Shoe shopping

mission: replace the classic pointy black pumps i chucked in singapore. (not because they couldn't fit into my bursting suitcase, but because it was in singapore that i realized how miserable they looked.)

mission accomplished in the span of three hours. i snagged a pair from cmg, which, like every freaking store in metro manila, is having a mid-year clearance sale.

there. all done. right?

right. crap. only a shoe freak like me can figure out a way to complicate such an easy task.

rewind: one of the first stores i went to (a reliable local manufacturer) had this absolutely gorgeous pair of black pumps with a spike heel. it was covered in this faux suede snakeskin pattern (a subtly sexy alternative to the plain leather upper) and was a happy compromise between the classic pointy toe and trendier round-toe shape. and it was in my budget! perfect!

alas, they didn't have it in my size -- and after a whole lot of waiting and dialing, i discovered that neither did eight of their branches around makati and mandaluyong. with a heavy heart, i bid the perfect sexy black pump goodbye. within an hour, i found myself in cmg, where i bought the aforementioned classic (if a bit plain) pointy-toed pump... and signed a waiver form that voided the return policy, since i got it on a clearance sale price.

happily, not knowing that my equilibrium was about to be shaken, i went down to sm to look for a cd rack. after getting sidetracked by the cornucopia of cute, cheap flats in the ladies' shoe section (i love parisian! grabe!), i came upon an unbelievable sight. my perfect sexy black pump... in my size! aieeeeeeeeee!

naturally i put it on 24-hour reserve (only after i spent a considerable amount of time wheedling and begging the sales staff at cmg to allow me to return my hour-old purchase). so the plan is to sell this pair to a friend and go back for the perfect sexy black pump tomorrow. luckily, i have a couple of fellow shopaholics in acs (tor, whose job in fashion retail gives her a clothing allowance, and aui, who texted me "grrr i hope it doesn't fit--but bring it tomorrow") who wear the same size shoe. so the prospects look good. my perfect sexy black pump, i shall return!

if i don't manage to sell it, though, i wouldn't mind getting "stuck" with this pair at all. they do look classy, seem sturdy, and have just the right height. my perfect sexy black pump will just have to forgive me.

(totally unrelated tidbit: i have just downloaded firefox and retired internet explorer. still waiting to be blown away.)

update: shoe swapping is a success! tor has agreed to take the above pair off my hands, and i traipsed back to sm to get this lovely pair.

yes i know what you're thinking.
so much agony over two pairs of shoes that look almost exactly alike.

i just dashed in and out of the mall before the shops setting up their midnight madness wares could sink their teeth into my wallet. i was beginning to feel this sick compulsion to begin my christmas shopping.

Currystrumpet vs.Currystrumpet

Exhibit A. The Eastern European White Collar Worker

You particularly enjoy the traditional way of life. Having drinks with your friends, attending parties and relaxing while watching TV (god when was the last time I did this???) are some of the simple pleasures you indulge in. You may also enjoy physical exercise. Your driving force is to retire as early as possible, so that you can do the things you enjoy more often. Your main source of ambition comes from this desire. You dont particularly like your job but you do it without complaining. You realize that the income that it provides is essential to your lifestyle. You are friendly yet competitive with your co-workers. This competitiveness may lead you to squander your earnings to match other peoples' possessions. You operate most effectively when there is a set power structure, and the lines of authority are clear. You know your place in the ranks, you play by the rules, and will deliver what is expected of you. You do not care for responsibility; you would rather be care free.

Exhibit B. The Southeast Asian Alpha Academic

You are a long-term planner, diligent worker and avoid risk as much as possible. You are of above average intelligence and have the ability to focus on tasks that seem unimportant at present, but can lead to greater things in the foreseeable future. You are not keen to interact with others or make social connections (ehhh??). You would rather gain material wealth before putting yourself in a position to be judged. You are not confrontational (isa pang malaking ehh???) unless someone directly opposes your intellectual beliefs. You are highly concerned with your social status. You are keen to avoid risks that could jeopardize your long-term plans. You take a calculated approach to life, working hard to control all aspects of it in order to not leave anything important to chance. You tend to be a perfectionist and quite self-conscious. You sometimes wish you were less reserved and more like some others you see who are more bold and outspoken in social situations. But as much as you try to be like them, you cannot, because you care too much about the future to ever be comfortable taking risks in social situations.

--

i put faceanalyzer.com to the test (after j recommended it weeks and weeks ago) and this is what turned up. hmmm. at the risk of sounding vain the only thing that i liked in both analyses was my picture. haha! but really, A makes me sound rather boring while B makes me sound like a pencil-necked geek/hermit.

at least this thing says i look ambitious, intelligent, rich and non-promiscuous, the latter perhaps being reason why nobody has ever tried to pick me up in a bar. there are just some girls who, regardless of how scantily clad or nunnified they are, can't take two steps without trying to be picked up by someone. meron ding mga sobrang appealing sa DOMs. i have a sneaking suspicion that my sister is one of those (ate peace tayo ha? but diba some DOM tried to pick you up when you were like 16 or something?)

and i am SO not happy with my celeb matches. rosie o'donnell and coco lee?!?! hello?!?!?! i used to get a lot of helena bonham carter remarks, and, when i had really short hair in high school, martina hingis. (whatever happened to her?) and there was also this point in time (when she and i were both long-haired and skinny, long long ago) that i bore an uncanny resemblance to monique wilson.

Dreaming...

