Being with friends

on thursday night, i went to acs rehearsals feeling like a heap of dung. it was an awful rehearsal. everything seemed too loud, my ears were ringing, the lights were too bright at pakiramdam ko parang binugbog ako. o kaya parang masusuka ako sa pagod. during downtime at rehearsals, i wondered why i was feeling that way. i recalled my last few posts on this blog -- work, work and more work. a lot of angst.

it was then that i realized i was not so much physically as emotionally drained; and that the latter can take a much bigger toll than i imagined it could. i've spent longer hours at the office for other projects. it's just that i've invested more of myself in this project than any others -- it's been more of a struggle.

and so when we traipsed to dada's house later that evening for her post-rehearsals birthday dinner, i sat at the dinner table like a lump, barely able to finish the famous de pano spaghetti. i just sat there and let their laughter wash over me, their company strengthen me, until i found myself laughing along with them over hilarious tour stories -- some that we were hearing for the first time in five, six years; others that have been retold at dozens of late-night dinners, never failing to elicit gales of laughter from the same group of people.

a couple of minutes before we left dada's house, i saw peter with a beer and decided it would be a perfect way to cap a long day. i sought out the cooler in dada's garage and fished out a frosty bottle of san mig light, sighing with relief as i popped off the cap and took a long swig. this is exactly what i needed, i thought to myself as i curled up on the couch with my bottle, the laughter of my friends resounding all around me. but after a few deep swigs, i knew that it wasn't just the beer that i so badly needed, and got, that night.

it was laughter. it was the joy of creating, and sharing, and reliving.

it was the unconditional, honest appreciation of friends.

it was the security and constancy of these people who i felt i've known forever and can't imagine life without -- an intangible embrace, that is as warm and real and palpable as a physical hug.

it was being with people who know precisely who deserves all the glory, all the time.

it was remembering that i have a place and purpose outside of, more valuable than, and i daresay more meaningful than what i do at work.

haay, senti. friends are wonderful, aren't they?

What a journey it has been

so why do i suddenly feel like i can't wait for it to be over?

yes, this is one of the things i've done for that other thing that i've been yakking about for the past couple of months. this is what i try to achieve in a typical workday. i write a piece of hype, run around trying to get various persons to execute it, then i run around begging to get it approved, and then i smile placidly while another set of various persons poke holes into it/claim it as their own/pretend not to notice.

at least the powers that be liked this one. i did too.

Good riddance...

...3kg! i hope to never see you again!

after nearly four months of boxing (not too religiously, i'm afraid) and wondering why the hell nothing was happening, i stopped eating rice last week. and then 3kg fell off, just like that.

let's hope it stays off until i get to europe. that black wool coat i bought in mango last year is going to look great in my pictures when i can finally close it all the way haha. skinny europe pictures! hurray!

(and no, i'm still not engaged.)

Palpitations

oh. my. f*cking. gawd. this is really happening.

*Rolls up sleeves*

bring my script to life! moooahahaha!

actually doing work can do wonders for the way one feels about... well, work. after an indignant email from my boss and a bit of going back and forth from project manager to boss to client, i'm back on the job i signed up for. i'm a writer again!

i can almost feel little kinks in my brain ("writing muscles"?) flexing, stretching and popping bit by bit. it's slow going at the moment, but it feels great. and pretty soon, i know i will be immersed (or is it obsessed?) with a show again.

the setup on the left is for a series of plugs charlie and i thought up. the interesting thing about it is that the storyboard and the shoot came before the actual lines, which i'm just about to write.

we shot the series last friday in this cavernous warehouse where dust and grease attack you the moment you set foot upon the premises. i went home at 230am with awful eyeluggage, dirty toenails and at least three new zits. but to see this all elaborate rigging, artistas literally bending over backwards to bring an idea -- our idea! -- to life was definitely worth it.

from a vague idea to impromptu instructions shouted by our director, vince ("you're lonely!" "you're suffering!" and my personal favorite, which came out of nowhere, "tell me your story!"), to the extremely goodlooking cast of six whose faces are seared into my little tapes, and now to me. i get to give them their stories; i get to savor the thrill of deciphering their expressions frame by frame, and of choosing words for each of them, and of imagining.

it's times like this when i really, really love my job.

more photos from the shoot, plus our cast pictorial two weeks ago, here. my favorite shots are the ones of i took of philippine cinema's iconic celia rodriguez. i love her!

