the cat whisperer

on the sense of wonder

2011-07-09T10:59:00.001+08:00

"think of your yoga practice as a study in perseverance. not the gut-wrenching, willful approach that is sometimes demanded by a challenging class, but rather the kind of perseverance that can be sustained over time. a yogi shows up each day, gets on the mat, and starts doing poses. every day is different - a different feeling or sensation appears, a different insight reveals itself. a seasoned yogi follows, explores and tests whatever unfolds on that particular day. but what sustains the commitment to show up in the first place? for me it's a sense of wonder, not the force of will...

"each day that i get on my mat, i open to the vastness of yoga rather than narrow myself to a goal for that particular day. i feel wonder as i realize that every pose is infinite and that ultimate mastery is not possible. i feel wonder that time, dedication, and curiosity are what brings me progress, not the intensity of my will...

"finally, i am filled with a sense of wonder that my yoga practice allows me to refine the quality of my existence."

matthew sanford
the path less traveled
yoga journal, february 2009

a prayer for a lost pet

2011-06-21T12:01:00.004+08:00

Father,
We ask you to help us find Figaro,
our dear pet who is now lost.
We know that you placed animals on the earth
for many reasons, including companionship for man.
We therefore ask you to help us find our lost companion,
and pray that You will keep him safe
and protect him from harm until he is found.
We join our prayers with St. Francis,
St. Anthony of Padua, and all the saints,
and pray in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
- David Bennett
from http://www.churchyear.net/prayer/prayerforalostpet.html

to-do list: for when figaro comes back, which is soon

2011-06-19T14:16:00.011+08:00

it is the cat lover's worst nightmare to find your semi-indoor middle-aged cat not returning from his usual stroll, especially when he is neutered and timid and thus not likely to roam looking for females in heat or be picked up by a complete stranger. i'd like to think i have done my part looking for him in the neighborhood, asking people and posting notices at the stores around the block. now i wait and take comfort in stories of cats (even the mistreated ones) strolling back home after months or even years of disappearance.

but thinking of months or years is unbearable to me right now. i would like to hear his paws scratching the kitchen door from outside right about it and see him nothing worse than tired and super hungry.

i'd like to be optimistic and continue to pray, as these are my only options and, if only to keep myself from falling apart. figaro has been my cat for 9 years, and he is more than a cat to me, he is my family, my best friend.

This photo of Figaro was shot 07 June, a week before he left.

to-dos:
big tight hug.

fix finest meal.
give your vitamins.
short warm bath.
good sleep wrapped in a blanket.
make you an indoor cat here in the suburbs
as you are in the city.
vet visit
(to check you had not come down with
anything while missing for 5 days).
have collar and a nameplate made,
with your name and my name and telephone number.
buy new scratching post,
maybe a new litterbox.
yours is already 6 years old.
take you out for a stroll on the rooftop (in a cage, sorry).
have more and more fun and lazy days together.
you will live long enough to see my child born and grow to a toddler.
take care of you until the end of your days.
you will die peacefully on your bed,
surrounded by people you love and who love you,
perhaps a ripe age of 20.
and you will always be
the best loved cat in the whole world.

thanks, coco!

2011-06-16T17:43:00.005+08:00

this couldn't have come at a better time.

"Ultimately, I abandoned all preconceived perceptions of my career path and stature and... it was the most satisfying and fascinating year of my professional life... I have never had more fun, been more challenged—and this is important—had more conviction about what I was doing."

Find the full transcript of Conan's Dartmouth College Class of 2011 commencement speech on this <page>.

"Your path at 22 will not necessarily be your path at 32 or 42. One's dream is constantly evolving, rising and falling, changing course... And that's okay."

openness in close quarters

2011-05-12T22:37:00.009+08:00

It was ironic that my favorite yoga teacher focused on openness in today's class. I thought, she has got to be kidding. More than 30 people came to class today - some, including me, could not even figure out where to place themselves. There was barely room to raise the arms sideways. Where has the sensitivity gone?

I struggled to settle my breathing in the introductory child's pose, knowing I will have to constantly adjust myself within my little 24" x 72" rubber of a space to avoid accidentally slapping my neighbors during the Suriya Namaskar. It was at that moment, that it made sense to me, what today's lesson was. As I tried not to get kicked by the person in front of me or not kiss his rear on my way to a forward bend, I learned to take it slow, assess my space, adjust and just embrace the energy of this crowded room. And then I found calm.

Outside the mat there are far more occasions when we will feel constricted - be it by other people, circumstances, opposing ideas or our own thoughts and fears. After the class I didn't feel shortchanged. I felt all the good stuff in the right places in my body - reminding me that I can still make the most out of anything in life even without having my own comfortable space. And for that I am thankful for this class. The teacher probably did this on purpose (she is wise that way).

les plans grands

2010-10-31T16:46:00.003+08:00

great things come in small cutesy notebooks.
this one appears as if it's made just for my big big plans in 2011.

omg, i (kinda) predicted the ending of Lost!

2010-06-03T23:55:00.007+08:00

I quote from an entry I wrote about a dream I had where I was having an adventure with the Oceanic survivors, the day before the Season 5 Finale.

Warning: Don't read if you haven't seen the series finale and don't want to be spoiled.

Written/dreamt 20 May, 2009.

We watched as this man/monster resurrected from its box. Unfortunately for us, he turned out to be a killer... Chaos ensued and we quickly ran down... but when I thought I was far enough to be safe, I also realized that I've separated myself from the others...

Outside, people were all waiting for their rides home. An acquaintance was talking to me... offering me a ride. But I said I'm staying for a while. When I said that, I wasn't sure why, then I realized I wanted to wait for the others. Surely they'd go out this way, too.

I didn't wait very long, for a small group of my former companions came out of the gate... I took one of their hands and we hugged tight, it was a reunion of relief (that we were all safe) and longing. I felt I belonged with these people... I wept out of exhaustion and happiness at finding these people again...

I asked the girl beside me, what happened to the others? I whispered to her ear "I meant Jack, Kate and Sawyer, what happened to them?... I wasn't expecting the response. I thought they just headed to a different direction or traveled to another time, but when she started to speak with tears in her eyes, a lump formed in my throat.

They were all dead. I then wondered what happened to everybody else not on this jeepney - Juliet? Sun? Sayid?

Read about the entire dream here.

To quote Damon Lindelof's twitter post: "Remember. Let go. Move on. I will miss it more than I can ever say." I'm still on the first phase, obviously. Still hanging on to what I can.

Photo courtesy of http://www.nypost.com/

Vegan Buffet at Ananda Marga

2010-05-06T18:25:00.002+08:00

For a healthy, alternative Saturday night out, try a spread of sentient vegetarian dishes
from the Ananda Marga Yoga Center's vegan buffet. Not just for vegans, but for anyone open to something new, healthy or even life-changing (yummy, too, need I add?).

29 May, 2010, 6pm
Ananda Marga Yoga Center
46 Maamo St., Sikatuna Village, Quezon City
Click here for directions.

Tickets are at P500/pax for dinner only. P1,000 for dinner plus 3 yoga sessions at the center.

Food's great, I can tell you that. It's also for a good cause. Proceeds will be for the benefit of AM's scholarship projects.

For tickets and inquiries,
Contact me
Or call Ananda Marga QC - +632 9246068 / +63929 5419501

got lost, found a better way home

2010-03-21T14:31:00.015+08:00

Photo courtesy of Google Maps.

Going home from a birthday party at a friend's house, I've decided to take a different route from the one I used going there. I had a city map in the car and normally I'd open it before driving in unfamiliar territory. But feeling adventurous, decided to rely purely on my instincts, thinking that the road I took was just parallel to my earlier route. Maybe a few degrees off, but surely it would lead me to the same main road that will lead me home. It did not. For traversing that long road, the main road I was expecting to see was nowhere in sight. Instead, I ended up in a completely different city altogether.

I passed by familiar roads, but it was puzzling how I ended up here, for I never even knew these cities were connected. Of course, the very wanting street signs of Manila didn't help. When I came to a road that I knew would remotely lead me to where I lived, I stopped at a gas station to finally check my map just to know which direction I should take (and not end up in yet another city).

The map was a bit confusing (even for me), but with the help of the gas station staff who offered help without my asking, I realized I was right. I was a few intersections from home. I was right to take this road, it was just a surprise how I exactly got there.

I felt a deep satisfaction as I parked the car at home. Not only because I got home without so much confusion, but more importantly, this little trip taught me a lesson in faith. It's okay to take an unknown route at times. At least once in your life, you just have to know where you're going and let the open road take you there, even blindly . Without a plan or map, just an instinct that you are in the right direction. It may come as a surprise, but who knows, it may be the easiest route home.

Midwinter Graces: Short, Sweet and Spiritual

2009-11-15T00:32:00.012+08:00

When we mention Christmas, we usually think of joy, lights, feasts, spirituality, gifts, excess, thanksgiving, happy children and love. When thinking of Tori Amos, one might conjure images of cornflakes, waitress murder, unorthodox takes on religious concepts, celebration of womanhood. As you see, there is very little overlap and that is why Tori, despite her being a minister's daughter, would probably be the last musician we'd ever expect a Christmas album from. But then, she's not really calling it a Christmas album, is she? Midwinter Graces is technically labeled a "seasonal album" instead, so I go and nod, okay, this is characteristic of her, after all.

But what could a "Christmas" album from Tori Amos sound like? Definitely not trite or religious. But surprisingly not at all that would make devouts rally to ban this album from being sold in a Catholic country. For one, she retains the soul of traditional (and Christian) hymns (What Child, Nowell, Emmanuel, Star of Wonder, Jeanette, Isabella and quotes from Gloria in Harps of Gold), and yet fuses them seamlessly with the rest of the album.

"The rest of the album" is the one that I can happily say sounds very Little Earthquakes/Under The Pink-like, where the piano rules. Not lacking in richness - the sorely missed harpsichord makes a comeback, complementing the strings and the perfunctory Christmas bells that lend themselves to some of the songs' old world-ly sound. Precious tracks Holly, Ivy and Rose (where Tori duets with daughter) and Candle: Coventry Carol bring you to an entirely different world. I have never experienced winter where I live but this album puts in my head snapshots of the season over the ages and across cultures like a silent movie.

Meanwhile the cheery, urban side that is associated with the holidays is in the subtly wrapped present that is Pink and Glitter, with its (quiet) big band ballad arrangement. Very anti-Tori title, but nice song. My favorites are Winter's Carol (this is Tori's return to form) and Our New Year (the "saudade"-filled finale that seemed to be a common thread going on with Toast in The Beekeeper and Gold Dust in Scarlet's Walk). There is a love song Silent Night With You that borders on sappy, but forgivable.

Short, sweet, different and spiritual, this album is. Not much about the lyrics, but I like that it successfully set a mood - that is, of bittersweetness. The minor chords and orchestral arrangements can take your mind to a gray and cold Northern village where faint lights bring hope and a spirit of rebirth for the New Year, an overall sentiment of peace, which is what the winter solstice (and Christmas, for that matter) represents for most people.

Rating: ****

intertwyne (cynthia alexander) - chords

2009-11-02T12:24:00.002+08:00

Disclaimer: Chords are blog author's own transcription and are therefore unofficial. Corrections are most welcome.

intro: C9-D7/9
F-Fm-C9

(for verse, do intro chords)
me & you
whispering of ripplewind
& faerie wing
me & you
undaunted by
our joyful scarring

(repeat intro chords)

me & you
of twisting fates
in corridors of time
silence is the fire
that speaks to us in tongues

F
what is tomorrow
C
it may never come
F
what is yesterday
C
is now done
C
for we always were
D
we always will
F
we always are
Fm G/G7
we always intertwyne
G/G7
we always intertwyne

interlude: CM7-Am-CM7-Am
FM7-G7-FM7-G7-FM7-G7-FM7-G7
F-Em-Dm-F-G-G7

me & you
finally
beholden grace
in our eyes
in our hands
unfolding space

what is tomorrow
it may never come
what is yesterday
is now done
for we always were
we always will
we always are
we always intertwyne
we always intertwyne

F G7
intertwyne
F G7
we always intertwyne

extro: CM7-Am-CM7-Am
FM7-G7-FM7-G7-FM7-G7-FM7-G7
F-Em-Dm-F-G-G7

Confessions Of A (Reformed) Shopaholic

2009-09-12T23:30:00.011+08:00

You know you're a rehabbed shopaholic when:

You enter a shop for a pair of slacks that you genuinely need and while sieving through the sale rack, your eyes wander and end up gawking at stuff that aren't for sale - the lovely faux-finished walls, the Turkish lamps, the old-world feel mirrors.

You traipse past hangers, totally unaffected, but your heart skips a beat at the sight of well-styled vignettes on a shelf.

You try on one piece of clothing to check for signs of a relapse, but you look not at your reflection but stand transfixed by the wood and iron clothes hooks in the changing rooms.

As you let sound the chimes at the exit, you head out, emptyhanded and fashion-challenged, but with a smile on your lips and a bagful of ideas.

Motorbykle (Cynthia Alexander) - Chords

2009-09-06T23:35:00.016+08:00

Been occupied in the past few months that I noticed I haven't been blogging as much as last year. Strangely, I've discovered a new meaning to the word "busy". In that it can mean something good, something that you can actually like being. I guess it makes a whole lot of difference what you're busy with. If it's something you really take pride in letting it consume you - you wouldn't mind so much missing out for a while on other things that also mean a lot to you. In my case - time with friends, yoga, running, the Cinemalaya festival, or just the point I made earlier - writing.

This blog gets a lot of online traffic from people searching for Cynthia Alexander chords, with some visitors asking for more. I got into a transcribing mood over a month ago and here is part of what came out of that exercise. I was going to post another song first but decided on Motorbykle as it is simpler and probably nearer to the actual chords that Cynthia used (thus more useful to whoever stumbles upon this entry).

In a way, the song also sounds more appropriate right now, in light of some recent changes and choices. I hope it is not the road back to the old "busy" definition - I am reassuring myself that there need not always be a highway's end. As Iris advised Samantha in Sophie Kinsella's Undomestic Goddess, "Sometimes it’s enough just to know what you’re going to do next.” And I do. So meantime, let me just enjoy the ride.
________________________________________________________

Disclaimer: Chords are blog author's own transcription and are therefore unofficial. Corrections are most welcome.

Intro: G-D G-D

G D
we barely survive the abuses
G D
we inflict upon ourselves
G D
we never mean to be unkind
G D
the colors leave us blind
G D
we get what we deserve
G D
we pay for what we get
G
here is the game
D
and here is the cycle
G A D
while I ride my motorbykle
G-D
Ride

(Use same chord pattern)
we brave the accusations
& stand on burning bridges
blame it all on weakness
& crucify our innocence

& we get what we deserve
& we pay for what we get
here is the game
and here is the cycle
while I ride my motorbykle

G F#m
now we have come
G F#m
to our hi-ways' end
G F#m
run along now & carry on
G D
& embrace the changes
G D
sanctify this distance
G D
we're certified experienced
G D
to do it all again

but we get what we deserve
& we pay for what we get
here is the game
and here is the cycle
while I ride my motorbykle
Ride

dream diary #112: the guillotine

2009-08-25T00:28:00.006+08:00

"... I'll show you how dreams are prepared. People think it's a very simple and easy process but it's a bit more complicated than that. As you can see, a very delicate combination of complex ingredients is the key. First, we put in some random thoughts. And then, we add a little bit of reminiscences of the day... mixed with some memories from the past."
- Stephane from The Science of Sleep

I have read one dream dictionary in the past, when I was but a teenager. It was Freudian and had nothing but interpretations for all different kinds of phallic images - I threw it away immediately. As I grew older and recalled many vivid stories from my REM states, I have learned that a dream can be interpreted by the dreamer alone, and as Gael Garcia Bernal's character said in that movie, they are always in the context of: (1)what is happening around him, (2)his past, (3)his feelings (especially repressed ones) and anxieties. the dream thus can just be (a)a mixture of images pertaining to what is happening around him, what activities he is anticipating or dreading, or (b)symbols of what he is feeling.

On occasions, I immediately know what a dream means the moment I wake up. On some, it dawns on me at a later time. Some I don't bother deciphering but record anyway for their potential artistic value.

This morning's was rather disturbing because it was of me literally losing my head. I was sentenced to treason of which beheading was the punishment. I felt the blade slice my neck but I must either have fainted or severed the nerves before my brain registered the pain because I didn't feel any. The next thing I knew I was watching my own life.

And now here I am googling it.
One website says: "To be decapitated in your dream may mean that there is a strong conflict between reason (the head) and how you feel (the body), which may eventually be won by your feelings and emotions.

The head is the symbol for reason and rational thinking; therefore, if it is removed, you will not be able to think clearly, you are going to be confused and insecure. Do not let yourself ruled by your feelings or your subconscious, try to 'keep your head', do not act before you think and don't rush in when taking a decision.