... just dreaming. for now.

gowns by monique lhuillier. have lusted after badgley mischka forever, but i can't seem to find a decent trove of their recent stuff online.

fall 2005.

spring 2005.

Playing dress-up

In lieu of anything better to do last Friday, I decided to play dress-up. I'd been pretty lethargic the whole day, and climbing out of my two-day sickbed, I felt impelled to trowel some cosmetics over my ashen complexion (my lips were actually faintly gray). Marlon's homecoming was a convenient excuse to prettify myself.

A pair of tight jeans necessitated a loose top to hide excess waistline flab, so I picked up one of my dad's trusty old kurtahs. A side note about kurtahs: kurtahs are soft, flowing and often sheer tunics for men, embellished with delicate embroidery. My dad left behind a large trove of kurtahs, which we use for beach coverups, pambahay and pantulog because they're just so comfy. We gave a lot of them away, too, which is a real shame. The recent Indian/boho mania has a lot of idiotic fashion writers calling them kaftans, which irks me no end (it's caftan with a c -- caftans are not Indian in origin, and refer to an entirely different garment altogether).

Anyway. The kurtah I picked was white, sheer with thin white stripes and delicate white embroidery running along the lines of the collar and shoulder seams. Since it was oversized, I knotted the hems at my hips. I put on some gold and clear glass costume jewelry Marlon got me via Shivaani, his Indian best friend at P&G – a necklace with an ornate dangling pendant and two heavy bangles. I labored at my mirror to achieve a dewy, gleaming look with smoky eyes (the better for them to look deep-set and bumbay) and left my hair down and wavy.

The finishing touch was a tiny jewel out of the pack of bindi I picked up in Singapore, lodged just a little above and between my eyebrows. Channeling the aura of a Mumbai star, I glided off to the Pen lobby to reveal my beautiful Indian self to my boyfriend.

Whereupon I was met by a gaggle of Indians in the Pen driveway. Real, genuine Indians, a whole horde of them, calling it a night after some event at the ballroom. These were the rich Indians of Makati, totally decked out and fully loaded with Bollywood's best bling. The women wearing saris as women should, the men too dapper to seen out at night in kurtahs. And all of them, no doubt, wondering who this weird-looking girl was doing wearing a kurtah of all things with flared jeans and in that weird knot above her hip and just one miniscule bindi, a little off center at that.

Suddenly I felt just as I thought a Shenzhen-made LV bag would if someone plunked it down in the LV flagship store in Paris. And I couldn't seem to look up whenever I passed one of the “'real ones”. Suddenly I felt like a kid caught playing dress up, which was an incredibly fun thing at the start of the night but now just felt awfully stupid. Suddenly I thought of that scene in Bridget Jones when she shows up dressed as a Playboy bunny at what she thinks is a costume party but really isn't. I felt as stupid as a fictional character like Bridget could possibly feel, except that I'm a real person.

I've always made jokes about being a “fake Indian”. The last time an Indian introduced me to another Indian, who thought I was an Indian, he invoked that joke of mine. And I've always joked that I'm so fake I hardly know what to order in an Indian restaurant. All of a sudden, the joke was on me, and it wasn't as funny as I thought it always was.

--

don't worry folks, i'm ok. i didn't dwell on it for long at all. i guess if you really are in the mood to write, you just mine certain experiences. :-) forehead bindi image from www.bindi-bindis.co.uk.

Sunday random Sunday

lulu has been tugging on my arm a lot lately. she wants a LapSchtick (above). the pink one. she's been goggling over the other funky designs too.

i think i should tell her that she's too young. or take a page from my high school administrators and tell her that a young lady should uphold the virtues of simplicity and modesty at all times. but then she might turn against me and develop a personality.

good (extremely good) news: marlon is home!
bad news: that means i am about to get fat -- again.
good news: i think i lost weight over the past two weeks.
bad news: a weighing scale burst my balloon (i think it's lying though. i can't possibly weigh what it tells me i weigh.)
good news: my cough is better, and i can breathe properly now.
bad news: it's day four of sounding like inday badiday...
good news: ... but it could actually be day one of sounding a bit like drew barrymore.

(hey, we ended on good news! it's been a good weekend!)

--

the island was a rather pleasant surprise. granted, it had one of those infuriating pinoy-movie type trailers that stop very, very close to telling you the entire plot-- marlon was apopleptic with rage the first time we saw it (“wtf?!?!? there is no island?! they're clones?!?!”).

despite this self-inflicted handicap, however, it turns out to be quite an entertaining movie. having taken away the question of what, the movie attempts to answer the questions of why and how instead. and it has some pretty cool action/chase sequences. just take the touches of the matrix, minority report and gattaca in stride, and you'll be fine.

the two leads were very well cast -- i love, love, love ewan mcgregor (and i loved him doubly *wink wink* so in this movie), and scarlett johanssen didn't irritate me as much as she usually does with her i-am-an-expressionless-ephemeral-ingenue-watch-my-perpetually-half-open-pouty-lips-do-all-the-acting-for-me emoting. she seems to do the whole vulnerable-innocent schtick rather well.

i also liked the dashes of humor and satire, as well as the fact that they started to come out in the right places – or place, as in location, to be exact.

so yes, i would recommend that you see the island. especially if your only choices at the cinema are if only (starring jennifer love “boobs na tinubuan ng baba” hewitt) and fantastic four. blech.

