Puerto Princessa, April 22, 2006. Weather - sunny, hot, too hot to stay outside.
We've arrived, waiting for the ship to cast off later tonight. A briefing at 6 will establish rules, regs, blah blah.
Am in room B4, Oceanic Explorer. I don't like the room much, prefer the rooms on the other side of the ship. This room is tiny, smells of gasoline (bought baking soda to absorb the smells), and I saw a roach. Bought Raid to kill roaches.
Doing email and blogging, too hot to go outside. May stop by Chowking for a halohalo before returning to the ship. Looking forward to the dives, although can't be certain that I can do all 19 dives. Will aim for a minimum of 4 dives a day though.
Received a heartfelt and passionate plea from S to meet in June. We'll see.
Won't have email for the next 5 days. Thank goodness. No cell coverage either. Must rely on my own resources and sleep. This will be a restful trip.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Friday, April 21, 2006
Will the second time be as charming?
I look at diving as one of my primary hobbies. I don't have too many vices, don't spend too much money on clothes and looking pretty. Diving is not cheap, and much of my savings gets siphoned off by paying for a trip or two. The equipment is an investment. I bought my suit, fins and other gear at the beginning and take care of them. I haven't had to replace any of them, although my short suit is languishing in the bathroom. I should sell it and use the money to pay for a trip!
One of the top ten dive sites in the country is Tubbataha. Better writers and photographers than I have written about the site/s, which is actually a set of dive sites located in the middle of the Sulu Sea. Among local and other international divers, Tubbataha is an ecological paradise, hard to reach, only dive-able for 4 months of the year. It has the blessings of many international environmental organizations, and part of the sustainable development there is covered by the WWF (not the wrestling silly-heads, but the group with the panda logo). Personally, my favorite part of the dives there is the presence of sharks and turtles.
The first Tubbataha trip I went on was in 2004. We had a small group of divers, many of them I met on the boat. We had a good divemaster who had amazing underwater vision, and could distinguish the smallest creatures and sight the big fish hundred of meters away. Our dives were punctuated by excitement over whale sharks, mantas, and lots of sharks and turtles. Each dive was unique, and it was a trip I will treasure for as long as my memory stays sharp. I can still visualize my first brush with the whale sharks, the first coming so close I could distinguish the pattern of her dappled coat and her soft eyes. The feeding manta that played by the boat for over half an hour, somersaulting till we grew dizzy watching it play. The school of barracudas parting like the Red Sea for the Israelites, closing back into their formation when we had passed. So many wonderful memories of that trip.
Tomorrow, I leave for another Tubbataha trip. Some of the fellow divers who were there in 2004 will be back. But most of the group are new to me. It will be a bigger group too. Less space to move around. I'll have a roommate this time. Won't be so easy to make a mess.
But whether this trip proves to be as memorable as 2004, I'm just happy to be going out of town. I need time away from the problems at the office, some new complications in my life, and family. I want to be where the most important part of the day is how many sharks were visible and preventing decompression sickness.
And should things go screwy, I am glad that a few of my important resolutions in life worked out this year. Good luck to me.
One of the top ten dive sites in the country is Tubbataha. Better writers and photographers than I have written about the site/s, which is actually a set of dive sites located in the middle of the Sulu Sea. Among local and other international divers, Tubbataha is an ecological paradise, hard to reach, only dive-able for 4 months of the year. It has the blessings of many international environmental organizations, and part of the sustainable development there is covered by the WWF (not the wrestling silly-heads, but the group with the panda logo). Personally, my favorite part of the dives there is the presence of sharks and turtles.
The first Tubbataha trip I went on was in 2004. We had a small group of divers, many of them I met on the boat. We had a good divemaster who had amazing underwater vision, and could distinguish the smallest creatures and sight the big fish hundred of meters away. Our dives were punctuated by excitement over whale sharks, mantas, and lots of sharks and turtles. Each dive was unique, and it was a trip I will treasure for as long as my memory stays sharp. I can still visualize my first brush with the whale sharks, the first coming so close I could distinguish the pattern of her dappled coat and her soft eyes. The feeding manta that played by the boat for over half an hour, somersaulting till we grew dizzy watching it play. The school of barracudas parting like the Red Sea for the Israelites, closing back into their formation when we had passed. So many wonderful memories of that trip.
Tomorrow, I leave for another Tubbataha trip. Some of the fellow divers who were there in 2004 will be back. But most of the group are new to me. It will be a bigger group too. Less space to move around. I'll have a roommate this time. Won't be so easy to make a mess.
But whether this trip proves to be as memorable as 2004, I'm just happy to be going out of town. I need time away from the problems at the office, some new complications in my life, and family. I want to be where the most important part of the day is how many sharks were visible and preventing decompression sickness.
And should things go screwy, I am glad that a few of my important resolutions in life worked out this year. Good luck to me.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Holy popcorn batman!
I'm addicted, I admit it. They have made something I really like and would be happy to eat everyday. It would probably kill me if I did eat it everyday though. Holy Kettle Corn. Sweet but not caramel laden. Salty but not like eating a salt lick. Popped to perfection. Few, if any, of those annoying unpopped kernels that you get if you buy cinema popcorn.