Another says: "... punishment, punishing ourselves, unconsciously, as a result of guilt feelings or emotions. The dream may be showing you a negative pattern in your life that needs to be death [sic] with. It could also symbolize a need to get free of a too dominating head-you rely too much on your intellect and neglect your instincts."

And another: "... can mean you are feeling like your identity is being threatened in real life. The head would represent your personality, or who you are."

Yikes, the interpretation is much more disturbing than the dream itself. Actually, writing it in idiom form a few paragraphs back already hit bull's eye, but acknowledging what it means - means opening this Pandora's Box once again. Should I? Is there hope at the bottom of it?

"The Proposal" and "While You Were Sleeping": Spot the Similarities

2009-08-12T22:18:00.010+08:00

I got talked into watching The Proposal last week. It was the kind of movie that I would unintentionally catch on the movie channel a year after its release, but that time I was too tired to suggest something else - I just wanted to sit down and be with company.

But it is not how I liked the movie that brings me to write this. For me, what's most amusing about it are what appears to be several shoutouts to another Sandra Bullock movie (which happens to be my absolute favorite that I have seen a gazillion times) While You Were Sleeping. While the characters of Lucy (While You Were Sleeping) and Margaret (The Proposal) are polar opposites, the circumstances surrounding them are so eerily similar that I wonder if it's done on purpose.

1. Both Sandra's characters are orphans.

2. In both movies Sandra's characters are involved a fake engagement, with a guy from a close-knit family that he rarely visits.

3. Sandra's character has known the guy long before they have "hooked up". Lucy had a crush on the unknowing Peter in WYWS; Margaret has worked with Andrew for 3 years in TP.

4. Both couples share an awkward kiss in front of the family (Lucy and Jack under the mistletoe, Margaret and Andrew after they announced the "engagement").

5. Both movies involve the guy and his father having issues about the guy not wanting to take over the family business. The Callaghans (WYWS) have an estate furniture business but Jack wanted to make his own furniture. Andrew of (TP) wants to write/read books than manage the various Paxton establishments.

6. Lucy falls on ice. Margaret falls in the water.

7. There is a doting grandmother in the guy's family whom everyone fears will have a heart attack.

8. Both movies have the token cooky character - Ramon on TP and Joe Jr. in WYWS, both seeming very gay, yet displaying a somewhat perverted interest in Sandra's character.

9. Both characters have a thing about leaving their home country. For Margaret, the whole plot was all about not wanting to go back to Canada. Meanwhile, Lucy has never gone out of the country but she always brings her passport with her. It is her most fervent dream to have it stamped.

10. Lucy and Margaret both wear 1920s era wedding dresses.

11. In both movies, Sandra's character makes a confession right before the recital of wedding vows in which she gushes about how she loved her "groom's" family. (Remember Lucy saying "I fell in love with you" and the groom's father asks -"You fell in love with me?") Then she walks out.

12. The whole family goes with guy to get girl back, both in transport terminals (airport in TP and train booth in WYWS).

13. The couples (Lucy and Jack/Lucy and Peter/Margaret and Andrew) don't have sex (which each other or with other people) in the entire duration of the movie.

14. In TP, the couple falls in love in 3 days. In WYWS, about a week.

15. It's a bit of a stretch, but aren't the posters a bit similar, too?

On the other hand - in WYWS, Lucy was clad in layers and layers of clothing. Fast forward 14 years, we see Margaret (TP) in svelte outfits or a glove-short of naked. (And well-toned at that, to match the equally hot Ryan Reynolds!)
__________
* Images courtesy of wikipedia.

Project Cat Ladder

2009-07-24T19:22:00.011+08:00

"Thanks for thinking of me but I'm here now, please open the window."

I blurted out a laugh seeing Figaro sitting by the kitchen window, having come back from wherever he goes during the day. Impeccable timing, this cat has.

I was just standing at the opposite side of the room with my back to him, inspecting the new and still empty pocket garden where the remodeled kitchen and my new bedroom lead to, mulling over the design of his cat ladder. I've almost abandoned that ladder idea just to trim my very long list of mini-projects for our provincial family home reno a little bit, but this apartmenttherapy post (click here) got me to ressurecting the project.

The ladder will give Figaro direct access from my room to the roof if he needs to be let out in the ungodly hours. It'll be like the one at the elevated water tank in our backyard that he's been using, but a new one would lessen the possibility of him ruining the new window mosquito screens because the doors to my room and kitchen are glass from the outside. More importantly, no trip to the back door means better sleep for me.

Like the air conditioner support, the ladder will be made from recycled iron grills and painted in the same color as the wall. I'm gravitating toward Option 2, it's a happy medium.

So now, who's to say this isn't true? Cats Control Humans, Study Finds.

arduous task ahead

2009-07-21T22:40:00.007+08:00

Liquid photocopied handouts, ahhhh, the sweet sweet scent of college.

And de-cluttering.

Meanwhile,

some old DIY artwork from my old apartment,
thrift store pottery,
a 10-month old lamp just out of the box
are temporarily in place

just to make my new bedroom cozier and look a little bit more lived in
before the exciting stuff of decorating begins.

tapestry

2009-06-27T18:34:00.000+08:00

- Fabrics from last Sunday's Divisoria shopping.

When you can't afford or can't decide to change furniture/paint/drill holes through your walls/embark on a major remodel - using fabric is an age-old solution. It's cheap, and it allows you to be as fickle as you can be. Moreso if you can find mod prints that are dirt-cheap (as the case was in Tabora St. in Divisoria) - the possibilities could even be more exciting than getting a spankin' new sofa.

Funny that this fabric-hoarding day-out can turn out to be an epiphany for much-needed wisdom. I guess it's not so bad when the way to real change isn't paved for us as soon as we would like it. Maybe people need not define himself to be one thing or the other. Maybe they can be like a myriad of fabric slipcovers that are interchangeable at any given time. Maybe they can forget about the old sofa or paint color for a while and just revel in the many things that inspire them and make them feel alive.

dream diary #103: the pillow-cabinet-pose puzzle

2009-06-21T20:16:00.008+08:00

There are strange dreams that make you dig deep into your subconscious in vain. And then there are semi-strange dreams that simply mirror your mundane daytime preoccupations. This recent dream was a no-brainer. One of the Top Design Season 2 finalists, Preston Lee, already made a cameo in my dream a month ago (along with characters of a TV show I'm equally addicted to). These days, I cannot content myself watching TD reruns alone, I also watch the replays of the reruns, so I guess it's no surprise for one of the judges to play a starring role in another dream, now infused with excitement about going somewhere after a month's absence.

Here's how it went:

Margaret Russell, editor-in-chief of Elle Decor magazine was my yoga teacher. She was rather cross with the class because the students weren't working hard enough. After a stern talking-to, she shifted her mood to teach us a rather special pose. It involved a pillow and a cabinet, or more like... a box that's very similar to the one in Tori Amos' Little Earthquakes album cover. We're supposed to do an inversion inside the cabinet (box), pressing our bodies around the 4 sides of box, and propped by a pillow.

Margaret said, each individual's version of the pose is as unique as the individuals themselves, so she provided us with individual pillows and cabinets, that came with instructions. These instructions were supposed to be different for each person, which I thought Margaret deduced from her interactions with us. I was impressed and excited about what I will be learning, and a bit incredulous that someone world-renowned (though renowned in a different field altogether) taught at this center. I even whispered in a classmates' ear, "aren't we lucky we're being taught by the best?"

Soon, a lady from outside began to give us these props, calling each of our names. It's taking a while but I'm thinking, well, I shouldn't mind - this is as personalized as a class can get. In the midst of this, Margaret waved and called out to me by name, in Filipino, "don't leave yet!" which I'm not sure if (a)she thought I was getting impatient about the process (b)she meant not to leave the yoga center, because (in waking life) I was planning to take classes elsewhere (nearer to home) after my 1-year enrollment expires next month. In my mind, I know I'll still come to this center even just occasionally, having felt a sense of community here. And all the more reason to do so, with no less than Margaret Russell in the faculty.

My pillow and cabinet were one of the last ones to be distributed. I was puzzled to see that they were no different from my classmates', even down to the embroidered pillowcases. I absolutely adored the embroidery that resembled those on peasant blouses, but all I could think about was, "what in the world was the fuss about it being personalized all about?" I peeled off the a piece of paper from the pillow-wrappings, hoping that the essence really came from the instructions on how to do the pose, but there was nothing there except for a manual on how to put on the pillowcases.

__________
* Photos courtesy of Design*Sponge (Margaret Russell) and Wikipedia (Little Earthquakes).

exhumed

2009-06-15T19:19:00.013+08:00

In the wake of a home remodeling, we've been living in rubble for a couple of months now. Our stuff are hauled in boxes and garbage bags, and like ourselves, moving from room to room, awaiting their refurbished cribs.

I told myself not to look at these stuff for now - lest I prematurely be struck by an urge to do serious sorting. I'm saving my energy for that activity for when there'd be enough space around here - and for when I'd have the time, too. I indulged in a little sneak peek reading through over-a-decade-old journals and letters when I took them out of my old closet weeks ago, but that was it. As it is, I have enough on my plate with choice of paint colors, crown mouldings, etc. and working around mini-disasters like discovering manufacturing defects on the tiles I've painstakingly chosen after all of them have been installed.

Today, Mom was moving out the last few stuff from her room and showing me some items of old. Some best forgotten (and bookmarked for disposal come Sorting Day) like a pink "lace" floral scarf with fringes, a telephone cover set with chintz-y prints and ruffles (or were those electric pleats?) in dusty rose - both received as gifts, and a number of thingamajig-ceramic-container-wedding-slash-baptism-giveaways.

But there were a couple of moments when I reached out my hand and shouted "gimme gimme!" One was for a palm-sized Pentax binoculars (we actually have 2 other bigger ones but this will be a more handy device for impromptu bird-watching or maybe stalking). The other was for this... Funny that she asked me, "I wonder who would want this thing?".

I remember having only a handful of childhood pictures from this Polaroid camera - the film was too expensive, and soon we've forgotten we had this. Oh, I hope it still works and I can still find (and afford) film around here.

Absolutely Adorable: Repurposed Table As Cat Bed

2009-06-06T01:28:00.005+08:00

Spotted from ohdeedoh, originally from this blog.

I definitely wouldn't mind vicariously enjoying a four-poster bed through my furry friend. Especially if it's in my all-time favorite color like this table-resurrected-as-bed in the picture.

This morning I saw a DIY show make the same kind of project (but with less tasteful colors and fabrics) and was appalled that the host lay down dolls on the bed after it was made. All the while I was thinking how preposterous an idea that was when I reread ohdeedoh post and realized why it was called "Kid Friendly Transformation". These were probably more commonly made for dolls. After all, most cats don't care much for dedicated sleeping quarters and can just plop themselves down anywhere they please.

Well, the maker of this bed really did have kitty in mind. As far as cuteness is concerned, I'm totally with her.

The Best Things In Life Are "Free"

2009-06-05T02:13:00.029+08:00

Such was the case of technology saving the day. And possibly, a dream.

I had some creative material I've been holding on to since 1996 and been thinking of publishing since 1999. One of them, I actually wrote when I was 7 years old. Several factors including forgetfulness, procrastination, lukewarm reception, fear, etc. etc. kept the project from moving.

The recent years that I felt motivated to resurrect the project - I spent trying to locate the manuscript. Mentally, for the most part, but finally this year, an actual physical search.

I did a sweep of all possible hard copy locations in vain. As for the soft copy, I'm not sure if I would luck out on it even if I do find the file, since my attempts at cracking the password since the year 2000 were futile. I was amazed that almost all of my 7 year-old (or older) floppy disks are still intact but I finally found the file in a 7 year-old CD-ROM. My hurrah at seeing it uncorrupted was for naught, though - I still can't remember the password.

I've had pretty standard passwords for as long as I can remember and ironically, the origin of my mother password had something to do with this manuscript. So how can it not be that or any of its variations? Or any other possible and silly thing I can think of? I began to feel depressed that, unless I rewrite these stories from scratch, this project won't ever see print. Not even for just my own kids to enjoy.

Today I found myself clicking that folder where the file was and struck by an inspiration. I asked a friend if he knew of a solution. He directed me to something that worked quite perfectly, but alas, being free, offered limited results. Two more attempts - same limited results. One of them did help by giving clues and I thought, that's good enough for me to remember the rest. But then it revealed that while I did use my mother password to protect file modification, the first few characters of the password to open were totally unrecognizable. Sigh. Nothing is free after all.

Oh but wait... that's not entirely true. For some things, all it takes is decent internet connection and time. And shame. And the offshoot problem that if it works, I have to find some other effective way to encrypt my other private files. Well, it did work. And right now, happiness at seeing my 13 year-old work again trumps this "price" for now.

The password? It's from one of Matt Damon's late 90s movies.

More Piano, Less Makeup - I Want My Old Tori Back!

2009-05-29T01:45:00.021+08:00

To call Tori Amos’ work “mediocre” or “uninspired” is almost sacrilegious to her most loyal of fans, myself included.

I avoided those words when I delivered my review of her 2007 album American Doll Posse with a thin coat of sugar, even if my Posse CD has, since, a mileage of less than 5 full playbacks and even if I barely recall anything more than three-quarters of one song and mere single lines from about 3 others. I owed that to a matter of preference. Tori lost me after her foray into heavier piano-less sound in Choirgirl, and picked up Scarlet and Beekeeper which was for me were a more familiar Tori in instrumentation and spirit.

Yep, call me the fan in the “soft” (i.e., piano) Tori spectrum. While I do respect the range of musical stylings present in Posse, in retrospect, it lacked emotional connection – something that even her most cryptic of lyrics and most bizarre arrangements in her early-90s albums were rich with. And that was what made Tori so great to me – the music transcended the surrealism of her words. You listen to her wanting to kill a waitress, taking the Lord’s name in vain, you conjure dirty abstract images in your head – and yet, you feel the songs speaking to/about you clearly. Like magic, it was as if the Bösendorfer and harpsichords lent perfect sense to them somehow. (Why, people even created graphic novels out of her songs.)

Meanwhile, there’s her recent release, Abnormally Attracted To Sin. And I go, “can I say ‘huh’ now?”

It has its share of heavy and slow tempo arrangements, so I can’t fault it by being too much of a rock album. Predictably, Police Yourself and Strong Black Vine, the most drowned in heavy rhythms are my least favorites.

I do fault it for being… blah. Alright, Fire To Your Plain does have a catchy tune, Welcome To England has the recognizable sweetness in Tori’s elongating of her vowels, and Flavor (my favorite track) mirrors the soulfulness of Beekeeper (plus reminds me of that Bush song from the Buffy The Vampire Slayer soundtrack). The rest seem to be forgettable tracks. A 17-track record is not necessarily too long – but this one is because I’m waiting in vain for a gem. My ears just stop paying attention after track #12.

It’s nice that That Guy starts out nicely like snake charmer’s music, and that there are vibes of other-worldliness and tribal in Give and Not Dying Today, respectively. Touches of eclecticism, sure, but so wanting in the quirkiness and wit that made me love good old Mr. Zebra, Happy Phantom, Past The Mission and Wrong Band so much. Mary Jane has a little hint of that, but not enough to make you smile in wonderment.

Maybe California, with its string accompaniment, evokes a familiar mood as Gold Dust and Toast from a few years ago, and even ends in a similar minor chord. Overall, though the whole record somehow pictures Tori as a more complete and stronger woman – albeit detached and devoid of any vulnerability. Plus, there is absolutely no sign of Tori’s haunting piano anywhere!

What doesn’t help and this was also why Posse didn’t leave me with a stronger impact – was that whatever initial impressions I have of the tracks has little room for "growing on" because... I have no idea what any of these songs are about. And it’s not that they’re odd, it's because apart from choruses… they’re just plain unintelligible! Whether it is the synths and guitars or the accent drowning the vocals, it totally robs the songs of their personalities. While I give up on making out Tori’s garbled speech, I mentally try to find aural cues by finding similarities from old albums just in an attempt to connect to the songs. (For instance, is the title track in any way connected to Original Sin-suality?) But after the comparisons, the connection ends.

As a last note, I can’t help but notice there are some traces of the “dolls” here (yeah, I’m looking at the blonde wig in the Fire To Your Plain video and super-straightened hair on TV guestings). I hope it stops before anybody notices that makeup amount and costume outlandishness level are inversely proportional to quality of music.

Rating: ***

Questions I Desperately Need Answers To, Pt. 2

2009-05-20T20:39:00.003+08:00

... answers which I hope everyone gets same time next year when Lost bids us farewell. This is just a random list from the top of my head - a few really. If I pool every avid viewer's list I'm sure it'll be much longer. All these questions (not easy ones, mind you, and some are carry-overs from my previous post-Season 3 list) and just about 20 remaining episodes come fall. They better keep their promise! Nobody would want a movie version to forcibly tie up loose ends.