Inday, is that you?

i've been in bed for the past two days with the same nasty cough/cold/fever that befell my sister and my lola last week. as long as i'm not missing anything important or fun, i don't mind being sick. at the risk of sounding like an anorexic freak, it sure is the quickest way to lose weight. but marlon's coming home this evening, so i guess i must say goodbye to this fabulous less-flabby tummy. comfort fondue at old swiss inn awaits.

the only drawback: the fact that i sound uncannily like inday badiday. i rarely ever lose my voice (i've kept it through pharyngitis, laryngitis and countless bouts of tonsilitis), so this is really freaky for me. i have the strangest feeling that hordes of little lost children are going to turn up at my doorstep at any moment.

saranghamneda, bo.

--

still twiddling my thumbs as my new raket seems to have hit upon a delay. so has the behemoth, after showing signs of life and promising to call yesterday to schedule an interview. it seems to have fallen back into its characteristic stupor. haaay.

thankfully (and surprisingly), my old teammates at the factory dropped some freelance work on my lap -- which only tells me that their workload must be reaching new heights. kasi naman eh.

--

i haven't done one of these in a while.

what kind of first impression do you think people have when they first see you?
extremes. either suplada or extremely outgoing.

what's one thing you like to do alone?
read while snacking

what is your favorite line to say when bored?
haaay

what movie made you cry?
among the many, the most memorable was dancer in the dark, because i came very close to sobbing (a.k.a. hagulgol) in class. i managed to keep it down to a nice, ladylike hikbi.

do you ever have to beg?
yes, but i try to do it in a pa-cute way

what kind of books do you like to read?
fiction, travel writing, books with pictures hehe

do you think you're cute?
why, yes indeedy. ang sad naman if i didn't.

do you have a problem changing clothes in front of your friends?
sorta. it must be the thirteen years spent locked up in a catholic nunny school.

favorite communication method?
text or email

do you care?
about most things, yes.

what do you eat when you raid the fridge at night?
bread or cheese, chocolate if i'm lucky enough to find some

if you could have plastic surgery, what would you have done?
since i guess permanent hair removal doesn't count as plastic surgery, probably a lipo. i shudder at the thought of having anything done to my face and ending up not looking like myself.

describe your bed.
white cast iron twin bed with gold accents

spontaneous or planned?
spontaneous when it comes to gimmicks, definitely planned when it comes to trips or work

do you know how to play poker?
yes, but i get confused between the rules of pusoy and pusoy dos

what do you carry with you at all times?
wallet, keys, cellphone and lipstick

what do you miss most about being little?
being super pampered

are you happy with your given name?
yes, after seventeen years of struggling with it. it doesn't fit any last names except my own, though.

how much would it take to give up the internet for 1 year?
no freaking way. at the moment, i make my living off the net.

what color is your bedroom?
mostly white with one deep pink wall

have you ever been in a play?
yes, quite a few actually

do you like yourself and believe in yourself?
yes, although i have days when i get really frustrated with myself. it helps that people i admire and respect believe in me.

do homeless, or starving people sometimes annoy you?
no.

do you consider yourself to be a nice person?
most of the time, yes.

what is your ideal marriage location?
a small church with pretty stained-glass windows and nice acoustics.

whats one instrument you wish you could play?
the piano! waaa i should never have quit it.

something you like and hate?
at the same time? hmm. i guess manila. more like love and hate haha.

whats one language you want to learn?
i've always wanted to continue my german.

have you ever pierced your body parts?
ears

do you have any tattoos?
nope

would you admit to getting plastic surgery if confronted?
yeah, i guess

whats one trait you hate in a person?
pretentiousness

do you consider yourself materialistic?
i can be, at times

what do you cook best?
fish with lime and coriander vinaigrette, salads (does that count as cooking?)

do you cry in front of your friends?
yes, especially if i see them crying first. this happened soooo many times on tour.

A Labyrinth moment

"You have no power over me!"

--Sarah to Jareth the Goblin King, in Labyrinth

visited the old alma mater this evening and went down to the home department. had a brief chit-chat with the resident lust object revered institution of learning, which was pretty much my purpose for walking all the way there.

as i basked in the glow of his democratic charm (democratic because he seems to parcel it out without prejudice, as does jaza with his benevolent smile), i had the irrestistible urge to shout out this immortal line from my favorite movie.

well, it wasn't that irresistible an urge, i guess, because i managed not to do it. whew.

cheap thrill: when he was musing about the last time he saw me, i told him it was well over a year ago, when i was thinking of working for him. he was the one who reminded me of a much more recent encounter. okay fine, that's a really cheap thing to get kilig over, but still.

aaugh. you have no power over me!

On the move

spent a good five to six hours yesterday working my butt off, plowing through my junkpiles AND NOW THEY'RE GONE! wahoo! my room has never been neater! i filled a small carton and three large plastic bags with all the stuff i cleared out of my room. chucking things out is so liberating. now the only remaining eyesore is my pile of bags, for which my mom already has a plan of attack.

in the wake of my decorating spree, allow me present today's mini project: a display frame for my dangling earrings (left). the magic ingredients: a piece of deep pink paper to match my wall (care of my huge paper collection), discounted gold frame from true value and wire mesh from the neighborhood hardware store. it took all of five minutes to cobble together. this makes it easier to choose a pair of earrings when dressing up, rather than having to perpetually peck through the antique blue glass cup i used to store them in.