I blame Carole, my friend who brought over three bags of the stuff to our group party in February. It was her contribution, but we had so much food that it was left unopened. She told me that it would stay fresh for a few more days. So in the post-party ennui, I opened a bag, and my stomach was hooked.
It doesn't help that there are outlets so near my office. I can go to the left of the building and there's a stand. To the right, there's another.
I buy the P60 bag, and eat it all in nearly a sitting. Sometimes two sittings. Then I lose my appetite for anything else. Would it be different if I were walking around and eating it?
It's supposedly healthy. But nothing that good can be a healthy snack. There's got to be a catch. Probably the only way it is a healthy option is if you eat three kernels.
I blame Carole, my friend who brought over three bags of the stuff to our group party in February. It was her contribution, but we had so much food that it was left unopened. She told me that it would stay fresh for a few more days. So in the post-party ennui, I opened a bag, and my stomach was hooked.
It doesn't help that there are outlets so near my office. I can go to the left of the building and there's a stand. To the right, there's another.
I buy the P60 bag, and eat it all in nearly a sitting. Sometimes two sittings. Then I lose my appetite for anything else. Would it be different if I were walking around and eating it?
It's supposedly healthy. But nothing that good can be a healthy snack. There's got to be a catch. Probably the only way it is a healthy option is if you eat three kernels.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Returning to old favorites with new faces
How many meals can you inhale over a weekend before it feels like any more calories would lead to a trip to the hospital emergency room? Not that eating is a bad thing, and some of my favorite bloggers fulfill my fantasy of a non-stop feast with some of their posts. But this last weekend does raise the bar on how much I ingested, and it was good food speaking to me, not some lowlife fast-food quest.
J, who's a restauranteur (although very low key and a somewhat reluctant one), started off the weekend by inviting me over for some of the cheese he swiped at a meeting. He said that it would be a simple meal, but I knew that his definition of simple and mine are polar opposites. He didn't disappoint. We had smyrna figs, walnuts, semolina cracked bread, olives and a good red wine to go with our cheese. Then he brought out the big guns, a chocolate fondue, made with 70% dark chocolate, along with a platter of fruit. Another friend followed bearing a trip of gelato samplers. We ate and ate, heading home happy at heart around 2 in the morning. I suspect my hangover wasn't too noticeable at the presentation I organized the next morning, but I could be wrong.
Saturday night, I had organized on behalf of a visiting friend of a friend, a dinner at Galileo Enoteca. After having had the pleasure of dining several times with friends including the famous Marketman lunch last November, GE has become a good place to drag visitors. It's so hidden and part of the fun is looking for it (although by now, I could get there blindfolded). Then they start to say how nice it is, and how they'd never figure it was there. Squeezing 10 when we originally reserved for 8 was also interesting. As usual, the reservation people there do seem to have a problem keeping details straight. I've had lost reservations, and last Saturday wasn't any different. They only had us down for 4, not 8 as I had requested. Conversation never slowed, must have been a good night for everyone, eating all the cheese and meat, pasta, and devouring every speck and lick of the dessert.
Sunday we had a day trip to Sonya's garden in Tagaytay, so I saved myself for a hearty and healthy lunch there, before spending a lazy afternoon being massaged. The evening found us on the balcony of Antonio's fully satisfied with the marvelous food, wine and ambience. It made us think of how to incorporate the place into a party next year. Ideas, ideas. Of course, when we were back at Sonya's, we may have amended the idea by considering having the event there instead, sharing a cottage with 20 of our favorite people.
T and L had not visited the other Antonio's franchise, so we stopped for drinks at Breakfast at Antonio to show the view to the visitors. A bit too much sugar detracted from the overall enjoyment of the view, the sun, the shakes. Was it ironic then that we should go off in search of the Ilog Maria Bee Farm, to buy honey and all the lovely products they make from honey and bee pollen? This was the third time we had planned to visit, so it was truly charmed. No one else was there and a moment of panic set in when we saw the Mondays closed sign. However, the store was very much open and we bought a good lot of things to try including the beeswax wood balm that I've been meaning to get. The idea of waxing my new sampaloc cutting blocks is making me feel very happy right now.
The last stop before returning to Manila was to try Manos Taverna, newly reviewed by Marketman and a few other bloggers. With few other customers out on the town on a Monday afternoon, we had to try as many of the dishes and found our favorites in the tsaziki and moussaka. The baklava was not as deadly as we had expected, but flavorful and nuanced with the clove and sprinkling of calamansi. It was perfect with my muddy and dark coffee.
We really couldn't eat anymore when we got back to Manila. We sat for hours talking, playing with the cats and just sliding towards laziness. What a lovely Monday!
J, who's a restauranteur (although very low key and a somewhat reluctant one), started off the weekend by inviting me over for some of the cheese he swiped at a meeting. He said that it would be a simple meal, but I knew that his definition of simple and mine are polar opposites. He didn't disappoint. We had smyrna figs, walnuts, semolina cracked bread, olives and a good red wine to go with our cheese. Then he brought out the big guns, a chocolate fondue, made with 70% dark chocolate, along with a platter of fruit. Another friend followed bearing a trip of gelato samplers. We ate and ate, heading home happy at heart around 2 in the morning. I suspect my hangover wasn't too noticeable at the presentation I organized the next morning, but I could be wrong.