How to get a cab in Makati

since i haven't worked in the makati cbd for over a year, i totally forgot how it frenetic can get during over there. especially when you're competing with a legion of irate, impatient, makati-fied yuppies for that impossibly elusive prize -- a taxi during rush hour.

absolutely vicious! (and don't even get me started on the taxi drivers themselves.)

the rare weekday trek to makati was on account of a rehearsal for mozart's requiem at union church, which is on rada street in legaspi village. i took the mrt to ayala, then battled it out with the yuppies at the glorietta 4 driveway. timog and environs, with its surfeit of cabs, has spoiled me. hindi ko kinaya ang agawan!

consider this:

a cab drives up to the entrance and is instantly besieged by any number of would-be passengers. a near-scuffle ensues for the passenger-side door handle, with the objective of pulling the door open to blurt out one's destination for the driver's consideration -- all this as the poor passenger inside the cab fumbles for change. the driver either gives a lazy nod or (this i hate) simply pulls away in response, upon which the remaining participants of the scuffle must then chase after the taxi to blurt out their destinations -- fingers crossed for that all-important nod.

vicious! absolutely vicious!

after what seemed like ages and ages of this urban violence, i finally cornered a cab with three other hopefuls. one of my competitors had already wedged the front door open as the passenger in the back seat, an utterly bewildered japanese businessman, fled in terror.

competitor #1: guadalupe!"
cabbie: *waves away competitor #1*
competitor #2: "bf homes!"
me, to myself: asa ka pa!
cabbie: *makes gesture as if preparing to drive off*
me: legaspi village, sa may likod lang ng greenbelt!
cabbie: *hesitates, then nods*

i felt rather pleased with myself as we whizzed off down ayala avenue.

cabbie: pa-south na kasi ako...
me: ah, sa rada street lang naman ako eh.
cabbie: oo nga eh, kaya nga pinili kita kasi malapit. pero --
me: pero kuya, malapit lang naman eh. (attempting winsome tone)
cabbie: oo nga, pero ikaw ang pinili ko kasi bukod sa malapit ka, maganda
ka pa.

kaya mo?

me: ano ka ba, kuya, nambola ka pa!
cabbie: walang bola 'yun ah! may kamukha ka ngang artista, eh.
me: *braces self for inevitable comparison to yasmien kurdi*
cabbie: si natalie portman!

sosyal!

makati... iba ka talaga!

More happy thoughts

being a underutilized copywriter clerk has its benefits. i've been filling in the vacuum in my heart (haha drama) work hours with a whole lot of youtube. more specifically, rekindling my adolescent preoccupation with rumiko takahashi -- which, incidentally, was first kindled by an equally adolescent preoccupation with the guy who introduced me to rumiko takahashi.

and so i've finished a couple of episodes of mermaid forest, all five parts of the mermaid scar oav, and random episodes of my all-time favorite, ranma 1/2. it's been fun reliving the creepiness of mermaids and lost souls, giggling over the wit of ranma and company. i almost forgot how cute and gravelly ranma's (english-dubbed) voice was (kaka-in love!), or how perfect mr. saotome's comic timing was (but only when in panda form).

i used to be obsessed with ranma in high school, drawing the characters all the time, even buying the graphic novel in english for php600 (which was a hefty amount of money to a high schooler in the early 90s!). come to think of it, that wasn't the only thing i did for ranma. i even made pa-cute to this cousin of a classmate of mine who liked me (and who i totally did not like) just so i could borrow his vhs tapes (vhs tapes?!?!?!) of ranma episodes.

after four years of me pimping myself to him for anime, he ended up asking me to his grad ball through his cousin. i went, but the moment he escorted me out of my house, i knew that i was in for the most boring evening of my young life. so i ditched him an hour after we got to the ballroom by pretending to have a really bad headache and asking him to take me home.

yes, i was an evil little girl.

or maybe this ranma provider and the poor ditchee are two different guys and i'm mixing them up. at any rate, i don't have to do evil things like that now that there's youtube! youtube will keep me from sinning!

one episode down, 38 volumes to go! that's a lot of happy thoughts. thank god.

