Ramblings

iTuned In (As Usual)

Thu, 02 Apr 2009 09:21:02 GMT

So Wednesday night comes again - that time of the week when I shut out the world for two whole hours and it's just me, the couch, the TV and my text buddy Joey. But first a quick rewind to last week. Motown night was a blast and I still couldn't get over the performances. I absolutely loved Matt Giraud's soulful take on Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On" but top prize went to Adam Lambert's subdued and controlled rendition of "Tracks of My Tears." Michael Sarver did not give the worst performance (that distinction goes to Megan Joy who gave me ear hemorrhage if there is such a specie) but it was no surprise that it was the oil rig worker, and not the font designer, who was sent home.

With iTunes night, there was definitely no dearth in terms of song choices. As long as the song was a top download in the iTunes register, it was up for grabs. In addition, this was another opportunity for them to sound relevant and contemporary and also for the viewers to get an idea as to what kind of singer they will be if they do make it to the recording biz. But with a range of songs that wide to choose from, it can also work to one's disadvantage as it can give hints as to the singer's creativity and flexibility as a performer. From my perspective it is also important to pick a song which showcases the singer's range and personality but still remain distinct from the original artist's version.

With nine people left onstage, it becomes easier to categorize the performances. I'll start with the "middle 3" a.k.a the ones who sang all right - Lil Rounds, Allison Iraheta and Scott MacIntyre.

Scott's vocals have never really been overly impressive but I have always liked his voice quality. Singing "Just the Way You Are" brought that out rather well. He was not amazing but his performance was very good. Allison is also one of my favorites and her rocker chick getup was not as distracting as the judges (or Joey, for the matter) thought. I also loved her song pick (No Doubt's "Don't Speak" which is one of my sister's favorite songs) but she did sound a little too much like Gwen Stefani so I don't think she brought anything new to it. As for Lil, she is (still) frustrating. I loved her audition and I also thoroughly enjoyed her Top 36 performance but everything has been sort of downhill from that point. I am still waiting for her to take one song and rip it into a million of shreds because with a voice as big as that and a personality to boot, she can do it. That perfect song just seems elusive for Lil Rounds at this point. Celine Dion's "Surrender" was not right for her. There were times when she sounded a little too nasal for comfort and other times when she seemed to struggle. She did soar on the big notes though and I think that, and the swooping camera, worked to her advantage.

The "bottom" three a.k.a. the endangered ones would include Megan Joy, Matt Giraud and Anoop Desai. After two weeks of making me swoon like a schoolgirl, everything came to a screeching halt for Anoop. He chose to sing Usher's "Caught Up" and did he have huge shoes to fill! Usher is the total performer and is smooth in terms of both the dance moves and the vocals. Anoop, for the life of me, has the voice but not the groove. I did not get any bit of that toughie, gangsterish gloating (which we last saw in his performance of "Beat It" three weeks ago) and I don't think it worked to make his performance any better.
Megan Joy was a letdown. Last week she was not good at all. She didn't hit the high notes that she was supposed to hit at all and she was sort of getting all over the place. This week was no improvement. It wasn't as horrible as last week in terms of technique but her performance was so boring I felt my eyes drooping. I think it is about time Megan Joy goes home. I will miss her spunk when she's gone, though.

Matt Giraud also was a disappointment. He decided to go the alternative route this week, taking on The Fray's "You Found Me." That brought me back to the first week when he performed a Coldplay song which was not good. I don't like it at all when Matt starts snarling because he sounds much better when he's all smooth and suave. He sounded A LOT like the original and that, for me, took some points off him.

Now that leaves me with my "top" 3 - Danny Gokey, Adam Lambert and Kris Allen.

Danny didn't deviate so much from The Temptations' original version of "Get Ready" last week. Neither did he sneak in his signature runs - or do anything radically different - in his rendition of Rascal Flatt's "What Hurts the Most" this week. But what made his performance endearing was just the right blend of emotion and power which he injected into the song. He did veer off-key about twice in the course of the song but he more than made up for it. With his unique tone, he was able to make the song his own. I think he should take one week off the power hook and just croon to one sentimental ballad with all vulnerability.

Adam was, in two words, a showman. I love Adam better when he's soft and subdued (like I previously mentioned, his "Tracks of My Tears" performance was simply beautiful). This week, he chose Wild Cherry's "Play That Funky Music." Joey texted me, "Why is it that it's okay when Adam Lambert gets indulgent?" Maybe, that's because that's when he's most entertaining. Not his best but entertaining. I would prefer that he left his histrionics to the dressing room but I guess since people know he's a theater dude (he was understudy for Fiyero in LA's production of "Wicked"), they allow him to be flamboyant. I just need to turn the volume down a bit low lest my eardrums explode. But over all, I really did enjoy watching him work up the stage.

The night did not end without seeing me become a Kris Allen convert. I seriously doubted the abilities of this worship leader from Arkansas in the initial stage of the competition, but tonight, he really showed his prowess with "Ain't No Sunshine". The arrangement was perfect and his performance was equally great. He is not as vocally gifted as my other top contenders but he picks songs which best show his abilities.

The Special Jam

Sat, 28 Mar 2009 05:42:23 GMT

    Once upon a time, in a blue planet called Earth, there was a tiny, nose-shaped island somewhere in the Pacific. On that tiny, nose-shaped island was a city criscrossed by a river. Somewhere near that river was a house with a white roof, stone walls and a 30-year old tree which stood by its lonesome in the front yard. Somewhere inside that house, there lived a little girl.

    This little girl loved to do so many things. She played her little wonky-tonky piano. She climbed the huge tree in the garden. She made an obstacle course out of old tires and string. She dug a hole in the front yard, hoping to get to Brazil. She dug another hole on another side of the yard with hopes of finding a velociraptor fossil. She made mud pies and topped them with flowers. She washed her socks near the water pump in the garden. She sang lullabies. She flew paper planes with secret messages hidden under the flaps. But above all this, there was one thing which topped the little girl's list of things to do. She absolutely loved to eat.

    The little girl's father was an excellent cook. In fact, he was a wizard in the kitchen. No one else in the city criscrossed by the river, in the nose-shaped island somewhere in the Pacific, in the blue planet called Earth was as skilled in the culinary arts as the little girl's father. He made sunny-side ups with ketchup smilies and mouth-watering shepherd's pie. His fish-and-chips was a mealtime winner as well as his trademark macaroni-and-cheese. The steamed rice was always fragrant and the vegetable dumplings were crunchy. The roasted chicken was a runaway hit as much as the fresh salad. The mashed potatoes were always warm and drowning in gravy and the cheesecake and chocolate-chip cookies were sweet and soft.

    But the little girl's father made one farely simple meal which his daughter absolutely loved above all the fancy meals he made - toast with butter and his special home-made jam. No one else in the city criscrossed by the river, in the nose-shaped island somewhere in the Pacific, in the blue planet called Earth made jam like this. The little girl usually had her sweet snack a couple of hours before noon, just around mid-day when she was in the middle of her front yard activities. Her father would call out her name and when he did, she would drop whatever was in her hands to rush inside the house and enjoy her snack. The toast was brown and crisp. The butter was soft and warm but the jam was the best. The sweetness was not too strong for the palate and the jam had a fruity-creamy taste to it which went absolutely well with the toast and butter. The jam and the butter were generously spread all over the toast that the filling would sometimes drip beyond the bread and onto the plate where it usually sat.

