Robert Altman, RIP

"Robert Altman, Iconoclastic Director, Dies at 81

By RICK LYMAN

Robert Altman, one of the most adventurous and influential American directors of the late 20th century, a filmmaker whose iconoclastic career spanned more than five decades but whose stamp was felt most forcefully in one, the 1970s, died Monday in Los Angeles. He was 81." New York Times, November 21, 2006

Short cuts was a better film than Crash. And I enjoyed Gosford Park very much. Suddenly have the urge to go find my copy of Nashville and Mash.

Brunch part one

There are a few options for a brunch body like me in Manila. The endless hotel buffets are one option, but they tend to be too big, too heavy, too long, too pricey, too too. And as one friend said in passing, she's not into having sushi for breakfast.

The few places that friends have suggested in the past include Lumiere, the M Cafe, and Sala. Over the last two weeks, I've had brunch at 2 of the 3. I will leave my reviews till I complete the triad.

However, here's something to say about the amount of alcohol imbibed at brunch. If some people feel that sushi or lamb chops are not standard breakfast fare (and I have more to say about that below), what about all the alcohol these brunches encourage one to have? At one of the three brunch houses above, the meal comes with a choice of champagne, mimosa or coffee/tea. The other place we had brunch has a limitless champagne selection (our group topped off at 8 rounds of champagne), with choices of cassis, peach or orange infusions. My favorite was the peach.

I'm not sure I agree with drinking all that much at such an early hour. It makes me feel a bit like a lush. And with the lack of the alcohol digestive enzyme inherent in Asians, a glass or two of champagne is enough to make me feel unpleasantly hazy the rest of the day.

Finally, the different opinions on what to expect on a breakfast platter. Growing up in Asia, you get used to having a motley selection of food: western eggs/bacon/pancakes, continental bread and butter, filipino toci/longsi/tapa-log with the necessary garlic rice, or a more chinese inspired dimsum selection or a bowl of congee with pickles. I say, diversity is good for the soul! I'm willing to go from a bowl of hot chocolate with a piece of fruit one day, to fried fish and rice the next. I'll even have oatmeal in all different styles, plain, with fruit, mixed with cinnamon, loaded with nutella, dried in a muesli with yogurt. I hate sticking to one format all the time. The colors, smells, textures, are what make breakfast a fun meal. Whoever said breakfast was boring hasn't lived right. And from the nutritional pov, we should have breakfast, a well balanced one that lets us work long and hard till the sun is high up in the sky when we break for another lovely meal. If I had a legion of maids at my beck and call, breakfast would be the only meal I'd demand from them: a smorgasbord of meats, sweets, breads, and liquids (the champagne can be for a birthday breakfast). What a glorious way to begin each day.

Card begone

Using part of the severance pay received from last job, I plunked a good portion into paying off my credit card bills. Years of accumulating debt, paid at last. And given the advise from the venerable Marketman re: the risks of identity theft and loss of credit card on the part of the consumer (check out his posts re: shittybank), I decided to make the most of my new freedom and cut up the cards. We don't have credit history in this country. Makes no sense to have P200,000 or more on one's card when it's not even helping us get loans or improve our standing with the banking system. All it does for me is make me think I have money when I don't.

Ruffled Bonds

Over lunch, my friend J and I argue over the merits of femininity and masculinity in ourselves. He says that some of his women friends, including me, have stronger "inner stud" qualities, which overpower our girliness. We think more like men than he does, which sometimes scares off prospective lifemates. He suggests I have a make-over. I point out that as of last Saturday, I am now the owner of ruffled frocks.

Last weekend, needing new clothes, and having some excess funds to squander, I went off to the bazaars and the mall to find something new. My intention was to find some good pants, mostly for work; so many of my pants now are in a state of disrepair. Lining's have started to fray, the fit is starting to look off, and I am bored with the clothes. However, I only found one pair of pants that I liked enough to buy (thanks Marks and Sparks), but I did find 3 dresses at K&Co that I decided to splurge on. The strange thing was that all three had ruffled. Like lacy bits, I've never been into ruffles (except in potato chips), they always seemed like a waste of textile. Plus I had it in my head that ruffles would just add to my avoirdupois. But these three dresses weren't overly ruffly, pardon my terminilogy, and given the streamlined fit and mostly one color context, the ruffles are mere accents. Like most of the other K&Co dresses I've gotten, they're wrap jersey pieces, good travel clothes that don't make life difficult. My pragmatic side to the rescue as J would see it.

