The Panic Years

an important post

2012-02-25T23:57:00.002+08:00

With your help and generosity, DiksyonaryoAtbp would like to raise 200 dictionaries for children in remote public schools this year.

For just P450, you can buy 1 Scholastic First Dictionary, a great starter book for these young students, who, for the most part, have never even held new and unused books in their hands before.

You can also donate storybooks, grade school references or textbooks (preferably grades 1-3), child-friendly encyclopedia, and school supplies. If you're interested in donating Scholastic First Dictionary, please send me a message so I can give you more details.

For more information on how to donate and volunteer, you can visit our website here or add us on Facebook to learn more about the project.

Diksyonaryo Atbp was started by my friend Lia as a small birthday project in 2009, and through the kindness and generosity of friends, family, and even strangers, she has since donated books in Davao, Pampanga, Manila, Bulacan, Benguet, and Laguna. This year, we would like to give books to the kids of Masbate and Mindanao.

Check out the video of Lia's latest trip to visit the kids of Benguet last Valentines. Let's all help raise literacy, one child at a time.

***We can only do this with your help. To be honest with you, I won't be the first person to raise my hand and volunteer for community service and social work every time the opportunity presents itself. But to me, education is not just something that you leave to parents or teachers. It's a social responsibility and a right of every child. Something that we must all take part in and ensure not just for the betterment of every child but of our country as well. It's our duty, both as a person and as a Filipino.
And what better way to encourage learning than to read. Books have been my best friends ever since I was little, and my love for reading is what encouraged me to be a writer in the first place. My grandmothers on both sides of the family were all teachers so there was no shortage of books in our household. On that alone, I already consider myself very lucky, and I can never imagine what my childhood would have been like without the books that I grew up with.
I don't want to saturate this post with all the cliches about the importance of reading and how awesome books are because we already know that, and even those people who admit to not liking reading will tell you that, at some point, they've read a book, an essay, a poem, or a magazine article that taught them something invaluable or that changed how they see certain things about the world.
The bottomline is this: we will never see the progress and growth that our country can potentially achieve for as long as we stay passive about the importance of education and treat it as something that we can opt out of whenever it becomes inconvenient for us. Poverty sucks, but we can't rise above that if we don't provide our children, the very future of this country, the skills and the knowledge to make something of themselves. And that takes effort and commitment from all of us, not just from the parents, the teachers, or the government. Don't let our children and their children's children get caught in the vicious cycle of poverty and suffer through our government's flimsy excuses because I find it almost criminal that, even at this day and age, we still can't provide one book for every Filipino child.

fyi

2012-02-03T01:43:00.000+08:00

I get that sometimes, when you have your rose-colored glasses on, you see the world turn into a bright shade of Barbie-colored happiness and all that wonderful shit, but maybe you should realize that by doing so, a lot of things don't appear to be what they truly are. Even for just one day, I wish people would just stop thinking what they assume to know about me and what goes on in my life. I will leave you to your sweet and fluffy dreamland where unicorns vomit rainbow sherbets, but please, for fuck's sake, stop thinking that the rest of us would like to live in it too or that your world is all there is.

And on that note:

See? Even that ain't so pretty, after all.

bachelorette party

2012-01-31T22:22:00.000+08:00

I'm not big on DIY handicrafts. In fact, when I was younger, I used to bitch and moan endlessly to my mom every time our teachers require us to crochet, cross-stitch, or collage the hell out of our school projects. I lack the patience, creativity, and discipline required for such crafts. Not to mention that I happen to possess a pair of big and clumsy hands, hence, DIY projects are not exactly my thing.

Until . . . I had to organize a bachelorette party from scratch last November for one of my friends. I wasn't hoping to become the next Martha Stewart overnight; I just wanted to make sure that whatever I come up with doesn't look like they were from the hands of a third grader on acid. You want another motivating factor? Most of the people attending are college friends whom I haven't seen since graduation and the bride's cousins whom I've never even met beforehand. So yeah, I would really like to not fall flat on my face, thank you very much.

As for the theme, we just decided to pick up the wedding's motif and went along with a simple vintage look.

Top: All You Need is Love invite; bridal shower libs and DIY "corset" envelope; cupcake set up.
Bottom: Loot bags and cupcakes; table set up; loot bags. Click to see full size.

I made and printed all the tags, invitations, and stickers and (gasp!) even did the flower arrangements. I wanted to make sure that the whole thing looked personalized and "tied-in" to one another. But since I generally suck at Photoshop and have very limited stock of creative ideas, I just tried to make up for it by adding unique little touches and injecting some humor.

L-R: Table clutter; game prizes wrapped in metallic paper

One of the activities I prepared that night was the bridal shower libs, which is basically mad libs for bridal showers (well, duh). I got the idea from a photo I saw on Pinterest (or was it Etsy?) and decided to make one for my friend. I thought it would be a fun and easy ice-breaker for the guests, but it turned out to be pretty challenging for all of us (but super hilarious though). Who knew that a simple fill-in-the-blanks could be that stressful and difficult? It was quite worth it though once the bride started reading what the guests came up with. I think we were all trying to "out-naughty" each other with our adjectives and nouns.

To go with the shower libs, I also made a corset-inspired envelope using board paper, ribbon, and a puncher. That made it easy to compile everything and give it to the bride afterwards. If you're an extra-creative fella, you can draw, paint, or embellish the envelope to your heart's content and make it look more like a corset. I tried to go that route but had to ditch the idea because, uh, do you remember what I said about the third grader on acid? Uh-huh. That.