Saturday night, I had organized on behalf of a visiting friend of a friend, a dinner at Galileo Enoteca. After having had the pleasure of dining several times with friends including the famous Marketman lunch last November, GE has become a good place to drag visitors. It's so hidden and part of the fun is looking for it (although by now, I could get there blindfolded). Then they start to say how nice it is, and how they'd never figure it was there. Squeezing 10 when we originally reserved for 8 was also interesting. As usual, the reservation people there do seem to have a problem keeping details straight. I've had lost reservations, and last Saturday wasn't any different. They only had us down for 4, not 8 as I had requested. Conversation never slowed, must have been a good night for everyone, eating all the cheese and meat, pasta, and devouring every speck and lick of the dessert.
Sunday we had a day trip to Sonya's garden in Tagaytay, so I saved myself for a hearty and healthy lunch there, before spending a lazy afternoon being massaged. The evening found us on the balcony of Antonio's fully satisfied with the marvelous food, wine and ambience. It made us think of how to incorporate the place into a party next year. Ideas, ideas. Of course, when we were back at Sonya's, we may have amended the idea by considering having the event there instead, sharing a cottage with 20 of our favorite people.
T and L had not visited the other Antonio's franchise, so we stopped for drinks at Breakfast at Antonio to show the view to the visitors. A bit too much sugar detracted from the overall enjoyment of the view, the sun, the shakes. Was it ironic then that we should go off in search of the Ilog Maria Bee Farm, to buy honey and all the lovely products they make from honey and bee pollen? This was the third time we had planned to visit, so it was truly charmed. No one else was there and a moment of panic set in when we saw the Mondays closed sign. However, the store was very much open and we bought a good lot of things to try including the beeswax wood balm that I've been meaning to get. The idea of waxing my new sampaloc cutting blocks is making me feel very happy right now.
The last stop before returning to Manila was to try Manos Taverna, newly reviewed by Marketman and a few other bloggers. With few other customers out on the town on a Monday afternoon, we had to try as many of the dishes and found our favorites in the tsaziki and moussaka. The baklava was not as deadly as we had expected, but flavorful and nuanced with the clove and sprinkling of calamansi. It was perfect with my muddy and dark coffee.
We really couldn't eat anymore when we got back to Manila. We sat for hours talking, playing with the cats and just sliding towards laziness. What a lovely Monday!
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Roach motels
Word of warning: if you hate cockroaches like I do, this post may be offensive to the eyes. Avert now!
I stayed overnight at a local condotel in Makati. I won't go into reasons for why I needed to stay there when I have a perfectly decent apartment. However, the day before I had been canvassing the condotel offerings in Makati and found that the Prince Plaza 2 was the cheapest of the lot, and they had a room available. I also know of the Prince Plaza through it's co-ownership by the ASB group which runs the BSA Suites and Asian Mansion. I can't say that all the ASB group hotels follow the same hygiene protocol, so this "review" only affects the Prince Plaza.
The rooms are sizeable, with enough room for three people to bunk, a small kitchenette and a refrigerator. Compared to the Somerset suites, the Prince Plaza is definitely downscale. The ceiling is starting to peel, the beddings look clean, but worn, and the bathroom could have used a new lick of caulking.
However, what truly grossed me out was the invasion of roaches. If you'd ever seen the movie "Joe's Apartment" you might get a sense of the number I saw of the tiny creepy crawlies I spied with my little eye when I turned on the bathroom light. Eeek. Double Eeek. I called Housekeeping and told them to bring the biggest can of Baygon. They fobbed me off. But as I didn't have time to look for another place to stay (and my visa had been charged already), I headed off to my appointment. Later that night, I had to use the bathroom. Holding my bladder in, I peeked into the bathroom, and saw a tiny speck moving around the toilet bowl. No, can't do this. But I need to pee!!!! Let's say it was roaches - 0, me - unimaginable carnage of bodies. But I really really had to pee.
I could have lasted the night had I not seen a few more of the specks out on the "dining table" whereupon sat some cups and saucers for a possible coffee break. Eck, no thanks, the specks were wandering higgledy-piggledy over the said tableware. Waiting in a corner for the sun to come out (ie not getting a wink of sleep) I left in time to get to the gym for a long hot shower (not before I shook all my things as vigorously as I could imagine, ready to stomp on any moving objects that landed on the floor).
If you got to this point and aren't feeling that sense of ants in your pants (or on your arm and back), then please, avoid PP2. Not unless you have fantasies of battling roach hordes.
Instead for the same price, book yourself a room at the new Hyatt in Manila. Probably not roach infested yet and, look, nice bay views!
I stayed overnight at a local condotel in Makati. I won't go into reasons for why I needed to stay there when I have a perfectly decent apartment. However, the day before I had been canvassing the condotel offerings in Makati and found that the Prince Plaza 2 was the cheapest of the lot, and they had a room available. I also know of the Prince Plaza through it's co-ownership by the ASB group which runs the BSA Suites and Asian Mansion. I can't say that all the ASB group hotels follow the same hygiene protocol, so this "review" only affects the Prince Plaza.