    Day in and day out, the routine proceeded as such. The little girl went through her daily activities in the front yard while her father would keep an eye on her while doing his own brand of magic in the kitchen. By midday, he would call out to her for their quick snack together and she would rush in and sit beside him as she licked her fingers clean of her favorite toast, butter and jam ensemble. Day in and day out, morning till night, that was the life of the little girl and her father who lived in a house in the city criscrossed by the river nestled in a nose-shaped island somewhere in the Pacific on the blue planet called Earth.

    One day, the little girl woke up as usual and walked to the front yard for her usual daytime activities. She brought out her tiny tin box filled with small, plastic soldiers smartly dressed in their red coats and fur hats. She arranged her mini army in flanks and ranks and brought out her little bugle so she could play some form of battle music for her plastic troops. She was so engrossed in her work when she realized that it was already past midday and her father had not yet called her in for their snack of toast, butter and jam. Puzzled, she ran to the kitchen and found him there, emerging flushed from the oven as he took out freshly baked loaves of bread.

    "Papa," she said. "It's midday. Are we not going to have our snack?"

    Her father smiled at her and answered, "I thought we ought to try something different today. I was thinking you were getting a little pudgy," he answered with a tease. "But if you're hungry," he added, "we can have the toast now."

    The little girl bit her lip and thought to herself. She did not think she was as pudgy as her father hinted she was becoming but she realized she wasn't that hungry yet anyway. Besides, while building her mini version of the battle of Waterloo, she had a bright idea of constructing a make-believe town out of her dolls and other toys just a few meters away from the "battlefield." That ought to give the entire setup a more realistic feel.

    "I'm not hungry," she declared. "We can have the toast later, Papa. Thank you." With that she skipped back to her front yard while her father shot a quick glance at her retreating form.

    She sat down on the grass and arranged her dollhouse on one side of the garden, a few feet away from the battlefield. She made pinwheels out of plastic and paper and moved some pots of plants and flowers into her little town center. She placed her dolls in various positions and scattered small branches and twigs in a make-believe park. She made mini-skyscrapers out of matchboxes. She shook beetles from the leaves of the tree, tied up their wings and placed them on the little town center as overweight horses.

    Morning sped into noontime and the little girl continued with her work, not even noticing the noonday heat pierce through her red dress. She blew into her little bugle and the mock battle proceeded. The enemies were defeated and the little town and its horse-beetles were declared safe from the invaders. All was well in the front yard.

    Except, that is, for the little girl's stomach.

    It was now rumbling and grumbling, as if a herd of buffaloes went on a stampede inside her tummy. She glanced up at the sky and saw that it was blue bordering on orange, indicating it must be pushing into late afternoon. She wondered where her father was and what on earth he was doing.

    As if he were reading her thoughts, her father called out her name and said "Snacktime!"

    She abandoned her little town and sped to the table like a bullet to have her long overdue meal. She found her father sitting on the table with the toast on a plate and she rushed to her chair.

    "I thought I was never gonna have one of the--" she began to say as she climbed into her chair. She stopped midway and stared at the toast sitting on the plate on top of the table. She looked up to her father with eyes full of bewilderment and then she frowned.

    Her father again read her mind perfectly. He inhaled slowly and said gently, "That's the different thing I wanted to try today."

    The toast was warm and the scent of the bread with butter and jam was unmistakeably familiar. But this time, the butter and jam filling was almost invisible. In fact, it only occupied a small section of the toast, right on the center of it, like a ballerina in the middle of an otherwise empty stage.

    "But I'm not pudgy," she began to protest.

    "I know," her father answered. "But that's all you're gonna have today."

    "Why?" the little girl asked as her eyes began to brim with tears and her stomach continued to roar in rage.

    "Just eat," her father said calmly and pushed the plate towards her.

    She knew better than to protest or whine. She reached out for the piece of toast and stole another glance at her father. His answer to her silent plea was "Go on, eat."

    She exhaled sharply and began to nibble at the bread. It was warm and crisp like before but without the jam and the butter, it did taste a bit flat. But she was hungry and she needed to quell the revolt that was now being staged by her gastric system. She sighed and continued to chew. She was so eager to get to the center but realized she ought to save the best part - the section of the bread with the oozing chunk of butter and the sweet jam - for last. So she bit and chewed and nibbled at the toast - right, left, small chunks here, bigger chunks there. She carefully worked her way around the areas without the butter and the jam, ignoring the clamor for the sweetness and the creaminess. All the while, her father sat on his chair, watching her.

    Finally all she had left was the remainder of the piece of toast with the jam and the butter on top of it. She stared at it, as if it were cherry on top of a cake. She turned to look at her father who gave her a small smile.

    "Do you promise we won't have to do this again tomorrow?" she asked hopefully.

    Her father looked at her with quiet gentleness. He brushed back a stray strand of hair which had fallen out of place from her ponytail and his hand finally lingered on her face.

    "I can't make that promise, I'm sorry," he answered. "That's the last of my special jam."

    Her eyes widened with surprise. No more of her favorite jam? No more of that special sweet concoction which was the only one of its kind in the city criscrossed by the river, in the nose-shaped island somewhere in the Pacific, in the blue planet called Earth? This cannot be happening!

    "Well you can make more, can't you? You always have," she pleaded through tears which now refused to stop flowing from her eyes.

    Her father shook his head slowly but he never took his eyes away from her. "I'm not making the special jam anymore."

    She placed the remnant of the toast on her plate and began to cry. How was she to go through each day without her special snack of toast with butter and her father's special jam? It was what she looked forward to every morning, after a long day in the front yard with her dolls, her soldiers, her mudpies and her beetles.

    The little girl felt her father's hand on her shoulder and she heard him whisper "I think you need to eat your toast now. The butter is melting."

    She took another glance at her father. His eyes still had that quiet gentleness but were themselves brimming with tears. He gave her a small, quiet smile as he wiped her face. "Go on, eat it. Eat it, my child," he prodded.

    Struggling with her fingers, she picked up the remnant of the toast, closed her eyes and made her first bite. Her teeth sank on the warmth of the bread, the softness of the butter, the sweetness of the jam. The creaminess was beyond what she remembered. The jam was subtle in its sweetness but it had never tasted as delicious as this before. The toast all of a sudden acquired new life with the butter and jam. As she chewed, she remembered the sound of her father's voice calling her, the waft of baked bread from the kitchen, the slurping sound she and her father made as they both licked their fingers clean after the meal, their hearty laughter as they bit into their favorite midday snack.

    The toast was gone a little bit too soon. The little girl brushed the bread crumbs off her dress. Even if she was full, she felt hollow somewhere inside as if she had swallowed chunks of air which left her feeling bloated. That was it. With one bite, the last piece of toast with butter and her favorite special jam had disappeared, never to be seen or tasted again in the city criscrossed by the river, in the nose-shaped island somewhere in the Pacific, in the blue planet called Earth. The sweetness left a sting on her tongue.

    She blinked back tears as she clambered off her chair. Her father watched her patiently. "Are you going back to the yard?" he asked.

    She knew she ought to go back. Dusk should come in a while and it looked like it might rain. She needed to untie the beetles and allow them to crawl back to the tree. The dolls were probably getting dirtier by the minute and the little plastic soldiers were scattered all over the yard.

    Instead she walked up to her father, clambered into his lap and began to cry as he enfolded her in his arms.

    Rain began to fall on the white roof of the house with stone walls in the city criscrossed by the river, nestled in the nose-shaped island somewhere in the Pacific, in the blue planet called Earth.

Note:
Thanks to my friend Bannanna for introducing me to Kopiroti's Kaya toast (the progenitor of the toast-with-butter-and-jam concoction in this story). It's really great comfort food, especially at a time when the heart is overcome by what author William Young has called the Great Sadness. It also goes well with a mug of milk tea! A quick shout-out to Bananna's boyfriend Marbs whose weird/unique manner of eating Kaya toast is illustrated in this story.

