Thursday, June 14

Hello Bolly!

i'm in bollywood! *smiling, color-coordinated dancers jazz-walk into frame*

the city formerly known as bombay has been my temporary home for three days running. while marlon is off doing various business-y things, i've found myself -- hmm, ano nga ba? alone but not lonely. each day has its highs and lows, but oddly even the lows occur to me as highlights.

day 1, tuesday

we land in mumbai after a four-hour flight from india. ever had waves heat pound at glass windows to get to you? walk from plane to immigration at the mumbai airport and you will. stepped outside and had the novel experience of having my jeans "shwup", a sensation akin to vacuum-packing, to my lower legs. verified that the "twenty-nine degrees centigrade" temperature announced by the captain upon touchdown was off by about, oh, just ten degrees.

fell in love (with a resounding ka-blag) with our hotel, the itc maratha sheraton. oh god, this hotel. i want to take everything in our room home with me. there are beautiful indian dupion silk drapes (in my wedding motif colors! let me at 'em!) and delicious aromatherapy toiletries in apple, apricot, basil, parsley and sandalwood. (naka-shook na ako ng isang buong set for my mom.) there's a pillow menu (!) and 100Mbps Internet.

and when you step out of your room, it's just beautiful. it's a light-filled white atrium, with latticed windows that remind me of the alhambra, stretching all the way to the ceiling.

our first lunch in this hotel convinced me that i will have to be rolled back to my family. i love indian food to bits (now making up for all the years that i fiercely resisted it as a child), and this hotel reportedly has some of the best restaurants in mumbai. god help me. ang traje de boda!

bits and bites

marlon and i spent the rest of the day immersed in work, albeit separately -- him at the office, me at the hotel. nawili ako masyado sa bilis ng internet at sa ganda ng kuwarto -- i did not set foot outside the room for the next six hours. pathetic, i know.

after welcoming home my sweaty, dusty, mumbai-encrusted fiance, we set off for a group dinner with the twenty or so p&g global folk who'd flown in for the week. it had all the makings of a great dinner -- first was the superb food that seemed to never stop getting plunked down on my plate.

then there was ridiculously excellent service -- one waiter dashed to my side after i took a bite of fish, murmuring "madam, you have ordered the vegetarian meal. but i just saw you take a bite of the fish. i am sorry for not informing you that it indeed was fish that i put on your plate. are you alright?" my gawd! i bit back the urge to tell him that i was just a vegetarian poseur.

there were extremely interesting people, of which my favorite was dr. colin, scientist-turned-beauty p.r. director. forget chi-chi fakeness and empty smiles -- this guy is a genius on so many levels, without that "i-know-more-than-you" aura, and so much fun to talk to! feeling ko parang tumalino ako pagkatapos ko siyang nakausap. haay idol ko na siya.

discovery channel

what i loved most about dinner was stepping into marlon's world. at one point in the evening, i just stopped and took in everything around me -- being in mumbai, the gorgeous surroundings, the intelligent conversation -- and realized, marlon's part of this. i just sat with that for a while, letting a whole new world open up: a world of him. suddenly, the man who cuddles with me at movies, loves corned beef and comics, and who i regularly "save" when he blanks out on people's names took on a whole new dimension. at that dinner table, on that night, i discovered marlon all over again. that alone was worth coming here for.

back in the room that night, talking to marlon about what i had done for the day and what i had planned for the next, i uncovered something rather prickly about myself.

why i hadn't stepped out at all was not because of the amount of work i had or the comfort of the room.

and why i wasn't at all excited about flinging myself out into mumbai was not, in fact, because of anything about mumbai.

(to be continued)

Monday, June 11

The Blogger ban

hello, my friends. the good news is, i'm alive and happy. i'm in lah-lah land with marlon celebrating our fourth, and our last, anniversary as boyfriend and girlfriend. tomorrow, the two of us will be flying to mumbai -- marlon on a business trip, and i as official palamuti.

the bad news is, blogger, and consequently all blogs, have been banned from the office.

haay.

i'm not giving up my blog just yet, but as the office is where i do 90% of my blogging, the frequency of my updates will be seriously affected (as you've gathered from my month of internet hibernation). i miss reading my friends' blogs (that's YOU! or those of you who are on blogger anyway), and especially miss the inspiration and eye candy on one of my favorites, design*sponge.

i'm not too happy about the prospect of migrating to wordpress or livejournal though -- i have a wordpress version of this blog that i gave up after a couple of days of working on it. plus there's just way too much on this blog to give up!

must admit i am stuck at the moment. stuck but still writing :-)

Tuesday, May 15

Welcome to Boracay

after an hour-long flight in an aircon-less, stewardess-less aircraft that i will always cherish in my memory as the "coaster na may pakpak", i barely remember my first glimpse of the fabled white sands of boracay. i think i might have been a little underwhelmed -- the sun was hiding behind thick gray clouds, dulling the colors of everything.

what i do remember vividly, is almost weeping upon seeing the room that would me mine (mine, all mine! moooahahahaha) for the next two days. ah, how the centavo-scrabbling writer of "paradise at a steal" had moved up in the world! first i wanted to twirl around and fall into bed a la julia roberts. then i started really missing marlon. *insert crude thought here*

welcome sight # 1: my room at the boracay beach resort.

home sweet home

the people from fila (i swear! grace under pressure ang mga ito!) treated me and paolo, the photog, to lunch. i believe the frozen lemonade i had at the regency set the tone for the rest of my boracay trips -- i went on this two-week long citrus frenzy which included countless calamansi/lemon/mango-lemon shakes, calamansi muffins at real coffee, and the aforementioned lemon cheesecake at lemon cafe.

then we went to work. or rather, paolo went to work.

while i pretty much watched, chatted, looked over some of the clothes, and ogled various boys pointed out to me by a woman more than twice my age and in better shape than me. i played photographer, too.

welcome sight # 2: teams practicing for the dragonboat races that weekend.


score one for the hype.

this is when boracay really started wowing me. i'd never seen the ocean that soft, pearlescent almost-white shade of turquoise before. and the sand was just absolute talc.

my first pair of havaianas. i totally get the addiction now -- which is not to say that i actually have an addiction of my own

and presenting the finest welcome of them all: the obliging male-models-for-a-day of the bugsay boracay dragonboat team.

welcome sight # 3: care ko sa girls?

work it! work it!

aside from daniel and sebastian here with their prepare-for-glowy midsections, there were also various groups of men around me at this point flexing muscles, lifting heavy weaponry (isn't the dragonboat a war vessel or something) and going "harrumph harrumph!" (or "awoo awoo!" as jeline would say). it was all very 300.

i remember marveling at all these extremely fit and tanned specimens (in fairness, pati ang mga girls) and wondering briefly whether this was what God had intended human beings to be. i felt almost sure that beer bellies and thunder thighs were not part of the divine plan.

then it was five thirty, "work" was done, and i was left to enjoy my first boracay happy hour -- and my first boracay sunset.