L-R: Making the loot bags; the tag says "he put a ring on it"

The loot bags were easy enough to do because I decided we'd just stick some scrapbooking materials on the brown paper bag (I was running out of ideas). Our cupcake giveaways, which Casa Feliz had custom baked for us based on this awesome cookie design I found (sorry, my phone died by the time we ate them so I didn't have pictures), went inside these bags together with other sweet treats that me and my friend slash co-maid of honor had picked up from Marks&Spencer. She and one of the bride's cousins finished up the loot bag preps while I ~~mangled~~ arranged the flowers.

Speaking of flowers, I decided to just do a small and simple centerpiece since we wouldn't be having a big buffet table anyway. The idea was to make the set up look like random "clutter". We didn't have a vase small enough for what I had in mind, so I just used a couple of my mom's glass ice cream cup thingies.

Venice according to Victoria Court-Pasig.

I guess it goes without saying that we were operating on a very limited budget for this bachelorette party. One of the biggest challenges was finding a venue and feeding 15-20 people for P7500 or less (this budget doesn't include decorations, giveaways, and other miscellaneous expenses). We finally settled on Victoria Court-Pasig (Panorama branch) and book one of their party suites. Originally, we had reserved their Divine Room, but due to some booking mistake on their part, we ended up getting upgraded to one of their more expensive rooms, the Venice Suite.

The place was, hmm, quite over the top. Everyone loved it nonetheless because of how fun and wonderfully tacky (haha) it was. I mean, come on, how could you not love it when they had a freaking gondola inside?! A gondola! With an oar! Complete with real water for the canal! And don't even get me started on the jacuzzi. Oh did I mention it had a gondola?

Top: on the bed with the bride in green; quick smile before wolfing down dinner
Bottom: gondola action with the bride; the bride with HS and college friends

What really surprised me about this whole experience was realizing that I enjoyed doing it. A lot. So much so that even until today, I often find myself scouring the Internet for party ideas and gushing over clever DIY projects. I discovered my interest for planning and organizing events when I dabbled in wedding planning a couple of years ago, but I didn't know I would take a liking to crafts and styling as well, my big and clumsy hands notwithstanding. Granted, I'm not very good at it, but at least I got to discover the lone creative bone in my body.

(messy) state of affairs

2012-01-27T16:18:00.002+08:00

My friends know that I'm big on routine de-cluttering, both in the literal and figurative sense (hello, Facebook purging). In recent years, I've taught myself to only keep the important and meaningful things. We acquire a lot of things as we go through our daily lives, and before we know it, we're swimming in a pile of unnecessary stuff. For some people, having "harmless" and "meaningless" things exist in theirs lives is OK as long as they stay out of the way. Not for me. I believe these things, harmless as they may seem, can weigh you down eventually. I like my life simple and streamlined.

I'm no neat-freak, just to be clear. I can be very lazy when it comes to cleaning my room, and I can be annoyingly sentimental and clingy to little things like trinkets, old letters, even clothes. I'm also not very good at curbing my impulse to shop that's why I just try to ignore the warning signs (this is easy to accomplish if you're staring down a poster that says END OF THE SEASON SALE! UP TO 70% OFF!) and stall as long as possible. But once my room starts to pile up with useless crap and plastic bags of newly bought and unworn clothes, the panic button in my head starts to glow a very bright and glaring red. That's when I know it's time to get down and dirty and to start making tough choices: to keep or not to keep. So . . . there's tonnage of crap in my room right now, and it's getting pretty darn hard to ignore. Guess I know what I'm doing this weekend.

le idiot

2012-01-26T01:44:00.001+08:00

I'm an owl. We owls are super smart (just ask all the animals in the forest). Unlike this blogger.

I'd like to think that I'm a smart person. I mean, I'm no Jimmy Neutron, but I believe I'm smarter than the average bear. Except I realize now that I'm really not. Ha! All those As in school are apparently not a good indicator of how apt someone is to deal with real life.

Ever had those days when you just want to give yourself a good (literal and figurative) whack in the head? I'm having one of those days right now.

Some smarty-pants once said that "The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing." You may be right about that Mr. Socrates Wiseapple except that sometimes knowing nothing just makes someone— excuse my French—a dumbass. And right now, that dumbass is moi.

ten things i know to be true

2012-01-06T03:15:00.000+08:00

It's been years (!) since I last wrote a poem and forever since I've been satisfied with the things I came up with. Oh poetry, poetry. I used to be good at it, back when all it took was following rhyme schemes and coming up with overused rhymes and sappy verses. Oh, to be wide-eyed and 12 years old again.

A few months ago, I was browsing through TED and came across a video of spoken word poet Sarah Kay. She performed two poems in the video, Point B and Hiroshima, and blew me away with her sass, feistiness, smart metaphors, and wisdom that came not just with age (she's a few years younger than I am) but also with understanding. Between her performances, she told the audience of how her journey began as a poet—the whys, hows, and her passion and experiences in sharing and teaching spoken word poetry.

Sarah Kay - Point B

One of the tactics she uses to trick teenagers into writing poems is by making lists. It's easy to do and far less intimidating than asking them to write down their thoughts in lines and verses. By making and sharing these lists, she said, we'll discover that someone else has written something completely similar, something that's the absolute opposite, something you haven't heard of before, or something you thought you knew but that other person is introducing a new way of seeing it.

I think this is a good exercise, not just as a writing technique or to gauge how similar or different your beliefs and convictions are to other people, but also in reaffirming and discovering where and who you are as a person at this point in your life.

As I grow older, and I speak not only in the numeric sense, I've come to realize that certain things in my life no longer have the same meaning. Maybe I've gained a new perspective, a better understanding, or maybe I just outgrew them. I react to certain situations in a completely different manner than my 20-year-old self would, and I make choices that I once thought would never be an option. I'm pretty sure that this is true for most of you as well. I'm not saying I'm making better decisions now or that I'm any wiser, just that certain things I used to believe in in the past are not necessarily the same things I know to be true today. So here's my list:

Ten Things I Know to be True (Today)

I love my family, and my family loves me despite and in spite of it all.