--

the behemoth is finally on the move. went over this morning to their hq to take an exam (entirely in filipino, no less!) for a creative position. ang masasabi ko lang, leche sila! ang tagal tagal nilang gumalaw! if my raket does push through this month, i might not even need or want to work for them anymore!

the prospect of having loads of free time (plus saving on getting-around expenses) is so appealing. i may start pushing my voiceover skills more too, since my sister's best friend, the voice talent career diva extraordinare (yes, she really deserves such a title), will be leaving the country for good this september, thereby leaving a giant void of vo jobs for the picking. mooahahahaha.

--

and finally, meron pa palang nagpapakilala out of the blue? jusme! i thought grown men outgrew that sort of behavior in high school. while walking to the behemoth's hq from the mrt, a man walking behind me asked me if i was from mandaluyong. fresh from a country where nobody really needs to be on their guard 24/7, neneng-me said yes. then he nodded to the behemoth. "diyan ka nagwo-work?" he inquired. neneng-me answered in the negative. then he sprung the classic line.

"pwede bang makipagkilala? ako nga pala si **** -- and you are?"

ano BUZZ???? this was lamer than a quadriplegic. his attire of plaid polo shirt and baseball cap with slacks should have tipped me off that he was a giant repressed loser who had never grown up. i turned away and waved him off as i do those people who stand at the corner of makati ave and buendia every morning, handing out leaflets that say things like "financial problems? earn up to p100,000 monthly!" or "lose weight without diet or exercise!"

i was rather creeped out by this (understandably so), so i walked briskly to the exit of the station and took a cab to take me around the block before entering the behemoth gate, just in case he worked there. i'm thankful he didn't get bastos or try to follow me or anything.

haaay manila. thanks for reminding me how a true manilena should comport herself when she's on the move. i'll be more wary next time.

Twiddling my thumbs

... and still waiting for instructions to begin my new raket.

i might just fix up my room today. i went to rockwell yesterday determined to treat myself to a new pair of shoes because the whole mall was on sale. and.... i didn't! no matter how hard i looked for a nice pair, i simply didn't feel like getting anything. not even clothes. it must have been the one month in singapore. being surrounded by a nation teeming with retail-obsessed citizens seems to have zapped my shopping urges. baka inabsorb ng mga singaporeans.

instead, i decided to do something useful for my room. at a store called make room, i bought myself a white canvas trunk for all the junk that's piled beside my bookcase. i also got a matching white canvas tray for my art materials or other things that i go through frequently. and i got a gold frame at true value, which i plan to fit with wire mesh to hang all my earrings on.

i toyed with the idea of getting a shoe rack (all my shoes are currently stored in matching turquoise shoeboxes, which take up quite a bit of space) but figured i'd better go slow with the purchasing. and i should probably look somewhere cheaper for such a generic item.

i'm quite happy with the trunk though. later i'll be hauling stuff into it to get rid of my junk piles. and i'll be bringing up a worktable from downstairs to create a nice little space for lulu and her playmate from hp. plus i plan to decorate the plain brown file box where i keep my music pieces. i've postponed that project for about two years now.

things to buy later on: a shoe rack, white foamboard (to mount my travel pics on), 3m double sided tape, wire mesh, and a white canvas hamper for all my bags. major production na ito!

p.s. marlon is coming home for work on friday. he's staying one week. happiness!

Lulu is missing a party

i'm at loi's house for a supposed worksession for acs' next big project. there are four people here with laptops plus a wlan access point, and i didn't bring lulu! waah. she would have had so much fun.

on a much happier note: my raket care of he-who-must-not-be-named is supposed to start on monday. although i'm a bit apprehensive, i'm also extremely thankful. ibig sabihin, in one month, susweldo na ako! without having to shell out anything for transpo or food! loveliness!

my only expense will be the cable internet that i'm having installed sometime in the next week, and i'm splitting that with my boyfriend and sister (sister for cable tv, boyfriend for skype). i can actually opt NOT to get an office job EVER when i start with this raket. and the freedom to make that choice is something that i'm really thankful for.

--

random recommendation: eric does emotions. i was particularly tickled by his mr. burns' "excellent" face. i'm thinking of asking him to do an obsequious grin.

Splut

that is the sound of a cat getting unceremoniously killed. by curiosity, of course.

subtitlers make minimum wage, or about php 8,600 a month. the work is, obviously, appending subtitles to various video content (usually for foreign release), in this case using a computer program called a global titling system (gts). they work under a quota system, where the length of the video they subtitle is measured on a daily, and then monthly, basis. the running average is about 43 minutes per day.

i got to try it out myself for an hour during a hands-on test. the content i had to subtitle was QUITE interesting. it was a six-minute video segment about the production design of 'the aviator.' it took me a little less than an hour to transcribe the segment, the main stumbling block being that the production designer, dante ferretti, is old-school italian with a super heavy accent. but he was quite charming in a stoic way (kind of like fr. nick from the comm dept), and definitely very, very good at his passion and life's work.

subtitling looks kind of cool, but doing it day in, day out for minimum wage would obviously drive me batty.

and that is that.