The other argument we had was over new Bond, Daniel Craig, and another sexy Brit, Jason Stratham (spelling?). I got to see Casino Royale last Saturday and suggested J watch it. He said he wasn't too keen on the new Bond actor as he had hoped Jason would get the role. We broke it down into components: DC is plug ugly, has a good body, and an amazing voice (speaking). JS has an amazing body, is bald (which J thinks is a negative, but there are a lot of women who see it otherwise), and is Cockney. From one straight woman's perspective, I prefer DC over JS, based on his diction and voice quality; that voice is sexy, plain and simple, I'd forgive any man innumerable sins if he spoke with that timber and accent. JS reminds me of the soccer hooligans, and that is a turnoff. J thinks I'm crazy. Different strokes...

Losing my custom

I know it's the christmas season and the store clerks are going to go insane with dealing with clients. I know that when you're the newest place to go, be seen, you tend to feel like the world is your oyster and who gives a flying leap how poorly you treat your customers. I know that Filipinos, in general, don't complain when treated poorly so we tend to be quiet when in reality, we're seething inside and want to take that stupid plate and knock it on the head of the inanimate creature manning the cashier.

Poor service is going to be the death of a certain "in" dessert place, that just opened and is receiving a lot of press. The owner needs to step up to the plate and fix the extremely rude service agents manning the counter, the lack of a system handling customer orders, and should professionalize the manner of addressing what the customers want. It doesn't take a genius to serve, but it requires a lot of energy and efficiency. Clearcut signs and people who smile even when they feel like collapsing. And an owner that won't sit behind the counter with her back to her irate customers while her people unsmilingly deal with the mess. I won't be going back. Once is enough for me; the desserts are not a high priority item, especially in a city where I know better options that don't come with the aggravation of going through another 20 minute wait to get 4 items.

The gods must have been listening

I started the day in a complete funk, the weather was and remains gloomy guts, my legs have been aching (and not in a just worked out and feeling strong way, more just aching and annoying), and the sense of doing absolutely nothing gripped me. I was enthralled with wallowing in malaise. All the news I read was medically related, both good and bad. I learned that my way of dealing with this cough, which I suspect to be acute bronchitis, is in line with what the research says. Rest and fluids are the best. Medication doesn't do much good. It will go away after a few days or weeks.

One of my favorite bloggers, Lori, wrote up a post on Krispy Kremes and her pictures, never fails, made me salivate. Good thing I read it before lunch, so I could think of something to have to satiate my hunger pangs. However, dealing with the bank stole my appetite away and I found myself back at the office unnourished, and rankled by the atrocious interest rates. Walking down the corridor, I came across one of my workmates carrying two familiar looking boxes. She called out that she got two boxes of Krispy Kreme donuts and if anyone wanted one they'd be at the lounge. We swooped in and had our first Manila original glaze. They were just right, hit that sugar spot; never thought I'd say this but I needed that combination of sugar, fat, formed into a fried glazed disk of joy. Close to perfect, all it needed was to be fresh from the glazing conveyor, partnered with a cup of freshly brewed cup of coffee, and I would be transported. As it is, it gave me a needed push to get through the day!

Early Christmas

Dear Santa,
Ho ho ho, what a lovely feeling you must get each year! People are happy when you've come for a visit and they wish they could throw their arms around you for a hug around that belly of jelly of yours. Yesterday, I felt just like you. I was dressed in more casual gear, and the weather was oppressively tropical; but I truly had that ripple of christmas love and joy for my fellow man, or in this case sister and brother-in-law.

A friend, B, was selling an item that he and his wife had purchased this June. A large, professional grill from Jenn-Air, built like a tank, shiny, untouched by meat or grease, not a scratch, dent, suspicious rust spot. It's got grills that weigh a ton, with hoses to attach to tanks of your choice of combustible fuel. B and K thought they'd be able to use it in their building, but found that there were fire hazards involved in grilling on their tiny balcony. I knew I'd never want one for myself, but it dawned on me that my sister and her brood would enjoy something like it for the holidays. The more I thought about it, the more the idea caught on. When I saw the photo of the grill, I knew that it was the right thing to do.

Yesterday, I got to see it before me. We unwrapped it and loaded it in the truck, drove across town and situated it near the garden. After a few minutes of attaching the side panels, there it stood, a proud silver steel monster ready to spew 40,000 btus of heat (once the tanks are attached). As my sibling was away from home, I went off to mine, slipping away like you, Santa.