The rooms are sizeable, with enough room for three people to bunk, a small kitchenette and a refrigerator. Compared to the Somerset suites, the Prince Plaza is definitely downscale. The ceiling is starting to peel, the beddings look clean, but worn, and the bathroom could have used a new lick of caulking.
However, what truly grossed me out was the invasion of roaches. If you'd ever seen the movie "Joe's Apartment" you might get a sense of the number I saw of the tiny creepy crawlies I spied with my little eye when I turned on the bathroom light. Eeek. Double Eeek. I called Housekeeping and told them to bring the biggest can of Baygon. They fobbed me off. But as I didn't have time to look for another place to stay (and my visa had been charged already), I headed off to my appointment. Later that night, I had to use the bathroom. Holding my bladder in, I peeked into the bathroom, and saw a tiny speck moving around the toilet bowl. No, can't do this. But I need to pee!!!! Let's say it was roaches - 0, me - unimaginable carnage of bodies. But I really really had to pee.
I could have lasted the night had I not seen a few more of the specks out on the "dining table" whereupon sat some cups and saucers for a possible coffee break. Eck, no thanks, the specks were wandering higgledy-piggledy over the said tableware. Waiting in a corner for the sun to come out (ie not getting a wink of sleep) I left in time to get to the gym for a long hot shower (not before I shook all my things as vigorously as I could imagine, ready to stomp on any moving objects that landed on the floor).
If you got to this point and aren't feeling that sense of ants in your pants (or on your arm and back), then please, avoid PP2. Not unless you have fantasies of battling roach hordes.
Instead for the same price, book yourself a room at the new Hyatt in Manila. Probably not roach infested yet and, look, nice bay views!
Friday, March 31, 2006
Reunions
Over the last few weeks, I've had some pleasant reunions with people I haven't seen in some time. One friend Mark, left Manila last year, and came back on a business trip last month. It was lovely to catch up and we met his partner (Mark is truly in love, and glows to prove it) over dessert. Then a former schoolmate got in touch and we have had a few dinners again. Last weekend he joined our group on a day dive in Anilao. Probably the nicest reunited moment was seeing a former Alliance Francaise classmate of mine, strangely enough she hasn't moved and I just lost her contact numbers. So tomorrow we are having breakfast in Salcedo Market. I'm looking forward to hearing all her news, plus I hope she still bakes cookies!
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Foresaking penguins for the sake of music and travel
A good friend lent me her DVD of March of the Penguins, a movie I've been dying to watch since it was released last year. I'd prefer to see it in an IMAX theatre, but a free viewing is better than nothing. She mentioned that the extra features were also worth a look-see. Last night was my planned Penguins night.
After getting home and having a quick ham and arugula sandwich for dinner, I turned the telly on, and got hooked on American Idol. Last night's show had the remaining contestants singing songs from the 1950's, and some of the songs are favorites of mine. But few of the contestants sang the songs with much panache. The one performance I fully enjoyed was Chris, the bald rocker dude, who sang I Walk the Line. It was the only rendition I fully enjoyed. Ace's whiny over the pop schtick ruined In the Still of the Night. I texted friends to ask why Ace is still around and all they could tell me is that he's got a nice smile.
Luckily the night's viewing improved when I found myself in the middle of the 4th episode of the Amazing Race. I'm glad the format has returned to the pairs, as I'm sure so many fellow race fans have mentioned. The hippies are a joy to watch, and although they get on my nerves, I'm glad Fran and Barry are still in it. I hope the nerds pick up the pace a little. I'm just annoyed that the jocks keep winning or staying at the top of the pack, and am disturbed by Lake/Michelle's improved standing. Haven't these people learned after 8 seasons that being ugly Americans doesn't help win the race? The mix of personalities does make the show more fun to watch, and you can't help but root for those you hate to mess up.
By the time I caught the first half of the race on another channel then the next episode of CSI followed by some decorating tips from Nate on Oprah, my penguin plans were long gone. Will it be tonight?
After getting home and having a quick ham and arugula sandwich for dinner, I turned the telly on, and got hooked on American Idol. Last night's show had the remaining contestants singing songs from the 1950's, and some of the songs are favorites of mine. But few of the contestants sang the songs with much panache. The one performance I fully enjoyed was Chris, the bald rocker dude, who sang I Walk the Line. It was the only rendition I fully enjoyed. Ace's whiny over the pop schtick ruined In the Still of the Night. I texted friends to ask why Ace is still around and all they could tell me is that he's got a nice smile.
Luckily the night's viewing improved when I found myself in the middle of the 4th episode of the Amazing Race. I'm glad the format has returned to the pairs, as I'm sure so many fellow race fans have mentioned. The hippies are a joy to watch, and although they get on my nerves, I'm glad Fran and Barry are still in it. I hope the nerds pick up the pace a little. I'm just annoyed that the jocks keep winning or staying at the top of the pack, and am disturbed by Lake/Michelle's improved standing. Haven't these people learned after 8 seasons that being ugly Americans doesn't help win the race? The mix of personalities does make the show more fun to watch, and you can't help but root for those you hate to mess up.