Having regrets is not always a bad thing.

Cake, ice cream, and chocolate (or anything sweet for that matter) can make even the shittiest of days better.

Whether we admit it or not, physical appearances matter even in situations when it shouldn't.

All it takes to prepare a decent meal is common sense.

You are doing yourself a great disservice by comparing yourself to others.

Zombies are the greatest monsters of all time.
(Yes, I had to include that.)

I will fall in love again.

Never attempt sarcasm on the Internet; it only works in real life.

We need to hug more.

It would be interesting when five or ten years from now, I would look back to this post and see if all these things I listed down would be still be true for me then. Maybe you should make your list too.

the year that was and will be

2012-01-01T05:22:00.000+08:00

Ooohh! Pretty and sparkly light thingies in the sky!

I'm writing this as dawn breaks on the first day of the year. Naks, how dramatic. But seriously, it's 4:45 am, and I've just finished watching Sex and the City 2 on HBO (for the third time). Our house and the rest of our neighbors have been quiet since a couple of hours ago, and I suppose I should go to bed as well. Not to be all melodramatic on you but there are still a few things I want to note down before I finally go to bed and officially wake up to 2012.

To be honest, 2011 was, at best, meh. A lot of grand, life-changing events happened this year (and I don't mean Google+. Or Facebook's Timeline being available for everyone), just not to me. While my friends were getting engaged, getting married, and getting pregnant, I was steadily coasting along and living by my old routines, procrastinating and later on scrambling to meet deadlines, getting hit on by a guy who turn out to be just bored of his relationship (you know who you are), packing and unpacking the last decade of my life and moving to a new house (wait, I guess this is kind of a big deal), losing some weight and—thanks to all the weddings I attended and the holiday parties—gaining back a few.

Last December 2010, I had no yearend recollection posted on my blog. No expectations and resolutions for the coming year either. But if I had one, I would've written that I was indifferent about 2011. I felt no excitement, had nothing in particular to look forward to, and just didn't have the energy to plan the year out. Maybe that's why my year turned out to be exactly how I felt about it as well. It also didn't help that by the time Valentine's Day came around, we've already lost three of our closest family relatives (my paternal grandmother, my aunt, and my uncle). And by the third week of February, I got into the biggest fight with my mother and sister and stopped speaking with them for months. So yes, 2011 couldn't have started in a more horrible way for me.

But in the spirit of fairness, 2011, even with all of its boring, infuriating, and awkward moments, has at least reminded me that I can accomplish my goals if I really want to. That people you've known for years can still surprise you if you just give them a chance. That I'm perfectly fine with being the only girl in a table without a boyfriend's or a husband's arm wrapped around my waist. That kind and thoughtful words can do wonders and heal scarred relationships. And that it's okay to get wasted and make a fool of yourself once in a while (even if you think you're too old to be a blundering, drunken idiot). So for all these things, I am thankful. I am fortunate to have found a way to work on my own terms, my family is safe and healthy, we have a new home, and we are blessed every day that we wake up.

Right now, I am—dare I say it—optimistic. I have no idea what's gonna happen this year. I just know that something up ahead is worthy of getting ecstatic about. Still no resolutions though because good lord, I will never be tricked into following them. OK, maybe just one (find a new hobby!). And with that said, good vibes all around this 2012!

P.S.

Maybe I should start treating this year as if it were my last, because we'll never know if those Mayans are on to something, and I would hate for the end of the world to catch me off guard.

still here

2011-12-17T16:50:00.003+08:00

I haven't been sleeping right, I freaking gained 6 lbs when I should've been down two sizes by now, I've been wasting hard-earned money on a ton of crap, I bought shoes that I don't even know when and where to wear, I shot up my credit card bill, I attended three weddings without a date (GASP!!!), I got crazy-fucked-up-wasted-puking-on-myself drunk (don't worry, only three people saw it, maybe four) on one of said weddings where I was a maid of honor (I know, I'm a classy bitch), I haven't had time to buy a single item from my Christmas shopping list, I'm thinking I'm probably going to fuck up Christmas this year, I also fucked up my financial plans this year and my bank account took a freaking nosedive to Pathetic Land, I have a script I'm supposed to finish in 24 hours and I'm here ranting. Life is fucking great, people. And yeah, I'm still here. A little fucked up, but still here.

On the brighter side, I've uncovered a lie.

The Eiffel Tower isn't much of a tower after all.

And speaking of weddings, three of my awesome friends are married. I know life's not a fairy tale, but it doesn't mean you can't wish for happily ever after.

Cheers to you, my lovely ladies! Here's to happily ever after . . . or at least something close to it.

november so far

2011-11-07T02:51:00.000+08:00

Birthday party (photo courtesy of Sher) with tons of laughter, dinner with college friends and wedding talk, and family time over Thai food (which you can't see because it was gone in a second).

"shorts" story

2011-10-19T20:54:00.000+08:00

As you may already know, my family moved to ~~another country~~ another street last month. So far, adjusting to our new house has been filled with smiles and sunshine all around (literally, the huge windows flood the entire house with sunlight and that's not always a good thing since in this part of the world, noontime = burning fires of hell). Last week, my dad arrived from his latest job assignment in Sierra Leone (it's a super top secret mission from the CIA), and we finally got around to doing some medium-strength house projects.

They decided to start with the complete renovation of the bathroom adjacent to my room, mostly because I'm a whiny bitch, and I won't shut up about how gross it was and how they're bad parents for letting their children endure such a horrid bathroom experience (I kid, I kid!).

