning. Yoiks!
I signed up for an 8-week weight management program. Each Tuesday I meet with the trainer and go over my food intake, how much gym time I've put in, and my overall sense of wellbeing. One week into it and I'm sooooo craving bad foods. This is the first formal program where I have to monitor my food and stuff. The few weeks I met with a nutritionist don't count, nor the few months when I actively tried to do a regiment of weight training along with cardiovascular exercise. I'm even getting body fat (eeks) readings and measurements. Makes me grouchy just thinking about it. But persevere! Only 6 weeks and 4 days left. Plus I want to push my boundaries and show myself that I can get past my plateau. I've been at the same weight since college for pete's sake! My college clothes still fit me, which is a good thing since I'm not a big shop-a-holic. I just fix the holes that wear away into the general fabric. No really, I'm not that much of boston brahmin to hold onto college sweats for 10 years. But my clothes size has.not.changed. And that's a bad thing. So revving up my metabolism for 8 weeks will be a start. Then I'll take on my inner demons and actually get to do a marathon next year. I put it on this blog earlier, and I will see it through. And then I'll learn how to ride a bike without killing myself. Gosh. Maybe even get back behind the wheel of a car and drive around Manila without killing anyone or having a stroke from wanting to atomize all the jeepney drivers.
Now, off to my salad lunch. Where is that hammer?
One of the books I'm midway through (along with 20 other books I've bought over the last few months and due to my move have been buried under all the other books I bought over the years, some I am re-reading again. Whew long run-on sentence.) is HOW TO BE IDLE, a very nice book about being lazy. Although the author does come up with some valid reasons not to be part of the mindless wheel of commerce, like some vapid rabbit, or white mouse, or maybe a guinea pig. All of the latter are not part of my "pet of the year" choices either. The first chapter of HOW TO is all about the alarm clock and how it's bad for our health. That being a slave to the clock is just a precursor to a heart attack. Yeah, totally agree! That's why it takes two alarms to get me up in the morning. Yoiks!
I signed up for an 8-week weight management program. Each Tuesday I meet with the trainer and go over my food intake, how much gym time I've put in, and my overall sense of wellbeing. One week into it and I'm sooooo craving bad foods. This is the first formal program where I have to monitor my food and stuff. The few weeks I met with a nutritionist don't count, nor the few months when I actively tried to do a regiment of weight training along with cardiovascular exercise. I'm even getting body fat (eeks) readings and measurements. Makes me grouchy just thinking about it. But persevere! Only 6 weeks and 4 days left. Plus I want to push my boundaries and show myself that I can get past my plateau. I've been at the same weight since college for pete's sake! My college clothes still fit me, which is a good thing since I'm not a big shop-a-holic. I just fix the holes that wear away into the general fabric. No really, I'm not that much of boston brahmin to hold onto college sweats for 10 years. But my clothes size has.not.changed. And that's a bad thing. So revving up my metabolism for 8 weeks will be a start. Then I'll take on my inner demons and actually get to do a marathon next year. I put it on this blog earlier, and I will see it through. And then I'll learn how to ride a bike without killing myself. Gosh. Maybe even get back behind the wheel of a car and drive around Manila without killing anyone or having a stroke from wanting to atomize all the jeepney drivers.
Now, off to my salad lunch. Where is that hammer?
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Cashews and Durian chips
I had to stop by Market!Market and found that there's a whole new wing I hadn't seen before. There are signs for a new Korean market, and potted plants are on sale. A whole row of food carts are also up selling packaged chichiriya (snacks and other miscellaneous food products), sausages, peeled chestnuts, and assorted Asian edibles. One of the food carts sells Thai munchies, under the brand Aloi. What that means is a mystery to me, I should probably ask my Thai friends if that word means anything. Aloi has several outlets in different malls, usually near the movie theaters for those of us who don't think popcorn is the end all and be all of movie snacks. I'm particularly addicted to the durian chips (doesn't have the pungency of fresh durian, and may seemingly be healthier than potato chips...not) and their roasted bangkok cashews.
Nuts are great snacks. I'm a long time fan of boiled peanuts, roasted almonds (ooh, the ones in the States that are soy flavored are wonderful), macadamias, and nuts in chocolate are great. Cashews can be difficult to get, good ones, not the burnt to a mealy crisp or somewhat rancid tasting. So I've been happy with the quality, size and flavor of the Aloi cashews. The few times I buy them, they taste fresh, are of uniform size and color, and aren't heavily salted.
Aloi sells their nuts, candies and other items by the 100g, and they're not the cheapest, but at least I don't have too many surprises eating their stuff.
Nuts are great snacks. I'm a long time fan of boiled peanuts, roasted almonds (ooh, the ones in the States that are soy flavored are wonderful), macadamias, and nuts in chocolate are great. Cashews can be difficult to get, good ones, not the burnt to a mealy crisp or somewhat rancid tasting. So I've been happy with the quality, size and flavor of the Aloi cashews. The few times I buy them, they taste fresh, are of uniform size and color, and aren't heavily salted.
Aloi sells their nuts, candies and other items by the 100g, and they're not the cheapest, but at least I don't have too many surprises eating their stuff.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Thy name is procrastination
I have 5 major, urgent, must-do things to complete this week. They were all due last week or earlier. One includes paying a rather important bill. Hi, I'm a procrastinator.
It's been my weakest link since childhood, the ability to push the limits of my deadlines and pay by dates. Is it a vice? Or is there some latent underlying problem that creates this endless lateness? I hate it, I know it, I can do something about it, but it's there.
I even procrastinate writing in this blog, but at least it's not an urgent matter. The bills however, are another matter altogether.
It's been my weakest link since childhood, the ability to push the limits of my deadlines and pay by dates. Is it a vice? Or is there some latent underlying problem that creates this endless lateness? I hate it, I know it, I can do something about it, but it's there.
I even procrastinate writing in this blog, but at least it's not an urgent matter. The bills however, are another matter altogether.
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