By the time I caught the first half of the race on another channel then the next episode of CSI followed by some decorating tips from Nate on Oprah, my penguin plans were long gone. Will it be tonight?
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Thai tasting, a long night's slog
After weeks of trying to get a band of eaters together, I finally made it out to Som's on Algier St, near Rockwell. Recommended by a number of bloggers/divers/friends, I met up with two friends for a long night out of al fresco dining (complimentary diesel fumes).
Fine dining, Som's is not. It's a makeshift canteen the owners opened up in the front of their home. The neighborhood is residential, back of a long row of restaurants facing Rockwell Drive/Kalayaan Extension. According to one of my fellow eaters, the place has been around for years, as the owner/chef is a transplanted Thai chef, formerly of Sukothai restaurant, married to a Filipina (I wonder how many restaurants are set up in that same pattern: foreigner married to Pinay, opens up restaurant? I imagine a lot in this country.). Som's is the name of their child, but we weren't sure if we met the namesake that night.
We arrived before 7:30 and we were one of three tables occupying the raised sidewalk cum eating terrace. By 10 p.m., there were additional tables set up on the street and a good rate of takeout orders filled. On a Monday night too.
I had been told to order the curries and the ice tea. We also tried the tom yum, the phad thai, and one of the fried rice with shrimp and basil. Other dishes on the menu included a good number of noodle soups, chicken in oyster sauce, spring rolls, and fried tofu. The most expensive dish was P70, so you can eat a lot here and not spend a great deal.
Of our choices, the curries were a hit, I enjoyed both the green and the red, although I'll follow the tip to ask for it extra spicy next time. The Shrimp fried rice with basil was an odd combination of whole shrimp with basil in an onion slathered sauce with a scoop of white rice (not fried at all) and a fried egg on top. And the phad thai used egg noodles or some other rice noodle, not the flat noodles usually used for the dish. It was also strangely orange with not that much in terms of tofu/legumes/shrimp or peanuts. Not one of the better dishes.
I'd like to see more green vegetable choices, but knowing an inexpensive and tasty curry is available makes Soms a good place to return to. Note to self: wear pants or bring Off Lotion next time.
Fine dining, Som's is not. It's a makeshift canteen the owners opened up in the front of their home. The neighborhood is residential, back of a long row of restaurants facing Rockwell Drive/Kalayaan Extension. According to one of my fellow eaters, the place has been around for years, as the owner/chef is a transplanted Thai chef, formerly of Sukothai restaurant, married to a Filipina (I wonder how many restaurants are set up in that same pattern: foreigner married to Pinay, opens up restaurant? I imagine a lot in this country.). Som's is the name of their child, but we weren't sure if we met the namesake that night.
We arrived before 7:30 and we were one of three tables occupying the raised sidewalk cum eating terrace. By 10 p.m., there were additional tables set up on the street and a good rate of takeout orders filled. On a Monday night too.
I had been told to order the curries and the ice tea. We also tried the tom yum, the phad thai, and one of the fried rice with shrimp and basil. Other dishes on the menu included a good number of noodle soups, chicken in oyster sauce, spring rolls, and fried tofu. The most expensive dish was P70, so you can eat a lot here and not spend a great deal.
Of our choices, the curries were a hit, I enjoyed both the green and the red, although I'll follow the tip to ask for it extra spicy next time. The Shrimp fried rice with basil was an odd combination of whole shrimp with basil in an onion slathered sauce with a scoop of white rice (not fried at all) and a fried egg on top. And the phad thai used egg noodles or some other rice noodle, not the flat noodles usually used for the dish. It was also strangely orange with not that much in terms of tofu/legumes/shrimp or peanuts. Not one of the better dishes.
I'd like to see more green vegetable choices, but knowing an inexpensive and tasty curry is available makes Soms a good place to return to. Note to self: wear pants or bring Off Lotion next time.
Monday, March 20, 2006
A book from the bin, 'bout baboons
National Bookstore in Cubao has a floor dedicated to their overflowing inventory. You scan through the bins and shelves and wonder why they decided to buy too many copies of How to Be A Cattle Rancher or Culture Shock for Dummies. Do they learn from their mistakes or figure that when it's time to cull these gems from their outlets, they'll find a special audience from those bookworms who visit Cubao.
I've gone there a few times, usually with a good friend who has a "To Be Read" list in the thousands of books. She combines the best of a bookaholic and a shopaholic. We get her updated tbr list every quarter to help her get through the list, as they tend to overtake her life a bit.
On my last visit, I came across a book called A Primate's Memoirs, by Robert Sapolsky. It lay on my bookshelf for a few weeks before I finally got around to reading it and within a few pages it has become a major part of my favorite reads of all time. I can see myself reading, laughing, and crying over Dr. Sapolsky's stories for years to come.