After several trips to Wilcon Home Depot, we finally bought bathroom tiles, fixtures, and other construction materials yesterday. Perhaps to get back at me, or maybe he just keeps forgetting that I'm a GIRL and should not be made to do hard labor especially since we've hired handymen to do said hard labor, not to mention he has two grown SONS, my dad half-jokingly made me help haul boxes upon boxes of super heavy this-must-be-made-of-solid-cast-iron tiles from the garage all the way to the bathroom at the end of the hallway on the second floor. Thanks a lot, Dad. I was willing to ignore the past instances when you made me wash and wax the car (to be fair, we did the carwash together), but this one is just beyond me. I dunno, maybe he just gets a kick out of seeing me suffer (sob). But since I'm a *good* daughter (I see your eyerolls), of course, I obliged.

So here's where the funny part begins. As I was hauling those miserable tiles (uh, hernia, anyone??), I noticed that the shorts I was wearing was slowly but surely starting to slip off. I ignored it at first because those shorts are kind of high-waist and since I've lost some weight, it was already a tad bit loose, making it more of a hip-rise shorts now. No big deal.

WRONG.

OK, hold it. As you continue reading this post, you will most likely get the impression that I'm humble bragging, which I totally am. In fact, this post is a humble brag disguised as a funny story disguised as a house update. I'm allowed to be an asshole once in a while, right?

I grabbed two tile boxes from the back of the car, which I quickly realized was very stupid because I overestimated my strength and underestimated those ceramic tiles of doom. I couldn't even walk with my back straight because they were really THAT heavy. As I approach the front door, I straightened up my back and prepared to climb up the doorstep. And then I felt it. A cold breeze blew and I just felt it. My shorts are now past where they would usually sit on my hips. What happened? Did something tear? Did the button come off? Was my fly unzipped? Questions and confusion invaded my brain and a panicked look descended on my face.

If I put my foot down or took another step, I was pretty darn sure my shorts would land in my ankle. To make things worse, there in front of me was Handyman #1, looking confused as to why I was frozen with one foot in mid-air. Did I mention I had 1000 tons worth of bathroom tiles in my hands?! And my Dad would not think twice about throwing me in a cage full of lions if I broke one?!

photo credit

I was just lucky that I happened to be wearing a long, tunic-y shirt so my underwear and squishy gut were not exposed and no retinas were burned. I'm not a religious person at all, but in that moment, as I very slowly and calculatingly lowered my foot to the ground, the thoughts in my head were, "Please, God, I would rather let the earth swallow me right here and now than have these stupid shorts slip off and be half naked in front of this stranger." Luckily, my non-existent hips and flat ass, combined with some super thigh-clenching, managed to hold onto my shorts, and I was able to very carefully breathe a sigh of relief.

My next instinct was to yell at Handyman #1 for not showing up earlier so that I wouldn't have to carry these stupid tiles in the first place! He must have seen the look of panic, confusion, and downright hate and outrage in my eyes because he offered his help even before I could open my mouth and said he didn't know the tiles have arrived. WHATEVER.

As soon as Handyman #1 turned around, I pulled up my shorts (discreetly, of course, because I am a lady) and went inside the house feeling relieved, amused, and horrified at the thought of the potential life-destroying embarrassment that I just evaded. There was no visible tear on my shorts and the button and zipper were still intact, but I was convinced that something must have gone wrong with it so I rushed to my room to check it out.

I bought those shorts maybe a couple of years and 35lbs ago. I hadn't worn them for a while because they didn't fit me right anymore (read: cameltoe). It got a new leash on life last month when I decided that I can wear it again and it was ready to be resurrected. However, until yesterday, I've still only worn it twice, and in both times I was wearing a belt. I didn't realize that it was now too loose. Oh the irony.

The shorts in question:

Whoa. Whoa. WHOA. When did this happen?! See, this is the kind of thing that should motivate you and kick you back into action when you've been in a diet rut for far longer that you're willing to admit (and by "you" I really mean "me"). I still count calories, I still maintain portions, but I still don't exercise enough. I know. I KNOW. I'm not doing this right. Yes, I know that, thank you very much.

It's easy to be complacent when I see this kind of improvement even with the half-assed efforts I'm making. But I also know that my progress could have been better, faster, and healthier if I were to have a regular exercise regimen. So OK, I'm giving in. Exercise it is.

Gymgymgymohmaigodzooooegzaytingrainbowsherbetsandpinkmarshmallowsforeveryone!!!!!!

</humblebrag>

P.S.

As I was googling images I could use for this post, I tried several variations of the following keywords: shorts, shorts falling, shorts slipping, etc. You get the idea. If later in life you find yourself googling the same kind of images for whatever reason, do not—I repeat, DO NOT—use the keywords "shorts slipping off" in your image search if you don't want to go blind, vomit a week's worth of lunch, and get horrible waking nightmares. I had to learn the hard way. I took one for the team, and I don't want you to suffer the way I did (still am).

review: faerie tale (1988)

2011-10-15T03:57:00.001+08:00

Faerie Tale introduces us to wealthy couple Phil and Gloria Hastings and their three children, a teenage girl from a previous marriage and two small boys (twins), living in a farmhouse in modern-day upstate New York. Having just moved in, Gloria, a semi-retired actress, is busy with sprucing up and decorating the house while Phil, a successful novelist and screenwriter, works on his next project. Their eldest child, Gabbie, is home for the summer before she returns to school in California, and the twins are busy exploring the house and the woods behind it. Everything seems to be in perfect order for the family until strange things start happening in the house leading them to suspect that there might be something sinister tied to its history.