Thursday, May 10

My life in weekends

last weekend, i watched one of my dearest high school friends marry the love of her life in a beautiful, intimate, all-white sunset wedding in one of boracay's most exclusive resorts. the night before, i'd gone night swimming in the ocean (totally piss drunk) for the very first time. i spent zero on accommodations, and even less on food. my biggest splurge was a lemon cheesecake at lemon cafe.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

the weekend before that, i flew to boracay for the very first time in my life on an all-expense paid writing job for the star. my travel time to boracay -- about 2.5 hours back and forth -- was probably longer than the time i spent actually working, if you call chit-chatting, watching a photographer and ogling buff dragonboat rowers working. i stayed three days.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

and this weekend, i am flying with the love of my life, and a handful of my fabulous officemates, to spend the weekend swimming with the world's biggest living species of fish -- the whale sharks of donsol, sorsogon.

i am darker than i've ever been. ever! well maybe since grade school when we went to the beach practically every weekend, and we had a pool in the backyard. this is the first summer in a long, long, looong time that i've actually had a tan.

so in short, life is good.

---

there were times these past few weeks that i just stopped and said to myself -- wow. i have a life that allows wonderful things like these to happen. this is my life.

i never thought it could be this good. i have a life that allows wonderful things like these to happen. i would have said even the in-betweens -- but i just realized there are none.

and instead of waiting for the proverbial anvil to drop out of nowhere, i'm looking up and seeing nothing -- absolutely nothing -- overhead. just a brilliantly blue summer sky.

it's my life, all of it -- and i'm loving every minute.

oh. and i promise to blog about and post pictures of these weekends. they were just too good not to share in detail. :-)

Tuesday, May 8

Make way for the king (3)

this is the last post of its kind. i promise. it's just that -- that -- *collapses into trembling, frothing puddle of fanhood*

hindi ba pag closeup mukha siyang totoong tao????



okay. now back to the rest of my life. ;-)

Tuesday, April 17

Make way for the king (2)

now, now, what have we here?


i actually smelled him as i lifted him out of the box. oh, the depths of depravity.

Monday, April 16

Make way for the king

he is now enthroned in his own little kingdom, ebony wood under his slim, black-shod feet and a light beaming on his tawny-colored head. it isn't the labyrinth, it isn't escher, but for now, it's the only dominion he can ever have.

he has a new slave too, who ran around the entire morning like a panting, lost puppy rearranging everything for his arrival, and whose heart almost stopped when his crystal orb fell from his gracefully posed little fingers to the floor thrice.

the kingdom is my desk, the slave is me, and jareth the goblin king rules. literally.

to be continued (with pictures!)

Friday, April 13

You remind me of a babe

babe with a power!


i got an email from my boss today with the subject heading: "my next new toy". this photo of the jareth figure from neca was attached.

you could say i've waited twenty years for this.

i don't remember this cape from the movie, pero di bale na -- the pointy, flipped-up leather collar (which i do clearly recall) and the distinctive 'do is more than enough to inspire all-consuming lust.

now if they came out with a figure of david bowie as he appears in his final scene in labyrinth, i would not stop going ape freaking sh*t until i had it in my hands. that flowing cape with the owl feathers and distressed floaty hems. that deep v-necked puffy shirt. those white tights. aaaggggh.

"just fear me, love me, do as i say, and i will be your slave."

oh YEAH.

Future furbies

this was taken last weekend at bellini's, a cool if somewhat showy jazz bar at st. james power station, singapore, where i discovered the sweet fizzy goodness of bellinis. i had two that night and they were lovely.

i look at this picture and all i think is: what big eyes our children are going to have.

big eyes. round. cuddly. and possibly quite furry. that's why marlon and i call them furbies -- our future kids, i mean.

ok mushy overshare. let me step back a second and protect my shoes from being splashed by your collective vomit. ;-)

Tuesday, April 10

Looks familiar

i have recently crawled out from under my rock and discovered heroes. i have lots to say about it, but at the moment all i really want to say is this.

i love nathan petrelli/adrian pasdar. the slash is their because his/their gorgeousness renders me unable to separate the two at the moment. maybe someday.

way back as a boy-crazy little girl, i also used to love adrian pasdar . i saw him in solarbabies (just like labyrinth, you'll never know what kitschy eighties movies will stick with you) and never forgot him. so much so that when i saw his name in the opening credits of heroes, my heart skipped a beat. then i started really liking the character of nathan petrelli, and put two and two together with some help from imdb.

at eto pa. i also used to be in love with someone who bears a disturbing resemblance to adrian pasdar.

separated at birth? sorry, i have no better scanned photos of this man

this fact just hit me over the weekend, stunning me into spending a good twenty minutes or so of my sunday sitting in a wave pool at a water park in pasir ris (yes that's in singapore), blabbing about my imagined past with this man to marlon. (who by the way is so wonderful and loving that he readily validated said imagined past.)

parang gusto kong manood ng top gun. but wait i gotta finish off episodes 13 to 18 first! argh adik adik adik!

running home now. bye bye!

Tuesday, April 3

Walastik

so this is what i've been up to lately.




for something i thought was my waterloo (comedy), approvals for stuff i've been working on for this account have been really, really, BIZARRELY easy.

fun fun fun.

Holy

something for the holy week.

detail from la sagrada familia in barcelona, taken last november


the moment i zoomed in on this detail with my lens, six years of choral singing took over my brain in a nanosecond. and suddenly all i could hear in my head was

sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus sanctus

you'll only really get it if you're a choral nerd.

but hahahahaha. ohmygad. a tower wrapped in sanctuses! at boses pa ni chris ong yung naririnig ko! kaloka.

ehem. anyway. the point of this picture is, "sanctus" means holy.

---

i'm spending the "holy" part of holy week (maundy thursday and onward) in singapore, as i did last year. what's different this time around is that marlon and i have committed to attending easter sunday mass together.

"let's have a celebratory weekend," marlon said to me last night.

"we always do," i replied.

"i know," he said. after a beat -- "let's go to mass on sunday."

"okay," i said. "let's."

if easter is a celebration of freedom, then there really is a lot to celebrate.

---

a couple more pictures of la sagrada familia that i really like. i realize just now that i love the ones with the sky in them because i'm reminded of what a beautiful day it was -- reportedly highly atypical for autumn in europe, i was told, which didn't really mean anything to me at the time. for me it was simply sparkling and bright, deliciously sunny, and warm.


update: grabe. sa dami pala ng mga piniktyuran kong simbahan on tour, i could post a different church picture on my blog every day this holy week.

hmmm. visita iglesia on the blogosphere. why not?

Friday, March 30

Meet the kiddies


from left to right: me, gids, pia, leo, maggie and jonel. m.i.a.: tor (off being a fashionista in nueva york), mimoy (off being a fledgling opera singer in indiana) and loi (off being an aspiring music student/auditionee at time of photo).

a brief history of the kiddies: we were the youngest members of the glee club when it spun off into being the acs; some of us had just stepped up from being trainees. as the tendres (late-thirties and above) and the semi-tendres (mid-twenties and above) seemed to naturally aggregate in and out of our little sphere of choral music, so did we. i don't remember who started calling us "kiddies" (short for "glee club kiddies" or "acs kiddies) , but it kind of fit, since we -- and others -- would always see ourselves as the kids of the group.

the kiddies are the friends i thought i had. until recently, when i had the great pleasure of rediscovering that they are the friends i really do have. i won't expect that to make sense, but that's what it is.

these photos were taken at our march kiddie dinner in north park -- the first of the monthly kiddie gatherings that i'd ever been to. we had another one just last week at maggie's house, when loi got back, where we sated ourselves with pizza, loi's lomi, banana walnut praline cake from roshan samtani (incidentally maggie's neighbor), pugon, red iced tea, and wonderful company.


landmark ladies: me, gids and pia

bisayas + papista: leo, mags and jonel

over lomi that night, pia declared: "i love being with you guys! i'm so lucky to have you!"

i didn't say it then, but i agree with her. i guess these these photos are like a delayed outburst of my own.

i'm the first among the kiddies to move into a world that's not so kiddie-like: away from the world of school and first jobs into marriage and the eventual family of my own. but i take immense joy in the knowledge that part of me, the part that loves these guys and fully enjoys the friendship we share, will always, always be a kiddie.