All's Well in Opry

Wed, 18 Mar 2009 16:07:33 GMT

    Aside from Christmas and my birthday month, the period from March to around May is another time of year that I look forward to because it's American Idol season. I started watching the show since the first season, got interested in the third season because of Jasmine Trias and Camille Velasco but really got hooked into it in the fourth season (where I cheered for Bo Bice and Carrie Underwood and daydreamed about Constantine Maroulis). My favorite season would have to be season 5 where I was practically nuts about more than two contestants namely, Kevin Covais (yes, I found him irresistible), Katharine McPhee, Chris Daughtry, eventual king Taylor Hicks and my season favorite Elliott Yamin. Last season started off rather slow for me as I found David Cook and David Archuleta way too talented for the other people in the competition so I did not mind missing a couple of weeks of the show. In the end though, I did rejoice when David Cook was proclaimed winner and it was only recently that I replaced "Always Be My Baby" as my phone's call alert.

   Tonight was the second batch of performances for the Top 11 contestants in the show's eigth season. This season is fast climbing my own charts as a favorite because of the vast amount of talent which was conspicuously absent last season (and the season before that) along with season eight's huge dose of diversity. In the past, when I download MP3 performances of my favorites, it usually involves four singers tops. Now my regular download list consists of eight people, in my order of preference - Danny Gokey, Adam Lambert, Anoop Desai, Allison Iraheta, Scott MacIntyre, Lil Rounds, Alexis Grace and Megan Joy. But then I download more than eight files when there are good performances from the others who are not in my list.

   Take Grand Opry Night for instance. I actually downloaded the MP3s of all the performances because aside from my regular list, I loved the remaining three. After all, the performances were not as bad as Michael Jackson week which saw Jasmine Murray and Jorge Nunez bid the show farewell. What I find more interesting is that my favorites did not shine tonight as much as the ones I usually ignored did.

   I was fairly disappointed with Lil Rounds for starters because I really felt like she was holding back and it really affected the way she sang "Independence Day". And the comparison with Carrie Underwood's performance of the Martina McBride song in season 4 was inevitable. She unfortunately fell flat.

   Another disappointment was Alexis Grace's rendition of "Jolene." For some reason, I liked Brooke White's version last season better because it was more relaxed and laid back and it seemed to me that Alexis did not look as comfortable as she did when she sang "Never Loved a Man" about four weeks ago.

   Allison Iraheta did not disappoint as usual but she was not all "wow" for me tonight. The same comment goes for Scott MacIntyre with his rendition of "Wild Angels". However I am a huge fan of both their voices, especially Scott who has this ability to establish a connection with his audience despite the fact that he cannot do "goo goo eyes" with the camera ala Jason Castro (sorry Joey!). Megan Joy was still unique and interesting when she sang "Walking After Midnight" and I think her bluesy sound will carry her through this week.

   My top two favorites did not shine so much tonight as they did last week. After all when the Grand Opry theme was announced, I wondered how these two would hold up. Adam Lambert was...well, he rendered me tongue-tied. The entire Middle Eastern, sitar-infused, Muse-meets-Nine Inch Nails version of Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" was verging on that little grey area between strange, funny and creepy. I sat on the couch with one half of my body cringing/recoiling and the other half suffering from seizure because of endless fits of laughter. After his performance, my mother called me to ask what I liked in the guy "with a manicure." Very funny, mom. No matter what Adam does though, he is still very entertaining and his range is unbelievable. He was not as manic when it came to his vocals this week when compared to his almost screamfest version of "Black and White" and his theatrics did work out for me to some extent.

   Danny Gokey also proved he was not superhuman tonight. The army of Danny haters are probably celebrating with cheese and champagne tonight so I let them be. "Jesus, Take the Wheel" is one of my favorite songs but is signature Carrie Underwood so that anyone else who sings it usually pales in comparison to the original. Danny did not actually go cyanotic but the first half of the song made me realize how much he needs to work on his low notes, especially in terms of the fluidity and support. But when the chorus swelled, I knew I had the guy I loved back even if he did resemble a polar bear tonight. To all the people who think he was screaming the chorus to smithereens, maybe the volume of your TV sets are set too high. It is called swelling and soul, ladies and gentlemen. So I call out to Joey and Kiyo, if ever you guys read this, I am not biased when it comes to Danny Gokey even if you think so.

   I admit though that my real bias rests in Anoop Desai, the college student from Chapel Hill who physically resembles Slumdog Millionaire's Dev Pattel. This bias I share with my fellow Idol freak Joey. Anoop totally crashed big time in Michael Jackson week and I wanted to pull him offstage while he was dancing about with his collar raised. In class today, I told Mini I was hoping Anoop makes it and she answered something like "But he's so bad." I replied "I know but he's so cute." But tonight, he certainly proved he deserved his place in the Top 11 with his beautiful, soulful, soaring rendition of "Always On My Mind." I actually couldn't stop myself from swooning!

   Matt Giraud and Kris Allen do not really rank among my favorites. I dismiss Kris as this year's Jason Castro or Ace Young with loads more talent and I love to tease his fans in my class that he sings with his jaw unhinged. But tonight, I loved his vulnerability as he sang "To Make You Feel My Love" sans his guitar. To my surprise, I realized he actually has a very nice, soothing voice and I concede that my comparisons to Jason Castro and Ace Young are misplaced.

   Matt was also a pleasant surprise. He took on another Carrie Underwood song and I have to say, his slower version scored more points for me than the original. He stripped the song down to its very core with his beautiful voice and brought it to new heights at just the right point. I am not sure if he did outsing Danny as Simon claimed but I sure cannot wait to hear the studio version.

   Who do I think is going home, as if my opinion matters? But then let me pretend I could control "Idol" for a moment now. I think roughneck Michael Sarver is going home...even if I like him also and he seems like a really nice guy and a cool dad at that. He gave the weakest performance tonight and he did not really stand out. But to his credit, I really love replaying his R&B, full-bodied version of "You Are Not Alone" for some reason, especially when I'm stuck in traffic.

Insignificant

Fri, 20 Feb 2009 17:40:26 GMT

"Today this could be the greatest day of our lives...
Let's make a new start...
Before we run out of time...
And the world comes alive..."
- "Greatest Day," Take That

Prelude to February 20

   The minute I woke up at 8 a.m. today, I had every reason to end my day tired, worn-out and up-to-my-hair-roots harassed. The night before, I had fallen asleep while studying for my MedJur exam. The last thing I remember was lying on my bed. After about a while, I found myself flat on my pillow. I turned to check the clock and I realized it was 3 in the morning. I had spent the last two hours lying on the reviewer my friend Cha made. So much for the fables surrounding paper-to-brain osmosis! I panicked and resumed studying until 5 a.m. when I realized I couldn't keep my eyes open. As I switched the light off, I swore to myself I would never do that again.

Preliminaries

   For the past week-and-a-half, the first thing I do when I walk out of my room is to make a phone call to someone in a hospital room. "Hi Lolo," I greet him. "How are you feeling today?"

   There are good days and the not-so-good days. The past couple of days would fall under the latter category. My morning surprise came in the form of his cheery voice when he said "Good morning!" So today was apparently a good day. I asked him how he was doing and he excitedly related to me how he was able to get a pass from his doctor to go home even if it was just for half the day. I asked him why and his answer made me laugh: "I miss Sam." Sam, ladies and gentlemen, is my grandfather's dog. "They wouldn't let me bring him to the hospita." Now with a dog like Sam who doesn't bite except when you're within a two-meter radius of my grandfather, that was a bad idea.