Soon the Hastings catch the attention of long-forgotten creatures of Celtic folklore. Gabbie is seduced by a mysterious man, the twins get stalked by The Bad Thing and its Master, and Phil and Gloria discover that a centuries-old pact to keep the peace between the human and faerie worlds are about to be broken. With a lot of help from Phil's friend and mentor, Gabbie's boyfriend, and an old Irish drunk whom the twins had befriended, the family tries to battle a dark and ancient power in order to keep their family from being torn apart.

Unlike what the title suggests, this book is actually nothing like the happily-ever-after fairy tales that we've come to know and love since we were toddlers. Author Raymond Feist, famous for his The Riftwar Cycle series, breaks away from his usual brand of fantasy fiction to weave this supernatural thriller that I would definitely not recommend adding to your kid's bedtime stories.

Although the story has elements that pay tribute to the fairy tales we're all familiar with—a young woman falls in love with a charming and heroic man, two boys exploring and embarking on a little adventure—the gloom that permeates the novel tells the readers otherwise. Feist portrays the mythical creatures as very dark and very sexual beings that even made me uncomfortable at one point, if only for the fact that the story involves children as well. I can't remember if I've read another story that depicted fairies in such a way, but that's where the strength and merit of this book lies. There's a lot of folklore packed in the pages of Faerie Tale, explaining the histories and behavior of the faerie folk. And as someone who's not very familiar with Celtic myths, that's something that I thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated.

Faerie Tale mostly succeeds in illustrating how technology and industrialized societies have displaced ancient gods and how, inevitably, these two worlds would collide. We're essentially inhabiting the same world and moving in the same space. The only difference is, us humans have been teaching our kids that there is nothing supernatural about this world, and the creature moving in the dark corner of the room is just a shadow of the tree outside the window.

However, as much as I enjoyed the supernatural and mythological aspect of the book, I can't really bring myself to like everything about the story. For one, I think that Feist could have done a better job with characterization and plot devices. A lot of the interactions between the characters seemed too cliché and contrived, especially with Gabbie and her boyfriend (whom she conveniently met the day they moved in, by the way). The writing style also left me shaking my head one too many times because of its tendency to be juvenile and uninspired, not to mention sappy. I'm not sure if that's because I had high expectations about this book. Granted that this was the first Feist novel I've ever read, I was already somewhat familiar with his fame as a fantasy writer and the success of his later work. Even if he's writing outside of his element with Faerie Tale, I don't think that's an excuse for having flat and uninteresting characters. I actually found it difficult to care about them (maybe except for the twins—but that's just because they're kids and they looked cute in my mental picture of them—and their dog), and the only character I genuinely sympathized with is an old drunk (I was supposed to write "Irish drunk" but I realized that's kinda redundant, haha).

All things considered, I would still recommend it because of the excellent infusion of mythology and folklore in the story. If you've only been reading GP and PG depictions of the magic folk, this book will be a different and welcome experience. So if you can get past the dull characters and the slow burn, you just might enjoy this Faerie Tale (and if you can't, there's always American Gods).

shoes for less

2011-10-12T16:00:00.000+08:00

I saw these pairs of shoes several months ago, but as much as I love them and how complete they would make my life, there's no way I could afford them.

L-R: Ivanka "Pinkish" Platform Pump ($125), Seychelles Amethyst ($90), Diane Von Furstenberg Zia ($280)

So fortunately, we have our friendly neighborhood Payless Shoes.

L-R: Dexter Blue Karma Pump ($23), Lower East Side Lizzy Bow ($23), Kaper Double Strap ($30)

home sweet home

2011-09-28T03:00:00.000+08:00

My birthday has come to pass. Well, it wasn't so bad, really. Actually, it wasn't bad at all. I would do a birthday recap, but my natal day festivities have yet to come to an end. I still have a few dinners/get-togethers scheduled this week, and I thought I'd just do one update for everything. I'm not that interesting of a blogger to be bombarding the very few people who care with what I've been up to.

Anyway, I'm blogging from the comforts of our new home. As I mentioned in my previous post, we moved just one street over last Sunday, and we've all been very busy with unpacking, painting, and cleaning up. Three days into that and we're still only halfway done. I now only realize just how much stuff we've acquired over the years and that some of them are completely unnecessary, and we could have totally done without. It didn't help that since yesterday, typhoon Pedring has been kicking the country's figurative ass with its nonstop rain and strong winds. [I'm listening for news on the radio right now (we still don't have our cable set up), and I can only pray for the safety of the people who are in seriously affected areas.]

I still can't say that I've already wrapped my head around the fact this is now our home, especially since I never really had a proper "good-bye" to our old one. Everything just happened so fast—one day, I was putting my life into boxes and the next day, I'm in an unfamiliar house. The day that we moved was the first time I saw the house. I actually feel like I'm just in a vacation home or something, which is probably why I still don't feel any longing or sentimentality for our old place. Did I mention I don't like drastic life changes?

So far, we're done with repainting the living room, dining area, and my bedroom. We've got tons more of DIY projects and touch-ups lined up, not to mention retiling the bathrooms and the obnoxious wall that we're going to have to put up around the property. Oh man, this is going to be so much fun!!! /sarcasm over

I'm uploading photos of the house but be warned that everything is still pretty much in a state of chaos and confusion. Without further ado . . . picture spam!

So because I am such a great documenterertist (what do you mean that's not a word?), I, of course, forgot to take a picture of the house when it was still bright outside.

One thing I seriously like about this house is the huge glass doors and windows. It's like a dream come true for me, really. I love that natural light floods the house and fresh air can move around freely. Red accent wall to complement the neutral tan of the rest of the house.

Every time I see this lamp, I am half-expecting Tinker Bell and her pixie minions to pop out. Sometimes, I really don't understand what my mom is thinking.

The glass door opens up to a patio outside the dining area (there's another door in the living room). Also, this picture is NOT AT ALL crappy and/or off-center. Please adjust your monitor, thanks.