Name game

with a name like mine, this is far from the only entry i can post about my name. but anyway i nicked this from jeline.

so does my name really mean anything?

You entered: Deepa Catherine Arevalo Paul
There are 25 letters in your name.
Those 25 letters total to 112.
There are 13 vowels and 12 consonants in your name.

Your number is: 4
The characteristics of #4 are
: A foundation, order, service, struggle against limits, steady growth.
The expression or destiny for #4:
Order, service, and management are the cornerstones of the number 4 Expression. Your destiny is to express wonderful organization skills with your ever practical, down-to-earth approach. (Hmmm. So far this doesn't sound a lot like me.) You are the kind of person who is always willing to work those long, hard hours to push a project through to completion. A patience with detail allows you to become expert in fields such as building, engineering, and all forms of craftsmanship. Your abilities to write and teach may lean toward the more technical and detailed. In the arts, music will likely be your choice. Artistic talents may also appear in such fields as horiculture and floral arrangement, as well. (Maybe I should take up Celia's invitation to join her ikebana group.) Many skilled physicians and especially surgeons have the 4 Expression.

The positive attitudes of the 4 Expression yield responsibility; you are one who no doubt, fulfills obligations, and is highly systematic and orderly. You are serious and sincere, honest and faithful. It is your role to help and you are required to do a good job at everything you undertake.

If there is too much 4 energies present in your makeup, you may express some of the negative attitudes of the number 4. The obligations that you face may tend to create frustration and feelings of limitation or restriction. (Jackpot!) You may sometimes find yourself nursing negative attitudes in this regard and these can keep you in a rather low mood. Avoid becoming too rigid, stubborn, dogmatic, and fixed in your opinions. You may have a tendency to develop and hold very strong likes and dislikes, and some of these may border on the classification of prejudice. The negative side of 4 often produces dominant and bossy individuals who use disciplinarian to an excess. These tendencies must be avoided. Finally, like nearly all with 4 Expression, you must keep your eye on the big picture and not get overly wrapped up in detail and routine.

Your Soul Urge number is: 3
A Soul Urge number of 3 means:
With the Soul Urge number 3 your desire in life is personal expression, and generally enjoying life to its fullest. You want to participate in an active social life and enjoy a large circle of friends. You want to be in the limelight, expressing your artistic or intellectual talents. Word skills may be your thing; speaking, writing, acting, singing. In a positive sense, the 3 energy is friendly, outgoing and always very social.

You have a decidedly upbeat attitude that is rarely discouraged; a good mental and emotional balance.

The 3 Soul Urge gives intuitive insight, thus, very high creative and inspirational tendencies. The truly outstanding trait shown by the 3 Soul Urge is that of self-expression, regardless of the field of endeavor.

On the negative side, you may at times become too easygoing and too optimistic, tending to scatter forces and accomplish very little. Often, the excessive 3 energy produces non-stop talkers. (Hmmm. Na-conscious tuloy ako.) Everyone has faults, but the 3 soul urge doesn't appreciate having these pointed out.

Your Inner Dream number is: 1
An Inner Dream number of 1 means:
You dream of being a leader and one who is in charge. You want to be known for your courage, daring, and original ideas. You seek unconquered heights. People may get a first impression that you are very aggressive and sure of yourself.

Noooneeenooo

from gatchie

FOUR JOBS I HAVE HAD
1. speechwriter
2. miss saigon audition facilitator
3. freelance copywriter
4. resume writer

FOUR MOVIES I HAVE WATCHED OVER AND OVER
1. labyrinth
2. the princess bride
3. the sound of music
4. terminator 2: judgment day

FOUR PLACES I HAVE LIVED:
1. bel-air
2. dasmariñas village
3. forbes park (on a street called flame tree road -- diba pwedeng pang-tv series?)
4. palm village (GROWING UP IN MAKATI ROCKS! I LOVE MAKATI!)

FOUR TV SHOWS I LIKE TO WATCH:
1. lost
2. ...
3. ...
4. ... (ohhh-kay for a person who works in TV, i sure don't watch it a lot)

FOUR PLACES I HAVE BEEN ON VACATION:
1. puerto princesa, palawan
2. granada, spain (go las otras!)
3. brussels, belgium
4. bangkok, thailand

FOUR OF MY FAVORITE FOODS:
1. dark chocolate
2. mcdonald's cheeseburgers
3. kfc brownies
4. coffee jelly

FOUR PLACES I WOULD RATHER BE RIGHT NOW:
1. pwedeng in singapore lounging by the boyf's pool
2. andalusia i miss you!
3. clara ramona's intro to flamenco class (it's going on right now)
4. ... but here is really good, too :-)

FOUR PEOPLE WHO WILL ANSWER THIS MEME
1. mimi, if she still reads my blog
2. nette
3. toni
4. ... anybody?

Monday, March 19

The house on Algier Street (2)

continued from this.

---

i rang the doorbell. shortly after, a small, brown-skinned, pleasant-faced girl answered the door.

"puwede bang mag-inquire tungkol sa classes?" i asked.

"opo!" she said, beaming, and ushered me in.

i made my way up a narrow, cream-colored stairwell, whose three flights were lined with posters upon posters mounted on thin, hard wood. these posters had come from all over the world, it seemed, heralding performances upon performances by a singular, striking figure: world-renowned flamenco dancer clara ramona.

this house had become her home and her studio.

lady of the house

when i first started getting interested in flamenco classes, jeline told me about hearing the distinctive of flamenco shoes as she was walking down algier street one february afternoon. looking up, she saw a huge tarpaulin plastered on a house. it said: clara ramona centro de danza flamenca. after falling head over low-heeled, stomping feet in love with flamenco in granada last november (more on which later), naturally, i just had to check it out.

i remember googling "clara ramona" and turning up results from boston, taiwan and madrid, among others. "there must be some other dancer named clara ramona," i thought to myself. "the one stuck teaching in manila can't possibly be the same woman who's done all of that."

but, as i found out that saturday afternoon, she was. not only that; she was filipina!

i sat in the rear of the room as she led a handful of students through the graceful, dignified movements of her classical spanish dance class, which kind of looked more like ballet than flamenco. she was clad in a tight brown top and flowing skirt wrapped around her and tucked into her waistband.

as she moved, i caught her eye in the mirror. she smiled at me, almost as if she knew me.

to be continued

Happy birthday Mom!

my mom turned 58 last friday. we went out for dinner at banana leaf curry house, the last full show of dreamgirls at the podium (one night only! one night only!) and coffee at starbucks. it was a nice date with my family, quite a different way to spend friday night :-)

at the end of the evening, i presented her with my gift, which i had worked on for a couple of days.

her favorite flower (lilies), her favorite colors (purple and turquoise), framing something i hope she'll always find beautiful -- herself!

it's a mirror, okay. i just propped it up on lulu for the photo. i bought it plain and bare at ikea two weekends ago and decided to break out the acrylics. 'twas fun :-)

incidentally, my wedding palette is pretty close to this: amethyst, aquamarine and dark gold.