He writes of the nearly 20 years he spent in Kenya documenting the stress hormones of baboons. He shares his favorite stories about the baboons, detailing characteristics, quirks, social and anti-social behaviors. Every other chapter or so, he also shares his life with the tribes like the Masai, travelling around Eastern Africa, and his personal relationships with people who impact his life over those learning years. If Bill Bryson were a bio-psychologist and learned how to dart primates, then he'd be Dr. Sapolsky.
Laura Hillenbrand made me fall in love with race horses, especially Seabiscuit; now Robert Sapolsky has enamored my senses with his tales of living out in Africa with baboons. Books that get under your skin like that deserve to be on any favorite books list.
I've gone there a few times, usually with a good friend who has a "To Be Read" list in the thousands of books. She combines the best of a bookaholic and a shopaholic. We get her updated tbr list every quarter to help her get through the list, as they tend to overtake her life a bit.
On my last visit, I came across a book called A Primate's Memoirs, by Robert Sapolsky. It lay on my bookshelf for a few weeks before I finally got around to reading it and within a few pages it has become a major part of my favorite reads of all time. I can see myself reading, laughing, and crying over Dr. Sapolsky's stories for years to come.
He writes of the nearly 20 years he spent in Kenya documenting the stress hormones of baboons. He shares his favorite stories about the baboons, detailing characteristics, quirks, social and anti-social behaviors. Every other chapter or so, he also shares his life with the tribes like the Masai, travelling around Eastern Africa, and his personal relationships with people who impact his life over those learning years. If Bill Bryson were a bio-psychologist and learned how to dart primates, then he'd be Dr. Sapolsky.
Laura Hillenbrand made me fall in love with race horses, especially Seabiscuit; now Robert Sapolsky has enamored my senses with his tales of living out in Africa with baboons. Books that get under your skin like that deserve to be on any favorite books list.
How to clean
Living solo is a lovely thing. Peace and quiet, no one to bug you about leaving dirty dishes in the sink, leaving personal messes all over the place, vacuuming ala Melanie Griffith in Working Girl (can't do it in stilettos though, the pain!). Or not cleaning for weeks if one can stand it.
However, I can't stand it for more than one week. Usually, my allergies (dust) tell me that it's time to get the broom, the duster, and the vacuum ready. Cleaning day is here!
Over the few months, I've picked up a few personal favorites in the cleaning arena. I like using Domex for general kitchen and bathroom surfaces. I like the multi-purpose nature of it all, grime, soot, muddy foottracks, mold, all flora and some er fauna that shouldn't be found in a modern day kitchen and bathroom, all attended to by one trusty bottle. Even when the floor isn't that dirty, but I just need to feel like the house is germ free, I get a bucket of water and cleanser ready for a 30 minute death to germy attack.
I also found a cheaper version to Swiffer, same idea with the flat duster with attacheable dust clothes. The dust clothes only cost P70 a pack from the NBC tent bazaar, unlike the more expensive version in supermarkets and hardware stores. As I stocked up last year, I'm not sure if the supplier still sells them for P70 a pack, so I guess I'd better plan to pay more for my next supply. I LOVE dustwipes, they pick up anything and the dust doesn't go flying around, especially up my nose where I start sneezing and wheezing. I use them to wipe the screens, window sills, doorknobs, all surfaces where dust will settle. I just wish Manila wasn't so dusty. I don't remember dusting this much in some parts of China.
And for all the other particles that just won't be dusted or washed out, I turn to the vacuum. Rather, my housemate's vacuum. Lucky for me, my housemate is rarely at home so I can feel like I'm living alone, but paying half what I'd be spending if I were living alone. His vacuum has lots of attachments and bits, which I rarely use. Give me the basic option which picks up all the nonsense that gets into the crevices and nooks. Even on a non-carpet floor, it's good to have a vacuum to suck out all the dustbunnies that grow in the dark.
A recent article I found in Real Simple magazine spoke about cleaning strategies like setting a timer so you feel motivated. My motivation's up my nose, when I can't breathe without sneezing, then I know it's time to turn into Charlady Warrior Princess.
However, I can't stand it for more than one week. Usually, my allergies (dust) tell me that it's time to get the broom, the duster, and the vacuum ready. Cleaning day is here!
Over the few months, I've picked up a few personal favorites in the cleaning arena. I like using Domex for general kitchen and bathroom surfaces. I like the multi-purpose nature of it all, grime, soot, muddy foottracks, mold, all flora and some er fauna that shouldn't be found in a modern day kitchen and bathroom, all attended to by one trusty bottle. Even when the floor isn't that dirty, but I just need to feel like the house is germ free, I get a bucket of water and cleanser ready for a 30 minute death to germy attack.
I also found a cheaper version to Swiffer, same idea with the flat duster with attacheable dust clothes. The dust clothes only cost P70 a pack from the NBC tent bazaar, unlike the more expensive version in supermarkets and hardware stores. As I stocked up last year, I'm not sure if the supplier still sells them for P70 a pack, so I guess I'd better plan to pay more for my next supply. I LOVE dustwipes, they pick up anything and the dust doesn't go flying around, especially up my nose where I start sneezing and wheezing. I use them to wipe the screens, window sills, doorknobs, all surfaces where dust will settle. I just wish Manila wasn't so dusty. I don't remember dusting this much in some parts of China.