A few hours later, she and her family call, and they were truly happily surprised, thrilled, and even affected by its beauty. It was hard not to share their joy. It was only natural that we began planning dinners, parties, celebrations, all with a grilling theme. We've decided that my nephew can begin his training to be the next Bobby Flay (a chubbier, chinese looking BF, sans the cocky attitude). Boy meets Jenn-Air.

It's a bit early to enjoy Christmas perhaps. On the other hand, I'm inundated with materialistic christmas imagery and this was a nice way to relieve myself of that stress. Giving is a great feeling, especially when it happens early.

Happy holidays from me.

Week 9

If there was a worse week to start a new exercise plan, the last 7 days were it. After getting my start all shipshape, I pick up not one but what felt like two fevers/sore throats, and the latter still lingers in the form of a chest racking cough (the only good thing is that all this coughing is good for the abdominal muscles, like mini-ab workouts with every hack). It has definitely screwed up my schedule, and I only hope that my lack of appetite meant some weight loss, even if it's the worse kind.

My trainer nutritionist will be seeing me today for a long-delayed follow up meeting. I will sheepishly have to admit that I've not been in the gym, and that the Polar Heartrate monitor's diary is glaringly empty. Aiyayayay.

On the other hand, this is merely a delayed start. And I wouldn't be me if I didn't procrastinate a bit.

10 weeks

Out of the 12 months of the year, November and December are fraught with temptation. Parties, bazaars, the social gatherings all lead to weight gain and credit card debt. While I firmly believe that I will be over the latter by the end of the year (and am mentally prepared for the sacrifice of giving up a great deal of credit by cutting up my cards), the former has always been a challenge. Growing up chubby, staying this way all through my adult life hasn't taken a major toll unlike the stories I read and see everyday on television or in magazines. I prefer to see food as a good thing, not the enemy. But I am notoriously lazy, and the gym is high on the list of places I'd prefer to avoid as much as possible.

However, last year I attempted to restrain myself by signing up for a weight management program at the gym. Nothing too fancy, simply met up with a nutritionist for 10 weeks and regular monitoring of my food intake alongside with exercise; I lost 9 lbs. Not bad, I figured, and attempted to sustain the effort sans support, which finds me back at the original weight I had last year. So this year, I've talked to the same trainer, she's agreed to be a bit stricter with me, plus I've signed up with a personal trainer for weight training. My goal is 15 lbs in 10 weeks, right in the middle of the fiesta season. Lordy me, am I insane?

I do think it's doable; by posting it on the blog, I plan to do a weekly update. No pictures necessary, no before and after, and what would be the point of lying to myself on the blog? Other people have used their blogs as a form of exercise/diet journaling. This will just be another facet of this medium for me.

Food reunion

Following last year's somewhat intimate gathering at Galileo Enoteca, blogger supremo Marketman pulled together another friendly food gathering at Gourdo's, Fort Bonifacio last Saturday. Over 70 food fans of his blog met up for a buffet meal, and they brought/bought/made from scratch a dessert buffet that would beat any hotel dessert buffet in town. Chef Chris did himself proud by serving a wonderful italian menu (bruschettas, pastas, roast pork loin, fire roasted pizzas). And Marketman was ably helped by family, staff and the general joie de vivre we were looking forward to.

As other bloggers will post pictures and their own comments, this is merely to enumerate my own favorite moments:
- meeting other people who read the MM blog, and who also enjoy a good meal. As the post title implies, a good number of the people at last year's EB managed to make it this year; it's always fun to see familiar faces, but it was just as fun to meet new folks too.
- it was amusing to meet Aidan, son of blogger Anton (Awesome Planet). Aidan's the poster boy of AP, so those of us who read AP immediately knew who he was. His father was a bit less familiar since Anton is rarely photographed, but is the man of many words. He and his charming wife were just as interesting and fun. I hope to make their better acquaintance.
- Catching up on news with fellow chinoys Ivan and Anson, the latter gave us a few more restaurant tips (got to try that Korean restaurant at the Phil. Film Center)
- Appropriating my share of the budbud kabog giveaway (I think I like the budbud more than the ensymada), given the backstory (see Marketman)
- hearing about N. Abueva's jail time and the S&R letter to MM
- desserts, desserts, desserts - my favorite was Joey's (homemade!) dark chocolate cake. Divine! In terms of prettiest dessert, the flower cake by Marta Matute probably wins hands down. Alicia's peanut butter chocolate chip cookies were great, chunky, flavorful and full of homemade love.