This is the living room, and it looks like someone had been napping on the sofa. (Bedrooms were being repainted when this picture was taken. Also, I accidentally typed "repented" instead of "repainted." It's 3:23 a.m. as I'm typing this so I think someone needs to go to bed. Like, right now.

We got this lamp and it's twin at my mom's friend's garage sale for very cheap. I kind of dig how big and clunky and sort of retro-looking they are.

The lawn. Clearly, we have our work cut out for us.

That hideous gate needs to go. And it will.

This is the hallway that leads to the bedrooms, although right now it's looking more like a jungle and we can barely clear a path through it.

I decided to go with gray and light orange for my room because I like the idea of combining a very peppy color with something somber and calming. The orange was supposed to be an accent wall, but the dude who did the painting got confused with my instructions and painted two walls orange. I decided not to change it anymore, at least until I get sick of the color. I might just repaint it myself when that happens.

This picture doesn't do it justice, but this closet is pretty huge and spacious. Notice how the shoe boxes look really small? And obviously, when your feet are size 11, your shoes, and the boxes they come with, tend to be ginormous in nature. Also, I'm not sure about you guys but I'm a firm believer that closet space is a girl's best friend. I could care less for diamonds. (I'm totally lying about the last part.)

I was very pleased to find so much counter and storage space in the kitchen. Now I can live out my fantasies of having my own cooking show (sans the cooking)!

This kitchen is so huge that I'm tempted to live in it. As you may notice, we're still in the process of repainting the cabinets as well.

You best believe I wore my jammies for a good part of the day. This weather is practically begging for it, you know. I'm also not going to entertain questions that have the words "shower" and "bath" for today, thank you very much.

Bonus: My friends, fresh off the box, want to say hi!

And somehow, between celebrating my birthday and The Big Move, I'm still expected to churn out two scripts by the end of this week. Such is life. Better put on my big girl pants and suck it up.

I hope everyone is keeping safe, warm, and flood-free!

life in boxes

2011-09-17T07:46:00.001+08:00

We're moving! Hurray!! . . . not. I'm not at all excited about this, but in the spirit of keeping emo posts off this blog, I'd rather not get into details.

Anyway, I just finished packing a third of my room about an hour ago and because I've practically consumed a month's worth of coffee while I was hard at work last night, I decided to just blog about it now because my eyes and my brain still wouldn't let me sleep.

The move doesn't actually happen until the 22nd, but I figured I needed to start packing my stuff early because this weekend is going to be busy with work and errands and next week is going to be twice the hell this week was. The first things I had to put away were my shoes because these past few months, they've spilled out of my closet and into my bedroom floor. In fact, I have a few bruises right now as a result of me tripping over these itinerant shoes.

OK, sorting this mess out was a freaking nightmare because I couldn't find the right shoe boxes for some of them. I'm kind of OC when it comes to these things, so I wasted a considerable amount of time turning my room upside down (like it wasn't already) looking for the "right" boxes. After searching for an hour and realizing that it's a lost cause, I got over it and just grabbed whatever box was available. I also had to let go and throw out some pairs that I haven't worn in years. Some were still in OK shape so it was really a waste to just chuck them. But the problem is, there is no one else I know who wears the same size as I do. Too bad.

I tried to be as organized as possible so I made labels for my shoes and taped them on the topmost box to avoid misplacing them in the impending confusion and chaos.

I printed other labels for my books, clothes (not seen), and chaos boxes too. As for the shoes with no proper boxes, I googled their pictures and taped them on the available boxes to help me identify them later on.

The biggest challenge I had with this packing business was finding a box to keep all my books in. I don't know how many books I have exactly, but I have two overflowing bookshelves in my room and a few more paperbacks scattered in and around my desk, display cabinet, and my mom's bookshelf. Thankfully, my mom bought these huge balikbayan boxes (20"x20"x20") for me to use. In the end, I was able to cram all my books and some magazines in two boxes, but now I realize that there's no way I'd be able to lift these stuff without superhuman strength. Oh well, that's what brothers are for.

I've managed to pack all of my shoes, books, toys/plushies, framed photos, CDs/DVDs, cassette tapes (yes, I still have those), and other trinkets/dust-catchers and label them accordingly. By Monday, I hope to pack some of my clothes already. And if you know me enough, you'd probably know better than expect that to actually happen.

september in the hizzouse!

2011-09-07T21:34:00.004+08:00

The world seems to start looking and spinning differently every time September pulls up and knocks on your front door, doesn't it? Maybe it's because we Filipinos take the -ber months seriously, and September is first in line. (It won't be long before the malls and department stores start stocking up on Christmas trees now.)

In my case, I guess it's because September also happens to be my birthday month. Last year (OMG it's already been a year?!), I hied off to Dumaguete and spent a week by myself, exploring the city and searching, uh, my soul. I'd like to think that I came back a better and happier person after that trip. That one short week I spent in a foreign place with no one but strangers to talk to was, without doubt, the moment that I felt I was most myself. This is gonna sound extra cheesy, but yeah, that trip gave me a better idea of who I am. So cheers to you, Dumaguete. I shall always think fondly of you.

This year, however, I'm kind of stumped. I don't have anything planned for my birthday yet, which is kind of unusual for me. It's not that I always celebrate with a party. It's just that, usually, I already know exactly what I want to do for my big day weeks or even months before it happens--whether it's a simple get-together with friends, dinner with my family, or getting on a plane. And if I don't have a party, I always do something else to mark the day. (In college, I used to get my ears pierced every year. Oh to be young and somewhat pointless/irrelevant.)