(my favorite ranma character is shampoo, by the way. now that i've read her wikipedia writeup, though, i'm kind of worried as to what that says about me.)

Think happy thoughts!

to combat the effects of the work hazard/s i have just written about, i shall now attempt to distract myself with random happy thoughts.

happy thought #1: marlon has successfully booked us a room in paris! the source of my elation comes just as much from the fact that marlon surfed the web and did the booking also by himself (with some help from my sister's 2004 edition of let's go europe), as it is from the rave reviews of our choice, the hotel montpensier. for a hotel that's practically next door to the louvre, the rates are well within our budget and the rooms aren't too shabby (love the big windows and high ceilings!).

happy thought #2: acs is getting into competition mode! last night's rehearsal had perfect attendance, a herculean feat for a choir composed entirely of working professionals. we dropped scores for the competition pieces (although it took quite a few barbs and nasty glances for the male sections to drop them for real), and began my favorite part of the process -- shaping the music. augh, a month and a half to go until we leave!

happy thought #3: watched the devil wears prada with leo, mimi and eunice on saturday. loved meryl streep, the outfits, the humor -- everything! what i'm totally not loving, though, is how manila's alta de sociedad have been tossing out "lifestyle column" after "lifestyle column" filled with copious delusions that they are the manila version of the new york fashion world so glamorously depicted in the devil wears prada. puh-leeze. can any local fashion/lifestyle columnist/editor really say/believe they "make or break" any careers other than their own?

uh-oh, happy thought leading back to angst.

that's all.

Told you so

i knew i'd say it sooner or later. now i find the time has finally come for me to say it: be careful what you wish for -- it might come true.

turns out i never really "got" that project that i really wanted. somebody, somewhere is still keeping it tightly wrapped in the enormous tentacles of his/her/their leviathan ego. while i sit in my little cubicle meekly waiting for instructions to encode and print out like a good little drone, and generally try to fight off creative atrophy, a sinking morale and work-related depression.

i could probably sum up the whole thing in two words, but i'm having a hard time deciding what the killer combo will be when there are so many contenders. control freak? giant ego? trust issues? glory hog?

i know i should be thankful for a lot of things -- a great cast, fabulous concept, early material, a strong creative direction (understatement of the year). hell, some people would even be thankful for not having to do any brain work at all at this point in the campaign. but that's just not me.

then again, i have a pretty tough job ahead of me -- reminding myself that i'm a copywriter and not a clerk. that, i will need to do full time on this project. at least until the humdrum daily requirements start coming in, which of course will be left to me 'cause they're just too damn low-profile, or since the creative directions have already been set and my miniscule brain can probably be trusted to obediently follow in the brilliant wake of the powers that be.

yes, angst. and this flu ain't helping either.

i'm probably overreacting. this is just one of the hazards of my job (which is still a lovely job), and what's happening to me now has already happened to most everyone on the floor. as pia likes to say, God is fair.

Oh, joy

instead of going boxing today (the trainers were busy with an inter-gym boxing tournament), i did some "maintenance" on myself.

first, a haircut at profiles on katipunan, where i was reminded how much i love my salon and my stylist, jenny. i like the color job azta did on me, but sheila, nice as she was, totally botched up my bangs. i managed to do a bit of repair work on them, but i swore then that nobody but jenny would cut them ever again. i love her, plus she's cheap too. and i tipped the shampoo guy extra to give me a nice long scalp massage with their minty creme rinse. mmmm.

then, off to mama rosa's for the long put-off double tooth extraction. it actually wasn't painful or uncomfortable, but it was rather terrifying.

maybe it was the needle being poked into my mouth in three different places (for anesthesia), or the screwdriver-like tool my dentist used to loosen the offending teeth, or the pliers she used to finally rip them from my gums. not to mention the fact that all these implements of torture seem to scale up to horrendous proportions as they approach your mouth. or maybe it was the loud wrenching sound my teeth made, which seemed horribly deafening. maybe it was because said sound was amplified by bouncing off the walls of my oral cavity.