--

i had the most interesting cab ride home today. the cabbie was this youngish albularyo/manghihilot from valenzuela, whom in the drive from makati to mandaluyong told me how to hilot my way to thinness; that a married, 30+ year old man is attracted to me; to be wary of walking on sidewalks (bangketa) by myself; that i would leave the country four times if i married a filipino; that i had 11 (was it 11?) foreigners in my future. i sure hope he didn't mean intimate relationships with said number. juskopo! pila balde na ito.

he told me a ton of things about my physical health, such as that my shoulders aren't aligned (the right one is lower), my lungs are healthy and that one kidney is weak (ergo to cut down on sodium). the others i can't remember, because they weren't as fun as a peek into my future.

as our cab was stuck in the irrepressible makati avenue traffic, he read my palm and pulse and told me that on a sort of 'luck scale' of eight stars, i had five stars. that meant i would be successful and rich ('hindi ka maghihirap' -- whew), although he failed to elaborate by what means. damn! i could have used that particular piece of information.

he also said that a man would fritter away all his money just to marry me ('uubusin niya ang pera niya, mapangasawa ka lang. take note hindi syota ha, mapangasawa ka talaga.') marlon, my broke boyfriend, is that you? haha. according to the cabbie, i was such a prize because i had some inflationary effect on his luck and good fortune.

from experience i know marlon and i have an inflationary effect on each other, period. :P

I knew it

my month-long indulgence in unlimited broadband and wifi has turned me into an internet junkie.

why else would i be up at this ungodly hour, when i have to get up bright and early at 8am for an appointment (okay, an interview), hanging on for dear life to this stupid 33.6 kbps prepaid dial-up connection?

help. i actually sensed it on my second or third week in singapore, when i would spend an entire day just curled up in bed with lulu. i can see myself growing hollow-eyed (or bug-eyed, or both) and pale, sort of like a smeagol for the 21st century. i tried to stave off that imminent doom today by wearing a bright turquoise sweater, coral-colored lipgloss and wearing my hair long and curly. go figure.

the most pathetic thing is that i've become an internet junkie about eight years too late. god i can remember when i was in high school and everyone had just discovered the net. you could barely tear people away from their computers. now here i am, 23 years old and just beginning my online life. i'm such a dork.

the interview, by the way, is something that i'm going to more out of curiosity than anything. i found a want ad for subtitlers (yes, those people who put subtitles on movies and crap) and i'm dying to know how much they get paid, what makes a good vs. bad subtitler and what the workload is like. it should make an interesting post at the very least.

i'm sorry this made no sense. it must be the icky downstream rate of this stupid connection. toodle-loo.

Withdrawal symptoms

waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

i want my boyfriend.

i want bouncy queen size bed.

i want floor-to-ceiling window with city view.

i want my boyfriend.

i want pool and jacuzzi.

i want my boyfriend.

i want wifi and broadband internet.

i want split-type aircon.

i want playstation.

i want hassle-free commuting.

did i already mention that i want my boyfriend?

waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

--

okay self-indulgent whining over. back to the real world.

the first thing that struck me when i got back to my own room was the amount of stuff that i have. my goodness. after living with marlon, who has this ultra-neat zen type room, seeing my own stuff was kind of overwhelming. i want to chuck everything in the trash.

i've started cleaning up little by little, and trying to quash the nagging voice of the packrat in me ("should i throw away this invitation to the baptism of the kid of a girl i used to attend choir with? but the baby's so cute!"). i have multiples of so many things: magazines, shoes and bags (obviously), loose photos, notebooks, and lotions and soaps. i must have about four bottles of lotion lying around my room.

i need storage. pronto. lots of it. and no giant tupperware types either. i need a worktable and chair.

hmm. i guess that means my next big project is giving my room a makeover.

--

i've been feeling blessed lately. to think i almost dreaded coming home. for one thing, i go to sleep feeling pleasantly tired, but much more relaxed than i used to. when i was still at my old job, there were days that just made me crawl into bed stiff with frustration and fatigue. and my skin seems to be much better now.

i got my last paycheck from the factory, and it's a lot more than i expected. so i am facing the next couple of months with a little ease. i know i can take more time to decide on my next step, which will be an important one. i don't want to panic on this next decision, or rush it because i'm running out of money, which was what i was afraid would happen.

i know i could have gotten much more, financially and even career-wise, if i had stayed--even just one more month. i saw that when i visited my friends at the office and got my final paycheck. but in truth, i wouldn't have traded the past month for anything. and that makes me happy, content and hopeful.

Quick tips for surviving a budget airline flight

move heaven and earth to secure a window seat by the emergency exit. in a small, single-aisle plane with reduced seat pitch, this is probably the single best thing you can do for yourself. i did this on both my flight out and my flight back home, and am now happily resigned to a possible lifetime of budget trips. (as jetstar or valuair, i forget which, says -- a good low cost carrier assures you of travelling in both dignity and comfort.)

then, if you're short, as i am, you can have a good laugh at the long-legged people who are stuck, squirming and crammed into the normal seats. this helps you cope with the lack of an inflight entertainment system. and it's one of those rare times when we short people can feel superior to tall people, who perhaps by virtue of their height, probably earn thrice what we do.

i offer two options by which you can achieve this seemingly impossible feat, both of which i did.