And for all the other particles that just won't be dusted or washed out, I turn to the vacuum. Rather, my housemate's vacuum. Lucky for me, my housemate is rarely at home so I can feel like I'm living alone, but paying half what I'd be spending if I were living alone. His vacuum has lots of attachments and bits, which I rarely use. Give me the basic option which picks up all the nonsense that gets into the crevices and nooks. Even on a non-carpet floor, it's good to have a vacuum to suck out all the dustbunnies that grow in the dark.
A recent article I found in Real Simple magazine spoke about cleaning strategies like setting a timer so you feel motivated. My motivation's up my nose, when I can't breathe without sneezing, then I know it's time to turn into Charlady Warrior Princess.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Johari Window
Arena(known to self and others) intelligent | Blind Spot(known only to others) adaptable, bold, dependable, independent, knowledgeable, mature, self-assertive, sensible |
Façade(known only to self) idealistic, quiet, shy, tense | Unknown(known to nobody) able, accepting, brave, calm, caring, cheerful, clever, complex, confident, dignified, energetic, extroverted, friendly, giving, happy, helpful, ingenious, introverted, kind, logical, loving, modest, nervous, observant, organised, patient, powerful, proud, reflective, relaxed, religious, responsive, searching, self-conscious, sentimental, silly, spontaneous, sympathetic, trustworthy, warm, wise, witty |
Dominant Traits
100% of people think that Watergirl is knowledgeable
100% of people think that Watergirl is mature
All Percentages
able (0%) accepting (0%) adaptable (50%) bold (50%) brave (0%) calm (0%) caring (0%) cheerful (0%) clever (0%) complex (0%) confident (0%) dependable (50%) dignified (0%) energetic (0%) extroverted (0%) friendly (0%) giving (0%) happy (0%) helpful (0%) idealistic (0%) independent (50%) ingenious (0%) intelligent (50%) introverted (0%) kind (0%) knowledgeable (100%) logical (0%) loving (0%) mature (100%) modest (0%) nervous (0%) observant (0%) organised (0%) patient (0%) powerful (0%) proud (0%) quiet (0%) reflective (0%) relaxed (0%) religious (0%) responsive (0%) searching (0%) self-assertive (50%) self-conscious (0%) sensible (50%) sentimental (0%) shy (0%) silly (0%) spontaneous (0%) sympathetic (0%) tense (0%) trustworthy (0%) warm (0%) wise (0%) witty (0%)
Created by the Interactive Johari Window on 15.3.2006, using data from x respondents.
You can make your own Johari Window, or view watergirl's full data.
You can make your own Johari Window, or view watergirl's full data.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Student visa orientation in April and May
The press releases will be out soon, but I thought I'd scoop myself on this. My office will hold a US student visa orientation on April 1 and May 6, both Saturday mornings, for all and sundry. Speakers will be from the US Embassy's visa section, and we'll have homemade brownies and coffee.
Email me for details.
Email me for details.
Office bonding for the month
At the start of the year, our organization's fearless leader decided that we would hold a monthly gift exchange, very much like an extended Secret Santa. We then came up with a list of the gift themes per month. As March heralds St. Patrick's Day, we chose green, but with a twist. I am now wracking my brain to figure out a gift, P50 or more, that is green + long! I've thought of scarves, ties, vegetables, but honestly, what I'd like is to find a gift I've stored away for recycling to pop up out of the blue, perfectly suited for the occasion.
I am a gift recycler. I dare anyone to say they are not. It started in 2000 when I began unloading all my 30 years of accumulated junk, selling off books, clothes, trivial things that take up space. Each year, when I receive gifts for birthdays and other events, I think of who I can pass it on to, as it's not going to be something I'd keep. I gave up a Palmpilot at one point. And I think the only thing I wouldn't give up is a free airplane ticket or something involved in travelling. Sometimes I feel like a middleman, sorting through gifts and deciding where one bit will end up, who it would suit, and making sure the gift doesn't go back to the same person (probably the hardest part. Always, ALWAYS, double check the first few pages of a book for inscriptions and love notes.).
I will spend the day checking for a requisite greenish/longish gift, then if all else fails, head to the stores for some leeks.
I am a gift recycler. I dare anyone to say they are not. It started in 2000 when I began unloading all my 30 years of accumulated junk, selling off books, clothes, trivial things that take up space. Each year, when I receive gifts for birthdays and other events, I think of who I can pass it on to, as it's not going to be something I'd keep. I gave up a Palmpilot at one point. And I think the only thing I wouldn't give up is a free airplane ticket or something involved in travelling. Sometimes I feel like a middleman, sorting through gifts and deciding where one bit will end up, who it would suit, and making sure the gift doesn't go back to the same person (probably the hardest part. Always, ALWAYS, double check the first few pages of a book for inscriptions and love notes.).
I will spend the day checking for a requisite greenish/longish gift, then if all else fails, head to the stores for some leeks.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Browniesicecreambrowniesicecream ad nauseum plus musings
Did you ever have a day when you get sick of the smell of sugar? When you feel it's coming out of your pores, oozing out of every orifice?