   I grabbed my phone off the dresser as I raced to the bathroom. I was meeting up with my classmates in the university post office by 10 a.m. for a class assignment. As I looked at the screen, I noticed a small warning which came up. The warning said "Memory full." Arrrrgh! My phone, like most Nokia N-series units, has this memory problem which strikes at any given time. And today was another one of those days. Drat! The worst part was that although I could usually fix it, this time it didn't seem to be the case. I couldn't even delete anything without it saying "Not enough memory to do the operation." ARRRRGGGHH! I was gonna be late for my 10 a.m. appointment! So I called my classmates and asked them to move the meeting time an hour later. I tried to work around the phone and later I got desperate so I plugged it into my computer. As I played around with the folders, I realized that two music files found their way to a folder in the phone memory. The files were barely 5MB in total but I had a feeling they acted like a memory plug, sort of like a cork stuck to an inverted wine bottle. So I erased the two files and lo and behold! My alleged 9kb of free memory leapt to 35MB! The genie has been released from the lamp!

   Maybe that genie was the happy genie.

Post Office

   I got to school by 11 o'clock. I parked near the university grocery and walked towards the post office. This class exercise was out to get us how to use the registered mail system for sending ("filing" to the Court and "serving" to the opposite party) pleadings. Inside the post office were my classmates and the rest of the people in the class.

   To be honest about it, it was only my second time to send anything through the post office. When I was younger, I used to send letters through my mother's office messenger. In this day and age of email, the opportunities to sing that Karen Carpenter classic were almost verging on extinction. But still, when the lady behind the counter swirled the envelope around some sort of machine for the stamp, we all went "Nice!" It was hilarious but we were actually being wowed by the technology of yesterday! We happily filled out the pink registry cards and paid the postage. The lady behind the counter was getting cranky and was half-screaming at us, telling us to hurry up because it was break time. I didn't hear her but I did note the wall clock said "11:30." Maybe it was the old-timer feel or the sound of papers being shuffled or the sight of glue being swatched on envelopes. Although there was nothing significant or difference about the goings-on inside the post office, I found myself smiling.

Food

   Before heading back to the college, Cha and Anton had a hankering for fruit shake in a stall near the post office. I walked with them and waited as they made their selection. When they went inside to pay, I stood outside with my half my face exposed to the sweltering heat of the sun. I watched as more people lined up to buy shakes - mango-banana, strawberry-mango, watermelon...all kinds of permutations of fruits. Someone beside me was crushing ice. The blenders started to make more whirring sounds. I stared at the strawberries. Maybe it was the coolness of the crushed ice beside me or the sight of the strawberries or the whirring. Although there was nothing significant about the goings-on in that stall, I found myself smiling.

More Food

   Cha and I went upstairs to our Genders classroom to start studying. After about half an hour, my tummy started to rumble and I began to regret not buying myself that shake. I took some money and walked out of the college building towards the library, heading for one of my favorite food joints in school which served pasta, pizza and chicken. There were a lot of students crowding around the stall. I ordered pasta in mushroom sauce and chicken and sat down on a concrete bench and started to read. More people started coming and the empty spaces on my left and right side were soon occupied. The heat of the noonday sun was turning my back into a waterfall. The smell of pancit canton filled the air. I continued to read about stuff like "True Victorian Love" and writers' other name games until I got my order. I walked back to my college building and took the stairs to my classroom. Cha was still reading when I sat on my chair and started eating. Maybe it was the coolness of the room after a relatively long walk in the noonday sun or the smell of chicken with mushrooms. Although there was nothing significant about the goings-on in that classrom (or in the way my pasta and chicken tasted), I found myself smiling.

   The rest of my day went by as planned - review with Cha and Dahlia by 4 p.m., class at 6 p.m., a sit-down exam by 8:30 p.m. Perhaps everybody's tongues were all a little too tired from all the memorizing and it was easy to start mispronouncing words and names - like "ibidence," "fillure" and "Pascuashio," for instance. For three hours in class, we talked about fistullas, cholycystecomies, cyanosis, curretage and all other words which we don't meet in a legal dictionary. My classmate Chris even sounded like a medical student as he rattled on about typhoid fever and antibiotics...and our teacher noticed. Maybe it was the occasional laughter or the slight nervousness as we flipped from page to page of our notes. Although there was nothing significant about the goings on in that class - except perhaps for Chris yakking about Chloromycetin and antipyretics in one breath without getting his tongue twisted - I found myself smiling.

Calling it a Day

   Today was my regular run-of-the-mill day. Nothing significant or nothing momentous happened...except perhaps when I availed of cheaper gas along Commonwealth Avenue (a seven peso difference from the gas station near the place where I live) which gave me a full tank at a much lesser cost. I'm still hungry as I type this and I downed my last Oreo last night and I'm too lazy to walk across the street to go to the convenience store.

   Maybe the universe just conspired to give me a shot of endorphines for today.

   Maybe the band of killjoys are out on vacation.

    Or maybe, just maybe, I am getting good at letting go - and that's why I'm smiling.

Bowled Over by Down Under

Thu, 12 Feb 2009 15:35:36 GMT

    "Marley and Me."

   I frowned at my sister. We were standing in front of the ticket booth in Glorietta, trying to decide what flick to see when we chose to drop by the cinema on impulse. After all, we had both been itching to watch a decent movie for the past three weeks in order to block out the recurring images of Tanging Ina in our heads but our weekends were always full.

   "Noooo!" I protested. The last three weeks have been really artery-stretching in terms of stress and this particular Saturday was no exception, especially when you get called on to recite with absolutely nothing in your hands except the warm, smooth feel of the surface of a wooden desk in contrast to your cold, clammy palms.

"I wanna see Australia," I declared. After all, even if the Marley puppy is really cute, the goo goo eyes do not even have a sliver of a chance against one of my biggest crushes in the world in terms of stress relief. After much cajoling, she did give up on her puppy love and needless to say, when the end credits to "Australia" started rolling up the screen, she got much more than she bargained for in terms of the animal kingdom.

   Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman both headline Baz Luhrmann's Australia. The title is practically a give away if the actors don't do the job. Nicole Kidman is Lady Sarah Ashley, an English aristocrat as formal as her thoroughbreds. Her husband owns and manages a cattle ranch calle Faraway Downs in the Land Down Under. She flies to Australia to be with Lord Ashley and is met by Drover (Jackman), a man who works for her husband in the ranch on a commission basis and vaguely reminds me of a buffer, way better looking version of Aragorn. After enduring a long, dusty ride through Australia's unforgiving terrain (where she has her first brush with a kangaroo both in action and in death), she finds her lifeless husband lying on the kitchen table in Faraway Downs, allegedly skewered with a spear by an aborigine nicknamed "King George." Sarah is introduced to the hired help in Faraway Downs - among them an alcoholic accountant, an Asian cook, an aborigine woman and her daughter and Faraway Downs' cattle manager named Fletcher (David Wenham of The Lord of the Rings, 300). Fletcher has apparently fathered a child with the aborigine woman's daughter, an intelligent little boy named Nullah who is actually the grandson of "King George." Nullah is labelled by the Caucasians as one of the "creams," a derogatory term used to refer to the "stolen generations," a growing population of children of aborigine women sired by white men. Such children are usually taken away from their mothers and brought to "mission centers" where they supposedly are educated and cared for.