• check in at least three hours before boarding time. this way, you get your run of seats. i did this on my flight out -- yes, me, a notoriously lazy and perpetually late person. it worked. i got the exit seat purely by chance.
• book a weekday flight. a weekday flight is not only cheaper on most budget airlines, but they stand the best chance of being wonderfully empty unless it's some sort of major holiday. such was the case on my return flight. i not only got to sleep in, check in relatively late, request my seating preference, but the two seats beside me were empty. ahhh. bliss. thus i slumbered away my three-hour flight stretched out in comfort. (which only short people can do.)

knock yourself out the night before. stay up till 4am packing and repacking. go clubbing. go on a 10k run. go to sentosa and get buffeted by the hordes. make prank calls. do laundry. i don't know, think of some way to wear yourself out. this ensures that you sleep away as much of the flight as humanly possible, thereby negating the so-called minuses of budget airline services. meals? inflight movies? who needs them?

i don't usually resort to this as i am the most hassle-free airline passenger to have on board. i am a sleeping freak. i've slept all the way through 17-hour long-haul flights and 21-hour cross-country bus trips. yung tipong pag gising ko nakatawid na ako ng tatlong bansa. so the three-hour flight from manila to singapore is usually a cinch for me.

incidentally, i did stay up late packing. hanggang 1am lang naman. but that was mostly because of those freaking one-dollar books. hee hee.

bring food or loose change. opt for small, handy snacks and that all-important bottle of water. alternatively, dump all your loose change on the flight attendants. as most moneychangers don't accept coins, they will only go to waste the minute you touch down on home soil. i enjoyed a very nice chocolate chip cookie care of my spare coinage. it was really good -- warm, chewy and full of huge melty chocolate chips. almost too good for a budget airline.

bring a warm jacket and hand cream. no blankets = freezing ass. and no lotion in the lavatory = chapped hands. 'nuf said.

--

my chosen budget airline for this trip was jetstar. i have absolutely no complaints. the planes are so new that they positively gleam. the attendants' uniforms are cute and funky. the leather seats are comfy. goodbye philippine airlines. i don't have to put up with you any longer.

--

yes, i'm home. nothing says pilipinas to me more than my mom coming out to meet me, listening to a.m. radio in the taxi, and a plate of rice topped with steaming chunks of century tuna, spanish style.

Lulu's new playmate

got this for winning this.

needless to say, i am tickled pink. it's compact, cute, user-friendly and perfect for finally executing my long-delayed project: decorating my room with my travel photos. hee hee!

on the downside though, this means i really have to reorganize my room. compact as it is, i have absolutely no space for lulu's new playmate!

--

went to funan IT mall and straightaway got me a pack of 100 4R semi-glossy sheets. also picked up an lcd screen wipes and matching headsets for skyping with the boyf. (skype is one of the major reasons he decided to invest in lulu. it should cut down our phone bills by at least half.)

grabe. i want to go to greenhills and get lulu all sorts of accountrements. but not yet.

also had the much vaunted ya kun kaya toast with iced coffee. a light, sweet and yummy snack.

spent some time gallivanting around the outskirts of little india. got bindis, cheap leather sandals and cinnamon incense for myself as well as a box of lily of the valley incense for my mom. gawked over a rack of indian costume jewelry with everything for SGD10 (about Php 330). after agonizing, decided to just save my money. :-P

Bookstore booty

a funny thing happened on the way to the chalk art by the river event. marlon and i were sidetracked by a bookstore. not just any bookstore, mind you.

a bookstore that sold books for...

... get ready...

ONE DOLLAR APIECE!

ONE FREAKING DOLLAR!

(at the moment, one singapore dollar is equal to about 33 philippine pesos. you can check for yourself here. one dollar gets you to the minimum fare stage on an aircon bus, or a copy of the straits times, or a bottle of mineral water, or two glittery hair ties from a shop at cathay, with ten or twenty cents' change.)

so after trying to stop ourselves from peeing in our pants, the boyf and i indulged. how could we not?

i immediately set upon looking for reminders of simpler times. aside from a whole wall full of vintage ladybird classics (remember those thin, hardbound fairytale books?), i was happy to find these, and a whole lot more.

these, along with jessica's secret diary, are what i took home. upon rereading them, i realized that i love how jessica is written.

i got these, too:

plus this, out of pure curiosity. is this the same christopher nolan who was responsible for batman begins?

and when marlon showed me this hilarious, campy cheeseball, i simply could not resist. i simply had to know...

who would, indeed?

some books from marlon's little trove:

and the coup de grace,

which sells for about SGD 32 SGD, or over PhP 1,000. the book was in superb condition. marlon and i have many, many books that are in a much sorrier state.

it's going to take me at least a month to plow through everything we got. happiness!

Weary little mouse

just wanted to share.

Disturbed

Disturb us, O Lord,
when we are too well pleased with ourselves;
when our dreams have come true
because we dreamed too little;
when we arrive safely
because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, O Lord,
when with the abundance of things we possess
we have lost our thirst for the Waters of Life;
having fallen in love with life,
we have ceased to dream of eternity;
and in our efforts to build a new earth,
we have allowed our vision of the new heaven to grow dim.

Disturb us, O Lord, to dare more boldly -
to venture on wider seas where storms will show your mastery;
where losing sight of land, we shall find the stars.

In the name of Him
Who pushed back the horizons of our hopes
And invited the brave to follow Him.
Amen.

--

thinking (too much) about so many things. homecoming. the future. choices. freedom. potential. casting lots. hope. belief. action. nation. myself. my family. strengths. faults. passion. stability. art. skill. growing up. responsibility. pagtataya.

i don't know what to say.

except maybe this prayer.

--

interestingly enough, i found another version of this prayer on the web. the last two lines are different, and instead read:

We ask you push back the horizons of our hopes,
and to push us in the future
with strength, courage, hope and love.