That happens when you spend the day baking, and then eating what you've baked. In my case, it was making too many batches of brownies, testing the recipe until I found one I really liked, then doing another set for friends, and eating it with more chocolate and ice cream. Honestly, I was a walking sugar bomb by the day's end.
I won't scoop a fellow blogger on something she put me on track to last Saturday, but I got to try a new local ice cream maker and it was fab! Check out DessertFirst blog in the next few weeks to read all about the ice cream sensation.
Afterwards, I'll be on a no-sugar zone for a few weeks. Maybe a no carb zone. Oy.
Review: had dinner with friends at Behrouz over at Metrowalk. Prices were reasonable and the kebabs were decent. However, the owners need to update the restaurant innards (to use another blogger's favorite term). The walls need a new lick of paint, the seat upholstery needs to be overhauled, and the waitresses look slatternly. Even the menus look like they need to be dusted off for reprints. For the amount of food we had, and the price, we shouldn't have had to deal with the canteen atmosphere.
Am half-happy, half-bummed with the Oscars this year. I'm relieved that Ang Lee won the Best Director award. He should have won it for Crouching Tiger! I'm sad that Brokeback Mountain didn't win the best picture award, however, it was heavily hinted at the pre-show that something was in the works. It wasn't as big a surprise, I was far more taken aback when Roman Polanski won Best Director a few years ago.
That happens when you spend the day baking, and then eating what you've baked. In my case, it was making too many batches of brownies, testing the recipe until I found one I really liked, then doing another set for friends, and eating it with more chocolate and ice cream. Honestly, I was a walking sugar bomb by the day's end.
I won't scoop a fellow blogger on something she put me on track to last Saturday, but I got to try a new local ice cream maker and it was fab! Check out DessertFirst blog in the next few weeks to read all about the ice cream sensation.
Afterwards, I'll be on a no-sugar zone for a few weeks. Maybe a no carb zone. Oy.
Review: had dinner with friends at Behrouz over at Metrowalk. Prices were reasonable and the kebabs were decent. However, the owners need to update the restaurant innards (to use another blogger's favorite term). The walls need a new lick of paint, the seat upholstery needs to be overhauled, and the waitresses look slatternly. Even the menus look like they need to be dusted off for reprints. For the amount of food we had, and the price, we shouldn't have had to deal with the canteen atmosphere.
Am half-happy, half-bummed with the Oscars this year. I'm relieved that Ang Lee won the Best Director award. He should have won it for Crouching Tiger! I'm sad that Brokeback Mountain didn't win the best picture award, however, it was heavily hinted at the pre-show that something was in the works. It wasn't as big a surprise, I was far more taken aback when Roman Polanski won Best Director a few years ago.
Friday, March 03, 2006
Re-lent
Growing up, there were certain things I had to do during Lent: go to mass on Ash Wednesday to get my forehead marked with charcoal, give up something I liked (usually sweets or chocolates or food that made me happy) for 40 days, buy the palm to wave at the priest on Palm Sunday, trek around Manila to get our 14 churches pilgrimage on Maundy Thursday, try to sleep in on Good Friday because there wasn't anything good on tv anyway unless my mother strapped us in front of the tv to listen to the 7 Last Words, then look forward to ice cream cake on Easter Sunday. Year after year, that was my commitment to the faith, and it gave my life some form of structure and discipline which, I must admit, it sadly lacks these days.
Now, I am older, not necessarily wiser (more sarcastic though), and I have cast off religious convictions. No more Sunday masses, no more tithes, no more communion services. I don't find myself torn if I don't confess my sins to some anonymous male voice who tells me to say the Holy Mary 100 times for wanting to lobotomize my older brother when I grow up. The penalties for modern life don't seem too guilt-ridden these days, and I can breathe freely, except when on Edsa.
There will be as much sugar, meat and such over the next few weeks as I want or need. And when it gets too hot to even think about walking around churches, I will suffer inside with the aircondition on, reading about baboons (an amazing book I just picked up, reviews to come).
Faith is not about the structure and the frou-frou of palms, incense and atonement, it's about something that is planted and sown inside you by your parents, teachers, religious leaders, and the community. My seed withered away and I have not replanted it.
Now, I am older, not necessarily wiser (more sarcastic though), and I have cast off religious convictions. No more Sunday masses, no more tithes, no more communion services. I don't find myself torn if I don't confess my sins to some anonymous male voice who tells me to say the Holy Mary 100 times for wanting to lobotomize my older brother when I grow up. The penalties for modern life don't seem too guilt-ridden these days, and I can breathe freely, except when on Edsa.
There will be as much sugar, meat and such over the next few weeks as I want or need. And when it gets too hot to even think about walking around churches, I will suffer inside with the aircondition on, reading about baboons (an amazing book I just picked up, reviews to come).
Faith is not about the structure and the frou-frou of palms, incense and atonement, it's about something that is planted and sown inside you by your parents, teachers, religious leaders, and the community. My seed withered away and I have not replanted it.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Memoirs of a wannabe (not) geisha
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.
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 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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Pike Market Peonies