A story about stories

i used to have a story about me.

and that story was that i wasn't a writer. that writing was just something i "did", like in my spare time, or when i felt like it, or to make money when i needed money. and that writing wasn't really important to me, or it wasn't really me. now that might sound kind of funny considering i've been writing all my life, people know me as a writer, and i make my living now off of writing.

but there. i never thought i was a writer because i wanted to be other things. and wanting to be other things than a writer, my story went, meant that i couldn't possibly be a real writer. for a very long time, my story went, i was a frustrated singer. (boy, you don't know how frustrated.) i was potentially a phenomenal solo singer... if i could just have more money, or more courage, or more talent, or more time.

being a potential something feels really great, let me tell you. it gives one an excuse to be not-quite-good at, or not really put yourself into, what you're doing at the moment. you can always claim, "oh but i'm not really a writer. i'm actually really trying to be something else." how convenient!

so i chose to be a struggling singer. there was a whole sh*tload of drama and an odd sense of nobility in all that struggling. and don't we like our drama.

so that was one story: "i'm not really a writer."

within that story was another one: "i'm not really a writer. i can't write fiction."

which was true. i really couldn't. i was only good for magazine articles, newspaper articles, research, speeches, analyses, business writing, essays, papers, press releases, copy, blurbs, plugs, blogs, and the occasional poem. ang engot diba? ang dami-dami ko na ngang sinusulat, hindi pa ako writer. but real writers, my story went, could write fiction. and i couldn't. i didn't want to worry about plot and characterization and all that rot. and since i couldn't, or didn't, then i wasn't a real writer.

in freshman english class, doreen fernandez once assigned us to write a three-page short story. i didn't. i wrote a fictionalized account of childhood memories with my dad. then in class, my classmates' stories got read out loud -- and they were honest-to-goodness fictional stories, about fictional people who had wings and cut themselves and went crazy and looked at life from inside tupperware containers (ang galing ng mga kaklase ko, actually). and i looked at my story and realized, this is my life -- this isn't fiction.

doreen (bless her soul) had me read my story in class, and effusively, generously praised it. so i thought -- okay, this ain't fiction, but it works. people love this stuff. i get praised for it. so makes perfect sense if i stick to this. just this.

and then -- can you guess? i never wrote, or tried to write fiction. ever. it was just too much fun being good at everything else to risk it.

so that was the story. recently i've recognized it for what it was. just a story. i gave it up.

and what lay behind it was a real story. my very own, first-ever piece of short fiction. 813 words of it, written in an hour and a half yesterday afternoon.

what lay behind it was a real writer. capable of writing anything, including fiction.

what lay behind that story was me.

Monday, March 12

Trailers and 300

caught the last full show of 300 last night at rockwell with gideon and jeline. it was fun, i don't know why i've never watched movies (or trailers) with them before.

trailers. that movie of mr. bean going to the beach in europe kind of reminds me of the acs on tour.

die hard 4.0 starts out like a corporate avp for a telecom company.

the trailer for -- norbert? norbin? norvin? -- basta eddie murphy movie was surprisingly funny. is there some kind of prosthetics award-giving body somewhere in the world? 'cause that there is a really convincing fat suit.

jeline on the reaping: "another satanist-apocalyptic movie." gideon helpfully cleared up my confusion on the plagues of egypt and the signs of the apocalypse. the reaping is about the former, although i know some people for whom a rain of frogs (the third plague) might as well mean the end of the world.

i liked how the trailer for the next fantastic four movie played out as just one continuous scene. i couldn't care less about the fantastic four, but even i goggled when the silver surfer burst out onto the scene. and i don't even know what he does except gleam and surf.

me on sunshine, which immediately followed: "another scientific-apocalyptic movie." we all giggled when the title was revealed at the end. "from the director of trainspotting comes... sunspotting." titter titter.

300. as promised by its promos, the movie was gorgeous. absolutely gorgeous. charlie (my partner art director) would pee his pants at every scene. abs, abs everywhere. it got so overblown at some point (was it when the oracle started exposing her nipples or when leonidas and the missus started going at it?), which made it so much more fun to watch.

may i just ask why the asians have all the circus freaks? ("how imperialist!" hissed jeline at some european-versus-asian dialogue.) is it so you know who to root for? because of course you'll root for the hotties.

gerard butler's accent-and-underbite combo struck me as strange. scottish pala siya. "they aw thweatening spawta!" mock-frothed jeline. "prepare for glowy!" he roared, purposely rippling his abs. subtext: "and flex!"

gay undertones abounded, which is unsurprising considering they're all equipped with cgi eight-packs and large padded panties (where did leonidas get the apple he had for a mid-skirmish snack? was that the bulge in his skivvies?). the two prettiest soldiers flirt with each other on the battlefield. "ay. doodams na yan!" murmured gideon. xerxes kept insisting he was divine. subtext: "i am divine... brown" (jeline). "i am divine... and fabulous!" (me).

pero in fairness, maganda talaga siya. as in beautiful, visually. plot- and dialogue-wise, obviously nobody set out to reinvent the classic guy battle movie, which was fine by me. i liked faramir's narration (who's that actor again?), although he rasped through most of it. and to have started out with a vision of the movie looking that gorgeous, and to have followed through on it... wow. galeng. i even liked the closing credits.

you can check out the posters on the imp awards site. i love the exclamation marks on everything, it's so old-hollywood overpromising/campy. and the "beautiful death" poster (yes, one of the few without the exclamation marks) is one of my favorite versions.

update: okay, i just came from a shoot and according to paolo contis (o diba showbiz ang lola mo), all the abs in that movie were genuine flesh and blood. apparently he read somewhere that the spartans worked out only their biceps and abs six months prior to filming. makeup plus the color grading must have just emphasized the outlines.

divine... and fabulous!

Thursday, March 8

Filipinas

hey, the second article i wrote for the philippine star's ystyle section has been published. i'm posting the full text below, but you can also check it out here (not for long, though).

i can type really fast without looking at the keyboard, and i was really grateful for that skill when i interviewed isa (who told me she is rina's aunt). if i had been hunched over my laptop, i might have missed how fun and inspiring she was! i was blown away by how firmly she stood for her artistic vision in the face of discouragement, indifference, difficulty and even... drumroll please... offers to buy her work, a.k.a. money. (i would have probably sold out. haha.) i was also blown away when it occurred to me that isa had become what she'd intended the women in her photos to be... real and inspiring.

her staff actually gave me a really comprehensive media kit and press release. theoretically i could have just done a couple of nips and tucks and turned those in well before deadline, but i enjoyed my conversation with isa too much to be a sly, cheating shmuck.

incidentally, i've actually been to the unesco house in paris, where isa showed her photographs. acs performed there last october.

anyway, here's the article. see if you can guess who the "false start" was.

Filipina greats

By Deepa Paul
The Philippine STAR 03/02/2007

To the public at large, Filipinas is a series of photographs of 30 Filipina women. Having first opened in February 2006, Filipinas, the exhibit, shows the faces and stories of women who are pioneers in their respective fields, whose example or leadership paved the way for other Filipina women to become more than what was expected of them. But to photographer Isa Lorenzo, creative director of Silver Lens Photography, Filipinas is "a four-year journey."

The journey began, as most do, with an idea; for Filipinas, it was Isa’s idea of an "homage to women who have reached lifetime successes." Having heard about some of these women since childhood, Isa set out to put together a list of women who had, in some way or other, gone beyond themselves in areas that were difficult. "My qualifications for inclusion in this list were accomplishment and age—they must have done a lot in their lives and they must be old enough to not screw up their achievements."