mama rosa (tugging with pliers): grabe ha, ang tigas ng buto mo.
me: rrrrffff aaaaaaa uhhh ngggggggd iinggg? (is that a good thing? -- because with all the tugging she was doing, i almost wished i still had milk teeth.)

at any rate, it's over, i have two giant (or so it seems) holes in my mouth, and am now two small, ivory-colored steps to catching up to the rest of you evolved homo sapiens. and i have to spend the rest of the evening eating very soft food with an ice pack pressed to my cheek. sana pumayat ako.

me (to mama rosa, who is applying some kind of tool to my displaced tooth): patingin nga.
mama rosa: teka lang ha. aalisin ko muna yung mga nakadikit na bits of your gums.

eeurrrghhh. two down, two to go.

since i can't eat any real food at the moment, i shall enjoy a food meme instead.

Foodie meme

from toni.

How do you like your eggs? I hate eggs. I actually get annoyed whenever I go downstairs in the morning to find that my mom has made me egg sandwiches for breakfast. If I’m to have them at all, they should be scrambled or omeletted.

How do you take your coffee/tea: Two sugars, one cream. Preferably brewed, but I usually make do with Great Taste Sugar Free 3-in-1. I’ve given up on the industrial sludge Nescafe tries to pass off as coffee. I miss Indian coffee.

Favorite breakfast foods: At home -- two slices of bread with butter, peanut butter or Nutella (if we have it). Coffee or hot chocolate if I have time, water if I’m running late. At the office – coffee and a banana or mango.

Peanut butter: smooth or crunchy? Smooth.

What kind of dressing on your salad? Vinaigrette in any of its tasty variations (I love the poppyseed vinaigrette from Goolai)

Coke or Pepsi? Coke.

You’re feeling lazy. What do you make? Lucky Me Pancit Canton, chilimansi. Buttered toast.

You’re feeling really lazy. What kind of pizza do you order? Yellow Cab Four Seasons or plain pepperoni. I went through a very long Pizza Hut thick-crust, ham and cheese phase as a pre-teen. I can still see the effects on my thighs.

You feel like cooking. What do you make? Why on earth would I feel like cooking?

Do any foods bring back good memories? Bruschetta brings back wonderful memories of my mom’s Italian business partner, Joseph. We’d make them at home, in the oven toaster, to use up leftover sauce from his fantabulous pasta dishes. When I took to bringing bruschetta to school for lunch, he would sometimes insist on bringing a Tupperware of freshly made bruschetta to school at lunchtime so that I (and my classmates) could have it hot. (He did the same for his fluffy Spanish omelette.) I thought that was really sweet.

Canapes de jamon at Dulcinea, as well as bibingka at Via Mare, always calls to mind weekends at the old Greenbelt (when there was just one of them) with my family. Spaghetti Bolognese, of family lunches at the old Café Elysee in SM. Yes, SM!

And pesto, of my first date with Marlon. Because, silly me, I ordered pesto on a date. And he never told me I had embarrassing green bits stuck in between my teeth, but still kept asking me out. The rest, as they say, is history.

Do any foods bring back bad memories? None that I can think of.

Do any foods remind you of someone? Red meat (particularly liempo) reminds me of my sister, the carnivore. Squash seeds too. Corned beef reminds me of Marlon. Vanilla ice cream reminds me of Dima. Friday’s food reminds me of my ex. Cucumber, of Patrick (my mom’s ex-fiance’s youngest son).

Is there a food you refuse to eat? Ay ang dami. Bopis, bulalo, lychee, lanzones, rambutan, chico, santol, liempo, okra, ampalaya. Foods with overly fleshy/fatty textures make me feel like barfing.

What was your favorite food as a child? Spam with ketchup and rice (which I still love). Spaghetti Bolognese.

Is there a food that you hated as a child but now love? Leche flan. I have no idea why I hated this as a kid, but I’m making up for all the lost years. And strawberry jam – the strawberry bits/seeds used to gross me out, and I once tried picking all of them out.

Is there a food that you loved as a child but now hate? Nope.

Favorite fruit & vegetable: Mangoes and bananas. Brocolli, baby corn, carrots and peas.

Favorite junk food: Cracklings Salt and Vinegar. Doritos and its poor relation, Tostitos. Boy Bawang and Kettle Corn, which I can only get at the office co-op. Rebisco Chocolate Crunchies and Choco Sandwich. Pucha ang dami ah.