   Through Nullah's stories, Sarah discovers that Fletcher also works for Carney (Bryan Brown of The Thornbirds), her husband's rival in the cattle business and Australia's biggest supplier of beef. Fletcher had been secretly transporting some of the cattle to Carney's ranch and had also tricked Lord Ashley to believe that Faraway Downs was operating at a loss. She fires Fletcher but is left with no one to help her with the cattle. To bring in money for Faraway Downs, she has to deliver the cattle to Darwin for loading to a ship. She turns to Drover who, at first, turns her down as he supposedly hates being tied down to anything or anyone. But then a man can change his mind when the price is right...which, in this case, came in the form of Sarah's prized capricorn.

   After journeying through the desert with a lot of setbacks in the form of bushfires, stampedes and poisoned water courtesy of Fletcher's sinister mind, Sarah manages to make her delivery. Throughout her ordeal, she forms an extraordinarily strong bond with Nullah and falls in love with Drover (come on, who wouldn't?). She seems to have settled in Faraway Downs in an almost idyllic, slow mo-perfect fairytale ending with the flowers and the white-washed house but Fletcher persistenyly snaps at their heels as he schemes to acquire the cattle ranch. As if that were enough and with the second world war brewing above their heads like the dust in the Australian outback, Sarah realizes she could be losing more than just Faraway Downs as Nullah yearns to be with his grandfather to learn his heritage through a coming-of-age ceremony called a walkabout and Drover still battles with commitment and settling down. And, as they say, commitment used to be the good guy.

   Clocking in at almost 3 hours, Australia is not a pain to watch. The storyline was, for starters, pretty simple and straightforward. With the brain functions set aside, it was relatively easy to be swept away with the film, thanks to its epic-like appeal and old Hollywood glamour. As usual, Baz Luhrmann did not disappoint. Australia stands out like a white dress in a rack of red when compared to his earlier works as it actually attempts to be normal in the sense that there is a near-absence of Luhrmann's theatrics and exaggeration. But Luhrmann still manages to be grand and ostentatious despite the seeming normalcy with his breathtaking cinematography which he perfectly couples with his signature slow-mos and close-ups. The action, drama and romance are all so real, I almost felt like I were part of the movie. I loved his shots of the horses whipping up dust in the outback as they ran around Faraway Downs, the shots of of Sarah, Drover and company as they steered the cattle through the outback, the aerial shots of the cattle stampede during the bushfire in the cliff and the last shot toward the end of the film where Drover's small boat with the white sails carrying the half-aborigine, half-Caucasian children cuts through thick smoke and a mass of charred ships. To really hit the nail on the head, the cinematic experience of watching Austrlia is further enhanced by a rich musical score punctuated by occasional aborigine chanting, giving the film that swell that comes with the approach of the tide.

    Nicole Kidman is engaging as Sarah. One notes her character's subtle development as she starts off as a distant, well-bred aristocrat thrust into the wild, untamed world of the Australian outback and later evolves into a woman who finds her own strength but never loses her heart. The first half or so of the movie is bursting with her seeming endless supply of faux pas as she glares and gloats at Jackman, sings a jumbled, operetta version of "Over the Rainbow" in terms of both lyrics and notes and attempts to do telekinesis on cows. What I love about her character is that she is not melodramatic. She is deeply hurt when Drover walks out of her life and is heartbroken when Nullah is taken away from her and yet she remains in complete control of herself and her pain. I was so thankful she didn't hurl herself at pillows or pound at the wall like a human hammer.

Hugh Jackman was not new to the scruffy-looking, sweaty, tanned character that was the Drover. He always fits such roles to a T and the predictability was not necessarily a liability as far as he was concerned...but then again, I profess I am biased. The screen could almost spontaneously combust everytime he came up, whether he appears with or without facial hair. In one particular scene which featured a missions ball in Darwin which Sarah attended, it became pretty easy to identify all the girls in the theater. In almost all movies where a scene involves a prom, a party or a ball of sorts, the girl always makes the grand entrance ala Cinderella. In this movie, the roles are switched as the limelight falls on a clean-shaved, slick Hugh Jackman in a white suit. My sister started wriggling like a glow worm and pinching me like crazy. I myself almost yanked the armrest off from being swoony when I realized that a buzz had started in the theater and all the other females were also doing their own versions of pinching, punching, silent screaming and, yes, armrest-wrenching. Jackman's scenes with Kidman were always tender and heartfelt and they never seemed over-extended or mushy.

The runaway scene stealer though was Nullah (Brandon Walters). He had beautiful, soulful eyes which lent Nullah sensitivity, intelligence and a dash of mischievousness every now and then. To me, Nullah's character was a pillar in the movie as a spine is to a book. His mixed heritage pretty much indicated how he both belonged to the country of his ancestors and the new world which the Caucasian settlers brought with them. He loved his aboriginal predecessors but also shared a strong bond with Sarah and Drover. Among all the characters in the movie, he had the best lines, the most memorable being "I'll sing you to me" which always left me feeling like I was shot in the heart or something.

Addendum: The song which plays as the credits roll in the end is really nice. It's called "By the Boab Tree" by Angela Little.

Happy Thoughts

Sun, 08 Feb 2009 09:49:56 GMT

    Ever since I started law school, I made a resolve not to dwell on anything negative which comes my way - the insults, the difficulties, the setbacks, the bouts of depression and the occasional perception of being the lowest protozoan in the face of the planet. That mindset has since extended to matters of sadness beyond law school and no matter how much my fingers are itching right now, I am not going to write about things which make are a little too heavy to carry for the pounding little muscle that is called my heart. After all, a bit of offloading was done when I succumbed to my urge to cry over my lunch plate of chicken inasal and garlic rice (I decided to skip an extra helping since I've been guilty of overeating lately) which, ironically, is probably one of the best reminders of a place called home.

   Instead, I will write about the good things which make me smile and give me reasons to look at tomorrow as a new day and not a new burden. After all, one of my favorite songs to sing as a child was Favorite Things and a line from that classic goes "I simply remember my favorite things and then I don't feel so bad." No, I won't be writing about raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. But,yes, I'll spare our drapes from an instant execution because aside from the fact that they're dusty and heavy, my mother is going to launder me if I do anything to them.

   Last Thursday (February 5), my grandmother and namesake celebrated her 80th birthday. It was not practical to make preparations for a huge party because of my grandfather's delicate state with us not knowing when his next landing in the hospital will be. Actually the nurses have been wonderfully humorous about it, calling him a "balikbayan" whenever he gets wheeled in. Aside from my grandfather's unpredictable hospital visits, the birthday girl herself actually hates huge parties. She would rather have small, intimate gatherings with family and close friends instead of something that involves a lot of lace and tulle.

    So that was exactly what my Lola got on the day she turned 80 - a surprise birthday party which started with a thanksgiving service in our garage followed by dinner and capped with my grandparents huddled inside my room with my cousins, nephews and nieces as their ever-bibo great-grandchildren rendered an impromptu concert on the videoke microphone (and my TV's screen is, well, the cutest in our house).

The fact that I missed out on all the fun stuck out like a sore thumb and I really felt wretched as I walked from my first class to the next. I consoled myself with the thought that I wasn't the only one absent - my sister was here, Manang Apple and Manang Maya were both working abroad whereas Aiyee was on hospital duty. I dialled the house number immediately when I got home at 7:30 p.m. After about thirty minutes of talking to a very excited Aidagere (who began and ended every sentence with a "Manang!"), the phone was finally passed to my grandmother. She was laughing and sounded extremely excited on the phone, telling me how she was having so much fun...that it was great to have her daughter and three sons together...that almost all of her children and grandchildren were there...how my nephew Dane bit my cousin Lance in the middle of their dance number...that my room was now a complete mess...and she continued to laugh some more. I asked her what made her 80th birthday really special and she answered "Nothing really. It's just that everybody's here. I'm really having so much. Ka-sadya sadya guid tana!"