She intended her list to include only 12 women, but Isa soon realized that the Filipina’s power to inspire, and the number of lives that deserved acknowledgement, could not be limited to such a small number. "We have a lot of Filipinas who are firsts in Asia, like the first female mayor in Asia, the first Asian graduate of the Harvard school of medicine. By the way, she’s 97 and still practicing!" Isa quips.

Getting Started

List in hand, Isa’s journey had barely begun. There was the task of learning about each of the 30 women on the list and hunting down people who knew them—children, grandchildren, relatives, students, and friends—and would agree to deliver Isa’s letters of introduction and samples of her work. There was having to deal with rejection for reasons of health or vanity; an unnamed patron of the arts promptly and firmly declined upon learning that she would have to be photographed without makeup. There was the logistical nightmare of scheduling the shoots, despite the fact that Isa only required a maximum of 20 minutes of actual shooting time. "These women are so busy, it’s insane!" Isa exclaims "The most difficult was (National Bookstore founder) Socorro Ramos – we had to schedule her 15 minutes of shooting time six months in advance!"

There were false starts, too – such as the very first subject Isa chose to photograph. "As soon as I began shooting, I knew I had the wrong woman. I felt like running away! Hindi ko siya kaya!" Isa says, laughing. "I didn’t shoot for three months after that." Trauma? Perhaps, but Isa is quick to say that she used the time to thresh out her artistic vision for the exhibit, and to focus on what she wanted to achieve with the photographs she would compile. The subject of Isa’s first shoot (a larger-than-life, controversial historical figure) never made the final cut – a conscious exclusion that Isa feels "changed the nature of the project completely."

Then came the processing of the film, the edits, the search for the paper to print the mural-sized images on, coordination with the printer, meetings with various national institutions as venues for the show, and on and on. The project took roughly three years to complete.

Hitting The Road

Filipinas’ opening night at the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP) almost exactly one year ago was not the end of the road, but the beginning of a new and unimagined path beyond the gallery. Filipinas traveled to universities all over Metro Manila, where it faced the puzzled scrutiny of students who goggled at the size of the photos and wondered what the big fuss was about these bare-faced, deeply lined, and in many cases, completely anonymous women.

What they discovered beyond the bafflement and curiosity blew them away, much to Isa’s delight. "We brought the show to Far Eastern University, where one girl remembered that she had totally hated her high school. But she had one teacher, just one that she really loved, who made all the difference and kept her from just suffering through high school," Isa recounts. "These women are like that. It then became very real to these students that just one woman can make a world of difference." More importantly, Isa says, once students saw that, they began thinking beyond the world of "I can never be like that, I’m not from where they’re from, I don’t have what they have" to "I can make a difference, too."

From gallery to university to retail spaces and malls, Filipinas continued to move and inspire with its clean, stark images and powerful message. It was only a matter of time until its journey proved to be entirely unstoppable. So unstoppable, in fact, that in December last year, one of the world’s biggest organizations came knocking with an invitation.

Paris And Beyond

Upon the suggestion of Filipinas curator Deanna Ongpin-Recto, Isa had tossed off a letter to UNESCO in July 2006 – and had promptly forgotten about it. So the invitation to show the exhibit at the UNESCO House in Paris came as a total, yet welcome, surprise. Filipinas was chosen by the UNESCO Section on Women and Gender Equality to be shown for a full week, in celebration of International Women’s Day on March 8. Isa was also asked to speak about the photographs and bring her UNESCO audience face to face with a few of the women whose photographs were part of the exhibit.

Paris marks Filipinas’ first step outside Philippine borders – and that, Isa feels, makes a huge difference not just to the photographer and her subjects, but to Filipinas and the Philippines. "The face of the Filipina known to the world is the OFW. But these women are not that. Not many people know about this side of the Filipina," Isa emphasizes. "People will see that the Philippines has something more to show. It will be acknowledged on a different level, on a global platform." It is Isa’s belief that that global recognition will pave the way for greater acknowledgment and appreciation where it truly counts – back home.

After being parked in Paris until late spring, Filipinas will continue its journey across Europe in May 2006, visiting Madrid, Rome, Geneva and "somewhere in Germany, maybe Berlin." The Department of Foreign Affairs has taken Filipinas under its wing and put Philippine embassies to work finding places to show it in Europe; no mean feat, considering the difficulties posed by an election year. "The embassies’ minds are on anything but arts and culture," Isa says wryly. "But Filipinas is apolitical, neutral, it’s para sa bayan – and they get that. That made it easier, in a way."

The photographs have been compiled into a book for publishing in June, and arrangements are being made with the Undersecretary for American Affairs to bring Filipinas to the United States later in the year. Having enjoyed a lengthy run uncommon to most local exhibits, Isa is committed to propelling Filipinas as far into the future as it can possibly go – a commitment that stands in the face of offers to buy or borrow select photographs. "This is not a selling show, where the work gets broken up into pieces for sale," Isa emphasizes. "It was so difficult to gather all of these women. Why will I ever take them apart?"

After traveling abroad and going down the publishing route, what else lies ahead in Filipinas’ path? Isa thinks back to the beginning for the answer. She remembers assembling the list, being extra careful about inclusions or exclusions, combing through fields of society and far-flung communities for exceptional lives, and scrutinizing these lives for ethical value. "It was so hard to find good people who are still good and still at it," Isa says. "But there are more out there. I just haven’t had an opportunity to meet them, and photograph them, just yet."

* * *Filipinas is open for public viewing at UNESCO House, 7 Place de Fontenoy, Paris, until March 9. It is presented in cooperation with the Museum Foundation of the Philippines, Department of Foreign Affairs, National Commission for Culture and the Arts, and Cultural Center of the Philippines. For more information, visit www.filipinas.silverlensphoto.com/about.htm

Sunday, March 4

Finally

they were gorgeous when i first got them over a year and a half ago. but a couple of weeks ago i took a good hard look at my favorite pair of sexy black snakeskin pumps and admitted the following things to myself:
  1. i wore them everywhere and had really run them into the ground
  2. they made a godawful clacking racket when i walked in them
  3. i had had them repaired once too often
  4. they were so loose on me, i found myself slipping out of them while walking
  5. there was a hole in the toe of one sole
  6. the tips of the toes could be... well... blacker
  7. walking in them had started to make my legs hurt
ergo, they had to go. boo hoo. i realize that it's really sad to have felt as sad as i did at the thought of retiring an old pair of shoes. ah, well. so, out with the old, and in with the new...

out with the snakeskin and in with the patent leather!

aren't they pretty? *squeals*

i got them at takashimaya yesterday afternoon with marlon's yearly bounty of shopping vouchers (he's awarded them at work for exceptional nerdiness). i've gotten some fabulous things from these annual voucher jaunts -- like some really good shoes, makeup, wacoal lingerie that would cost me an arm and a leg back home, and my first chanel.

oh and yes, i'm spending the weekend with marlon in singapore. ;-)

Wednesday, February 28

The house on Algier Street

four stories of dark, solid adobe rock and a large peaked roof girded by square glass windows that seemed to suggest a space both unusual and intriguing. it seemed to belong in another place, somewhere foreign, maybe colder. (to my yet-untraveled, young imagination, that place was baguio.) it seemed so proud to be different, and defiant to be made of what it was amidst a quiet makati neighborhood of low, small, squat houses with flat galvanized iron roofs and wooden walls. back then, i didn't know the street it was on was named algier street.

i have been fascinated by the house on algier street as long as i can remember. growing up, i would pass by on my way to school, and it always arrested my attention, whether in a quick, second swivel of the head or a long, drawn-out, slow-moving gaze. as i grew older, a landscape of glass, steel and manicured grass sprung up around the house. a year or two ago, i noticed a "for sale" sign below the blue peaked roof and thought that whoever bought the house would be a very fortunate and unusual family. the length of time between the sign's appearance and its subsequent disappearance escaped my attention.

however, my curiosity never faded. it simply wandered idly to the back of my mind, where i always wondered what the house looked like inside, and what kind of people lived in such a proud and unusual house.

last saturday, i stepped inside and found out.

to be continued

Tuesday, February 27

Sundot

parang may nakasundot sa pwet ko buong araw. i keep sitting up straight and figuratively fidgeting and hopping around -- hindi ako mapakali. i am plowing through an amazing amount of work considering i was such a noncommittal vegetable yesterday.

and i still haven't written about sitting in flamenco class last saturday and my super big foot-in-mouth booboo at work!so much to do! so much to do! and i wanna be out of here by nine!