Favorite between meal snack: All of the above. In times of desperation, I dip into my stash of ketchup from McDonald’s.

Do you have any weird food habits: I can’t mix food – if I have several items on my plate, I’ll finish one before I move on to the next (this also applies to fast food meals – the fries go first.) I cut food into even slices and geometric shapes. I was horrified the first time I shared a slice of cake with Marlon and he forked it up with the tip of the fork instead of slicing a piece away neatly with the side of the fork. I dip fries into ketchup two at a time; if it’s a long one, I fold it into two. I snack on uncooked Lucky Me noodles.

You’re on a diet. What food(s) do you fill up on? Carrots, broccoli, cauliflower. Plain nuts. Brown rice. Fruits.

How spicy do you order Indian/Thai? I don’t specify spiciness. I take it as it’s served.

Can I get you a drink? One Cerveza Negra, please. Then something creamy like Baileys, or any drink with Baileys in it. Or maybe something girly, like a frozen Strawberry Margarita.

Red wine or white? Red, most of the time.

We only have beer: Isang Negra nga diyan. Pero kung wala, isang San Mig Light.

Favorite dessert? Something rich and chocolatey, or chewy, bite-your-tongue lemony.

The perfect nightcap? Dark chocolate in bed while reading a book.

Jun-jun update

warning: kabakyaan moment fast approaching!

last year's campaign to return primetime tv to the jun-juns has gone splendidly. i'm happy to report that jun-jun will make his primetime tv debut in the next few weeks.

and from my initial, furtive survey of the promo pics, somebody has been doing his pushups very faithfully. somebody who is at his jun-jun hottest. -er na -er ang dating!

o ano, jd? pwede na ba siyang i-cast sa movie adaptation ng obra maestrang, "ang pinakaguwapong magbabalut sa balat ng lupa"? vannessa would be so proud!

incidentally, he will be paired onscreen with the starlet whom i supposedly resemble. yay! so maiisip niya ako palagi!

okay, moment of kabakyaan over.

update (update on an update -- meta-update?): saw jun-jun in the caf last night! exchanged quick hellos and sailed right on. right before i stepped out the door, he called, "yasmien!" (yes, abovementioned starlet.) sabi na nga ba eh! maiisip niya na ako palagi! yay!

oh, and incidentally -- minor celeb also known as creepy thin man (remember him?) co-stars in jun-jun's primetime gig. 'twas bound to happen sooner or later. small world, this.

Out of juice

there's a crapload of things i both need and want to do -- from work to a first-time raket to blogging -- all involving writing. and i can't bring myself to do any of them.

i've been sitting at my desk for about an hour, trying to whip myself into picking up any one of the writing tasks at hand . i even tried the "ditch it" method of creative stimulation and went downstairs to play a crazed movie fan for a colleague's shoot.

it's just not happening. instead of scripts, cohesive blog posts and lifestyle articles, all i managed to scratch out is this procrastinatory brainfart.

--

looks like a short-lived victory for barcelona in the travel bug contest. there are some new contenders, and they're looking pretty strong: seville, cordoba and granada.

--

i am sooo out of it. someone plug endorphins into me, please.

i feel about as dead as that butterfly splattered on the boardwalk up there. o diba? kahit patay, maganda pa rin.

Merienda at Tiffany's

on my most recent weekend jaunt to singapore, marlon looked me in the eyes, took a deep breath and popped a question.

"would it be totally unromantic if i asked you to go to a jewelry store with me so i can finally find out what your ring size is?"