Anyway, I've been toying around with some ideas in my head, but for some reason, I just can't commit to any of them. Here's a few things I *thought* I could do to mark my 2_th year:

1. Go somewhere - First of all, I haven't made any reservations nor do I have any idea where I want to go. But that's not really why I can't go anywhere for my birthday. I kind of made a promise earlier in the year that 2011 is going to be the year that I save and get insured. And that means no crazy expenses.

2. Get inked - I've been hankering to get a tattoo for as long as I can remember, but one thing always stops me dead on my tracks every time I think about getting one: keloid. My skin is unpredictable when it comes to scars, and I never know when a wound is going to heal okay or leave a mark. If someone can enlighten me about how tattoos and keloid work, I'll be all set (I already have a design).

3. Get photographed - By these girls. But . . . I've always felt like I should have a very important reason or milestone before I do this. Maybe for my 30th birthday? Holy shit, that number gives me the shivers. Or maybe when I finally lose the last 15lbs that I'm trying to get rid off. Hmm . . .

Anyway, I'm pretty sure that no matter what I do or don't do on that day, I'd still be surrounded by people I genuinely care about and who cares about me in spite of my shortcomings and tendency to be on another planet. Besides, who knows, something fun and exciting could come up.

PS:

Today really sucks. I have fever and bad colds. This is a haiku. (Go ahead, count it. ^^)

review: three zombies

2011-08-23T17:52:00.004+08:00

By now, I guess most of you already know that I have an almost unhealthy fixation for the undead. Ya know, zombies. But only in movies and books because it would be weird to obsess about them in real life. (OK, you got me. I have totally obsessed about them in real life.) It's actually kind of ironic because I'm the biggest sissy in the planet when it comes to all things bloody and gory. But I don't know, there's just something about the blood-curdling undead that I find very entertaining and fascinating. So it shouldn't come as a surprise that I've watched a fair share of zombie movies. (And by "a fair share" I mean a lot more than you will probably ever want to see in your lifetime but still far less than what any self-respecting zombie fan should have already immersed himself into.)

A lot of other zombie fans and critics would often say that the genre is an allegory of consumerism, of our insatiable desires, and of social disintegration. That may be true, especially if you take into consideration that George A. Romero's works, which many credit for bringing the genre to the forefront and doing so in such a fantastically cinematic way, are also ripe with social commentary. In my case, the fascination, I guess, lies in these movies' ability to make me contemplate just what it means to be a person, to be human. When stripped of everything that has come to define our civilized existence, will survival be everything that matters? Would you still want to be alive in a world where all you're really good for is a zombie's brunch or midnight snack? That and the fun thought of shooting the bejeezus out of the most annoying people in your life without the guilt or the consequences (just be careful you don't get bit in the process).

Needless to say, there are tons of movies out there about the perpetually hungry, undead horde. I'm not an expert on the genre, but based on what I've seen, these movies will range from the oh-my-god-are-those-intestines-why-am-I-watching-this-shit gory (Automaton Transfusion), the smartly and unrelentingly terrifying and surprisingly poignant (28 Days Later, REC), the undisputed classics (Dawn of the Dead, Night of the Living Dead), to the horror-comedy hybrids (Shaun of the Dead, Zombieland). However, with its swarm of low-to-non-existent-budget crap, finding a good zombie movie (such as those mentioned) is almost a rare occurrence. Then again, I can't blame these filmmakers. Most zombie fans are in it for the gore and the bites, and as long as the movie has an abundance of those (the more blood spilled and guts chewed, the better) then the director has done his job. Besides, zombies don't know what an Oscar is. But, you know, sometimes, a girl has got to have some standards. Even if it's only about her zombie movies.

So now I give you three zombie movies that I've watched in a span of three days. I highly recommend them if you like more meat (pun intended) in your undead movies and are a firm believer that just because it's low-budget doesn't mean it has to be crap (I'm looking at you, American directors).

1. La Horde aka The Horde (2009)

Directed by Yannick Dahan and Benjamin Rocher
Country: France

Photo courtesy of insidepulse.com

The Pitch: A team of French police officers seeks revenge after one of their own was tortured and killed by a notorious drug leader and his gang. They arrive at the dilapidated apartment building where the baddies are hiding out, not knowing that they're about to face a more sinister enemy later on. Both sides will need to work together if they don't want to be zombie snacks. Carnage ensues.

The Review: La Horde has a lot of awesome things going for it. Guns (lots and lots of guns), badass characters, good-looking zombies (in a zombie kind of way, I don't mean "handsome"), and epic scenes. And I mean epic. Like I've mentioned earlier, I've been exposed to a good amount of zombie films and I gotta say that La Horde has delivered my favorite "Die, zombie, die!" moment. Let me show you what I'm talking about:

&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Th&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;That (zombie)ass-kicking girl is Aurore, and she really, really hates undead bitches creeping up at her and her friends. And the best part is, this isn't even the movie's most memorable scene.

La Horde is filled with action, adrenaline, and awesome zombie kills. But aside from strewing guts all over the screen, the movie also attempts to add some dimension into its characters and even tries to pose the "Who's the real monster here? Them or us?" question. Although the plot and story development themselves are not original, La Horde impresses because of the intensity of its characters and the claustrophobic aspect of its setting. Not to mention that it probably has better production value than over half of the zombie films that came out in recent years combined.

There's a few faults here and there, like how they never seem to wrap their heads around the fact that only headshots can stop their persistent attackers, but overall, La Horde is certainly entertaining and a true standout.