The Season 5 Finale endframe -

A negative of their usual title frame (white font on black background)
which may be a metaphorical foreshadowing of the theme of reversal.

1. Did the Others not time travel when the island "moved"?

2. Why didn't Sun, Ben and (dead) Locke go back to 1977 like the rest of the Oceanic 5?

3. Who is Jacob and what are his motivations? Why did he appear at some point in the Oceanic survivors' lives? What was the significance of his touch? Why did he appear to Hurley post-island and to the others pre-crash?

4. Who was that man who wants to kill Jacob? Was he the being behind the Smoke Monster? Is he the force that reanimated dead Christian Shepard, Locke and all other dead guys who made apparitions on the island? What is this "loophole" that he says Jacob will find?

5. Why are Richard and Jacob immortal? Or do they just time travel?

6. What is the island? What's up with women having fatal pregnancies and people getting cured of their diseases (except Ben)?

7. What ever happened to Claire?

8. What's the magic behind the numbers? It was on the Swan door and Desmond's password but how did it affect Hurley and all the other loonies who knew about it?

9. What is the aftermath of detonating Jughead? Will it cause Oceanic 815 to land safely? Will Juliet live and remain as an Other and Ben's sex slave? Will Faraday be alive? Will Desmond never leave the hatch? Or has everything happened, happened? Has history really changed or was everything meant to happen in the first place?

10. Why is Libby in that asylum with Hurley and did she know about the island to send Desmond there on her husband's boat?

11. What was so special about Walt that he seemed to have as much affinity to the island as Lock has?

12. What's the consequence of not bringing Aaron back to the island? What was the mystery surrounding him that has been alluded to before he was born (by the fortuneteller, Others kidnapping Claire) and up to now (Jack and Kate being told in dreams or visions that they're not supposed to raise him)? Will he grow up to be Jacob?

13. What happened to Ben from the time he was brought to the Smoke Monster to when he kills off all the Dharma-folk?

14. Who are the Others and how did they come to live on the island with Jacob?

15. If the Dharmaville Genocide occurred sometime in the 80s and someone hired Desmond to press the Swan button in present day, then the Dharma Initiative was never rendered inactive (also, the food drops never ceased). Who of the 70s Dharma guys are still around? But if Widmore was behind Desmond's island gig all along - how is he connected to DI?

The long wait starts. Meanwhile, I took this quiz. Not an easy one, either- I got a measly 78/100.

dream diary #99: oceanic survivors, a top design finalist and me

2009-05-14T13:28:00.013+08:00

I posted this status update on my Facebook page the other day:

#1 sign you're addicted to lost -
you're watching a brad pitt movie and when he narrates,
"my name is benjamin..." you're sure he'll complete the sentence with,
"benjamin linus".

And now an even graver sign - seems that the series (and another reality show I'm following) is even creeping into my subconscious as well...

I was walking around my old high school, back and fourth the corridors of grade schoolers, contemplating that I should teach here at least once in my life. English, maybe?

Then I found myself watching a movie in a theater-like venue and it seemed the movie was about the fates of the Oceanic Flight 815 survivors in the fictional TV show Lost. In the movie, there was an ambiguous part wherein a man (or monster) dressed up like a soldier was inflated back to life. It was unclear in the movie whether this man was a rescuer or something brought to the island to kill everyone. Back at school the next day, the next events that unfolded made me suddenly become part of that show. I was with Jack, Kate, Sawyer and a whole bunch of other people I knew from real life, plus a newfound friend, a really tall handsome (gay) guy who might just be Preston Lee, one of the stronger finalists of Top Design Season 2 (who became blond in this dream). We watched as this man/monster resurrected from its box. Unfortunately for us, he turned out to be a killer.

We ran for our lives, to the gym, where there were a lot of people and thus he won't easily recognize us. I didn't know I could run that fast. A few people were already settled in the gym bleachers, including Jack, Kate and Sawyer. The latter two were on top of the bleachers seemingly engaged in a very intimate conversation and this upset Jack. So upset that when I asked him for help, to grab my hand because I was having trouble climbing their part of the bleachers, he refused. When did Jack turn to be so callous? Eventually he helped me out but it was only a few moments later that we felt the "soldier" monster had followed us to the gym.

Chaos ensued and we quickly ran down the bleachers again. I concentrated on sliding down the steps, that wasn't so difficult, but when I thought I was far enough to be safe, I also realized that I've separated myself from the others. Maybe that's just the best thing that could happen. The monster will have trouble getting us all now.

Outside the school, people were all waiting for their rides home. An acquaintance was talking to me, obviously not aware of what was really happening and was offering me a ride. But I said I'm staying for a while. When I said that, I wasn't sure why, then I realized I wanted to wait for the others. Surely they'd go out this way, too. I didn't wait very long, for a small group of my former companions came out of the gate and was to ride a jeepney. I took one of their hands and we hugged tight, it was a reunion of relief (that we were all safe) and longing. I felt I belonged with these people.

I wept out of exhaustion and happiness at finding these people again. I was hoping someone would comfort me but I guess everyone was crying inwardly, too that nobody had any energy to reach out. Then I asked the girl beside me, what happened to the others? Instead of telling me about the other survivors, she told me all about this group of guys from a younger batch in my high school and what they do now. I let her finish then so as not to embarrass her, I whispered to her ear "I meant Jack, Kate and Sawyer, what happened to them?"

I wasn't expecting the response. I thought they just headed to a different direction or traveled to another time, but when she started to speak with tears in her eyes, a lump formed in my throat. They were all dead. The monster soldier killed them. The girl even had a record of "The Incident" in what appears to be a small TV. I didn't bother to see it and was overcome by a wave of sadness. I then wondered what happened to everybody else not on this jeepney - Juliet? Sun? Sayid?

As our jeepney made a turn into a beautiful boulevard, I guess all we have to do is to be thankful that we're alive. I squeezed the hand of the person sitting at the opposite side of the jeepney (who happened to be Preston's) and smiled.

Lost Season 5 finale is on tonight at Wednesday, US time 9/10c.

___________
* Photo credits from http://thegirlfromtheghetto.wordpress.com and http://bloggingtopdesign.blogspot.com/

Win-Win

2009-05-06T23:58:00.012+08:00

Even in the sea of leopard print, Figaro knows he is only allowed to sleep in that corner known as his bed.

One day about a month ago, I've decided to put my foot down and do something about the cat hair situation on my bed. While completely banning the cat from the bed is not an option, I knew instantly how to make Figaro confine himself to just one area and have the rest of the bed for people to enjoy. But no, it didn't involve treats or a good pat on the back. One thing about cats is that there's no such thing as "obeying" a human. If the humans grasp their logic, then all is well.

In this case, I knew that if I put anything on the bed - like my (newly-pressed) clothes or my backpack, or even my reading material - Figaro is likely to make a beeline for it and flop himself right down even when there's still a wide expanse of empty bedspace around him. I don't know, maybe it's a warmth thing. The more layers of stuff he has under him, the warmer and more snug he is or something. So brilliant me pulled out a couple of underused leopard-print throw pillow covers (yeah, it has to be themed), placed them at the corner of my bed and had Figaro try it. Everytime he puts as much as a claw or the end of his tail outside that area, I am quick to push it within his boundaries. He "learned" it in no time. He would once or twice extend a paw out of bounds or deliberately lie on the wrong side of the bed but I know too well that it's not because the "lesson" hasn't gotten through - because when that happens, it's always with that mocking look, as if to test if I'm really serious about this rule.

I'm happy I get to enjoy my fresh sheets longer now. But why do I feel deep inside that this is a false feeling of triumph - that I didn't outsmart the cat one bit? Maybe those extra cushions were what he wanted all along.

"A cat sees no good reason why it should obey another animal,
even if it does stand on two legs."
- Sarah Thompson

Up Next (and this will be quite a challenge): How Not To Step On Computer Keyboard When Need To Cross It.

Figaro finds the mouse appetizing.

PBA0902079p8

Depot-hopping Treasure

2009-05-06T00:33:00.020+08:00

Four home depots and four items on my list. That's how my day went with the aim of getting materials for my parents' bathroom renovation. Was on my fourth and last store and still without anything crossed out from my list when I chanced upon these. *Gasp* And I thought steering clear of malls kept me safe from impulse buys! Well, at least I have this as a consolation to an otherwise unproductive day.

Perfect for mother's day, this would look great on my mom's dresser.

And my dresser. ;) They kinda look like those tooled leather bags that went in fashion in the early '90s, eh?

I got the bigger one to take care of the clutter situation near my nightstand.
Here's my revamped "old world" nook:

Figaro sniffs for the hidden treasure.

I was tempted to get another oversized one in pleather with an ancient world map design, but pretty as it is, the price was too much for a storage box. Maybe next time.

Faux vintage trunks made of plywood/pleather/fabric/brass,
all from Wilcon Home Depot Pasong Tamo, Makati.
Prices range from P250-P1000+ depending on size and material.

Batman's Guide To Fashion

2009-05-04T18:14:00.007+08:00

"Holy haberdashery, Batman!"
- Robin

Forget the brooding Wolverine and his non-CGI muscles for a while. Peyups'* resident caped crusader, Batman (as he is popularly known) can put a smile on your face, as UP* students and joggers who frequent the academic oval would probably know.

You'd usually find him in the sidelines, sitting on the sidewalk or standing at a corner, motioning his hands as if to show pedestrians their way. Clad in shorts, rainboots, a cape, a mask, and two toy swords sheathed on either side of his hip, you would think he's our garden variety superhero. If you see him often enough, though, you'll notice he sure knows how to tweak his costume for an occasion.

Last year, around June/July, he was spotted sporting an Independence Day-themed outfit, with the Philippine flag for a cape. Yesterday morning, as an obvious shoutout to the Pacquiao-Hatton fight that was to start a few hours later, he was standing in the middle of the road in front of the Music building, trading his usual footwear for a pair of sports shoes, with complementary elbow and knee pads and... oversized boxing gloves.

Now I don't remember anymore if he normally wore boxing gloves as part of his ensemble, but he certainly gave it more pizzazz yesterday. There was one jogger who jokingly circled and threw air punches at him. He didn't budge and remained tall and invincible-looking, and made a 360-degree turn for his amused Sunday audience.

__________
*University of the Philippines

Vegan Buffet at Ananda Marga

2009-05-04T15:20:00.001+08:00

For a healthy, alternative Saturday night out, try a spread of sentient vegetarian dishes
from the Ananda Marga Yoga Center's quarterly vegan buffet.

Plus...
Cultural show
Live eclectic music
Yoga demo
Wellness talks

30 May, 2009, 6pm
Ananda Marga Yoga Center
46 Maamo St., Sikatuna Village, Quezon City

Tickets are at P500/pax.

Food's great, I can tell you that. It's also for a good cause. Proceeds will be for the benefit of AM's aeta community in Bataan and other socio-civic projects.

For tickets and inquiries,
Contact me
Or call Ananda Marga QC - +632 9246068 / +63928 4421373

I Hate Apartment Therapy

2009-05-01T13:59:00.007+08:00

apartmenttherapy.com

Not really. I actually love it to bits, but I just hate it that it gives me nothing short of a heart attack everytime I check in for a much-needed idea-boost. I think it updates at least twice a day, and sometimes, with no less than 5 pages worth of updates! With pretty, pretty pictures that I just cannot leave without a closer look.

I guess it's because they cover 6 US cities, and each correspondent has his/her share of daily updates of local house tours, tips and what-nots. Not to mention the main site's contests and the weekly roundups (to remind you of the pretty things you have missed). The effect is just dizzying. But in a good way.

The other day they announced that they were looking for bloggers to cover the Boston & New England area and since, I've been relishing the idea of becoming an AT correspondent. I wonder when they'll expand to cover Asia Pacific - I'll be the first to sign up.

Oh, what am I still doing here? I have 5 pages to catch up on. Maybe more if I'm not quick enough.

Sleepless Night

2009-04-27T05:48:00.005+08:00

Without meaning to, I've finally gotten around to customizing the look of this blog. I knew this was going to mean trouble but am happy with how it turned out. Quite predictable - but very me.

Color palette shows a little less of my lime green trademark but still revolves around the "bruise" colors that I like so much.
The multistripe - I love Paul Smith stripes! This was customized to my palette but I realize that repeating the pastels in the larger areas of the page would make it look like a baby's room so I decided to make the dominant shades darker.
The essential kitties - That's a picture of Figaro, artsy-fied a bit to leave him some inch of privacy. For a little "edge", I "clipped" on a couple of my brother's drawings, the same ones I used in my mirror personal site.
Widened the main blog space to lessen scrolling when reading through it.

Well, not that anyone would notice, but I think it was worth losing sleep over. I just hope this is the last time I'll ever go on a blog-related all-nighter. Have a good week!

Earth Links

2009-04-23T14:45:00.010+08:00

This week's episode of Top Design Season 2 at the local cable channel was timely for Earth Day with their green office challenge. Sadly, my favorite "character" Wisit got eliminated (that opera number must be the best reality TV exit ever aired in my book). But it was also this episode that introduced me to the guest judge, American eco-lifestyle expert and designer Danny Seo.

After a few clicks from google, I also learned Danny and I are not only passionate about same cause, we also share the same b-earthday! Check out his blog here.

"Danny Seo is living proof

that you can save the world
without sacrificing style."
- Elle

As a belated Earth Day effort, am sharing two other websites from my link list.

One is Re-Nest: Abundant Design For Green Homes - from the same authors as apartmenttherapy.com, one of my main interior design inspiration sources.

Being green need not be blah. Trash chic is trés chic.

In photo: ‘Classic Bear Skin Rug’ by Lise Lefebvre

Along the same vein is Curbly: DIY Design Community, which features more of DIY projects.

A friend wrote on my Facebook page: "There's a reason why you celebrate the same birthday as Mommy Earth." That couldn't be any more true. I've been a fan of recycling ever since I can remember but before the environmental awareness kicked in, I always thought of it as just me being a cheapskate. Who knows, the next green link on my list could be my own!

Belated Happy Earth Day everyone.

____________
* Note: All photos courtesy of respective websites.

Life Lessons From Sesame Street

2009-04-06T18:06:00.013+08:00

My Sesame Street Old School DVD volumes have finally arrived and I've been watching them ardently with my 2 year-old niece. (Let me emphasize, though, that I got the DVDs for myself.) I might write separately about my thoughts on the DVDs, but offhand, I feel so lucky to be part of the generation that grew up with this revolutionary show.

It's nostalgia galore alright, but now that I'm done learning my ABCs, I'm seeing the show with adult eyes - and having new appreciation for its genius. Watching the muppet sketches is like having Saturday Night Live on kids mode. And the music! Not only did it reflect the era with the folksy tunes of the late 60s and 70s rock and roll and funk, it showcased the whole spectrum - country, classical, Hindu-inspired, and what-have-you melded with your good old theatrical numbers.

Beyond the wit and the music - I never thought this boxed set has yet another lesson in store for my adult self. Take this film that was included in the Season 6 (1974) premiere. "Go ahead and touch, go ahead and feel". Let the wonderment of discovering something new envelope us. Be it about opening up to other people or adventures, we all need to be told this once in a while no matter how old we are.

See video below.

Go ahead and touch
Go ahead and feel
Reach out and see
If what you see is real
Go ahead and push
Hop right on and ride
Try to reach or wonder
Of what's there inside

Don't be scared
Don't be shy
If something beautiful
Catches your eye

Go ahead and touch
Go ahead and feel
Don't think too much
About the way you feel

You might never have a chance again
And you'll have to remember when
You were afraid to feel
Something warm, and rich, and real.

Figaro Lately

2009-03-27T22:39:00.004+08:00

Without saying a word, this cat screams “photoshoot!”

The multi-purpose desk in my room lately serves as an office for a personal project I’m working on. There’s a large empty bed with newly-changed sheets at his disposal but somehow Figaro chooses to hop on the desk, trudge on my laptop and settle on top of the paraphernalia, and not leave at all – as if to drive the point that I am invading one of his favorite hangouts – the top of the TV.

Okay, point taken. Oh but wait, the lighting’s perfect and Figaro’s feeling uncharacteristically cooperative...

Bantay and Muning's 30 Seconds of Fame

2009-03-20T13:10:00.004+08:00

Jessica Zafra's blog is holding a contest of sorts in support of the Philippine Animal Welfare Society (PAWS)-Purina "Homeless, Not Worthless" campaign on adoption of stray animals. I only learned of this recently so I hope my entry makes it. Anyway, around this time 7 years ago was the time Figaro first came to our lives. And for that, prizes or none, I've posted a little something (see previous post below) as a tribute.