A genial community of people brought together by their love of food, talk, travel, and all the good things in life.

Segundo Monday

I sat with 6 other ladies, and one fellow, over dinner Monday at Segundo Piso, the restaurant on the second floor of Terry's Selection along Pasong Tamo. Having dealt with the business side of the meeting, we were ready to eat, drink, be merry. How merry, I didn't realize until much later, but all in good, healthy, and legal fun. Perhaps it was M's batgirl ears/wings that she sported on her head (the day before Halloween), or the fact that the pianist was playing such classic tunes right next to us; soon enough we were humming along, which progressed to filling in the lyrics and playing "name that tune". From ballads to broadway, we kept going all through dinner, the wines didn't have to help us, we were just in the mood to sing for our dinner.

As for dinner, here's a sampling of what we had:

Appetizers: an assortment of "fried tapas" (olives, bacalao)
Soup: baked seafood bisque
Pasta: Penne with a saffron and caviar sauce with two cheeses (very good, but much too heavy after the seafood bisque)
Main: choice of meat or fish (I chose the meat, the fish was better)
Dessert: a layered chocolate and nougat cake with mandarin orange sauce (lovely combination)

We had 2 sherries, a white wine and a red wine. With the exception of one sherry, which tasted like a chinese medicine cabinet, the wines were marvelous, and I had dreams of the white wine, its white pepper nose and citrus tones. A must buy.

If only we had been colonized after 1700...

An article on Slate describes the research done on several islands in the Pacific and Atlantic re: effects of colonization by European explorers (income growth, quality of life). What we may surmise from the research is that the Philippines got shafted. We were colonized by the Spaniards (who rank in the bottom rung of colonial masters, along with the Portugese), and were taken over before the Post-Enlightenment phase, when scientific discovery was more important than theocracy. However, one insight had me a bit amused: US colonies had a higher quality of life than most other establishments. So where the heck did they go wrong with us?

Stalking the mouse

Hong Kong Disneyland has an ad running on some of the cable channels. Girl goes to the park, does some of the rides (the lamest ones around - tea cup? carousel???), and is stalked by her friendly neighborhood boy, who finds a way to stay in the background and keeps tabs on her throughout the park. Eventually they end up on the MRT back to town, silently gazing at their picture. Saccharine sweet, and honestly, it doesn't lure me into wanting to go to HKD. If they used this ad during Valentine's I could see the connection.

During my short stint in HK, the issue of stalkers, molesters, and all sorts of deviants would show up on a regular basis in the weekly papers and magazines. Men who'd put cameras or mirrors on their shoes so they could stand behind a girl in a skirt and look at what color her panties were, groping on the subway, exposing themselves to kids in the parks. Personally, the only time I had to deal with weirdoes in HK was being accosted by drunken American sailors in the bus depot in Admiralty. And there was that lech who tried to pinch my bum in the library. But you could still ask me what the safest city I've ever wandered around, and it would be HK. Try walking from Central to Causeway Bay at 3 a.m. and see if anything untoward happens. Not unless you ask for it! And it's a free sight, smell and sound spectacular, unlike the outrageous prices at Disneyland.

Chinese Hamlet

I dragged my cousin out for a movie yesterday afternoon. While she may have planned on watching Demi's husband battling his way through coast guard training, I was more inclined to see the recent Chinese film, so we ended up at the Banquet. Freezing inside the cinema, the movie didn't warm us up much. Zhang Ziyi doesn't seem to be ready to play a role that is too "mature" for her, and with little opportunity to show off her martial arts/ballet kinetics. The Empress/Gertrude isn't meant to be an ingenue, and the essence of her passion with both Wu Luan/Hamlet contradicts her submission to the Uncle-cum usurper Emperor/Claudius role. I preferred her antipathy towards Qing/Ophelia as they battle their way into the young prince's affection.

At least the role of the prince, who is seen as an emotional, soulful sort who likes to have his hair washed more than he massacres his enemies, seems more akin to the pansy Hamlet of yore. He doesn't do a good job saving himself, but does a better job creating havoc in other people's lives, especially Qing. The perfect foil to him is the ultra-macho Governor Yin, brother of Qing, who saves Wu Luan from another assasination in the middle of the film. They all fall in the end, and the twist (although it's not completely clear what the end means) is that the Empress, too, falls to the sword. Who was it? Ghost of her late first husband? Or simply her going insane?