(by the way, that raket i was stuck on in my previous entry? after getting myself unstuck, my client was so happy with it that he agreed to accept the draft as final -- even if he had technically paid for a separate and final copy. yay me!)
i'm just a little energizer bunny curry!

Sunday, February 25

Sunday morning sounds

heard while tapping away on lulu, working on a current raket (miraculously unstuck and thisclose to cracking it!), bright and early this beautiful sunday morning.

oo nga naman. *smiles*
Who says you can't be happy all the time?
Say what you like, but I'm still gonna try


"Happy", Lighthouse Family

Friday, February 23

Something old, something new

something new. instead of the usual puerto galera weekend, marlon and i hied off to the beaches of san juan, batangas for a day trip. we ended up at virgin beach resort in laiya, which was recommended by my sister. although laiya is supposed to be the "convenient" beach for manileños, i was surprised that we spent most of the morning on the road. medyo malayo pa rin, but at least you don't have to take a ferry.

one of the morning's highlights was getting to drive a manual for the first time since driving school. that was both fun (speeding down star tollway at 100kph! the fastest i've ever gone!) and mortifying (shuddering to a panic-fueled crawl in the narrow streets of rosario, whereupon i gave up the driver's seat to my nervous wreck of a fiance).

anyway, virgin beach was quite satisfying the beach is about as good as galera, with sand that made up for being slightly coarser and darker by also being cleaner. the beachside cabanas are great -- you can get them with curtains or none. (the curtains are, fortunately or unfortunately, not thick enough to hide the kind of hanky panky that will drive families with small children away. don't try it. just trust me.

being somewhere new was exhilarating. especially with sights, skies and a sunset like these.


no booming stereos, no drunken neighbors. just clean, quiet bliss.

blissed-out boyf with his science magazine. geeks rock!

a phoenix in the clouds

even if it wasn't on the water, the sunset was perfect anyway

something old. three and a half years old, to be exact: marlon and i, and the things we love about each other. the depth of being together and the ease of enjoying each other, and how it all comes so naturally and with such joy.

but come to think of if, that weekend, even those things were new again. and for that, i couldn't be happier or more thankful.

just as things should be

here's wishing this this weekend, and all the weekends that come after, will be as perfect as last.

Thursday, February 22

Today's wows

wow!

-- i really miss some things about working in makati! the walking is great. it's so easy to step out of the office and have a pleasant walk to clear your mind. ( i used to do that rather often when i worked in the factory.) i believe this realization has much to do with the fact that i work right beside edsa -- i clear my mind by walking there and i will have to be peeled off some rampaging, decrepit bus's front bumper.

oh, and in makati cbd there's no shortage of decent to good places to eat. and the mall! two or three freaking blocks to greenbelt -- a short walk i would have despised before, but am totally craving now.

-- damn that chikn fillet sandwich from kfc is soooo yummy! why have i been stuffing myself with the bigger, greasier, twice-as-expensive zinger all this time?

-- lays vinegar chips! we had them for the first time at our weekly unit meeting (renamed "unit eating") and they are soooo good. i must have eaten half the bag... and that's ok! right pia?

-- i'm genuinely interested in booking tickets for this year's singapore arts fest. i've been going to singapore around the time of the arts fest for three years, and i've generally made up all sorts of excuses for seeing any of the shows. well, there was the stroj two years ago, plus the chalk art thingy. but since then, deadma. i'm open to that changing this year, though, which i realized when i opened the yearly mailer i receive from the arts fest people. this looks really interesting, for one thing.

-- my boss doesn't wear a barong! i don't know why i should be happy about that, and no offense to bosses who wear barongs, but today i realized i'm really happy that that's part of who he is.

-- someone i just met today who does wear a barong told me this: "you might very well be heaven-sent."
oh and can i make singit just one wow i had tuesday? marlon, as he shut the lid to the trunk, his suitcase inside and all ready for his flight back to singapore: "you are too good to be true and too good to pass up." it totally blew me away. especially knowing what i know.

last weekend was a huge wow, too, but i'd rather write about that with the photos.

Friday, February 16

Aray!

this afternoon i discovered why i put off waxing my upper lip for a quarter of a century.

because it HURTS, dammit.

it is almost probably certain that i will never have it done in the places that really count. ever. i actually cried, i'm such a wuss. but now that i've opened the door to a lifetime of upper lip maintenance, i figure i'll just pre-pop a painkiller next time.

masyado yatang naaliw sa akin yung waxer. she not only waxed my upper lip, but also threaded away the strays. and then she went to work on my brows, free of charge. that threading is something else ha. i didn't know whether to slap her hand away or just be thankful that she threw in the threading for free.

the waxing-threading lady kept giggling at me. before she dusted off my brow area with a piece of tissue, she tore it in half so that i would have something to wipe away my tears with. "eto o," she quipped. "hati tayo."

hmpf. i knew i should have had the wax done before the hair treatment, back rub and pedicure. that series of rips and smarts sure did burst my blissful massage bubble.

ang hirap naman maging balbon.

Wednesday, February 14

Just the two of us


my sister took this photo of marlon and me in puerto galera about two years back. i don't think i've ever posted it here because i thought it looked lopsided, but i think it's perfect for what we have now.

which is just him and me. together.

and an ocean of possibility, of our whole lives, stretching out before us.