If you haven't seen the PAWS TVCs, click here (for the dog "Bantay" version) and here ("Siyam", the cat version). I'd nominate it for a Best Casting (and acting) award if I could - it was like the Slumdog Millionaire child cast, only with animals. Seriously, huge props to the director and the rest of the production team for capturing these real-life heart-tugging scenes. Apart from Bantay and Muning's cuteness, I do hope the campaign gets people to be more sensitive to our street animals and consider giving them a home. Speaking from experience, with at least one proper bath and a balanced diet, they will equal, if not surpass the cuteness of their pedigreed peers.

I’m curious though, were those animals trained actors or did the production team really roamed the streets and waited til they caught these footage?

Figaro Journal #1: Seven Years, A Retrospect

2009-03-20T13:08:00.005+08:00

Here's my entry to the "Pets Make Us Human" contest from Jessica Zafra's blog.

If not for overheard conversations, I would’ve thought I was born into a life of total comfort. I’ve no memory of my feral past. They say I was brought here by a then-girlfriend of one of the family’s. My family was a bunch who was used to tabbies and tortoiseshells sneaking in their backyard to take a dump, have dinner, spend the night or give birth to a litter of elusive critters. Little did they know that a black and white tuxedo cat would be their first official feline family member.

I’m not sure what it was about me that endeared me to them. Maybe it was my penchant for biting their toes and lying on their tummies at night. Maybe they missed the cat (who would have been their first real cat pet, and they almost named me after) that had gone missing months before I lived with them. Maybe it was just that all the kids have outgrown their asthma. Or maybe they realized in the end that I was much cuter than all other-marked cats they were used to.

I have to give it to them for still letting me live in their house after doing several #2s on top of their closets when I was a baby and even fed me cat food when I wouldn’t eat table scraps. I didn’t mean to be such a brat – perhaps there was something about my streetwalker past that made me scorn human food (except the sweets, though). Perhaps something traumatic that I don’t remember.

Past aside, I know they’re proud of me now, the little stray all toilet-trained, well-traveled and very photogenic (plus, occasional blogger). Like I told Santa last Christmas, I hope that everybody else in the streets find such luck as mine.

Prelude Post: Bantay and Muning's 30 Seconds of Fame

economizing starts in the bathroom

2009-03-19T12:07:00.008+08:00

Here's a nifty tip from a very enthusiastic discussion on whether there's a right and wrong way to put toilet paper on the holder.

Photo grabbed from http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/ny/bathroom/which-is-correct-001833

I know we're all trying every way possible to cut costs these days, so I just wanted to share that there's an economics angle to this debate - apparently, toilet paper that rolls from the bottom (i.e., commonly known as the "wrong way") can make us use less toilet paper. Makes sense - having toilet paper roll from the top ("right way") does make one get more than what he needs. Maybe the waterfall-like image somehow registers as "abundance" or maybe it's just easier to pull a lot more sheets that way.

The cat-angle was also covered by those who favor the "wrong way" which I can totally relate to. Now, when your cat decides to have fun with your roll, you're in for some major wastage. Figaro has outgrown that habit already, but still it wouldn't hurt to put it backwards, for my own economics.

I'm-a try it right now.

Signs Of the Times, Indeed

2009-03-18T22:05:00.012+08:00

I cannot begin to tell you why Metro Manila roadsigns have always been a pet peeve of mine.

Most recently, it's the growing number of text-heavy traffic signage that irks me. A No U-Turn sign with a "No U-Turn" text under it - some hot pink, some green, some the standard red-and-white. Really tiny reminder notices on the color coding scheme only (barely) visible to vehicles on EDSA's leftmost lane. A sign saying "Don't change lanes/overtake on yellow solid lines, cross on broken lines only."* Errrr, shouldn't all drivers know that before they got licenses? I've learned that when I was 8, back when the LTO road manual was in my bathroom reading fare. (I wonder if they still have these things now.)

If those weren't enough, nowadays new Tagalog signages have been put up. That's great, except these are only for selected signs. And what about drivers who can only read other dialects? The reason why the traditional traffic signs were developed was for these signs to be language neutral and instantly recognizable - not pose as a safety hazard while you are trying to figure out what they're saying. And they aren't short texts, either. Most of those I've seen are at least 2 lines long, and do not even come in standard phrasing when appearing in different sites. Obviously I didn't catch all of these "messages"' 'cause I had to keep an eye on the road (and new billboards I will probably have something to say about, too).

But this one, I think, hits an all-time low. Sighted today along Northbound EDSA (near Cubao area):

"Gumitna lang po ang private
vehicles sa lane. Huwag gumitgit,
makakarating din kayo sa pupuntahan."**

Whoa. That's not even in the league of that in-your-face "Walang tawiran, nakamamatay" (which may have been effective, albeit still inappropriate, as an annotation to the chickenwire fences), if that's what they're thinking. Official roadsigns now resorting to sarcasm is as crude as posing traffic enforcers as human signage and not fostering road courtesy at all. And what's with the singling out of private vehicles? Is hogging more than one lane now the sole privilege of PUVs?

I know I am shooting for the moon here to wish that we invest on an honest-to-goodness Drivers Ed program. Then we would probably need less pink chickenwire fences and intersection roadblocks and no longer need to change signage and their color schemes because people don't seem to get them. Right now, I can only sigh.

___________
* Paraphrased
** "Private vehicles, please stay within your lanes. Avoid driving between lane markers. You'll get to where you're going, too."
*** "No pedestrian crossing, may cause death."

{In Case You Stumble Upon This} This Is Me Saying Thanks, Stranger!

2009-03-17T21:57:00.013+08:00

Early last week there was an Oprah episode about rudeness, which also promoted a book discussing the same (though more of the opposite). This modern age of hurriedness and impersonality does need reminders like these – going back to the basic Good Manners and Right Conduct in relating to people. Manners, after all, as is the concept of being a lady and a gentleman, should be taken as neither something superficial nor archaic. In its sincere form, civility is simply, respect and kindness – ergo, is never outdated.

Incidentally, a case in point was my very experience the night before that. I was walking back to my car with a couple of grocery bags in hand at a mall’s basement parking, when I noticed that another car was kind of blocking mine. Now this parking level had a rather irregular layout at the area near the supermarket. There were slots lined up along a narrow corner (where my car was), and in front of these were slots amply accommodating only a couple more cars. I’ve parked here a few times before and never saw a potential problem because there were lines on the floor and sometimes guards/carwash boys to guide drivers. This wayward car, however, has parked itself beside the “legal” slots in front – probably out of ignorance or, more likely, laziness to find a proper space. The driver probably thought the cars along the corner will have enough room to maneuver their way out anyway. Yeah, technically, there was some room. Which would've been comfortable to drive out of if we were all driving Smart cars, are used to parking in the streets of Divisoria and aren't girls whose autos lack power steering. Great.

Meanwhile a guy was walking ahead of me and was quietly staring at the same car with the same look of disbelief. Oh, he’s parked along the corner, too. Worse – his car faced the wall and he now has to back it up and turn very carefully so as not to hit this idiot. I put my grocery bags in the car but stayed outside to assess my predicament. Then I watched as the guy backed up the tight space. There was a threateningly sharp curve on the way out – I didn’t want to end up trapped there but if this guy’s sedan can fit, so could mine. I walked closer anyway to check the difficulty level and waited.

It was a good thing I had my car backed up against the wall and ready to cruise, for the guy was reversing in tiny increments and kept opening his door to check how close to a fender-bender he was getting. I probably distracted him with the hovering (and not helping) that he stepped out of his car to check on me. We shared an exasperated look and shook our heads in the direction of the errant parker. After asking a twice if I could manage and me assuring him I’ll be totally okay if he gets out of there in one piece, he resumed his drudgery. A few more forward and backward maneuvering (that had it been me and my pawis steering would’ve resulted to arms as toned as Michelle Obama's in no time), he got through, scot-free.

Then it was my turn. Compared to the guy, I had a breeze. I noticed he stayed anyway and pulled over to another aisle to let me head to the exit first. He got out and had a word with the too-late-the-heroine lady guard who just walked in, who apologized to both of us for letting this happen on her watch. I tell myself, awwwwwwww, what a decent chap. So extra-mile decent that ironically, in my amazement, I may have forgotten my own manners a bit. I remember waving thanks before I drove off but on hindsight, I’m now unsure if he caught that. Hence, this ode of sorts is in lieu of a proper thanks.

In the show, Oprah/PM Forni quoted Peggy Tabor Millin,

“We never touch people so lightly that we do not leave a trace.”

to emphasize how the slightest rudeness can affect us. But so can a simple act of kindness – moreso even. That’s what I’m thanking you mostly for, stranger, for that reminder that it does make a lot of difference. And for that I should try to put a smile on someone's face more often.

Lights Out for Earth Hour

2009-03-17T15:02:00.011+08:00

Sneaking out of my temporary blog banishment for a sec
to post this important announcement.

On Saturday, 28 March 2009. 830pm.

VOTE EARTH
by simply
switching off your lights
for one hour.
Join the world for
Earth Hour.

I will!

Do block off this little pocket of time,
set your alarm clocks
and spread the word.

(Find out more by clicking this link and watching this video.
Or see widget on my side-panel.)

Finally, Once

2009-02-22T14:06:00.005+08:00

I've said before that I've always loved movies about music. This was the main reason I've always wanted to see this film, as I've fallen in love with the soundtrack ever since I heard the Academy Award-winning Falling Slowly last year.

But I'm also a fan of movies that make me cry (and this one made me weep at the very end, unexpectedly), those that end happily without the cliche grand gestures (well, there was a piano, but it wasn't a grand piano, was it?), the ones that exercise restraint (not a-one kiss!) and those that keep it real... and remind us that there are these special people meant to touch our lives briefly but immensely but maybe never meant to stay.

Once was all that - two lovelorn people, struggling musicians alike, meeting, making music and never getting to say goodbye - a vignette that succeeds in its very simplicity. The music (written and performed by the two lead actors) is cast as a character in its own right - the subtle narrator/thought bubble of the leads' struggles and histories.

Plus, Glen Hansard looks like a younger version of Hugh Laurie (with some Peter Krause and Kenneth Branagh bits thrown in), one more bonus point for me.

__________
* Image courtesy of Wikipedia

Obits

2009-02-17T23:29:00.003+08:00

April: “You know he’s the first person who seemed to know what we were talking about.”
Frank: “It’s true isn’t it? Maybe we’re as crazy as he is.”

April: “If being crazy means living life as if it matters, then I don’t mind being completely insane.”

Now here’s a tragedy. In the fight against the norm – the courageous idealist dies in defeat. The one who gives in becomes a zombie. And the one who has actually survived, calls the asylum home, a prisoner in his own dreams.

The Wheelers announce over tea: We’ve decided to live in Paris. We’re leaving in the fall. Frank will take some time off to think about what he really wants, while April gets a high-paying secretarial job to support the family and we’ll live happily ever after. Middle-class eyebrows raise in mockery. And/or pity.

In this fight against conformity, when many lives are at stake, what is the real key to victory and survival? With circumstances that the Wheelers had, could it have been a happy medium? He takes the promotion, she bears their third child – they stay put for a year or two and save up until they can afford to take a year-long hiatus in most-coveted Paris. Have fun and then take it from there. A self-help book might have given that advice. But that, too, assumes the unrealistic happy ever after (and that is, if they stayed married – otherwise, their marriage would have been the casualty).

Who knows? Maybe winning and surviving is in the way one sees and believes it. I’m just thinking too much. Out loud.

It’s just that at this point in my life that I have gone a little bit “crazy” myself, all I can say about this movie is, ouch!

* Image courtesy of Wikipedia.

Vegan Buffet at Ananda Marga

2009-02-17T18:42:00.003+08:00

Try a spread of sentient vegetarian dishes from the Ananda Marga Yoga Center.

Plus, cultural show, live music, yoga demo, and a wellness presentation.

Ananda Marga Yoga Center is at
#46 Maamo St.,
Sikatuna Village, Quezon City

Contact Ananda Marga (+6329246068 or +639284421373) for details.
Tickets are at P300/pax.

Click here for location map and directions.

When Songs Change Their Meanings, Pt. 2

2009-02-08T23:38:00.017+08:00

Time can make you feel real stupid about yourself sometimes.

Around the same time last year, a surprise encounter with Sleeps With Butterflies on the radio “pierced the very core of me again like knives”, as I wrote. Pierced, even if I was over that episode which I call The Dark Ages, then 3 years old. And back then, while it was old enough for me to say I am over it, it was not quite old enough for me to be really over that kind of mentality. I realize that now, because when I wrote what I wrote then – that episode still owned the song very much. Or that person.

This year makes it 4 years ago. Yesterday, I was driving my brother’s car and I knew he had my Tori Amos Beekeeper album in his stereo. Thought it would be nice to sing it again for once so I fast forwarded to my ever-favorite track. Suddenly, it felt different, meant different.

“This girl only sleeps with butterflies.” For years this line never really had a clear meaning to me. The rest of the song did, and for me, it meant “I love you but I won’t hold you back, I’ll wait, I sleep with butterflies – a beautiful dream that’s always fleeting…

"... so go on and fly.”

Until now. As I drove yesterday, about 4 years since that first time I played that CD in my car, I asked myself, what was I thinking? This song isn’t about a pathetic girl who lets go with longing. This is about a strong, hardy soul who will take nothing less than what she deserves. And thus, not a caterpillar. She deserves the imago, who’s done with the isolation of the cocoon, ready for flight. To take and give. To rush and dive in like her.

Only butterflies. Or, no thanks.

And so the song has taken on another persona.

Or maybe I have. For I own this song now, yay me.

I Found A Winner!

2009-02-07T16:18:00.006+08:00

Late last year my suking hairstylist transferred to another salon. His old affiliation already wasn’t the cheap kind but since it’s always been a satisfying experience, I didn’t mind shelling a few more hundred bucks than I would like to. His new salon, however, charged over 40% higher, ulk! Beauty knows no pain, so goes the saying, but the pangs need not always come from the pocket!

So I guess it’s time to find an new place - I like to alternate stylists, anyway. In my personal experience, no matter how good the stylist is – a downward trend in creativity and adventurousness in what they do to my hair is inevitable after a while. It’s healthy to have one person change the other person’s work from time to time.

Today, I decided to check out the stylist my yoga classmate recommended, not far from where we go to class. The interiors weren’t bad, there was the perfunctory shampoo and massage. They seemed to use the same products as the higher end salons (though I was only there for a trim). All in all, it was really no different from what I was used to from my old suki.

Dozens of reading material at the waiting area… check. The magazines are actually not in the lounge. I had to ask to find out where they were. Interestingly, what were in the lounge were inspirational and self-help books, but mostly on marriage and parenting (hence, the asking for the magazines). Later, though, I spotted a copy of Robert Greene’s The Art of Seduction on the shelf.
Choice of cold drink… check.
Polite and non-talkative staff… check.
No diva attitude… check.
Looking at every millimeter of hair (which was what a blog said about my old stylist that made me go over and try him out)… check.
Giving me the haircut I wanted (in this case, I brought a picture but were some minor modifications involved) … check.
Knowing my hair-type’s limitations in terms of how similar it would look to the picture… check.
Perfect wash-and-wear haircut that potentially would still look good as it grows out… check.
Hairdryer that’s not too hot... check.
No blatant cross-selling of other services… check.

All of the above for a fee of P185! So it’s just as the Surf detergent's Lumen campaign of old… says, “singganda ngunit di singmahal”! And for this, I’d like to do them a bit of service through this free PR.

Metro Salon is located at the corner of V. Luna St. and Kalayaan Avenue in Quezon City. The stylist’s name is Jerzon.

Related Post:
Now This Is What You Call "Service" - Pizza Hut, Makati Cinema Square!

The Amazing Bulul: A Story of Epiphany

2009-02-04T21:29:00.006+08:00

This fictional piece was inspired by a true story - or rather, a private joke among friends from my former workplace. There was an Ifugao-made stool that I brought to my office (that looked like a close relative of the bulul, the Ifugao rice guardian), that by chance, seemed to foreshadow certain career "moves" (or that which we call "discernment") of the people around it, including my own. I've long left the company but my "bulul" stool is still in the care of the friends I've left behind, hoping its "spell" would rub in on them, too.

There was once a young bulul who left its mountain home in search of a different road to take, much to the chagrin of its parents. While thinking of its fate, it lay on its stomach, elbows and knees on the ground, cupping its chin with its hands and pointing its feet to the sky. Traders who passed by saw the bulul and thought it made for a good piece of furniture so they took it to the city.

Years later, its parents got a letter in the mail. Fearing the worst but still hoping for good tidings, they read:

Dear Mom and Dad,

I'm writing from a faraway city and telling you first of all, not to worry. I'm doing great, and better yet, happy, for I think I've found my true calling.

Since I left our village, I was brought here and was sold as furniture. It was nice, for being sat on was also a noble thing to be. But still, it didn't feel quite right, for people had many chairs already, and I was too low to even be comfortable. I was then brought to a rather grey place. And it was there that I knew I will be put to good use. It seemed that whoever came near me had an epiphany of sorts and knew where they wanted to go. They have now left the grey place.