And what of all the tears? Does one really need to see every sniffle, red eye, stuffed up nose to know that the character is undergoing emotional distress? Are Asian actors' eyes too small that they must leak fluid?

I had thought this film was going to be another collaboration with Zhang and Chow Yun Fat, who might have given the role of Claudius some sex appeal. I just kept thinking how they vamped up the production value in one of the television mini-series and that it wasn't much fun to watch on the big screen. Ho hum, 2 out of 5 and not worth paying P160.00.

Intervention

Don't use the excuse that Manila is a big city. Don't come to me and say that you can't attend something because it's not in your part of town. Don't say that it's impossible to find someplace because the street signs aren't in place. Don't give me that line about bad directions. You were born and raised here, you can find it. Your not incapable of finding something if you really want it. Don't call me and go hysterical because you're feeling stupid. You were smart enough to pass the bar exam, you can find an address.
How are you going to manage when you leave for the US? Are you going to need hand holding even then? It aggravates me when you play the homely housewife giving in to her husband's demands because you think it will make him love you more. Stop pretending to be a doormat, it's a horrible personality flaw. Because I know you are better than that, and I believe in you.

Smells of leather

Imagine going from one place where you were one of 10, knew everyone's foibles, whimsies, stress points, and patterns. Then the next day, you were thrust into a place where you are in charge of 40 people, plus you need to know the names of 40 to 50 more people, and there are all sort of short folk dashing in and out of the area, with nary a care (since they have other older, bigger, people to do that for them). From your own small office where you can close the door for private conversations, you have a shared space, with a hole in the wall for the other people to poke their heads through when necessary. Where everything is new, smells new, even the chair doesn't conform to one's butt yet.

Culture shock in my own backyard is what it is. This calls for ice cream therapy!

Munich 2005

I went to Munich last year to attend a wedding and came back full of a new picture in my head of what Germany had to offer. What a wonderful city Munich is, how compact the city center, yet a sprawling metropolis dedicated to its residents, who live in a mixture of Edwardian townhouses turned apartments or modern block flats that don’t necessarily lose their charm. The neighborhoods are easily navigated on foot, even with the predominant presence of those German car brands. At first glance the subway may seem intimidating, yet after a long hard look, you get a sense of how the lines were built, expanding and stretching its reach all the way out to the towns, North, South, East and West.

Many days were spent absorbing the artistic beauty of the museums and artists who used the city as their canvass. I’d always had a fondness for Rubens, and found myself in front of one of the largest collections of his works in the “Old Museum” (Alte Pinakothek). His works had a robust, sensual nature lacking in modern art. Now I know why I am enamored with the earth mother form he captured; I can say that I’d fit in that period very well without feeling corporeally out of place.

The modern masters are also easily visible in Munich, the Neue Pinakothek and Moderne Pinakotheks are chock full of paintings, art forms, and technology (like cars) that represent their eras. The collection of Bleue Reiters at the L---- Museum taught me a great deal about the 20th century works of Kandinsky and Klee.

Picture perfect castles are strewn around the Bavarian region, especially Schloss Neuschwanstein, the tragic fairytale castle of King Ludwig the 2nd. The experience of visiting the castle reminded me of the throng at the Great Wall, particularly Badaling. All it needed was some guy dressed as Ludwig II, letting pictures be taken of him in his garb to set it off. Luckily the beautiful weather made up for a three kilometer parking nightmare heading towards the castle. We found an open field available for parking and hoofed it through country paths to the ticket area, before another 30-minute climb up to the castle. The world was milling around, eating, drinking, taking enough photographs of the castle and the Arcadian environment to fill hours of snooze-filled slide shows. Inside the castles and museums, tourists aren’t allowed to take flash photography as it may damage the artwork. I wonder why nature doesn’t take similar offence to all the photos taken of her in multitudes of forms? Many of us don’t take very good photos of Mother Nature at her best, yet here we are investing in high end cameras and mucking about with them adding to the detritus of photography.