So queue me

stalking gaiman, day 2

before i go on, i must clarify something. i didn't go to neil gaiman's singapore appearances two days in a row because i'm an obsessive fangirl stalker. it's just really easy to tail him here. the population, and therefore the fan base, is really small compared to manila, so less people to contend with. the efficient transport system combined with great weather, no traffic and practically everything being just ten minutes from everything else makes zipping about the city very easy.

besides, i figured i had nothing better to do. i didn't have any of my books with me, so i toted everything marlon had in my giant orange woven bag. on to books kinokuniya at ngee ann city. the signing was slated to start at 4pm, so i decided to be 'early' and go right after lunch with marlon. early. yeah right. i got sidetracked by a certain department store by the name of takashimaya, where i window-shopped for about an hour.

upon arriving in kino, i prowled about and saw a small table behind velvet ropes, large signs proclaiming the name of our hero, and ... NO CROWD! so i decided to browse for another hour or so. boba.

this area happens to be conveniently located at a corner. upon returning an hour later and actually rounding said corner, i found a line -- excuse me, a queue -- winding not just all the way around kino, but between and among rows and rows of shelves. que horror. (kino is maybe twice the size of fully booked in rockwell.)

i trod forlornly to the end of the queue, all the way in the japanese language section where i couldn't even browse through books to while away the time. apparently smart people who had peeked around the goddamn corner had been queueing up since 11am. god!

and apparently, a voice from the heavens announced, "due to overwhelming response", neil gaiman would be returning for a second signing session at 830pm. this session would start at 430 and end promptly at 630.

and the waiting began.

i made two very nice friends in the queue: may-ann, dressed entirely in black with a little silver ankh at her throat. she was furiously jotting down something in a notebook, which she later tore out and presented to neil (close?!). she must have noticed me eyeing her bubble-wrapped (!) copy of death: the high cost of living, because she generously offered to lend it to me while we were in line. i accepted gratefully, as i was dying to read it.

then there was joyce, who took the train all the way from kuala lumpur to have her books signed. this is how we met: a girl darted in front of us wearing a black coat. i thought nothing of it until i caught the tails of her coat stirring a breeze as she passed. then joyce said, somewhat in shock, "uh... was that girl dressed as desire?" and so we began talking. joyce later presented a cute little black voodoo doll keychain to neil. she said it seemed to go with the stuff he wrote.

later, the three of us would see four endless walking by: desire, death, destiny and dream (whom, may-ann remarked, looked nothing like death as he was rather pimply, brown and short). i figured nobody wanted to come as despair (some singaporean anti-nudity law? or is it just really hard to find an obese singaporean?), but i was disappointed that delirium wasn't around. she should have been pretty easy.

may-ann said, "i guess this is the only place they can walk around and everyone will know why they're dressed that way." i added, "yeah, as soon as they step out of kino everyone will just think they're freaking weird."

neil stopped signing at about ten people away from us. that was a bummer.

i THINK that brown half-mop is the top of his head. at any rate, i was this close when he started to pack up and go away. dammit.

a couple of people decided not to stay, bringing us right up to the front of the queue. i didn't know if i wanted to wait two hours more to get marlon's books signed. my newfound friends wouldn't budge, though. one of them came from another country just for this. the other individually bubble-wrapped her gaiman comics, for crying out loud. so i guess they inspired me to park my ass and wait. they even smuggled fries in for me and lent me their books while they went for dinner (a very good selection, between the two of them. i read stardust, illustrated by charles vess, and black orchid). plus may-ann lent me her phone so i could call marlon.

so finally, after the arrival of my boyfriend, a bag of soggy fries and famous amos nibblers, and FIVE AND A HALF HOURS OF WAITING (are you reading this, domokun)? we got to meet neil gaiman (again) and have marlon's books signed. (one is dedicated to marlon and deepa. hehe)

jeline, i got to ask him your questions (except the concept album one). he wrote his autograph and the answer to your elvis costello question on a piece of paper, which is now officially yours. and yes, he does write song lyrics. he named three bands who have recorded his songs, and for the life of me i can't remember any of them. i think one was called flash girls.

moral of the story: prepare for the worst, and do not underestimate the crowd. i've been through quite a few crappy celebrity experiences so this one was not a problem for me. the main problem here i think is that nobody thought the fan base would be so big. mas lalo pa siguro sa 'pinas.

but, it must be said that kino is supposedly much more experienced at holding book signings, so things went fairly smoothly. (how many book signings has fully booked organized? i'm not dissing them. just something to consider when you are deciding what time to line up.) plus, the natives are docile and organized by nature. nobody, and i mean nobody, tried to cut in line. not even the may-kakilala-ako-tara-lapitan-natin style bulok that we pinoys do so well.

for anansi girl: more pics from the monday session. i was seated at the rear, so this was the best i could do.

Mr. Sandman, dream me a dream

after eight dollars, two frantic cab rides, dashing up seven escalators (not knowing if i had the right venue), enduring the pee-like smell welling up from the orchard cineleisure floor, dropping the house key and having to kneel on said floor to retrieve it, wiping drippy black gunk off my knees with free wet wipes from some singaporean anti-drug society, fretting over having none of my or my sister's books of his to sign, buying a brand-new coraline, listening to his dry brit humor, watching clips of mirrormask, marveling at a relatively dead crowd and pining for manila, and waiting patiently at the second-to-the-last row of the cinema for two hours, i came face to face the man behind the king of dreams.

neil gaiman was visibly drained from two hours of 'scrawling as if his life depended on it' (his words), but he was absolutely gracious and well-mannered. obviously he's done this many, many times before. he greeted me with a smile and thanked me for waiting for so long. (maybe he should have thanked me for not cutting in line.) i presented him with a slip of cardboard bearing my name, and introduced myself. "what a lovely name," he murmured, and proceeded to scrawl it, using a blue ballpoint pen, onto the first page of my brand-new coraline.