Word of my powers spread like wildfire and soon, other people started asking for me. I helped these people, too. Now, the rest of them are fighting over where I should stay so that they, too, could find "luck". There is also talk that I am moving to a different grey place altogether because another person needs me there. Watch out, I may just become world-renowned before you know it!

And while it is often joked about that I can also work a spell to get rid of certain undesirables (i.e., people), it is an unspoken understanding that my magic only works for those who want it. Besides, it's not that I'm making people leave, I just give them a little nudge to decide to move on and pursue their dreams, is all. Just like I did myself!

So, please don't be sad that I haven't followed in your footsteps. I'm very proud of you and your noble duty but this is what I am meant to do.

I'll always be grateful for your support.

With love,
B

PBA099n1878n

Right Turn (At Last)

2009-02-04T14:10:00.007+08:00

Photos from our family R&R at the Villa Escudero plantation-cum-resort last Sunday. This was a first for everyone, after decades and what probably were a thousand trips passing by its gate to and from our hometown. I was voting for another nearby destination for that weekend but lost to the majority.

The place didn't disappoint, though. The most unexpected bit was the museum. I don't know why every source of info about it understated the impressiveness of the collection, including the resort's very own website. Housed inside an old Spanish church (see pink church in the slideshow), its facade belies the very eclectic interiors. The first floor mostly features Catholic artifacts - huge carrozas, antique crucifixes and santos, while the side- and upstairs corridors show an array of taxidermy, archeological what-nots, costumes, curios of minature collections and historical memorabilia from all over the world. The collection of WWII memorabilia at the nearby grounds was like a teaser for Corregidor. The museum is off-limits to picture-taking, which I'm not sure is helpful to the resort, marketing-wise. In any case, it would take professional photographers to do justice to the displays, given poor lighting in some areas.

Another pleasant surprise was the cultural show. With over an hour-long showcase of Philippine dances, it was certainly not run-of-the-mill. They even have a live real gong ensemble for the moslem dances.

The buffet spread left much to be desired, however, save for the (tapioca with coconut milk and syrup) dessert. But then it was all about the experience of dining by the man-made waterfall (getting feet wet part of the package). Of course, no visit to Villa Escudero is ever complete without the photo ops by the waterfall.

Chi's Sweet Song

2009-01-30T12:58:00.019+08:00

The Japanese, no doubt, know their cats. Right now, I got myself hooked on Chi's Sweet Home*, a series of anime shorts, about Chi, a kitten who got separated from her family and eventually is adopted by a young human family.

Props to my friend Hethler for sending me the first five episodes! I fell in love with it instantly, even without English subtitles. It's funny and touching and gives great insight on the workings of the little feline's mind. And its clueless humans.

The episodes remind me, of course, of my days raising little Figaro. Chi's forays with the litterbox, her first bath and encounter with the blowdrier, her nightmares, the longing for "home" and her bonding with the child Youhei (with whom she shares toilet-training milestones) - all hit home. The "we-can't-keep-a-cat" conflict in the series, is all too familiar, it being the very plot of the cat-centric short story I wrote in a creative writing class in college (finding the hard copy of which has been in my mental to-do list for years now).

I'm only on the 13th episode and very much intend to follow Chi's journey home in all 104 (hopefully with subtitles). Must see for all kids at heart and cat lovers.

Meanwhile, here's the equally adorable themesong, Ouchi Ga Ichiban (English trans. Home is the Best) by Satomi Koorogi.

"I'm happy
Full of milk pleases me
Being rubbed after playing makes me happy
It's time to eat
And I'm full with yummy stuff
And lie down feeling happy
Flop... Sleepy..."
(Full English lyrics in this webpage.)

_____________
* View first episode here and be hooked!
Photo courtesy of http://www.akiba-station.com/blog/

Something To Sing About

2009-01-24T11:36:00.010+08:00

With some time on my hands, I’ve been doing Buffy-thons lately. It’s a continuous marathon of sorts - and I’m already on my nth round of the 7 seasons of the show ever since I did my first 6 years ago. Let’s just say it’s a favorite time killer.

Funny thing was that within the same week that I saw the musical episode of Season 6, I got to reading an email digest from the Pinoyslayer egroup (which I haven’t been reading in a long while) to chance upon a message that this is already available at a local bookstore:

Image courtesy of amazon.com

The only thing that kept me from ordering the soundtrack from Amazon before was that it wasn’t eligible for the free shipping to the US promo which meant it will come out as ridiculously expensive. But for 6 plus years, I’ve been playing and singing along to this from a “burned” copy a fellow Buffy geek gave me. Definitely on the Top 5 of my most played music ever.

I got the last copy yesterday.

“Say you’re happy now –
Once more with feeling.”

First Adventure of the Year

2009-01-20T19:36:00.007+08:00

Some photos from our Saturday trek up Mt. Pinatubo.

We chose to go via the "shortcut" (aka the "skyway") - supposedly an hour's ride (via a 4x4) plus an hour's trek up the crater. Most online discussion forums that I read described this as "considerably easy" or "fairly unnoticeable", especially for someone who can pull off a minimum of 2 rounds at the UP Acad Oval without limping (which I can). Well, "easy" is a relative term. Those guys in the forums are probably mountaineers or something. Or just guys, I guess.

Definitely, my skills in non-stop 8-hour-or-more shopping trips in no way equate to a fraction-long of rocky, steep and wet terrains. I can't believe I was actually considering the 2-3 hour long trek! But it was all fun, we made it and the pain I had in my thighs until yesterday was the good kind of pain, really. ;)

Note: Some photos were taken by my trek companions.

Nothing's Perfect

2009-01-20T17:12:00.004+08:00

That Shellane Delivery Center hotline was rather impressive. I was put on hold, but every five seconds, a recorded message would tell me how far along the queue I am and how long I still should wait. Then it would say, “Your call is now next in line and will be answered by the representative shortly,” before my call would finally be picked up. I wish other call centers would follow that example.

Now if only they delivered my LPG on the day they said they would, that would have actually been nice.

i just have to ask this one out loud...

2009-01-15T08:13:00.002+08:00

... but please don't spoil me.

I've put off watching Lost Season 4 since I didn't have time to get addicted until now - after more than a year since I've seen Season 3. I'm not expecting any of my questions to be answered just yet. On the contrary, all this series seems to unravel each time are more and more questions. And now, midway into the season, I know I just have to be patient as each one pops into my head. But this one just flips me out -

Why did Jin's tombstone in the future say he died on 22 September, 2004 - the day Oceanic 815 crashed?

(photo from the Lostpedia forum.)

Oh, don't answer, please. ;)

scenes from the holidays

2009-01-06T22:51:00.009+08:00

looking back at the 2008 holidays - one of many firsts.
but then 2008 was a year of many firsts to begin with!
more on that later.

photos from:
gawad kalinga-sagip kids' party. UP centennial lantern parade.
(former) company street party. noche buena. new year's eve. home.

The Cat and the Fiddle

2009-01-06T17:07:00.006+08:00

My violin saw the light of day after over 5 years in its case and on the top shelf of my closet. Never got to take lessons as planned. When before it was Sharon Corr (and that famous Runaway intro), this time, my 7-year old cousin got me interested in the instrument again.

Could be fun learning something new. Otherwise, it always makes for a nice photoset. ;)

a public service announcement from figaro

2008-12-27T00:00:00.011+08:00

I am helping spread this message around - some of you may know of kids (or adults) who want a new animal friend for Christmas or the New Year. The cats' owner has a Philippine mobile but it doesn't say where the kittens can be picked up, so do call them. I do hope he/she considers bringing the kittens to the shelter as a last resort - which is closer to a good home than the streets. I wish my human could take them but she says her lifestyle only permits her to take care of one cat. That of course, is me.

"My partner and I foster kittens, and we usually do a good job of it. I have a batch of four kittens now. Unfortunately, I contracted an illness that has left me weak for weeks. I'm still not well, and my partner does not do chores or cat care very well. The doctor also says I should get rid of my cats, but I can't bear to part with them just yet. Yes, this happens to me a lot, but I just can't stand to see kittens so young nobody wants to take care of them. My four now-roughly-two month old foster kittens urgently need a new home. They're healthy, eating solid food and kitten milk replacement formula, and are playful and happy. I really don't want to put them into a shelter when they've known a good home for most of their lives.

Please help save the kittens from a shelter and give them a home for the new year. For pics, please visit http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v474/FireChild/kittens_foster2008/. You can contact either of us if you should want to take them. Paki-kalat naman please ang email na ito. I need to get rid of them within the week, and if I don't do it, my family will. Contact:

Fire - fire.sia@gmail.com
Mym - 0917 8166762 dark.beloved@gmail.com"

If you can at least help pass this on, the owners would appreciate it and so would I. Thanks and holiday cheer to all cat- and humankind!

Figaro: "My eternal Christmas wish is for every stray kitten in
this world to find a cozy and loving home like I have."

Gurrreeeetings!

2008-12-24T02:56:00.003+08:00

For you - whom I wasn't able to greet last week, who might not get my text tomorrow, and whom I've already hugged and kissed or texted or emailed but I'd still like to wish over and over again...

Postscript: In the background as I was doing this, RJ UR 105.9 was playing Pinoy Rock & Roll and local jazz arrangements Christmas songs. I'm impressed at the repertoire, they've been playing this set for the past couple of hours at least.

and yet another cat book

2008-12-23T00:42:00.015+08:00

Don't you just hate it when for every other Christmas gift you buy, you see something so perfect for yourself? Just when I thought I was done doing that and am safe from doing so while shopping for that last remaining present at the children's section - I find this.

My Nine Lives by Clio
by Marjorie Priceman (synopsis and reviews here.)

What a treasure for a steal!

Excellent rare addition to the cat lover's book collection;
Beautiful illustrations;
Thick, glossy pages;
Neat concept - the book is supposedly a cat's account of its nine lives, dating back to 3000 B.C. and placing it in important events in history. My favorite "life" that I really cracked up over was how the cat was the major mover in the birth of jazz music in New Orleans (makes perfect sense actually!);
As a children's book, it does not only teach a bit of world history, but also tidbits on time-telling, the alphabet, art, music, even astronomy. The entire book was in the cat's point of view but an appendix explains the historical facts behind the cat's "entries". It even has a disclaimer on some logical inconsistencies (used on purpose in the name of poetic license);
Adults can very well learn a thing or two on some historical trivia.

Here's a sample of what's inside. Obviously, this book won me over with a Figaro lookalike in it (see bottom right). So as far as Christmas shopping goes , I've decided that the best recipient of this book... is me. I bought my niece something else. ;)

Rating: ****

waiting for the phone to ring

2008-12-12T00:47:00.016+08:00

While people these days would buy the latest iPhone or whatever new thingamajig available, I get a kick out of... this retro Model 2500 telephone.

Been meaning to get one of these from my suking communications equipment warehouse (where I used to get these US-made cordless phones for a bargain) so when my former boss wanted to have coffee near that place today, I grabbed the chance to drop by. I was actually on the lookout for a more avante-garde shaped and mod-colored phone (my uncle got a non-working unit similar to this Ericofon from this store before), but there was none. It saddened me a little that the place now carries less items on display since the last time I went there. I thought I was leaving emptyhanded until I saw this one on the almost hidden back shelf.

And yes, it works, folks! I read that in the olden days, telephone companies were responsible for the handset maintenance that's why they designed these old models to be practically maintenance-free. The lady at the shop told me they also carry the rotary version, but those can't make outgoing calls, pity. (Though if the price is right, I might just go back there to get it anyways, who knows what price it would fetch in the future right).

I like the sturdy base that doesn't get pulled with the handset when I pick up the phone from bed - and my little niece won't be able to easily throw it around either. And that classic ringtone! I tested it a few times just to hear it ring and Figaro freaked out hahaha. He even spat and almost scratched me when I put him near the phone. He always liked to hang out on my nightstand so hours later, he began to inch his way beside it, when he decided the phone was safe. Not! The prankster that his owner was let the phone ring, making him jump out of his skin and as far away from the phone as possible.

So I asked my friends to call me here instead should they feel the itch to text. Literally, I'd like to hear this phone ring. In the keeping with having this vintage phone, wouldn't it be also nice to have one of those old-fashioned telebabad toll-free conversations for a change? ;)

***

Speaking of vintage, we discovered this new store called Vint at the A. Venue Mall along Makati Ave. (near Kalayaan Ave.). Great stuff ranging from antique suitcases, electric fans, TVs, radios, clocks, telephones, bicycles and books. It has a more museum-like feel that say, Vintage Pop or Evangelista and the prices are far less accessible but everything's here and properly displayed - it's worth visiting for the experience.

notes from the other side

2008-12-04T23:37:00.004+08:00

One of my blog entries posted on Multiply has been the butt of spam comments lately. To date, six different bogus users posted the same comment - if you could call it a comment - because it's almost twice as long as most of my blog entries.

I've deleted the comments but there are still traces of them shown as "comment deleted at the request of the thread owner." And who wouldn't delete them - not only were they long and totally irrelevant, but they're actually - ads for an erectile dysfunction drug! Talk about unsightly, eh? Errrrrr, that Pablo Banila phenomenon that plagued Multiply and other sites was much more creative and amusing. Apparently, these spammers haven't heard of target market definition just yet.

I've already reported these incidents to Multiply and attempted to block the users. But since these are different user accounts, I don't think I will see the end of it whatever I do. I guess I just have to go on deleting every time it appears and thank high heavens that they only target that particular entry, one that's not so important to me (knock on wood).

I've also posted on the user support group a suggestion on comment moderation, or at least word verification to prevent spam comments like these. Was a bit irked by some of the counter-suggestions of setting blog posts as private or disabling comments if I don't want these things to happen. I know all about private posts, all of my pictures are limited to people I personally know. Comment moderation, some say, defeats the purpose of having an open discussion. Okay, point taken. I enabled comments because comments from anybody are indeed welcome. Still, no matter how public the posts are, they should still be entitled to protection from totally irrelevant ones by letting the site owner screen the comments before they get published. It's being done by the other blogsites such as this anyway, so I hope Multiply can follow suit.

thresholds

2008-11-25T13:05:00.014+08:00

A lot of the pictures from my recent trip are, if not of people, of doors and windows. I was just charmed by the shutters and bay windows characteristic of French colonial architecture found all over Vietnam and Cambodia, be it of new and decrepit structures, from the grandiose to the minimalist. Not to mention the endless array of gates and passageways in the intricately designed ancient Khmer temples.

Incidentally, I remember what this whole trip is all about - crossing thresholds. Change. New paths. This set serves as my reminder, I guess, that in my adventures, I may run into doors that are locked, or open to things I don't particularly like. Or into doorways to other paths, or windows affording me interesting views, or some making me see how blessed I am. There may not be one particular place that I can decide to shut myself in, but one thing's for sure, there are plenty of doors to walk through, explore and enjoy.

PBA09r35n0r2

Ar kun. Cám ơn. Merci. Salamat. Thank you.

2008-11-22T19:36:00.012+08:00

wandering in a city at 3 in the morning.
in and out of cities.
a roadtrip a day.
unexpected treks.
lost in translation.
wild roads.
barefoot on dirt.

cold showers.
good food.
catnaps.
ancient civilizations.
painful histories.
newfound peace.
crafts.
basking in the sunrise
with people of the world.
kindness.
lovely interiors.
bargains.
hippie earrings.
creature comforts.
reunion with an old friend.
making new good ones.
inspirations.
joy.
waiting for the dawn.
a new beginning.

figaro: tartan series

2008-11-11T23:19:00.001+08:00

cats hate voyeurs.

bookmark at week #5

2008-11-10T23:30:00.011+08:00

I started to read The Artist's Way book that I borrowed from a friend months ago, not knowing it was a workshop book and that I would actually be willing to be as involved as the author wanted a reader to be. I did know then that I couldn't commit to it right away but I read on and did some of the tasks nevertheless. I even joined the support group blog and found myself occasionally interacting with like-minded souls from the other side of the world. (Thanks, Lilly, Sara and SisterJulia for your comments!)

While still in limbo nowadays, in between life stages, so to speak, I take note of the TAW blog updates from my blog roll from time to time while I continue to read at my own pace (alternately with all of my backlog readings). It occurred to me that I'm nearly on the same page as the group - a week behind, to be exact. My bookmark's on Week 5 and everybody else is about to just wrap up this module this week.

A bookmark, of course, doesn't say much. My morning pages mileage is laughable at 5 days (most of which from the past week) and I've skipped on some of the exercises. But as they say around here, "Huli man daw at magaling, makakahabol din."* I hope it's not considered cheating to cram the rest of the exercises in a couple of hours, and do the reading deprivation and a week's worth of artist's dates in my upcoming trip this Saturday. Chalk that up with my pretty good artist date track record, I hope it means I can legitimately catch up with you guys soon!