(bestill your beating hearts -- it's a question, not the question. but this tells me that the question will be hurtling my way very soon.)

so saturday morning before hieing off to sentosa, we dropped by one of singapore's ubiquitous lee hwa jewelry stores.

how in-your-face jewelry stores are was one of the things that first struck me as bizarre about singapore. the same two or three jewelry stores that are practically on every corner of every mall also paper the city with ads, promos and big screaming "sale" signs. they even do tv commercials, which tells me that singaporean tv is just swimming in what is probably relatively cheap airtime. but i could be wrong.

anyway, the ring size question was quickly taken care of (i'm an 8), and we proceeded to peruse the rocks. it was really quite sweet to see how marlon has transformed into something of a walking diamond encyclopedia -- he did most of the talking while the store personnel just stood there and served us tea. he could even name the color grade and carat before the salesperson turned over the little tags attached to each ring. nerds -- you gotta love them. :-)

we also stopped by the window display of larry jewelry, which sounds like it sells puwit ng baso but is actually a swanky hong kong jeweler which deals in nothing but major ice. obviously, hanggang store window lang talaga kami.

engagement ring mecca

then, after a long humid afternoon in sentosa, marlon indulged my curiosity about the mecca of engagement rings -- tiffany's. i expected to feel awed as we made our way up the plush carpeted steps of tiffany's at takashimaya, but instead i just felt very young and scruffy.

i was also subconsciously bracing for some sort of discrimination, since marlon and i obviously don't look like your typical tiffany's customer (make that young, scruffy and filipino), but i was pleasantly surprised. the young, spike-haired sales representative gave us the smiliest and most gracious service i've ever had from a singaporean as he brought out ring after ring for me to try.

i must say, them tiffany rings seem to be worth every pretty penny. one of my hugest fears is that clumsy me will knock the diamond out somehow (especially when i think of those rings where the diamond sticks out from your finger). but tiffany has these settings that are not only gorgeous but feel almost industrial in their security.

size doesn't matter

okay, i know carat size is the name of the game, but as a edsa-plying pinay urbanite trying on diamonds for the first time, i realized something important. i don't want to wear anything that will get my throat slit or my finger slashed off when i'm commuting home from work. so marlon is lucky to have a girlfriend who is literally deathly terrified of anything over 0.7 carats -- and even 0.7 is walking the edge.

but the rings were lovely. so much so that in spite of all my jewelry-related hangups (knocking out the diamond, getting mugged) i couldn't help sighing as i slipped on the tiffany legacy ring (pictured above). "ang ganda," i marveled.

our young sales rep brightened. "yes," he nodded, "maganda!" and i felt, even as i stood in my ukay-ukay top, free levi's (yes, i won them at an event) and landmark slippers in one of singapore's plushest stores, that i was young and girlish and, yes, maganda -- and on the brink of something as delicious and sparkling as tiffany's finest ice.

"bye-bye! salamat!" he called with a cheery wave as marlon and i walked out the glass doors.

i can't wait.

Rrrarr

random procrastination from jeline, to fill the space while i'm off wrestling with work.

got lots to write about, lots of new pictures, but even more to do at the office. gotta tiptoe around everyone's sensitivities while attempting to blow them away. ah, the travails of putting another long-running show to eternal rest.

rrrrar.

Big dad Wolff

you'll never guess who emailed me about my cellulite display.

August 3

Thank you for another insight into my son's lifestyle.

My son is not a lalaki talaga... just a boy... only recently twenty-one and Keena is old enough to be his mother but I can assure you she is not!! I have a little more
taste and am not so keen on silicon in my sandwich.

My son left a top university here in the UK to be with *one of his exes*, after he met her on his gap year so I am not amused by my son's current career. He has a fine brain and it is being wasted in Manila.

Thanks for the amusing tale.

*Big Dad* Wolff (UK and Cebu)

grabe mga mare, nawindang ako doon. pero sumagot pa rin ako.

August 3

Dear *Big Dad*,

Gee. Is it really you?

If it is, I'm happy to have entertained you. How many fathers nowadays Google their kids? I'm slightly embarrassed though -- I may have been a bit too candid in my
appraisal of your son's fine... brains. But then such are the hazards of blogging.

So he's cute and smart, but as you say, a little addlepated in the decision-making department? I guess God is fair. LOL. Or chalk it up to youth.

At any rate, thanks for your email! It was a little bit out of the Twilight Zone to get an email from someone's father, but it was very nice of you to have written. It's good to know though that we non-siliconed women have our share of champions as well.

Be a good dad now.