Tuesday, February 13

All I need to know

up until last night, i knew a million things about my wedding.

i could have told you the name of the church and why we chose it, how much we had paid to reserve it and the supreme hassle of confirming the overseas bank transfer to singapore. i could have told you the exact date and time of the wedding, and a funny story about how my sister asked me to please get married in 2007 instead of 2008. i could have told you all the things marlon and i considered -- getting overseas friends and family home in time, where to put them up, and how to tell them. i could even post the save-the-date card that i made myself using photoshop.

i knew figures -- budgets and buffers and guest lists and contingencies. i knew where marlon and i could pull out extra money and where we could save.

i knew exactly what the colors would be, since i had spent a large chunk of one workday afternoon ripping out pantone chips from a book we have at the office. i could also tell you how all four designers i consulted about the wedding outfits absolutely loved the colors, and how i basked in the glow of being the ultimate "different" bride, blazing brilliantly past the trap of trends, consciously eschewing some version of last year's pink and chocolate brown or tiffany blue. i could have posted my color boards and described in detail the process that left me with the perfect color combination.

i could have named everyone on the entourage list and told you what they meant to me and marlon. i could have posted the carefully selected and compiled attire pegs that would give you an idea of what they would look like on the big day.

i could rattle off the names, services, rates, availabilities, pros, cons and general reputations of everyone from the venue rental to the caterer to the priest to the hair and makeup artist by heart. i could say the same of everyone on my shortlist, and why i hadn't yet decided. i knew marlon and i would serve hot chocolate and batangas coffee before dinner, and that my music was not going to come from some cheesy string quartet.

i could show you a flamenco guitarist's email address i had saved in my cell phone, and tell you why brazilian jazz bands are just way too expensive. i could tell you what ceremony songs i had wanted since i was a college freshman, what i would make my friends sing, and even where they would practice and how early in advance.

i knew exactly what i wanted to happen, from the passport-inspired invitation to the gallery of travel photos i would set up with the help of a professional event stylist i had hit it off with. i even knew what people would say, or what i wanted them to say about the wedding: that it was fun, personal, intimate, laid-back, so full of details, so romantic. i knew what all of that would say about me, about marlon and i as a couple, about the fantastic and wonderful life we were sure to lead after the wedding was over.

i knew. i use the past tense because i don't know any of these things anymore for sure.

none of that matters, because now i know the most important thing of all.

i know that marlon loves me, and that i love him.

and that we're starting over. and that our life together doesn't have to be anything that we previously thought it would be.

and really, that's all i need to know.

Monday, February 12

Toingk

that is the sound of a weekend being wiped clean.

wala daw alon sa la union this weekend.

my sister just told me about it last night, but i can also kind of figure things out from here.

crap.

cut to me and my figurative blank slate. or cut to me peering round the corner for something that could possibly be, well, just around the corner. cue maudlin rendition of "something's coming" from west side story -- preferably madly skedaddling violins. didn't care much for tony's vocals anyhow.

Yoga

ananda marga is sanskrit for "path of bliss." (actually, i knew long ago that ananda meant bliss -- i actually wanted to name my someday-daughter ananda, but someone beat me to it.) it's also the name of a yoga center tucked into an quiet, unassuming street (literally, maamo street) in teacher's village in quezon city. which is where i found myself bright and early saturday morning.

and when i say bright and early, i mean bright and early. i crawled home from jonel's birthday dinner at one in the morning, woke up promptly at 630am, left the house promptly (again) at 730am. all this promptness resulted, in of course, me arriving promptly at 830am in mcdonalds philcoa, where i was to meet my buff and sporty officemate raech (who, incidentally, i wasn't even speaking to last week).

Sunshine

the "early" part took care of the "bright". and that was... kind of amazing. i don't get to enjoy that kind of sunshine and breeze, being dead to the world usually until noon. usually. it's an understatement to say that things have been unusual lately.

if there's any one thing that would have made "path of bliss" real to me, it would have been the sunshine. the way it fell through the welded iron openings of the trike i rode, creating pockets of light and dark on my exposed ankle or blotting the fine brown hairs around raech's face into copper light. the way it streamed through the trees and welcomed me into the house, along with the creaking of the gate and the tentative smile of a woman sitting in the front yard. or the way it warmed the iron benches that i sat on while having lunch, making me feel oddly alive and peaceful at the same time.

and i would have missed all of that if life had just been a little different. if i had insisted on being the way i had been before.

Me, myself and...

the yoga in itself was good. i worked up a light sweat while doing the warmups, and alternated between complete, focused grace and flop-down-on-the-mat, tummy-jiggling embarrassment during the three basic yoga postures we did. all the way through, i felt i owned my body. that i was taking care of it. that we were friends who were learning to do things together. those are nice ways to feel about your body on a saturday morning, especially if you never expected you would.

one of the things i really liked was the bit of personal massage after. who knew i could make myself giddy and faint just by running my index finger around my face a couple of times, or rubbing my hands down my calves? suddenly, in that moment, it made no sense to pay strangers to take care of my body when it was so satisfying to take care of it myself.

it was so satisfying, there was no stopping the next image that flashed in my mind: my fingers tracing the same path on the face of someone i love, and seeing it bring the same peace and satisfaction i felt to his features. his eyes would close and he would relax even just for a little while, maybe pushing a long workday further away from him, and somehow that touch would melt into one of the miniscule million things that brings us closer to each other.

i didn't stop the thought at the time, since thinking of his features in such bliss was actually pretty blissful for me too. but later i wondered: three and a half years. is that all it takes to create such difficulty in separating myself from marlon... even just in my mind?

"Completely relaxed"

i fell asleep halfway through the guided relaxation bit. either i'm the easiest person in the world to suggest things to, or i can just be extremely... present. tell me my toes are relaxed and they'll feel like practically falling off, like bits of jelly. i zonked out at around the time the synthesized female voice (which raech found extremely disturbing) was telling me that my chest was "relaxing... relaxed... completely relaxed."

the vegetarian lunch served at the center was simple and satisfying, veggies with tofu and red rice for fifty bucks. i was so completely relaxed i barely ate. must've spaced out through the entire meal. also, i was so completely relaxed i rationalized taking a cab home instead of commuting (you know, to prolong the relaxation). then i zonked out on my own bed with the lights off for about two hours.

ah well. at least we know it works. and if you think about it, "completely relaxed" isn't such a bad place to be on a saturday morning. or the rest of the time. like monday mornings when you're waiting for a client. *ehem*

Friday, February 9

Unrecognizable

what in the world has happened to my life?

in five days, without lifting a finger or asking anyone for anything, i've received one full-time job offer, two business opportunity offers, one freelance editing gig, and a writing assignment.

only the writing assignment is from someone i haven't only talked to once in my whole life. the most recent of the business offers (just about ten minutes ago) is from a woman i've never spoken to, but knew by face. we bumped into each other this morning on the mrt, ended up chatting and she got my number.

at hindi ko man lang pinuhunan ng laway 'tong mga 'to!!!! susme!!!

i'm doing three things for the first time in the next three weeks: yoga class with raech tomorrow, surfing with my sister next weekend, and attending my first flamenco class on the 28th.

another first, albeit a jarring and slightly surreal one: the first ever hate mail of my life is on the way. but at least he warned me about it. thank God for small blessings. but man. i've never gotten hate mail!

our neighbor told my mom last tuesday that i made her day by just smiling at her.

my mom is happier than i've seen her in a long time. she keeps thanking me for it. what the...?

and...

the ultimate proof that my world has tumbled headfirst into a blender...

i wore a sleeveless top today. (haha akala n'yo kung ano, no?) my sister and my mom dressed me up this morning for jonel's chinese new year party and they were amazed that i actually looked... good. in a sleeveless top that belongs to my sister.

okay i wore it for about an hour. before leaving the house, i changed out of it at the last minute, haha. i ended up wearing one of my favorite tops, one i wore in my high school grad photo. it felt kind of... more me. or more like the old me.

so maybe i'm not quite ready to be unrecognizable yet.

but has life ever waited until we were ready?

:-)

Monday, February 5

First steps

this must have been what it was like, learning to walk in a world that was huge and unknown and terrifying and exciting.

shaking, falling, getting up, taking a step. crawling (groveling? haha) a few times.

or it might not have been what it was like.

cool.

===

jeline posted this on her lj, and i'm nicking it. i have something i don't have the words for. i think this one comes pretty damn close.