By the way, when I get back, I also think it's time I get my own copy of the book. ;)

Related Posts:
Short Bursts
Stocking Up For The Fourth Age
Week-long Artist's Date Coming Up

___________
* in short, "Better late than never".

while i wait

2008-11-10T16:34:00.014+08:00

Quite excited about my impending Amazon delivery that also has my Sesame Street Old School DVDs! While i wait, I've looked up this video of one of my favorite SS featurettes, in case it's not on the DVDs (they only have select content from the 1969-1979 episodes). As a young child, I recall being terribly affected by this, and sympathizing with the frustratedly hungry baby. It seemed to me then that the baby had to wait a really long while - i.e., from the time the farmer squeezed it from the cow to when the milk got to their doorstep, and finally making it to his bottle.

As an adult, I'm rediscovering that the film has some kick-ass piano music (somewhere around 2:00). Tori Amos should do a cover of this (with a harpsichord and strings intro) and maybe replace "milk" with something else that is now a staple for kids who used to watch these Sesame Street episodes.

Postscript: There was only one upload for this video on youtube so I was surprised to find real info about this film (the music, at least) elsewhere. Read this.

Sesame Street: Milk

not bad...

2008-11-08T00:16:00.002+08:00

85% Artiste! though i would've scored better if it weren't for the photography items.

My result for The Famous (and Not So Famous) Art Quiz...

Art Lover

Art Lover: You scored 85% Artiste. You may not have any formal training, but you are a big fan of art, at least what you've been able to see in your local museum. Try broadening your horizons a little and exploring some lesser known artists.

Take The Famous (and Not So Famous) Art Quiz at HelloQuizzy

snippets from dream diary #81: tattooed conehead, the batya and 2 cobras

2008-11-06T21:51:00.002+08:00

Was in a hurry following my co-workers to an awards ceremony. While finding my seat, I imagined the fun camera angles we would pose in - as if we were at the Oscars. But yikes, in my hurry, I realize I wasn't even dressed yet! Haven't taken a bath either. So I went to the back of the auditorium to heat some water. No kettles but I found a batya* and a stove. This'll do.

While waiting for my hot water, I scanned the room for an old friend whom I was meeting there. Saw her from afar - she looked really pretty, so did her dress, but I was shocked to bits to see her head shaven and with a prosthetic conehead on top (except it was more of cylindrical than cone-shaped)... that had tattoos on it, and I mean, all over it. Wow, I never thought of her as the trendsetter type. I went over, tried to hide my curiosity and complimented her tattoo. It looked like graffiti that used fat, hollow letters rendered like ballpoint pen ink, with casual shading of neon colors, like something done with a different shades of stabilo highlighter. Aside from that, there were also some faint traces of what was made to look like pencil marks that were intentionally not erased. I loved it, really and I guess so did she because she held her conehead high (literally) and confidently.

Went back to my batya. It was gone. The cooks used it for the spaghetti they were preparing for the event. It was theirs to begin with, actually, so I begged them to lend it to me. After a long and confusing discussion, they gave in. I don't know why I was so stubborn when I could have saved myself a lot of time and trouble to just take a shower without hot water.

Finally done with my bath, I started dressing up when a couple of cobras slithered into my dressing room, towards me. I screamed for help and a guy in a green t-shirt came. I don't know who he is - he looked rather chubby and sweaty, had curly hair, looked a bit like Seth Rogen. He made the snakes go away then left.

____________
* metal basin used for laundry

Help, My Computer Clock Won't Update When Turned Off!

2008-11-06T06:09:00.005+08:00

calling all techies -

i just noticed recently that my computer clock is always wrong everytime i restart it. at first i thought it was due to the wrong time zone selected but today i realized that the clock only picks up from the time i shut it down. the clock apparently stops to work when the computer is off.

what to do?

oh, it's a month-old acer aspire 4530 and i've already disabled the "synchronize with the internet" option because i'm not always connected to the internet anyways. and if i manually synchronize it, it doesn't work either. i didn't have this problem until just this weekend, by the way.

thanks in advance!

ps - i'm suspecting this might have to do with my recent practice of removing my battery when i'm connecting my pc to a power source. (i've read up that it's a way of prolonging one's battery life, but there was nothing said about it messing up with the clock.) i'm googling this topic and i'm seeing terms like BIOS, CMOS, system battery... huh? watdat?

week-long artist date coming up

2008-11-05T13:37:00.005+08:00

After much deliberation, I've decided to join some friends to see some parts of the French Indochine next week. More than anything else, this is not just about traveling, but something to kick off the bigger thing that it represents - the time I've set aside for expanding my horizons.

The agenda: artist's dates galore, reading (and internet) deprivation, inaugurating The Fourth Age, with a little bit of Christmas shopping thrown in. I'm slowly easing myself into the whole TAW routine again - this makes up for the long interruption.

Related Post: Short Bursts

virtual music trip

2008-11-04T11:30:00.020+08:00

I'm not one to mind a bit of pricking and prodding and even 30-40 minute medical tests, I can make productive use of. Having said that, MRIs have been routine for me for the past 3 years now (nothing serious, folks). This year, though, I went to a different hospital (nearer to where I live this time) and while I appreciated their extra-thoroughness on the safety aspect, their different protocols were a bit disorienting.

First, my 10-minute tardiness made them bump me off to the next hour. Okay, fair enough. Second, they put in my IV needle at the start when I was used to it only coming in halfway through - when the contrast dye is about to be injected. Third, I never minded the noises before - the beating and pounding rhythms actually lulled me to sleep instantly. But this time, the noises seemed louder and of a different kind. So, that and the fact that the needle on my hand felt like it was being pulled off by the magnet forced me to become more creative in distracting myself.

In one old House M.D. episode, House took LSD for his migraine and began to "see music" in psychedelic patterns. In my case, I just "heard" music in the noise, in a fill-in-the-blanks sort of way. Here's my rather eclectic track list:

1. Intro 1: a very busy carpentry shop with high-powered saws and planes

2. Intro 2: the sound of roadworks

3. pounding bass in the background reminiscent of club music (I had fun with this, imagining myself dancing instead of being strapped on a narrow tube)

4. a different kind of bass sound to the tune of Queen/David Bowie's Under Pressure, transitioning into the intro for...

5. Smashing Pumpkin's 1979 (by this time, I'm fighting off the urge to headbang and sing, which is totally not allowed. I was drumming my fingers, though - helped keeping my needled hand from being too numbed), to...

6. an orchestral Mission Impossible Theme with a techno touch, to...

7. Michael Jackson's Thriller

8. wood planes and concrete drills (a reprise).

When I was done, one of the nurses asked me how I was - was I comfortable, did I fall asleep? I just nodded, with a groggy smile as if to say, "cool machine, it was like being on hallucinogens!"

Morning Surprises

2008-10-30T14:51:00.004+08:00

I couldn't believe my ears when the DJ announced the next few songs he was about to play on the radio. John Lennon, Wally Gonzales, Eula Valdes... *Double take* Eula Valdes in the same sentence as rock idols? It's a Thursday morning, before 7am, so I know my trip would only take 30 minutes, tops. I prayed they would play all of these songs before I reached the office.

While listening to the John Lennon song, I did recall seeing Eula's album cover at one of these CD stands in my office building. Since it was alongside a slew of records of TV/movie celebs taking a stab at their own renditions of ballads, bossa nova, torch or dance songs (some not at all pleasant), I assumed Eula's (being a TV actress herself) was of the same ilk.

Finally, the song comes on. Eula sings the blues in a song called... Blue. Wow. Now I'm curious as to what the whole album is like. There aren't any proper reviews online (only a couple of what seems to be marketing gimmicks), all I've read is that all the songs are original compositions. Whether the material is an ode to the blues or a mix of genres (it is called Schizo, anyway), I liked what I heard today. Kudos!

On other news, I also heard that The Dawn's new album is coming out soon and will have a jazz touch, something foreshadowed by their February Greenbelt gigs. Yay!

every night i wait

2008-10-22T20:15:00.020+08:00

"Every night I wait,
take me away to your floating city
by my window at night
I see the lights to your floating city."
- Floating City, Tori Amos

... for Comic Book Tattoo. I just placed an order!

Tori Amos' words have always mystified me as much as her music. There is something about crypticness that I take comfort in - for me, it makes a piece of art more embraceable by different kinds of people, in whatever way it touches them. I have borrowed Tori's words on many an occasion myself - more publicly, for this blog's section titles. Now several graphic novel writers and artists collaborate for their own take of Tori's work in the form of 50 short stories, with Tori's friend and graphic novel god Neil Gaiman writing the foreword. This I just have to see.

Looking at the selection of songs makes me quite giddy. I'd love to see how Toast, Gold Dust, Silent All These Years, Winter, Pretty Good Year, and other songs very close to my heart are translated into prose and drawings. I wonder how these would differ from the interpretations in the music videos. Or my own. And the likes of aurally stimulating Mr. Zebra, Father Lucifer, The Waitress and Cornflake Girl, which I didn't even attribute any meanings to, as well as songs I am not familiar with, I'm likewise going to see in a whole new light.

My book arrives with a couple of other CDs and DVDs which have been on my Amazon Wishlist for years now. Make this (one of) the last batch of splurges to kick off/to stock up for The Fourth Age. Yay!

Related post: Stocking Up for the Fourth Age

leave the wood outside

2008-10-22T12:03:00.017+08:00

"someone's knocking on my kitchen door
leave the wood outside, what
all the girls here are freezing cold
leave me with your borneo
i don't need much to keep me warm
don't stop now what you're doing
what you're doing my ugly one."
- Cloud on My Tongue, Tori Amos

Being an avid fan of recycled/junk art, this West Gallery exhibit of Ling Quisumbing's instantly fascinated me. Her collection of wood and junk metal pieces made into quirky toy blocks and robotlike figures reminded me of how I used to keep those leftover plyboard planks from our cabinetry work from 2005. I have been meaning to make some creative use of those but admittedly, it took me too long to transform them from the eyesore and space-hogging objets (pas de l'art) that they were on our tiny balcony. Hence I reluctantly agreed to my mom's egging me to dispose of them.

The exhibit was early this year (according to the gallery's website, although I thought it was longer ago) but unfortunately the artist name escaped me then. I immediately recognized the pieces from this billboard I saw over at EDSA-Cubao the other day and was finally able to look her up.

More on the Palimpest exhibit on the West Gallery's website.

(Note: All photos are from the same site.)

dream diary #78: re-arrange me

2008-10-21T11:00:00.026+08:00

Last week, my mom was toying with the idea of re-arranging the furniture in the bedroom. I doubted that there would still be enough space to walk on/swing the closet doors open if the bed faced a different direction, so I put off making actual measurements. This morning, I dreamed of this:

Turned out I was wrong, there was plenty of space after all. The problem was, the room was so ugly. While I was delighted that there was a protruding part of the floor which can serve as a headboard-cum-nightstand, it was so filthy, I wouldn't dream of touching it. The headboard that came with the bed, on the other hand, doesn't suit the design of the whole room at all. It was kind of shabby chic, with a carved white distressed wooden frame and a floral cloth surface, which in another context would have looked really nice, but it's just off from the whole scheme of the room. Cabinet doors were removed from their hinges, some of the wood was decaying. I could not believe I let this happen, I had no idea! I was also surprised to note that there was even some space that I could convert into a walk-in closet. But oh, potentials aside, this re-decorating is not going to be a small or easy task.

In the past few years, I've been dreaming a lot about my house being in a state of decay without my realizing it. Never thought of those dreams much, but this time, the message is taking some form and is clearing up.

In many ways, I am that abandoned space reeking of potential. But there is still hope. With some effort and determination, I can make the most of this "room" again and everything will fit in beautifully. The important thing is seeing what needs to be done and doing it now.

In 9 days or so, my second "fourth age" begins - I bet I'll stop having these dreams from then on. To add to that, maybe I will reconsider re-arranging the bedroom furniture.

Sing Me A Love Song, Won't You?

2008-10-19T16:07:00.010+08:00

Forget about reaching for the moon and the stars, I'd rather somebody asked me what I want and sung me a realistic love song for a change. Not any less sweet!

(Wouldn't hurt if that somebody looked like Bret, either.)

Another favorite FOTC song, by Bret (for Coco, with nifty bass lines from Jemaine, the third wheel).

Is that what you're into?
Him and you in the nude?
That's what he's prepared to do
Is that the kind of thing that you think you might be into?

"If You're Into It", from Flight of the Conchords 1x04 ("Yoko")

Excuses, Excuses...

2008-10-19T15:36:00.006+08:00

Eight ways to deny you're crying over a breakup (according to Bret and Jemaine):

It's just been raining on my face.
It's not because of you, it's because I'm thinking about a friend of mine who you don't know who is dying, that's right, dying.
I've just been cutting onions, I'm making a lasagna (for one).
There's just a little bit of dust in my eye (that's from the path that you made when you said your goodbye).
I'm not weeping because you won't be here to hold my hand, for your information there's an inflammation in my tear gland.
I'm not upset because you left me this way, my eyes are just a little sweaty today.
These aren't tears of sadness, they're tears of joy, I'm just laughing, Ha ha ha-ha ha.
If you're trying to break my heart, your plan is flawed from the start. You can't break my heart, it's liquid - it melted when I met you.

I've joined the bandwagon of Flight of the Conchords fanatics. FOTC is a New Zealand-based duo of comic-folk musicians known for their geeky looks, self-deprecating humor and witty-bordering-on-silly songs in eclectic musical arrangements. I just love these guys.

Season 1 of the Flight of the Conchords TV series is on HBO every Sundays at 2:30 pm, with replays on Wednesdays at 10:30 pm. Now on its 7th (out of 12) episode.

This is one of my favorite songs of theirs. Hilarious!

I'm Not Crying, from 1x01 "Sally"

Food Therapy Workshops at Ananda Marga

2008-10-12T12:59:00.004+08:00

Vegetarian cooking demonstration
Food sharing
Food therapy dynamics and
Nutrition and wellness presentations

Part I - 25 October, 2008. 9am-2pm
Part II - 29 November, 2008. 9am-2pm

Ananda Marga Yoga Center, #46 Maamo St.,
Sikatuna Village, Quezon City

For details, contact:
Ofel Santos, Diploma in Homeopathy, wholistic healer, seminar trainer/facilitator, writer/editor
Tel: +63928-3638939 Email: latmeria@yahoo.com

Chef Ajita, vegetarian chef/caterer
Tel: +63910-6088849 / +632-6928109 Email: ajita_chef@yahoo.com

Registration fee: P1,500 per session. Early registrants receive a surprise gift.

Click here for location map and directions.

Tickling My Inner Flower Child

2008-09-28T21:46:00.009+08:00

"We are stardust, We are golden

And we've got to get ourselves back to the garden."

- Joni Mitchell, Woodstock

It was far from the straightforward Discovery Channel-type documentary that I imagined. There was none of the typical narrative, offsite interviews of resource persons, or anything post-event.

This film was made at the very heart of the festival, making the 3 or so hours of footage feel indeed like 3 days, as it spanned across all the sub-plots of the event. There were closeup shots of the musical performances down to the foot-tapping, the literally dirty fingers tuning the guitars, and hands wildly beating on the bongo drums. There were casual interviews with the young organizers at work, the bewildered (some annoyed) locals, the toilet cleaner who took great pride in making the portalets "pleasanter" for the kids, and all kinds of hippies, some even offering the film crew smokage.

The film likewise captures the ironies - hundreds of thousands of stoned young people and not one violent incident, a financial disaster becoming a landmark event of the century, a film that nobody else wanted to do that saved a flailing film company, and a sense of unity in the backdrop of social unrest. And for these, it became so much more than the ultimate concert film. The rawness of it all combined with excellent editing gave the audience the surreal experience of what it would have been like to participate in those 3 days of peace, love and rock and roll. And it makes you wonder, as I did - had I lived in America in the late 60s, would I have gone to Woodstock?

Oh, and for an Academy-award winning documentary considered to be "culturally, historically, and aesthetically significant" by the US Library of Congress, with a young Scorsese as part of the editing crew, no less, I got my copy for a bargain at only P50!*

Rating: *****

_________________

* VCD copy on sale at Astrovision. The DVD sells for P199.

Photo credit from http://www.amazon.com/.

Nora the Cat Pianist

2008-09-27T23:42:00.001+08:00

this cat has the makings of a jazz pianist. note the discordant notes, unpredictable pauses and call-and-response technique. i hope to see her in a 4-piece band someday.

the way she stands on the piano seat is so very jamie cullum. ;)

check out the prequel here.

stocking up for the fourth age

2008-09-22T23:00:00.009+08:00

Am not one to troop to National Bookstore cut-price booksales. While I've always told myself over and over again to read more books and watch less TV, I've learned that buying more books does not guarantee achievement of this goal - just a higher pile of backlog reading. Borrowing works better in getting me to finish books, what with the pressure of promptly returning them to their owners.