The day after (February 6), my cousin Aida Raissa turned 20. She had a Hawaiian-themed party Saturday night in our cousin Carol's house which everybody also attended, except for the abovementioned perennial absentees. Aiyee was pretty in her flower-print dress and I still can't believe she's grown up (and graduating so soon at that).

Birthday girl Aiyee (right) with Carol

Maybe my grandmother was still in party mood or something because, to the surprise of my mother, she joined all the "young ones" in dressing up like a Hawaiian island girl, complete with a garland of yellow blossoms around her neck and another flower stuck behind her ear, all freshly plucked from her garden.

And she didn't end there! She also went as far as dressing up my grandfather like Lito Atienza in a Hawaiian-themed shirt. And how did my grandfather like it? Well his face pretty much sums up how silly he felt but he seemed to have forgotten all about his getup when he got the chance to have a quick dance with the birthday celebrator.

2008 in a Nutshell

Sat, 17 Jan 2009 15:51:56 GMT

What did you do in 2008 that you'd never done before?
1. Have a baby elephant massage my back
2. Get involved in my first ever car accident when a jeepney collided with the SUV I was driving head-on. The first thought I had after the jeep crashed into my bumper was "Darn! I'm gonna be late for class!" :) After that my next concern went something like "And I just cleaned the car!"

Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I did keep some of them but I need to work on the others, like doing less procrastinating. I started learning how to do some cooking and I continue to work on my Hiligaynon by translating songs from English to the vernacular. But yes, I made more for 2009.

Did anyone close to you give birth?
My cousin Cheryl gave birth to her first baby boy Garrick Marcus and my best friend Doi is new mommy to Sariah Beatrice. And although he didn't exactly give birth, my cousin Ramboy is papa to Tyler.

The baby with so many names: Saraiah Beatrice a.k.a Volta a.k.a Betty

Did anyone close to you die?
In 2007, we lost our old, old, really old dog Nicky :( She was twelve years old when she died. My family and I also said goodbye to Pastor Rudy Acosta who was a very good friend to my family and a mentor to so many people. Rev. Kevin Alamag and his wife Ate Belle of GCF Ortigas also went home to be with the Lord this year.

Nicky with Aidagere and me when she was alive and well.

What countries did you visit in 2008?
Malaysia, Brunei and Thailand

What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
A Macbook? In my dreams!
Well I wish I'd have a lot more courage and faith in 2009 than I had last year.
What date from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
July 2008 - as they say, there's always a first time for everything.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?
For the mundane, cooking Christmas dinner...rather, helping with Christmas dinner. Every difficult thing I encountered in 2008 was big and the fact that I got through them, scraped knees and all, was already an achievement for me.

What was your biggest failure?
Everything my family I went through this year, all the hits and misses, everything was a learning experience.

Did you suffer illness or injury?
Just occasional bouts of stomach flu, especially when I ate a little too much.
What was the best thing you bought?
Toss up between a black hoodie to replace the one I lost in a taxicab two years ago and Take That's Beautiful World DVD which has given me countless hours of listening and viewing pleasure.

Whose behavior merited celebration?
Jun Lozada

Jun Lozada and the unforgettable headline

Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
A lot of Filipino politicians.

Where did most of your money go?
Photocopying expenses for cases!

What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella coming to life on stage! Lea Salonga did not disappoint (as usual) and it turned out to be one magical evening. I saw the Leslie Carone and Brandy versions years before and I loved all the songs. I wish Paolo Montalban played Prince Christopher though!

What song(s) will always remind you of 2008?
Take That's Back for Good and David Cook's Always Be My Baby

Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? --
I've always believed happiness is a choice and I choose to be happy because I have every reason to be such.
ii. thinner or fatter? --
I gained weight over the summer...and then I lost weight during the latter part of the year. Which means that I weigh the same.
iii. richer or poorer? --
Haha I saved more money this year than last year!

What do you wish you'd done more?
I wish I ran more and swam more. Swimming is so hard to do when you're living in a building like mine because you're in full view of the construction workers in the buildings around ours.

What do you wish you'd done less of?
Cry. I love a good cry but this year, I just bawled a lot more than the usual.

What was your favorite TV program?
Aside from American Idol and The Amazing Race, it would have to be Pushing Daisies! Lee Pace is soooo irresistible! Close runners-up would be Kahit Isang Saglit with Jericho Rosales and Carmen Soo and Chuck which always left me in stitches.

Lee Pace (with Anna Friel) in "Pushing Daisies" (top) was fun to watch. "Chuck" was downright
hilarious and "Kahit Isang Saglit" (bottom, right) made Pinoy primetime appealing.

Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Joc-joc Bolante. That guy's nerve is really beyond the ordinary, he should be in a museum or something.

What was the best book you read?
"A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini was a really beautiful book. It was a straightforward work but was nevertheless a heart tugger, more than "The Kite Runner" I daresay. Runners up would be the "Twilight" series (which made me swoon) and "The Shack" by William Young (which got me all pensive and introspective).

What was your greatest musical discovery?
Muse, Muse, Muse and this little boy who sang beautifully during Arn and Ruby's wedding! He sang a David Pomeranz song and though I don't really like David Pomeranz, I found myself clapping my palms off for this wonderful little boy.

What did you want and get?
A new member of the family in the form of a really silly yet intelligent dog named Aslan Marie.

What was your favorite film of this year?
Becoming Jane. I adopted a new habit this year in terms of Jane Austen movies. I watch Becoming Jane first and then follow it up with Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice.

What was the worst film you saw this year?
Don't Mess with the Zohan! This movie was so bad, I didn't even finish it. In fact, I don't think I even got beyond 1/4 of the movie. I thought it was gonna be something like Fifty First Dates which I enjoyed watching and it wasn't! I chucked the DVD straight to the trash bin. The jokes were crude and they weren't even funny.

What did you do on your birthday and how old were you?
I turned 25 in June. I was in my room, studying as usual but I had a post-birthday celebration with friends which doubled as a housewarming occasion.

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Definitely more sleep!

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
The slow death of the T-shirt. The opportunities for wearing my usual fare of round-neck cotton T-shirts gradually diminished, much to my dismay. My jeans are next on the chopping block. *cries heart out*

What kept you sane?
The Bible. If I didn't have my Bible, I wouldn't know what I'd do. God's word was my source of strength throughout the entire year.

Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Toss-up between James MacAvoy and Cate Blanchett in the Entertainment world and of course, Barack Obama in politics.

Cate Blanchett is brilliant, James MacAvoy elicits sighs and Barack Obama makes history.

What political issue stirred you the most?
Too many! Just thinking about it makes my blood boil but I guess it would have to be the ZTE controversy involving Jun Lozada. It is amazing how some people can lie with faces straighter than rebonded hair...and these are people who are expected to at least have some semblance of public integrity.

Who did you miss?
I missed Manang Apple a whole lot. But she did come home, even for just a short while and, as usual, I fetched her when she arrived and drove her to the airport when she left. I hope the next time she comes home, I won't ever have to drive her to the airport again. Manang Maya also left in the middle of the year and I do enjoy catching up with her on YM. My PINC sister Me-ann also left to work in the Middle East this year and GGs have not been the same without her. My cousin Star also left for Canada this year and we miss her just as much as (I know) she misses us.