*Currystrumpet*

o diba ang saya? big dad sent me a way longer and chattier reply which i won't print here. but now i think i know more about andrew wolff now than i ever did. i can now write a tell-all brochure. (wala pa sa level ng tell-all book.)

i say, if you can't make friends with a hunk, chat up his parents instead. haha.

thanks for your emails, big dad wolff! they were nice. surreal, but nice. keep on reading. :-)

'Tis the season

ano ba?!?!??!?! bakit ba ang dami-daming SALE? kung kelan pa nagtitipid ako! mango, zara, debenhams, terranova and powerbooks!

i've been making a sisyphean effort to watch my spending lately. it's only a little over two months (and six paychecks) to europe, and scrimping for pocket money starts now. with sales beckoning left and right, though, it's so easy to spend on things that i "need" for the trip, like a roomy messenger bag, low-heeled boots, sweaters and a warm hat. (the other things are not quite so exciting to shop for: thermal undies and a rechargeable battery for my camera.)

but i try to remind myself that every early-evening cab or late-afternoon snack over here will cost me a museum ticket in paris or a fabulous pair of shoes in barcelona.

haay. tipidity na ito!

Boy meets thigh

i was my butt was my thighs were the cellulite on the back of my thighs was introduced to andrew wolff at the gym awhile ago.

it was one of the more, shall we say, undignified introductions i have ever had the misfortune to experience. to keep the mortification at bay, i shall force myself to think of it as that all-purpose palliative -- a learning experience.

so this is what i learned.

lesson # 1: shorts from the '80s should remain in the '80s.

two straight weeks of no sunshine = no laundry out to dry

no laundry = dwindling pool of clothes (gym clothes dwindle particularly quickly)

no more gym clothes = mom's pink nike pekpek shorts from the '80s

and when i say pekpek, i mean pekpek. i was actually extra fidgety wearing them around the boxing trainers, but i pek-peked pooh-poohed my discomfort away by reasoning that i'd worn them at least once before, and who cares about scruffy old ex-boxers anyway?

so i thought (almost) nothing of agreeing to a pre-workout stretching session with my trainer, jeff. i love getting stretched -- you just lie there like a log while they do all this physical therapy stuff. i was lying on my belly, face flat on the floor, shorts riding up my (thunder) thighs when one of the other trainers exclaimed, "oy! si andrew wolff!" the other trainers chorused, "pare! andrew! kamusta na?" as a very, very large shadow slowly loomed over me.

crap.

at least, i reasoned as male chitchat ensued, jeff will have the good sense not to introduce me while i'm lying here like a tub of giniling.

lesson # 2: men are dense.

i gave all the non-verbal clues i could in such a position. i kept my face turned away. i clipped my arms tightly to my sides. i clamped my thighs to prevent further riding up of said shorts. i may even have given a warning wiggle or fidget. all to no avail.

"siya nga pala, andrew, papakilala ko sa 'yo si deepa. tiga-gma din siya. deepa, si andrew."

he could have just said, "siya nga pala andrew, hita ni deepa."

i have never taken so long to turn my head in my life. i would rather he have met my toes (they're nice and slim) or my split ends (i have none).

but there was no escaping it. i turned my head. with what dignity i could muster with my face purple and pressed to the floor and my thighs staring him in the face, i smiled and said hi.

lesson # 3: when in doubt, hide.

quicker than you can say "cellulite cream", i whipped my head back and away from him, and cringed. i mean, i'm not a fan, but i didn't want a fine specimen like him to associate my face with those thighs, resplendent with niknik bites and bedimpled with cellulite. (come to think of it, i literally dimpled at him.)

god forbid i ever, ever bump into him again, and my face be replaced in a split second in his memory by quivering, white, jiggly thighs. as we took our places in the ring, i worked extra hard to make my punches as strong as humanly possible, so that he could at least have something else to associate with me. "you're the girl with the kick-ass punches" sounds way better than "you're the girl with the, uh, ass."

lesson # 4: when able, ogle.
(or, select types of men are entitled to as much silicone as they please)

as i said, i'm not a fan. after seeing him in person, i find him a bit of a calamari (as defined by j). but you don't have to be a fan of someone to ogle, right? you can just be a fan of the male species in general? because, as i also said earlier, he is quite a fine specimen. one that boxes shirtless, and wears the biggest size glove, at that.

jeff and i made chismis while said specimen was off crunching granola. "ang laki ng katawan ano? naging girlfriend n'yan si ethel, tapos si gwen," jeff said conspiratorially. "ngayon naman si keanna. dala n'ya nga dito kahapon eh."

hmm. the man does like his silicone, innit? but then, i figured as i ogled all through his ab workout, any man who can bounce a medicine ball off his abs (even the obliques!) can have as much silicone as he damn well pleases.

see? i am so much smarter now.