Recovery
Edward Hirsch


It was as if the rain could feel itself
falling through the air today, as if the air
could actually feel its own dampness, the breeze
could hear a familiar voice explaining the emptiness
to the dark elms that swayed unconsciously along
the wet road, the elms that could still feel
their own branches glistening with rain.

It was as if the sky had imagined a morning
of indigos and pinks, mauves and reddish-browns.
The smiling young nurse who helped you in the car
was wearing two colorful ribbons in her auburn hair and
somehow they looked precisely like ribbons gleaming
in the hair of a woman helping you into a car.
I believe I had never seen ribbons before.

And suddenly I was staring at asphalt
puddled with rainwater. And bluish letters
purpling on a white sign. And sliding electric
ENTRANCES & EXITS. And statues bristling with color.
The yellow sunlight filtered through the clouds
and I believe I had never seen a street lamp
shimmer across a wavy puddle before.

The road home was slick with lights
and everything seemed to be crying out, just
this, just this, nothing more, nothing else!--
as if the morning were somehow conscious of itself.
When you leaned over and touched me on the arm
it was as if my arm needed to be touched
in that way, at exactly that time.

Sunday, January 28

The making of a blushing bride


trial hair and makeup last week with angie cruz and ojie rayel. i'm just posting the one with the updo because the lighting in the other photos is crappy.

i was not only amazed that angie managed to cover up my seven (yes, seven, it was horrible) zits, but that he/she didn't drop his makeup bag and run away screaming when he first saw them. he called attention to them rather tactfully, which impressed me: "is your skin, er, under treatment?" my mother and i tripped all over ourselves to assure him that the breakout was highly abnormal.

angie's just gotten signed to do makeup for shu uemura, and ojie's done a couple of preview and cosmo covers. the lighting in the photos is bad, and my sister just took them using her sony ericsson daddy phone, but the quality was superb, rates even better. booked 'em right away.

must thank loi for referring them.

Slowing down

lately i realized how fast-paced my life is. so many things have happened to me, and i haven't had time to really stop and write about them. that's worrisome, because many times blogging helps me savor, learn from and immortalize the moment. i'm worried i've been letting too many of those moments just zip by.

suddenly the tour is three months behind me, and in not communicating how meaningful it was to me, the meaning itself is beginning to slip away, and the details are beginning to lose their crispness and clarity.

i have been wearing my newfound identity as a bride for a month now, and all the little unfamiliarities and insights and surprises that came with slipping on that identity are also fading.

things go by so fast! i often find myself too tired to write about all the things that have happened to me. the iffy internet connection at work lately hasn't helped either.

i need to slow down. weekends like this -- quiet, at home, not a lot to do -- help, but sometimes they're just too short.

--

this weekend was nice though. friday morning, i spent with a young and enthusiastic designer who not only totally got what i wanted, but trimmed his rates so that they fit neatly into my budget. and let me tell you, after all being confronted with one heart-stopping quotation after another, plus a slowly inflating budget, it was all i could do not to jump up and down and clap my hands with delight.

in the evening, a despedida for gutsy at her place. she's leaving for oz to study for a year. intimate party, lots of great food, and (as the theme for the evening) lots of embarrassing photos of ourselves. there were almost too many embarrassing photos of jd and andrei, considering they weren't even at the party. my photos were reverse-embarrassing: i was so thin pre-marlon that i'm embarrassed for myself now! not good. as sir jojo once said to me as he attempted to snatch a piece of iloilo butterscotch out of my hands:ang traje de boda!

we ended up staying at gutsy's until 5 a.m., since mimi, our designated driver, was knocked out cold by a heavy dose of cough medicine. oneill fell asleep on the chair in gutsy's sala that is extremely cushy but looks uncannily like a giant sanitary napkin.

had giggly wedding talk with the girls, and -- surprise surprise!-- jay tamayo, who assured me that our wedding budget was commendably low for tagaytay. grabe. everyone is so excited for this wedding. it's the next big gc/acs wedding after aui's. a full third of all the guests are the choir. wonder what it will be like when they all stand up to sing -- sasabog ata ang chapel on the hill.

--

stayed in bed most of the weekend and caught up on my "to watch" pile of dvds. marie antoinette last week, misery and little miss sunshine this week. i must say misery is one of the creepiest films ever -- so much nail-biting tension packed into one slow zoom-in of james caan's face as kathy bates' character puttered closer and closer to his bedroom door. (it also helped that he had some very expressive winces and facial tics. galing.)

went to a bridal fair and found a great deal on white gold wedding rings, so i paid the reservation fee after discussing it with marlon and sleeping on it. eavesdropped at a couple of bickering couples ("hindi, hindi ko naman sinabing walang kwenta yung wedding cake!"). was dumbstruck at how crappy some suppliers are and how much pretense they employ to get people's business. generally enjoyed being by myself since everyone was hounding the couples.

finally, thankfully, got to blog.

and it's sunday night all too soon. another fast-paced week coming right up.

Friday, January 19

Huwhapakkkkkk

this can only be cosmic retribution for every time i crowed over a 33.3-peso purchase at an ukay-ukay or a 200-peso pair of sandals at landmark.

this morning, i found out what a wedding gown costs. and now, at 7:10 p.m., my heart has resumed close-to-normal functions, finally sending up some much-needed blood to my brain, and i am actually capable of having thoughts on the matter.

i can't believe that i will be spending more on approximately 12-hour use of a couple of meters of cloth than on a 24-hour rental of a 2-hectare farm and garden.

i can't believe i've dreamt of wearing this garment my whole life and now i''m mentally running for the first burlap sack i can find, and dying it white. (with maybe some touches of gold.)

i can't believe marlon and i are going to spend so much on me. can't the four bridesmaids, two mothers, three secondary sponsors, two flower girls, three ring/coin/bible bearers, best man, maid of honor and marlon wear it too? can't we all just share and be happy?

i can't believe that wedding dresses in singapore cost at least 24 times more.(kamusta naman at wala talaga akong tiwala sa mga sastre nila doon.) this information was volunteered just a couple of minutes ago by marlon, to explain his unnatural calm when i told him the figures.

magtanan na lang kaya kami.

or maybe i've been shopping at too many ukay-ukays for far too long.

Sunday, January 14

Just indigo?

seems like too many of my blog posts recently are just quick ones to let everyone know i'm still alive. the backlog of wonderful, funny and complex things to write about is growing more formidable by the day, and i'm just praying for time (and a decent office internet connection) to write about everything.

but for now, a surprising discovery: while deciding on a color scheme for the wedding (yes! the wedding!), i realized i couldn't remember what the indigo girl in rainbow brite was called. remember rainbow brite? yeah, i drew upon my childhood for color inspiration.

[a brief digression: just last night, i also found out that one of my very good friends from acs, and our very first wedding ninang, sang an astounding number of commercial jingles from my childhood: rebisco, chokies, dingdong ("masarap malutong dingdong!"), tanduay ("pour out the good times, pour out the good times, pour out the good times with tanduay five years"), mr clean ("labadami, labango, labalinis pa!") and many others that i forget now. "wow dadapots," i cried, "you were my childhood!"]

okay back to indigo. i finally googled her this evening and found out that she was the only color kid in rainbow brite who didn't have a first name. the others had names like lala and patty and buddy; she was just indigo! kawawang bata.

it's funny to look indigo up now and see that she's asian, has wavy dark hair, loves acting and being on stage, and is kind of artsy-fartsy -- just like me! so i guess picking her as my primary wedding color is a lucky stroke. :-)

hmmm. suddenly i want indigo streaks just like hers. ayayay.