(Left )With Manang Apple and Manang Maya in Boracay in 1991
(Right) Me-ann will be on vacation this year. That's something to look forward to.

Who was the best new person you met?
Technically, 2008 was not the first time I met Ate Carol but I got to know her a lot better this year, she being my discipler and all. I really value everything I have learned from her and I look forward to our discipleship sessions.

I also loved meeting the Filipino staff and crew of Superstar Gemini over the summer. These people are amazing - they're driven and hardworking and can smile and laugh even if they don't always feel like it. I wish they would all find their respective harbors very soon.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008:
You are not as strong as you think you are. You can nurse all sorts of illusions that you'll be fine when this happens or you'll react this way when that happens. The real test is when that possibility becomes reality - that's when you'll really know how low you can sink and how high you can bounce back.

What was the nicest thing someone told you about yourself:
A really nice "I love you" from my mom and dad. That was definitely more profound than all of Shakespeare.

The most touching experience you've had this year?
I felt like I connected with my friends in a different, much deeper way this year. I really valued every conversation I had with all of them.

But this year also made me realize how blessed I was to have such a loving and closely-knit family. These are the people who will really stand by you no matter what. Family members can hurt each other the deepest but among them, it is where forgiveness also runs endless like a spring and love is truly unconditional.

What did you like most about yourself this year?
I found a lot reasons to smile and I found myself opening up more to other people.

What did you hate most about yourself this year?
Well...I kept on telling myself I was okay when I actually wasn't. It was like as if I was stuck in a hole and I couldn't move on.

Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"You've got to get yourself together
You got stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it
Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

And if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if your way should falter
Along this stony pass

It's just a moment
This time will pass."
- U2, Stuck in a Moment

Was 2008 a good year for you?
A loud, resounding yes! 2008 was a very difficult year for me and my family but it was really one great year! It was definitely a year of God's faithfulness and provision.

What was your favorite moment of the year?
Kayaking with my parents in Thailand. My parents are the semi-outdoorsy type but they like hiking more than water activities. My sister and I enjoyed the rowing. We glided past beautiful rock formations and the sound of our oars lapping at the water was so relaxing. Then we turn around to find our parents waaaaaaay behind us, struggling with their oars.

What was your least favorite moment of the year?
All those times in the course of 2008 when my grandfather got sick. I never really liked hospitals and the smell of antiseptic....yech!

Where were you when 2008 began?
At home, as usual!

Who were you with?
With my parents, sister, grandparents and a bunch of family members.

Where will you be when 2008 ends?
Still at home!

Who will you be with when 2008 ends?
Still with the same people mentioned above. :) Not that I'm bored having them around all the time.

Do you have a new year's resolution for 2009?
To be a dutiful daughter/granddaughter, a reliable older sister, a dependable friend, a good example to my growing band of nephews and nieces and to be God's faithful servant.

What was your favorite month of 2008?
December 2008. I love Christmas and I love my family. :)

What was your favorite record from 2008?
Hmmm...the Mamma Mia soundtrack enjoyed countless replays in the car stereo. I always cracked up whenever Pierce Brosnon sang his part in "SOS." It sounded like he was in pain or something.

How many concerts did you see in 2008?
I did not get to attend any in 2008 BUT I did get to listen to one as it went on and on - the Rihanna and Chris Brown event in Taguig.

Did you drink a lot of alchohol in 2008?
No, except for the wine in the pasta we made for New Year.

Do a lot of drugs in 2008?
Well, paracetamol, Robitussin and antiobiotics. :)

You do anything you are ashamed of this year?
*sigh* Yes, as always.

How much money did you spend in 2008?
I don't count but I did not spend more than I ought to.

What was your proudest moment of 2008?
September 2008 - Walking away with a smile on my face and no anger in my heart.

What was your most embarrassing moment of 2008?
Hitting someone else's car because I was not paying attention. Enough said. *cringes* Good thing I didn't do any serious damage.

If you could go back in time to any moment of 2008 and change something, what would it be?
I'm stuck in this question...hmmm...I guess, April 2008. I wish I could go back and restart a conversation I had with my mother.

What are your plans for 2009?
I'm adopting a wait-and-see attitude, but still keeping my options open. I want to try getting some experience by working in a law firm or getting myself involved in a project which involves abused women and children, something that I have always wanted to to get into. I'm still looking for an opportunity to teach again.

How are you different now that the year has ended?
I am more grounded and more fulfilled. I endured lessons on humility and I certainly value my friendships a lot more.

What are your wishes for the new year?
2009 is going to be another rollercoaster of a year but I do wish that 2009 would be a year of marked change in this country. I hope I get to meet new people this year and I wish for health and love for my family and friends.

Ready to Welcome a Storm

Sat, 03 Jan 2009 14:11:15 GMT

As I write this, I'm bundled in a nice thick blanket as I lounge about in my usual oversized t-shirt and jammies with aquamarine paint smeared on one leg. I got the paint smear when I was fourteen. I was putting the finishing touches on a handpainted T-shirt which I had to submit for my Art 2 class. I drew a boat with yellow and aquamarine sails much like one of the sailboats which usually participate in the city's annual "Paraw Regatta" and I accidentally smeared some of the paint on my jammies.

It is unusually cold at this time of the year, something people attribute to global warming. It has been like this since New Year's Eve. Around Christmas, the weather was not exactly tropical sunny as the rains came and went but it was not exactly cold. This went on until early morning of New Year's Eve. I remember waking up at 2 a.m. or so and reaching for a blanket. I meant to close the window but I saw that my mom had probably closed it earlier. The wind was howling outside and rain rapped at our windows incessantly. Later when I got up in the morning, clouds had started to gather in the sky and there was an almost nasty nip which the wind brought. By afternoon, it was getting too cold for comfort. The rain had turned our front yard into one muddy mess and the wind was rattling just about everything from the coconut trees to our teeth. For people like us who are pretty much used to perspiration-inducing weather, the temperature drop could almost be described as freezing cold. At this time last year, firecracker and fireworks explosions could already be heard randomly but because of the wind and the rain, who would even entertain the thought of going outside and lighting firecrackers if that were indeed physically possible?

I walked to my grandmother's kitchen and settled myself in front of the dapog (wood-fed stove) which, on usual circumstances, was not exactly my favorite place in the house. The usual festive mood had been dampened (pun intended) by one major meteorological killjoy and now, no one really wanted to leave the house when a storm was whipping its way outside into its own version of a twister party. I looked out the door and I began to consider that a stormy New Year's Eve actually seemed like an appropriate way to welcome 2009. After all, forecasts about what 2009 would bring seemed nothing short of discouraging or dismal - possible mass layoffs, global recession, Charter Change, political and economic turmoil, rise in prices of basic commodities, not to mention natural disasters which are a staple in times like this. In short, the incoming year was going to be just like what I saw outside - one major storm that was going to be stirring up lives, nations and hearts into a never-ending frenzy. The wind seemed to howl in agreement as the thought settled in my mind and started to really scare me.

As I watched my grandparents' cook chop ubod into little bite-sized pieces for stuffing into a lumpia wrapper, I realized that even if my hands were still rather cold, I was not as cold as when I was outside, sloshing through the rain. The heat from the fire had warmed my hands rather subtly and I welcomed the return of some sensation to my fingers. Dinner was served a little while later and while the wind continued to howl and the rain continued its barrage on our windows, none of the people sitting at the dinner table seemed to care. Talk and laughter went on as usual and I almost forgot that a storm was on the rampage outside our house. The storm continued its assault outside. We continued with our daily goings-on inside the house, even if we were confined to a much smaller space now. But still no one cared.