The other architectural wonders around the city and all over Bavaria, it seems, were the lavish churches built to honor the Catholic saints and images of the Virgin. Since I was in Germany at the time of the World Youth Day Celebration (although the Pope was in Cologne and not in Munich), it seemed fitting that I take a tour of the churches. My favorites were the rococo gone amok Asam Kirche and the Weis Kirche. The latter took us several hours to find as there are a few Weis towns around, quite a Bavarian road trip it was. We managed to squeeze in before the doors closed and it was a worthwhile hunt and trek. The other churches were far more modest than these two in terms of internal décor, but were larger and statelier or housed more royal bodies (the Theatinerkirche has the bodies of King or Emperor Maximilian the 2nd and some of his family members. Ludwig the 2nd is ensconced in perpetua at the Church of St. Michaels.).

The wedding itself went off without a hitch inside a beautiful baroque chapel 30 minutes outside of the city. The solemnity was in sheer contrast to all the drinking that took place at the reception in a greenhouse altered for events like this. Perhaps the city didn't want to let go right away, as I missed my flight to Amsterdam the next day, and had to take a later flight back to Asia. I'll have reason to return one day, for more visual art and baroque splendor.

123, 5, 3

Along with other bloggers, I got tagged by Christine of Ramblings from a Gypsy Soul. The meme requires one to:

1. Grab the book nearest to you...no cheating!
2. Open to page 123.
3. Scroll down to the fifth sentence.
4. Post text of next 3 sentences on to your blog.

The first book I saw was a selection of writings and drawings by James Thurber. And the first thing I thought as I opened the book was "hope it's not the drawings," sure enough turning to page 123 is a set of two of his sketches! Ok, so adjusting the meme instructions a bit, I'm grabbing the next book on my work pile.

From "Why do I love these people?" by Po Bronson:

"She is back to being a daughter, contemplating her mother. I notice that when Jarralynne remembers with her family all around, there's a sort of safety in numbers, and she manages to laugh at all the old stories."

The book is the second of Bronson's I've read, the first remains my favorite "What should I do with my life?"

"Why do I love..." is another series of vignettes about people Mr. Bronson has interviewed, focusing on their families and relationships. I enjoyed his other book so much that I bought two signed copies of "why do I love..." from Powell's online store. I may give the other copy to my sister, as I had planned to do last year when I bought the book. Or if anyone is interested in a first edition signed copy, tell me what you would do with your life. The best response gets the book.

Cleaning house part 1

I have 5 days left to get rid of 6 years of paperwork and assorted sundries. Shredding documents with student information on it that can't just be tossed in a dumpster, deciding what stays and what isn't important anymore, plus tidying up for the move to a new office.

Came across a few pictures from conferences and trips. And in one of the drawers a menu from a dinner I attended last year prepared by Chefs Carlo and Anton Miguel, now of Mezzaluna:

Canapes - Coriander and lime crab cakes
Seared foie gras and caramelized pear en croute
(wine: Conundrum 2002. I remember falling in love with this wine and buying a few bottles after the dinner)

Fish course - Crisp skin coral trout with braised celery and tomato saffron broth

Plum and gin granita

Main - Ilog maria virgin honey cured duck breast with beetroot custard, sauteed spinach and pickled orange (wine: reserve de la comtesse 2001 pauillac.)

Dessert - mascarpone semifreddo and balsamic macerated strawberry mille feuille

This dinner ended with sips of the most amazing rum from Barbados. Mindblowing memories.

3 strikes on a Monday

My lucky charm kept me safe through the storm, I was stuck in the office watching the city blow by, and even when we ventured out later that day, the floods had receded enough, no traffic hold up, and I saved two workmates from slogging it out with the thousands stranded on the street.

Friday, Saturday and Sunday, the days went by without too much trouble. Saw friends, heard their woes, one friend lost all of his books in a flashflood (I feel for him), another's sister seems to be battling dengue so she's been hospitalized, while another friend was attacked by hordes of mosquitoes on Thursday night so I passed on a tube of anti-itch creme, plus any support I could provide. My cousin texted me asking for help finding an apartment (I suspect her mom's giving her grief). Good samaritan all throughout.

This morning though, lady luck decided to leave me on my own. I have an early morning accident (nothing bad, but cleaning up at 3 a.m. is so unpleasant); my cellphone goes missing right as I'm about to leave for the gym (I suspect it's still in my room; leaving it on silent mode sometimes is a bummer); the living room curtain decides to collapse and my driver couldn't fix it in time; and the last straw was spending 15 frustrating minutes trying to refit the lens on my glasses which decides to pop out while I'm toweling off in the shower.

Monday, monday, this is my silent scream.