Prior to this weekend, I already had 3 borrowed books on my nightstand (this number separate from the backlog tower I mentioned) which I'm taking my time finishing. Despite that, I found myself inside the National Cubao Superbranch (being in the area and needing to check out if they had this UP-published title that I've been inquiring from their other branches for 3 months now), failing to resist these titles, two of which were significantly marked down, to boot:

Call it my artist's date for the week. I know I've not really committed to the Artist's Way program just yet, especially the morning pages, but at the very least, I've been having artist's dates long before I learned that the book called it that.

And call it, packing my proverbial fourth age suitcase, along with window-shopping for a notebook computer. The previous week has been all about mapping out my "itinerary", having discovered that it's sooner than I think!

Related post: Short Bursts

a study on fanaticism across decades

2008-09-13T01:46:00.009+08:00

"How much of a fan am I? Let me count the ways..." At some point in your life, you must've been a fan of something or someone and needed to tell the world about it. Following are just some random observations that while the ubiquitous T-shirt has been here for generations, other forms of expression have evolved with humankind and technology.

The 80s to early 90s.

Caveat: Having acquired my own preferences a little bit later in my youth, the following are not at all from personal experience.

Posters
Notebook covers
Photographs
Autographs
Buttons
Magazine clippings
Slambook entries
At the extreme, streamers (as in the That's Entertainment/GMA Supershow and its ilk), and fans (as in paypay), with matching towels to wipe the sweat of their celebrity idols.
Moreso, fan clubs and fan mails.

Late 90s/Turn of the century.
Welcome, the digital age. Now this, I can better relate to.

Computer desktop wallpapers. I've had a Lost wallpaper at some point.
Cellphone wallpapers and ringtones. Buffy ringtone, definitely. Up to now, my cellphone profiles are still named after Buffy episodes: "Restless" for vibrate mode, "Earshot" for loud mode, "Hush" for silent mode.
Screensavers. I used to have this screensaver that looks like the computer screen where the Losties needed to enter the mysterious numbers 4, 8, 15, 16, 23 in order to keep the hatch from imploding. And yes, I have to input the numbers to access my screen, too! (Prior to this, I had a post-it on my desk where these numbers are written down.) Way back, I also installed the Titanic and The Talented Mr. Ripley screensaver.
Companion books. The Watcher's Guide 1 & 2 (aka, Buffy companion books), The Quotable Slayer.

Today.
No fan is an island. These days, it's all about interactivity.

Online nicknames and avatars. My online pseudonym is a bit private to some people I know personally, but if they knew me really well, it won't be too hard to crack.
Blog posts. You'll know whom people are a fan of, just check their blogs, reviews, video posts or a links to a website. (My blog section titles are based on Tori Amos song lyrics.)
Forums and mailing lists. Threads and mailing lists are the new fan clubs. Some do EBs/listers' nights. Some meet up to exchange or lend CDs. Some may even have officers (I've mentioned this in another post, I was elected Vice President once).
Profiles in networking sites, what-have-yous. You are who you "favorite".
Camera phone pictures with ze stars themselves. If you have access to my very thin hall of fame album, you'll know I'm really not one to pose with just anybody.
"Friending"... a long long way since the punas-pawis era. We are now close to those we admire through sharing virtual space. The guestbook is the new fanmail.

Anything familiar to you?

would i still love you?

2008-09-09T12:15:00.006+08:00

... if you looked like this? This was what my friend asked me when she YM'd me the link to this picture.

From usamagazine.com: MATT DAMON. To puff up for his role in the upcoming crime thriller The Informant, the actor, 37, chowed down on In-N-Out burgers, guzzled beer and "basically had a great time," he has said.

For those who do not know it yet, I am a huge Matt Damon fan. Scrap that, Matt Damon is my true love. I've kind of known this when he was still the unknown preppie brat in School Ties, and have confirmed this when Good Will Hunting catapulted him to stardom. From then on I followed his career, forward and back.

I loved him when he played the quirkiest roles like the probably-gay-and-definitely-disturbed Tom in The Talented Mr. Ripley and the enraged fallen angel Loki in Dogma. I rented all the videos even of his most boring flicks, searched high and low for his obscure films and even the films in which he only had cameo roles in. I even endured the Bourne series even if I wasn't crazy about espionage movies. My friends would give me copies of his movies or his coffeetable books (at one time, 2 friends even gave me the same book) for Christmas.

I followed his love life as he dated the token celebrities in his earlier days, marveled at how he kept details of his private life out of the media's radar. I hinged on hope when he replaced his superstar girlfriends with non-celebrity women, thinking that given the right circumstances, it could've been me in the place of ex-girlfriend Odessa (Ben Affleck's PA) or the bartender (now wife), Luciana. He has now settled down, fathers 2 children and 1 stepchild. For my part, while I am no longer the squealy fan of the olden days and even (shamefully) behind on Matt-news that I just hear juicy tidbits such as this from other people, I still show my loyalty by showing up at the theaters for most of his movies like an old friend.

Having said that, I am surprised at my idiocy for if not for the name on top of the page, I wouldn't have recognized him in the picture above. Wow! This is the second time he has drastically changed his weight for a movie. The first was in the '96 movie Courage Under Fire, where he lost 40lb to play the war-traumatized medic Ilario. This was pre-"it" boy status, when he didn't have the luxury of weight-trainers or dieticians at his disposal, so the weight loss took a toll on his health. In less drastic occasions, we've also seen Matt look "ugly" for Ripley, pack on some pounds for Stuck On You, beef up to look rock-hard as Jason Bourne. For Matt, acting was an art worth - not only dropping out of Harvard for, but also - starving for.

I miss the boyish look of his Will Hunting days, and who knows what look he will sport next time or end up having when he finally retires from the limelight. However he looks, though, we got to hand it to him for staying passionate for his craft. And passion is something that always scores 10,000 pogi points for me. Hence, the answer to my friend's question?

That's a resounding yes.

disconcerting crossovers

2008-09-08T20:06:00.011+08:00

"Sila na naman?" (translated, "them again?"), I would often complain when another teleserye or Pinoy romcom opens on TV or the box office. What can we do? This is not Hollywood, there are fewer talents and even fewer ones that hit it off with the audience. Hence, the recycled love teams and sometimes, even an entire cast in the same cookie cutter roles. The problem is that seeing the same package of faces makes one movie/program indistinguishable from the previous ones they appeared in. That's my problem at least. Majority of our still celebrity-centric mass media audience, after all, doesn't seem to mind.

In Hollywood, re-casting of main stars in a new series after their hit series has ended is a bit less common (unless the next series is a spinoff, or if the movie is from a director who likes to collaborate with the same set of actors, like David Lynch or Kevin Smith, in which case the roles are quite varied and the movies, far in between). It took 4 years for Shannen Doherty, for instance, to bag another primetime TV role after she left BH90210. Some leave the TV circuit for the big screen, some never even get another shot at a hit.

The bit players are another story, though. Am a bit surprised that some guest stars and even minor series regulars of a well-known program appear seemingly too soon at another well-known show. I've noticed I've been saying "oh, it's (character) from (old series)!" too often nowadays. Example:

LJ Burrows (Linc's son in Prison Break) appears on Grey's Anatomy's 4th season as Meredith and Derek's second to the last clinical trial patient (and last one to die).
His girlfriend in Grey's, Beth, the only patient who survived MerDer's trial appeared, once again, as a patient in House, MD (Season 3). Her character there also had a significant other who was also sick. (They were the young married couple whom House discovers are actually siblings, seeing as they both had green eyes.)

Caleb Nichol of The O.C. (Seth Cohen's rich grandfather), also played the rich father of Desmond's girlfriend Penny in the Lost flashbacks.

More recently, I just discovered that there's an O.C. invasion of House (Season 4). Olivia Wilde who played Alex in the O.C. (as Seth's girlfriend in between Summer Roberts) is now part of House's new diagnostic team. In the same season, the character who played Lindsey's (Ryan's old girlfriend from Season 2) mother in the O.C. was Foreman's boss at a New York hospital (House).

I won't go into extensive research on whether this is a network-thing, or some other industry-related issue. The thing is, I think I may just be watching too much TV.

chance encounters

2008-09-07T00:02:00.011+08:00

The downside of living in a tiny space apart from, well, living in a tiny space is that you have to exercise some restraint in accessorizing. That is pretty hard when you come across some neat stuff like these, even when you didn't plan to:

Above: Table lamp with ceramic base.

Above: Wooden box (the three "lollipops" are attached to the top of the lid).

Above: Resin container shaped like a "fossil" with seahorse imprint.
All of the above from Kultura at SM Makati.

The box and the fossil would've been great for holding knick knacks, but the box was not cheap and while the fossil was dirt cheap - buying it may unknowingly become a precedent for the knick knack containers becoming the knick knacks themselves. So, no thanks. Practicality took over, yay!

Oh, but the lamp! On the practical side, it has all these issues on cost (twice of what I paid for my living room table lamp) , material (ceramic equals breakable, ergo not child- or catproof), color (I love avocado green but the rest of the table decor calls for a plainer-looking lamp), proportion (too small) - and the fact that we have enough table lamps in the house (Mom says we have too much) - going against it. The only argument the other side of me could say is, but it's so pretty! Yes, I am SelenaKyle, and I am a lamp addict. For this dilemma, I guess I'll just have to employ the "if it's still there when I happen to pass by there again, then it's meant to be"-course of action.

Speaking of impractical, I chanced upon these really interesting metal plant holders at another store. Some people may find them a bit kitschy (with those marble-y eyes and all) but I think with the right arrangement, they can look quite tasteful. If they weren't ridiculously expensive and if I actually had plants, I'd probably even consider getting them. I'd choose them over Hello Kitty anytime, that's for sure.

Below: Georgetown cat & dog planters at True Value, Shangri-la Mall. They're on sale, but still quite pricey.

last 100 days

2008-09-02T10:44:00.004+08:00

still on an eraserheads high after that half-a-concert saturday night. although the song below is really a love song, i can't help but sing it and think about freedom that though within an arm's reach, is still through a small window with bars. soon, dear, soon.

"Kailan mo ako hahagkan
Matagal na akong naghihintay
Nakadungaw sa bintana
Mga dahon lang ang kumakaway
...

Kailan ako lalaya
Sa anino ng pag-iisa
Mga rehas lang ang tanaw
Nanginginig sa seldang maginaw."

- Kailan, Eraserheads

regression analysis

2008-08-30T23:57:00.021+08:00

At the Eraserheads concert earlier this evening, we could've stayed at this breezy spot a little far back that is free from the humidity and the smell of dried sweat - but we wanted to feel the vibe. So even if that didn't allow us to see anything on the stage either, we went deep in the crowd of college kids, with our General Admission tickets, sat on dirt during the "20-minute" intermission, in our T-shirts and jeans and the first pair of shoes we pulled out from under the bed this morning.

Weren't these all too reminiscent of something? Student's discounts? Sitting on any kind of floor surface without so much of a flinch? Unironed clothes? The Cutterpillow launch at the Sunken Garden in 1995? I look up at the lights circling the skies and I think back to those good old days - of belongingness with people who, like you, are experiencing heightened self-awareness, awkward self-expression, dreaming vague dreams which you think will become clearer more than a decade later... when you learn what you want to learn, and when your shortcomings beget consequences that are solely your own. Those were, still, the best of times.

Back to a less romantic state of mind - so as not to pollute my reverie, I tried to ignore the kids using all kinds of cameras to document the event. But I later realize, their cameras were actually good for giving me an unblocked (albeit small-scaled) view of the videowall without trying to tiptoe or crane my neck in vain. During the intermission, my friend and I discussed how the capitalists must be tearing their hair out about the lucrative sponsorship opportunities they missed out on due to the rather unorthodox circumstances in which the concert was promoted. Ah, reality. I have to say, though that the non-commercialized atmosphere made for an even more intense time warp feeling.

Despite this series of unfortunate events, amid all the issues and confusion, and with Ely's recent loss, I appreciate the fact that the band tried their best to pull it off. Never mind that the evening could have been more perfect with Pare Ko, Overdrive, Magasin, Poor Man's Grave, Fill Her, etc., this event was really all about re-awakening the inner child in us. And that, it has been for me.

Thank you, Eraserheads and prayers for Ely's quick recovery. Continuing my nostalgic trip on CD now.

"Minsan ay hindi ko na alam ang nangyayari

Kahit na anong gawin
Lahat ng bagay ay merong hangganan
Dahil ngayon tayo ay nilimot ng kahapon."
- Minsan, Eraserheads

kitty evolution?

2008-08-29T18:34:00.007+08:00

Seems like the felinekind is onto something. First, Yoda, the four-eared cat, and now... a kitty that flies? Well, almost. This cat from China has wings. (Click this for the full article.)

On the one hand, the scientific explanation can simply be a bad case of matted fur, which is more common than we think among the long-haired cat breeds. On the other hand, while actually superficial, this "abnormality" somehow rings of a symbolical suggestion that it is not too farfetched for cats of the future to evolve with intensified hearing, the ability to fly (not just leap) to higher places, and other superfeline powers.

It would be nice to think that like the kitties in the Catwings stories, there will someday be cats who can easily escape the tires and bumpers of speeding motorists. That is, if the human's way of evolving (read, through technology) doesn't beat them to it - with flying cars - by then.

An Elegy for China

2008-08-27T16:18:00.018+08:00

No, this is not an Olympics-related post. A friend updated her blog with an announcement that her godchild, a friend's Persian cat named China, has passed away. As far as I remember, China was just a kitten so I was surprised at this news. Apparently, the poor thing suddenly got sick and the trip to the vet was already too late. I was going to resign that these things happen, but when she added "Hindi kasi niya naasikaso" ("He wasn't able to attend to it"), I couldn't hide my consternation. I thought the pedigreed domestic animals of this country are spared of improper care by their well-educated "owners" who paid good money for them, but I am once again proven wrong.

But funny how life unfolds with a feline at my aid. With all the similar posts I've had lately on this cause, for some reason, it was this thing about China that got me searching for more concrete opportunities to act on this advocacy. There are a couple, right now, actually, and I shall get there in good time. All the more reason I am looking forward to the new chapter I have planned for myself soon.

So thank you, China. And thank God - I am closer to finding my path than I think after all.

I thank you, China, though we never have met,

Your passing foretold there is hope for me yet,

Your life was short, but your death not in vain,

My tale you shall hear when our paths cross again.

Jedi Kitty

2008-08-21T09:49:00.001+08:00

With four ears, I wonder if this cat actually responds to his name. Meet Yoda from Chicago. Go to this news item for more about him.

irony of fate

2008-08-19T13:22:00.002+08:00

In the domestic animal social strata, it is, more often than not, the natives and the askals and pusakals (i.e., stray dogs and cats) of this country that get the short end of the stick when humans have to choose an animal demographic to treat better. This is an entire discourse altogether which I have strong opinions on, so I'll save that for a separate entry. Today, I just want to illustrate that in some scenarios, the opposite could be true:

From the FX on our way to Divisoria yesterday, I spotted a homeless family with the father (or grandfather) just woken up from their makeshift canopied bed on the sidewalk. Beside him lying on the bed were an infant and a dog, sleeping side by side. As the FX moved further, the scene panned to show that there was a second dog sitting upright in an open fruit crate, treating the latter as his own personal space. The dogs looked healthy, for strays, and they looked cozy where they were. It was one of those moments I wished I brought a camera with me.

Meanwhile, I remember another scene I witnessed the other day. It was of a small pet shop along a busy street, selling dogs and cats with cages outside the shop, exposed to heat and pollution. These animals are probably purebred, coming from countries with colder climates, and thus they would possibly be less adaptive to our weather than the native breeds. I asked myself why these shops are even allowed to operate - isn't there a policy that requires shopowners to at least provide adequate shelter for animals that they make money from? Aren't clear lungs and no heatstroke part of ensuring the animal's clean bill of health prior to selling them?

kitty psychoanalysis

2008-08-19T10:29:00.000+08:00

Written sometime last summer.

When some lifestyle changes became inevitable for his human family, Figaro had been forced to become an indoor cat. Having spent half of his life - his formative years, in fact - as an outdoor suburban creature, I'd like to think he has adjusted pretty well.

Three years ago, at the height of his sexual prime, he survived: 3 moves in a span of 3 months, a neutering surgery, learning to use the litter box, staring outside windows, living in a highrise, being home alone during the day most of the time, being in the company of toys, and thereafter, 3-hour trips to and from Lucena about 3 times a year on major holidays. A lot of changes, yes, but as far as I knew, he never really had many friends among his own species in the first place - he always had more affinity with humans than cats - so I perceived all of these to be mainly environmental uprooting rather than of relationships. Anyway since then, he's always had enough quality time in the company of his favorite people.

Figaro, 2005. First high-rise window.