2009 may brings more tornadoes, twisters, hurricanes or squalls. It may be, as forecasters predict, a year which will break a person's spirit more than 2008. It may bring too many baggages to carry, too many problems to fend off, too many hunger pangs to ignore, too many painful nips to forget or too many storms to weather. But I guess, anything can continue to range outside but as long as you have something or someone to retreat to like a sanctuary and give you some rest or warmth, it cannot be as bad as it would seem. It can be anything or anyone - your family, your friends, your faith - anything or anyone at all which can quiet the angriest storm and temper the nastiest spirit which threatens to rip you to shreds. It is anything or anyone which/who can be your sanctuary, your stronghold, your refuge, your little stove which continues to burn brightly and quietly as the roughest of tempests rages right about outside your door.

Tales of a Wannabe Kitchen Goddess

Sun, 28 Dec 2008 16:03:29 GMT

About a month ago, I was watching as a make-up artist layered eye shadow on my discipler Ate Carol's eyes in the music room. I was trying to figure out how she (the make-up artist) was making Ate Carol's chinky eyes look bigger and more dramatic when my discipler suddenly asked me, "Is it true that you're good at cooking?"

That question hit me like one of the wicked curveballs Victoria bragged about in "Twilight." Me? Cook? That was easily one of the funniest questions everyone had ever asked me simply because as much as I love to sink my teeth into anything edible and cater to my gastric juices' every whim, my cooking skills are, unfortunately, (grossly) inversely proportional to my appetite. As if to further bolster my culinary insecurities, I have come to realize that I could possibly forever banner the title "Kitchen God's Daughter/Grand Daughter" as my father and both my grandfathers are real geniuses in front of a pan and stove.

So as to rightfully deem myself worthy of every spoon I reach for, I decided to start with desserts and pasta about a year ago because they seem easy enough (and because they're two of my favorite food items). And it seems like when I eat whatever I make, it all tastes pretty good even if I know it lacks a bit of something here and there.

On Sundays, my mom gives our house help the day off so we don't eat lunch and dinner at home. We usually eat out or have food delivered. Tonight, my mom decided to try a new paste recipe which she clipped from a magazine. It was called Vongole Pasta with Prawns. Like me, my mom and my sister both lack serious culinary skills but the adventure of trying something new and actually making it yourself was all together appealing. My mother and I went off to the supermarket to buy the needed ingredients which included white wine, clams and prawns. Our previous pasta projects were topped off with either red sauce or creamy white sauce but we have always been fans of pasta drowning in olive oil. But then again, we have never tried mixing olive oil with white wine so it should be worth the try. Shallots were not available in the supermarket so we just went for small onions. There were also no lemons in the fruit stall so we opted to use calamansi. We didn't know wat lemon zest was so we left that out and since there was also no dried chili flakes on the shelves, I grabbed some chilli powder. We also used canned clams since there were no fresh clams available.

We brought the groceries home and the three of us started work on what would be our dinner. Mom added more wine than we thought was needed and my sister was trying to shield me from adding more chili powder. Later on, we started laughing so hard because the mixture did taste more of wine than anything else. Dad checked us out from the window and I started to wonder if he was contemplating on calling for food delivery. So we added more oil and butter just to counter the taste and I would sneak in more chili powder when my sister wasn't looking.

Finally, we added the pasta to the sauce and then piled everything into a huge serving bowl. Call it a case of "sariling luto, sariling puri" but it was actually pretty good, if I may say so. Even our house help thought so! I think we turned the heat on too high or something so much of the sauce evaporated so it would have been better if there was more sauce. If I had my way, I would have added more chili and more pepper. I really liked how the sweetness from the wine blended with the spicy tinge from the chili. I had one too any helpings and in the end, my plate could really tell you how our entire culinary adventure ended.

If any of you want to try it for yourself, I'll post the recipe just as soon as I find it.

Dreading a White Christmas

Fri, 26 Dec 2008 15:32:44 GMT

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,
Just like the ones I used to know..."

And so goes the song. Well, in my Christmas book, white does not seem to be the best color for the holiday season this year...and a white Christmas is not exactly the Christmas I have come to know.

On my way home from the airport, I found myself in the middle of what appeared to be the Filipino version of a white Christmas. My home province was one of the places ravaged by Typhoon Frank in the middle of 2008 and though our house was among the few which remained untouched by the flood, a huge part of the city and the outlying towns were practically under water. After the flood, mud caked the streets and eventually, the mud dried to become dust. And now, as cars and jeepneys sped past the streets, dust would be stirred up into tropical versions of snowflakes.

As I stared at the specks of dust which clouded my windowsill, I began dreading what could possibly be my first white Christmas.

Normally, my parents took on the tradition of fetching me or my sister from the airport and driving either of us home. This time around, my cousin Ramboy and my grandparents' driver Tok did the fetching and that was not the only thing differen about coming home this time of the year. Instead of being driven home, I was to land myself - and my luggage - in the hospital.

So there I found myself taking the elevator (good thing Tok volunteered to bring my luggage home for me) with an elevator operator in his white pants, doctors in their white coats, nurses in their white uniforms and caps and a stretcher with white linen. And as if the sight of white were not enough as I walked the whitewashed walls, I was greeted by my grandfather as he lay huddled underneath his white blankie. I couldn't stand the white blinds so I pulled them up and was at least comforted by the sunlight streaming through the windows.

My gwampa had been in the hospital for about four days prior to my arrival because of complications due to urinary tract infection. He was also bugged relentlessly by pain somewhere in his back which the doctors had difficulty diagnosing. Their theories ranged from fusion of his vertebral bones to hydronephrosis and even "rayuma." The pain pretty much came and went like Santa Claus down a chimney - at any given time. It was difficult watching him jerk his legs because of the pain. My gwampa has a very high, almost superhuman tolerance (believe it or not) for anything painful or uncomfortable so once he starts complaining that something hurts...it really does hurt a whole lot. Throughout his stay, I began to wonder how Sue endured through a number Christmases in a hospital room with her grandfather before he passed away. I made a mental reminder to ask her next time.

Throughout his almost two week stay in the company of the white walls, white linen, white-uniformed people and white tiled floors, it wasn't all bad though. We watched "Eagle Eye" and "Pirates of the Caribbean" and he laughed his socks off whenever Johnny Depp came up onscreen. Sometimes he'd sing and once gave his physical therapist a fright when he feigned an injury during a rehab session. He particularly got a kick out of teasing everybody, especially playing matchmaker with his nurse and the office messenger who came in daily to give him reports to sign. We also thoroughly enjoyed praying with him in the morning and reading my old, "NIV for teenagers" Bible together which, according to him, was nice because the print was huge.

It was not just the prospect of spending Christmas in a hospital which I was not particularly looking forward to. I could spend Christmas in Timbuktu without really caring as long as I had my family with me. It was just that I was not used to having someone sick and the rest of the family worrying to bits during the happiest time of the year. It would be all right to have a different Christmas every so often but a change as drastic as this was just right about unwelcome.

The white Christmas I so dreaded never came though. Lolo was discharged on the 23rd under the conditions that he keep his catheter on, that he should be confined to his wheelchair and that if he does want to walk, he should do so with crutches. That was enough for us and for Lolo who was itching to get out of his hospital room. I guess white Christmases, for now, are not really in our palettes for the colors of the season. But then again, the same thought must have run through the minds of the people left behind in the company of those white-washed walls, white linen, white uniformed people and white tiled floors.

My gwampa's looking all too happy to have
his IV off and his discharge slip signed right
before Christmas Eve.