One

one ring to rule them all

yep, the header is new. and it's still part of my green and pink sari theme. the ring was one of the many components of the outfit that inspired the (not so) new look of this blog.

i love this ring -- more so since it's usually so hard for me to find one that's small enough for my fingers. now if only i could remember where i put it...

one hour... just one

aside from the usual idle hankerings for clothes, shoes, books (money, power, fame) and whatnot, i've found myself wishing for just one extra hour each day. i don't know how it would work (would it be a 25-hour day for everyone or just for me? could i stick the extra hour wherever i wanted? do i just want the extra hour to apply on workdays?), but it's been a nice fantasy.

if i had an extra hour a day, i would...

do yoga. uncle sujit gave me a slim volume about yoga, and i've been bumbling my way through it on and off since january. i just about gave it up since i started boxing, which i am beginning to believe was the beginning of the end of what little flexibility i'd previously achieved. i managed to call it an early worknight on monday, and it felt great to do a full forty-five minutes of yoga when i got home. wish i could do it more often.

box more often (or longer). i don't have the time to box every day (three times a week at most, and never consecutively), and i often have to dash back to work. i find myself wishing for that extra hour when i'm trying to squeeze into a pair of jeans that fit me only days ago.

be more conscientious with singing. vocalize more often, and practice more pieces for acs' imminent takeover of europe (sana). more often than i'm happy about, i have to content myself with putting on my study mp3s as background music while i work, and hope that i learn them by osmosis.

write. not for tv. tv can stuff it. that one extra hour would be for me, and me alone.

sleep more. i intentionally set my alarm earlier than necessary just so i enjoy the exquisite pleasure of hitting the snooze button and going back to sleep. my idea of bliss is getting to hit "snooze" at least five times and not have to wildly rampage through the rest of my morning rituals just to make up for it. this cold snap is making me crave that extra hour of sleep even more.

what would you do with an extra hour in your day?

More threes

from toni. because it’s a monday, it’s rainy outside, and i feel like procrastinating. (i’m editing out the ones that are giving me meme-vu.)

three people who make me laugh: my corny boyfriend. chris ong. rufa mae.

three things i love: sleeping. dark chocolate. ukay-ukay.

three things i hate: people who can’t keep their voices down in small, enclosed public spaces (like buses and elevators). bopis. food with fatty textures, like lychee and yes, fat.

three things on my desk (at work): “spunk & bite: a writer’s guide to punchier, more 'engaging language & style.” a marilyn monroe mug someone gave me in fifth grade. matrioshka dolls from prague.

three things i’m doing right now: procrastinating. typing. blinking.

three things i want to do before i die: go to a really fancy dress-up event and be gawked at and photographed. own a diamond and south sea pearls. learn to cook.

three things i can do: write. sing. pick up things with my toes.

three ways to describe my personality: game. suplada. multifaceted (haha, cop-out).

three things people might not know about me: i always pick something by madonna on videoke nights. i cut my eyelashes as a kid. i once wanted to be a fashion designer.

three things i think you should listen to: the ateneo chamber singers. (shameless plug). the amazing rina. apocalyptica.

three things i don’t think you should listen to ever: people who tell who you just how you should dress. and those who tell you that you can't do something (ala lavinia of bituing walang ningning fame -- "you'll ne-he-vehrrr make it..."). oh, and sleazebags who say things like "don't worry, i won't put it in." haha.

three of my absolute favorite foods: godiva truffles/ritter sport praline (make that chocolate, period). microwave-melted queso de bola, as introduced to me by justine in college. spam with ketchup and rice.

three things i’d like to learn: thai and indian cooking. how to get a job at discovery. photography.

three beverages i drink regularly: water. coffee. c2 apple iced tea.

three shows i watched when i was a child: perfect strangers. the charmings. silverhawks.

three people i tag to do this meme: you, you, and you. both of you!