below my name, a loopy, unrecognizable creature began to emerge. "and that is--?" i asked. i was then possessed by the urge to clap my hand over my mouth. i had just made it obvious to this man that he should stick to writing and leave the drawing to artists. to borrow a phrase from rina diva: die, taklesa, die!

he chuckled wryly. "that is a mouse after two hours of signing."

he topped off the whole thing with a large signature, and gamely posed for a photo with me. when i thanked him, he replied, "you're quite welcome."

so, jeline, to confirm reports: yes, he's very nice. no, he's not smelly. i didn't think to sniff while at his side, but if he had any objectionable odors, i would have smelt them from where i was standing.

all hail the king of dreams. i wish i could be at the manila gathering. that would be so much more fun. i can only imagine the raucous cheers when he first emerges, and after every clip of mirrormask. (will they even show this at home, though?)

this entry should be called stalking gaiman, day 1. i'm going back to orchard for his free talk later, and to get more of marlon's books signed.

--

so, my slovenian friends. you now outnumber the visitors from my own country. what do i have to say to get you folks to speak up? ;-)

Currystrumpet, a certified artiste

yes, that's artiste with an e – the singaporean way. i've mentioned how vastly irritated i am with this term, which is applied to just about everyone in singapore's puny elite entertainment industry. well, last weekend i came upon quite a conundrum.

i find the label 'artiste' infuriating
people call me an artiste
do i then infuriate myself?

haha. i'm exaggerating, although i did spend one sunday afternoon being called an 'artiste' by scores of passersby. as part of the singapore arts festival, the arts house opened up the parliament promenade on boat quay (a kind of glorified sidewalk along the singapore river, opposite a whole bank of touristy restos) to anyone who wanted to draw on it with chalk.

the event, dubbed chalk art by the river (the sheer creativity just kills me), drew mostly primary school kids, a couple of tourists, and two art-starved stragglers.

two art-starved stragglers

so there we were, scratching on the cement sidewalk with chalk alongside little singaporeans. there was a competition being held for the best chalk art, which we decided to sign up for just so we could get the set of soft chalk pastels that were handed out to the entrants. (non-competitive artists were given large chunks of plain colored chalk instead.) the theme of the competition was 'my story.' did i already mention that the sheer creativity just kills me?

cynicism aside, it was quite fun. we chose a patch of sidewalk where we could draw beside each other, with him in the shade and me in the sun (naturally). we set to work, each wrapped up in our own world -- which was, for the next four hours, four squares of a rough cement sidewalk, slowly filling up with color.

woh don't disturb lah! artiste at work!

i have always loved rolling up my sleeves (figuratively) and getting all messy when i draw. my high school friends would call me 'dugyot' when they saw me working on the classroom bulletin board in my paint-stained t-shirt or sando, school skirt and bare feet, lying on my stomach on the cement tile floor of our classroom. during this sunday afternoon, my knees were gray from the dust on the sidewalk and my hands black from the pastels. but i didn't really care.

marlon and i both love to draw, although we prefer different media. he mostly does oil, pencil sketches (really good ones too!) and pastels, while i like to do watercolors, collages and ink drawings. and of course our styles are very different too. although in this particular instance, our drawings actually complemented each other. most of the passersby remarked on this. (yes, the same passersby who said things like, "woh lah! a real artiste lah!")

we decided to scrap the theme and just draw whatever.

my mushy finishing touch


yessiree he cooks, cleans, does laundry, solves math problems in his head, writes and spoils his girlfriend. all that and he draws too!

art-starved stragglers, appeased

met a couple of interesting people while we were getting all dirty on the sidewalk. a pair of photographers who wanted to take our photos with our works, a young dad who employed a filipina yaya, and one man who asked if we were professional artists. we almost snorted (would we be this fat if we were starving artists?). the man was so shocked when he found out we just drew as a hobby.

the event was hp-sponsored, meaning we each got a nice digital printout of our works on photo paper. we washed off the grime in the arts house, had some lemon sorbet at nearby cafe society. afterwards, being the type a competitive couple that we are, marlon and i checked out the 'competition' and patrolled our little masterpieces, guarding them zealously against bikers and pedestrians. i don't think some people knew how closely they came that afternoon to complete and utter vivisection.

my favorite among the 'competition.' hee hee


ending the day with a beautiful sunset -- the first of its kind marlon and i have seen in singapore

p.s. i won second prize in the competition. i wonder what i won. cash would sure come in handy as i am extending my stay to july 11 -- yes, a full month.

--

random tidbits:

hey people from slovenia. statcounter tells me a bunch of you visited my blog. if you're from the stroj, i think you rock (as you can see from my entry about you). and i think your country rocks too. so be friendly and leave me a comment. :-)

i saw war of the worlds. it is indeed very spielbergian, but the ending was just too abrupt. i hope dakota fanning grows up to be very ugly, and that tom cruise discovers other forms of emotion apart from revealing his forehead veins.

i had lunch with he-who-must-not-be-named (term borrowed from g). it was fun, if a bit overwhelming and confusing. here i go being made to think about my life again. tip: the easiest way to make me do something is to tell me i could be extremely good at it. then watch me turn myself inside out as i convince myself that it's really what i want.

the other he-who-must-not-be-named, who faced my hot pink powers, has left a trail of hate all over asia as proof of his dementia. absolutely fascinating. i just met one very influential person who has plenty in common with me and the first he-who-must-be-named (and whom i was totally unprepared to meet).