We also make those vacations in the province worthwhile for him by letting him live his former outdoor life for as long as he wants, until it's time to get into the travel cage and drive off to Makati. Who knows, he may have left an old girlfriend brokenhearted and may still want to hang out with her platonically. Or he may want to befriend his former rival toms now that he is no longer a sexual threat to them. He may tell them tales of city living, overlooking building constructions, elevators, the sound of trains, the long drives. But most importantly, we don't want him to miss out on what makes a cat a cat. A wild hunter, stalking its prey, aiming for an impeccable kill. And real prey, too, not just his defenseless polyester friends (or my feet). Even if he lost his, well, balls, he shouldn't feel powerless. He needs his self-esteem all the more. Not to mention some physical exercise.

From Christmas vacation, I left him in the province with Mom until I brought him back in Easter. That was over 3 months. I had hoped his habit of tease-biting humans as part of his play-hunting would abate now that he's had enough of the real thing. But I'm starting to notice it's gotten worse. If before, he would only be happy with one bite at the back of my leg while I brush my teeth, now he won't be satisfied until he practically chews on it. He doesn't even run like mad after to avoid my screaming and retaliation, he'd stay for the challenge of trying to bite my leg while I'm facing him. Before, he would only bite me in my sleep when he desperately needs something, now, he does it for no reason. And more often.

Could it be that the longer he's allowed to enjoy it, the more Figaro missed the outdoors when it was time to go back? Is it just mid-life crisis kicking off? Is it something his drinking buddies suggested he tries for fun? Or is it just him - trademark Figaro behavior he's always displayed since his kitten days - hates to be carried but derives sadistic satisfaction when his humans, by default, play pretend-prey. Though he does a good job holding his bladder when his litter box is inaccessible, we've just never been able to teach him a lesson in restraint this way. In a way, it's charming - the cat that doesn't have to make a show out of being sweet and adorable.

Whatever it is, I just hope it's not a sign of loneliness. 'Cause I would just hate that.

Fabric Monday

2008-08-18T15:54:00.001+08:00

Arrgh, I missed joining Jessica Zafra's cat photo contest. She didn't mention the deadline but when she said winners are to be announced on Wednesday, I thought I would still have time to send my entry tomorrow. Well, it appears there's a winner already. Mmmmm, looks deranged alright, but among the contestants, I would've picked out either Kutie Kat or the Siamese siblings instead.

If I had beaten the deadline, I'd probably have trouble choosing a photo, but likely to send in this recent one:

... with this caption:

This is a cat-show quality but totally uncharacteristic picture of Figaro, looking all regal and superhero-ish as if he had a cape attached to his neck. Normally, he would be captured in a totally uncompromising pose (licking his middle), scowling or looking peaceful (read, sleeping). At 6, he lives up to the mischievous nature of his Disney cartoon namesake, his favorite hobby being biting his human's calf when they have their backs turned, in retaliation for the latter's overpetting (read, wrestling) him. He likes cuddling up against his human's blankets when they're asleep and crawling over them awake - only when they are eating yoghurt, meringue, broas or popcorn.

I've sent this to Jessica nonetheless for whatever it is worth.

The reason I haven't had time to do that was because I'd gone fabric shopping with my mom for Project Slipcover at Divisoria this morning and when we got home, readied the instructions for my uncle (my Dad's cousin) who'll do the sewing.

The fabric stores at the Tabora St. stalls are not lacking in selections when it comes to plain/solid-colored cotton, linen or silken or sheer stuff, but finding printed fabrics fitting your specifications can be quite challenging. I had envisioned a black-and-white retro floral print for the sofa, to be accented with bright-colored pillows, but no luck there with the first part. Instead, after walking through all the pasilios and noting potential finds, I ended up with the opposite of the original plan. The best print available was this thick cotton with minimalist lime green leaves. The gray corduroy and dark blue denim (left) would cover the accent pillows and the black denim, the ottoman (bottom). Mmmmm, yeah, an ensemble I would wear myself.

Here's the rest of the stash, including prints for the smaller furniture in other rooms.

Everything looks good with the permanent black and white fixture, too, hurray for that.

finally, some light

2008-08-16T00:48:00.000+08:00

Almost three years after moving to our own little place, I finally got us a pendant lamp for the dining area. This was after searching high and low for something that's of the right size, has clean lines but nonetheless sculptural in form, that doesn't have exposed wiring, and uses the ordinary low-wattage compact fluorescent. Moreover, I wanted something not too common-looking, that will stand out but will go with the rest of the decor as well, and most importantly, will not burn a hole in my pocket. I was quite picky about this piece because it will be the first thing anybody sees upon opening the main door.

With my growing impatience, I almost installed this Ikea Rimfrost lamp temporarily until I found something perfect. While it's a cute piece, I cannot bear the thought of seeing anything plastic or rubber sticking out of what's supposedly the focal point. So maybe, another round of window (or ceiling) shopping and if I don't find anything, I'll have something custom-made. It happened, though, that my high school friend's lamp designing career (which we talked about 5 years ago, also the last time I saw him before this year) is already up and running.

So, finally, ta-da...

Cocoon, steel and fabric lamp by Doy Lagos
(At the showroom. I'm picking it up tomorrow, yay!)

Consider this a prelude to my long overdue decorating projects.

Click here for more of the artist's works.

short bursts

2008-08-13T15:31:00.001+08:00

A colleague lent me this book called The Artist's Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity by Julia Cameron, which is kind of a workshop book filled with exercises on how to revitalize a person's creativity by overcoming certain "blocks". As I flipped through the pages, I noted one of the very first exercises the author suggests for creative recovery, which she calls, the morning pages. She encourages the reader to write, every morning, three pages of just about anything that comes to mind. Just stream of consciousness writing, no need for structure or grammar check or any literary value whatsoever.

Sounds tedious, but only because cramming in my entire morning routine a mere hour or two before I leave the house is already such a challenge for me. As it is, to maximize my sleep, I am trying to cut down my 2-hour preparation time at home to just an hour by taking my breakfast and facial rituals in transit, that is already difficult to start with. If I plan to incorporate the Ananda Marga morning routine, that'll add up probably half an hour more at home. Doing the morning pages would probably take another half hour. So much for an hour's time of preparation, then. Perhaps I should do a rotation or something.

Because with all the thoughts swimming in my head lately, I know I need this kind of unblocking. I mean, I could write my first morning page right about now. And I think I kind of already have - not in unstructured paragraphs, though, but more of in the form of lists related to all the personal projects I have lined up for the next few weeks/months (and well, until next year). Looking at it left me a bit overwhelmed. There are the miscellaneous anxieties (like not having enough money for all of these, not having enough time to source materials and to focus on the concepts, not finding the perfect materials, etc.), but mostly, it's because I want to get started right away, while I'm having this great idea rush.

Funnily, before I got the book, I was thinking I should really set aside and commit to a regular "idea day". The book suggests the very same thing - an hour or two every week, in fact, which the author calls, an artist date in which to go out and absorb whatever the world has to offer to feed the creative monster. Hopefully with the 2 consecutive long weekends coming up, I'd be able to do just that.

cold chick

2008-08-06T15:04:00.000+08:00

Yet another exploitation of an animal's demise for human entertainment.*

In Jay, this year’s Cinemalaya Best Picture, two chicks are left pecking on the glass plate of the coffin at a wake, as the superstitious among us believes that upon doing so, we telepathically make the killer guilty, perhaps to the point of turning him/herself in. The chicks were bought from the market by the deceased Jay’s aunt – one stained pink, the other yellow green, Jay’s favorite colors.

At one scene while filming the dead Jay’s mother and boyfriend, the other Jay’s (the living one) cameraman, Carlo, accidentally tipped the coffin's lid shut. Cut to a shot of the pink chick - dead, with Jay and Carlo burying it, after a eulogy of sorts in the form of Carlo posing for a picture with his beaked victim. It was suggested in this blog that the death was real – a tragic accident. Unfortunately, I forgot to wait until the end of the end credits again to check if there was any apology about the fate of that poor creature. Or did they intentionally choose the pink chick for the poster as a sort of tribute? (See "dot" on the letter J in the poster below. In which case, if it was posthumous then the chick in the poster was only a double.)

That detail aside, this movie much deserved its accolades and rave reviews. It's out of the mold of the usual heart-tugging fare that I enjoy, but I appreciate the tongue-in-cheek parody about the entertainment-slash-journalism world, sans preachiness or attempts at being critical. The TV show-within-film style was a great device to illustrate the difference between truth and pseudo-truth, as was the clever parallelism from the fact that apart from the TV show footages, the main characters of the “documentary” (Nanay Luz and the rest of the family, Edward, the co-teachers) were never shot close-up. Flawless acting. You’d think at first that there's a lot of cliché crying/mourning going on, but at the end of the movie, it all ties up together. Kudos to Francis Pasion and team and to Baron Geisler who bagged the Best Actor award.

I hope, though they gave the pink chick a special citation for its sacrifice. It surely added to the movies’ many comedic moments, but not among those that made me laugh.

* Related entry: The Animal Sensitivity Police Cap Is On

multi-tasking

2008-08-02T18:37:00.001+08:00

I ventured to do some major cleaning of my bedroom and bath this afternoon to get rid of whatever allergen that's still feeding my month-old cough. Funnily, this is one of those few times that I didn't end up exhausted, aching and sneezing after hours of wiping the walls, furniture and floor and changing sheets. Good. 'Guess my running and yoga are starting to pay off. And yes, it feels like I'm finally cured of the cough.

I even managed to put together this five-minute crafts project while I was dusting the knick knacks on my desk. This clock was a promo item from a mobile service provider from the 2005 Ad Congress that I've been meaning to jazz up since. Thanks to this post from the Pinoyscrapbookers' blog for the reminder. I do hope, though, that it still works when I buy it new batteries.

That's not all, I also had a Grey's Anatomy marathon on the side. It's one of the many Season 4 series in my lineup, and earlier this week I was contemplating on which one to pop in my player next after I've finished with Desperate Housewives. GA was the perfect choice on the basis of being the least addictive. That's understating it, actually - the series has become predictable to say the least. And preposterous, if you can believe those two adjectives can go together. Meredith's issues are getting old, Izzie's new obsession with her married best friend George is just not cute. Not only have these two characters not changed, everybody else in the hospital seem to be turning into them! Even the men (even Chief Webber!) talk like Meredith and Izzie now - seriously, what happened?

I did read Seth Green appears in two episodes somewhere in that season, though, so hurrah! On I still go.

inspirations from the foto baryo exhibit

2008-08-02T15:31:00.000+08:00

Scrapbooking on walls - this was my first thought at the sight of the Darasa part of the Foto Baryo students' exhibit. The photographs from all 3 exhibits on their own were captivating, to say the least, but this particular installation was made more sensorial with the addition of found objects from the site (a railroad community) itself.

Title plates

Minimalist grouping from the "Natural Lang" exhibit

Photo groupings

Part of the installation - wood from the railroad track...

... with Spongebob on it.

About Darasa

About Foto Baryo and the student photographers

____________
The Foto Baryo photography school is the brainchild of Tanuan native Fernando Afable, who has worked at the International Center of Photography (ICP) in New York. Darasa (one of the three parts of the Foto Baryo exhibit) is the product of the Tanauan Riles Project, Foto Baryo's photography workshop among teens from the Darasa Riles Community. I believe these photos were shot on film - darkroom processing and traditional printing were part of the students' course. Exhibit pictures taken on 19 Jul 2008, CCP.

too many movies, so little time

2008-08-01T15:31:00.000+08:00

MGM channel - the best thing that ever happened to Destiny Cable subscribers (aka, we who are deprived of AXN, Star Movies, Star World, Lifestyle Network, ANC, Myx and all those new channels the other provider has launched, and thus, if not for MGM have to make do with the repetitive movie-of-the-month programming from HBO).

This is a goldmine of sometimes obscure but critically-acclaimed films. Some are old and yellowing. Not as de-saturated as the black-&-white classics on TCM, more like 80s cult classics like Sex, Lies and Videotape or Barbara Streisand's Yentl or Vampire's Kiss (the movie that made Nicholas Cage notorious for eating a live cockroach, which was his idea, by the way, to make the scene more realistic). Or 70s stuff like The Amityville Horror and New York New York. Some are also pretty recent (like De-Lovely, the biopic about American songwriter Cole Porter or Much Ado About Nothing). I am now a suki of Rotten Tomatoes more than ever - checking the titles I've never heard of and getting excited to see most of them rating high on the Tomatometer.

But why do all the good movies get shown when you're preparing to leave the house or just about to turn the lights out for the night? Here are some of those I've caught a good 30 minutes of and been hoping to see in its entirety.

- The Color Purple. Multi-nominated Spielberg movie starring Oprah Winfrey and Whoopi Goldberg.

- At Close Range with Sean Penn and Christopher Walken as gangsters. Madonna's song Live to Tell was from this movie. They occasionally show this MTV-type teaser and I am struck at how lonely this song really is.

- What's the Matter with Helen, a 70s psycho-drama.

- A Dangerous Woman starring Debra Winger and Barbara Hershey.

- Four Friends, a coming-of-age story about 4 coeds set in the 60s.

I feel like a kid in a candy store. Doesn't this compensate enough for the stuff I'm missing from the other channels? Those that are or will be readily available in our friendly neighborhood DVD stores or torrent sites, anyway?

Mutually Exclusive

2008-07-31T19:51:00.001+08:00

You guys must know of other cat people besides myself. And surely, everyone has someone in their circle who's a die-hard Hello Kitty fanatic. (You can easily spot the latter just from their office cubicles.) But can you name anyone who's both a Hello Kitty devotee and loves cats? Probably not.

Having noticed this aberration from a handful of people (including myself), I've decided to ask a few more to confirm. This was how one of them went.

Me: do you like hello kitty?
Co-worker1: oh i used to collect hello kitty!!!!
Me: would you say you LOVE hello kitty?
Co-worker1: my grade school friends know me as the hello kitty girl. so, YES.
Me: okay. which do you like better - cats or dogs?
Co-worker1: (in less than a second): dogs

'Nuff said.

But here's a prime example - I asked another colleague who has sworn abhorrence towards cats and wish they'd disappear from the earth (strangely, she's my friend). I half-expected her to freak out at the mere suggestion, and that would've disproved my theory, but she did not. "Yes, I do like Hello Kitty". After her, I didn't think I have to ask any more people.

I wonder what went on in the head of the creator to have immortalized such an antithesis of the creature it represents. Was he even a cat owner, for except for the whiskers and pointy ears, there's nothing feline about Hello Kitty at all. Let's see, she enjoys wearing clothes and headgear, engages in activities that people may find useful, and... she even owns a pet cat. She has no mouth, so no fangs and looks like the nails are clipped or non-existent. And oh, she takes baths (as suggested by some merchandise, like below).

So, if you think about it, Hello Kitty is a freakish misnomer, no offense to fans.

As a postscript, I'd like to share with you this hilarious blog of a guy who's being a total sport about his wife's fanaticism (or is he?). Note that there's not a mention of live cat anywhere in it.

a disturbing "epiphany"

2008-07-28T10:11:00.000+08:00

Three-day weekends - don't we all wish for these? Aren't we grateful that our President, despite all her flaws, invented the moveable holiday, which might as well be her greatest gift to the working class of this country? I know this to be such a common sentiment that's why it surprised me to have read someone complaining on his blog that the weekend was just too short, like it was the first time he noticed it.

As I posted my comment, it dawned on me. If it was humankind's tragic fate to work for food since the beginning of time, and if that meant working 5 out of 7 days of the week (and even for a 3-day weekend, working days still outnumber the days off), then work-life balance was more of an exception than the rule.

Which brings me back to the question... do we really work to live, or is it the other way around? And is there even a point to turn things around if it contradicts our very destiny?

Obviously, it's a Monday.

the animal sensitivity police cap is on

2008-07-22T18:06:00.000+08:00

Jessica Zafra wrote about one of the Cinemalaya finalists, 100, "I give it my personal Best Performance by a Cat trophy." Cool. Apart from it bagging the most awards and sounding like a type of film I'd like to see, this affirmation by a fellow cat person makes me want to see this film more than ever.

It reminds me too of something quite the opposite - along the lines of "Worst Portrayal of a Cat" trophy. In a scene from Huling Pasada, another finalist that I've actually watched, the camera focuses on the wheels of the taxi the main protagonist Mario was driving. The cab stops at the red light and beside it, lay a flat corpse of a cat, obviously a roadkill. As if that wasn't graphic enough, another car screeches to a halt beside Mario's taxi and runs over the dead cat again. Aray.

I didn't stay until the end credits were finished so I'm not sure if there was a "No animals were harmed in the filming of this movie" statement and some kind of endorsement from the Philippine Animal Welfare Society. Has anyone seen it? I am hoping, actually, that the producers were respectful enough to use a stuffed dummy for that role instead of a genuine corpse. If not, boo!- I give it my personal "Most Insensitive to Animal Rights" award. Hmmmph, shouldn't indie films be trailblazers for political correctness?