2. Rammbock: Berlin Undead aka The Siege of the Dead (2011)

Directed by Marvin Kren

Country: Germany

Photo courtesy of listal.com

The Pitch: Everyman Michael shows up in Berlin to try and win her girlfriend back, under the pretext of returning her apartment's keys. Gabi, the woman he loves, left him after seven years to move to the big city and their relationship went downhill from there. Michael arrives at the building, and even remembers to practice his lines, but no one was in Gabi's apartment save for a pissed-off plumber and his teenage apprentice, Harper. A few minutes later, the plumber attacks both Michael and the boy and they find themselves trapped inside the apartment while a rabble of blood-thirsty, brain-eating zombies pound at the door and roam the courtyard below. A quick peek out the window and they see some of Gabi's neighbors in the same situation as they are. Carnage ensues. Well, kinda.

Rammbock: Berlin Undead's official trailer. Sauerkraut, anyone?

The Review: I guess you could say that as far as story goes, La Horde and Rammbock are the opposite of each other. That's not necessarily a bad thing because while I felt that La Horde's attempt to add drama was a little off and contrived, Rammbock succeeds in adding depth to what is apparently Germany's first dip into the zombie apocalypse pool.

If you like your undead movies messy, bloody, and with lots of bites, Rammbock isn't for you. It is, first and foremost, a story of love and loyalty, which just happens to be set during a zombie outbreak. There are no memorable zombies here, like Bub in Day of the Dead. No awesome zombie annihilation scenes. No gruesome bites to make you squirm in your seats. What it has are ordinary people dealing with an extraordinary situation the best way they can. Michael is a likeable guy, and you feel for him. He's got a lot of heart, and he tries his best not to lose his head and the woman he loves.

For a zombie movie, it's pretty tame, which may turn off most fans of the genre. But if you're like me, who tend to look away during zombie lunch scenes and are mostly in it for the characters and the story, then you've struck gold with Rammbock. Embrace it—but not too tightly 'cause you'll never know when the zombie teeth comes out.

3. Pontypool (2009)

Directed by Bruce McDonald
Country: Canada

Photo courtesy of famousmonstersoffilmland.com

The Pitch: Sarcastic shock-jock Grant Mazzy used to be somebody, but now he spends his workweek in a small radio station at the basement of a church in sleepy Pontypool. On air, he's joined by his trusty traffic reporter Ken on the Sunshine Chopper and the occasional morning callers. The aging DJ wants to relive his glory days by adding flair and sparking intrigue through his show but his stressed-out and beleaguered producer Sydney Blair keeps a rein on him. He goes on to do his usual duties, announcing weather reports, class cancellations, and missing cats, while Sydney and production assistant Laurel Ann try their best to keep him in check. Everything seems to just be another snowy day at work until Laurel Ann picks up a broadcast on the wire about a hostage situation. At first, it turns out to be "just drunk fishermen" but things start to escalate in another part of town where a huge mob, mumbling unintelligible words, tries to overrun a doctor's clinic. The feeling of dread starts to fill the basement station. Implied carnage ensues.

Pontypool's official trailer. If it's really shut up or die, then I'm so dead.

The Review: Ah, Pontypool. I've written about how La Horde and Rammbock represent two different zombie movies, but Pontypool, based on the book "Pontypool Changes Everything" by Tony Burgess, who also wrote the screenplay, fits in neither of those types. No, friends, because Pontypool is a different beast altogether. It's a zombie movie with lots of brains (haha sorry for the pun, couldn't resist). Out of the three, it's probably what frightened me the most—and not in any of the typical ways that an undead horde would scare you, especially since almost all of the supposed blood-drenched action are happening off-screen. And that's what makes the movie really scary—you're left to imagine the horrors engulfing the small town, making you just as frightened and as clueless as the three people you're watching on screen.

Stephen McHattie, who plays radio DJ Grant Mazzy, is all kinds of awesome in this film. From the moment he comes on screen, driving along an incredibly dark road in the middle of a heaven-help-me snowfall, you know it's his fucking show. He's jaded, edgy, compelling, and delivers an engaging performance that alternates between thoughtful and somber and intense and feverish. His chemistry and relationship with his producer Sydney is realistic and true to form, making them more like a bickering but still loving married couple rather than colleagues.

As for the zombies themselves, well, there can be a debate on that. I guess Pontypool pushes the boundaries of what a zombie is supposed to be, because unlike the brain-dead creatures we've come to know, the Pontypool zombies can actually talk. The virus that infects the townspeople spreads itself through the human language (hence, the shut up or die tagline). It starts with simple everyday words like terms of endearment or baby talk that gets stuck in the infected's head. The person repeats it over and over, goes into a delusional rambling, seeks out other speakers, and tries to eat the words out of their mouths. I know, I know. My words don't do the plot justice, so it's best to see it for yourself. Even if you're not a fan of the genre, you'll be able to appreciate the film's intelligence, inventiveness, and disturbing possibilities. So watch it but don't try to understand it. That sounds kind of weird, but you'll know what I'm talking about.

review: stake land

2011-08-21T01:19:00.008+08:00

Vampires like babies. (Make sure it's really quiet when you watch it.)

You know you're watching a good vampire movie when the opening scene has you face-to-face with a vampire eating a baby. Yes, you heard me. A baby. Who in shiny, big-budget Hollywood has the guts (no pun intented) to put that in a film? Fucking no one. And that's why Stake Land, an independent production directed by Jim Mickle, should be the vampire movie we should all be raving about (well, this and Let Me In / Let the Right One In). OK, maybe not, but it's pretty close.

Photo courtesy of moviesarefilms.com

Don't get fooled, though, because as gruesome as the title sounds (and as evil and disturbing that opening scene was), Stake Land is not a blood and guts kind of film. It doesn't use violence and gore to move the story along nor does it rely on cheap scare tactics. This film has, believe it or not, a real story. And although the story itself is not entirely breaking boundaries or something we haven't seen before (a vampire epidemic spreads around the world and our teen protagonist is taken in by a mysterious vampire-hunter, together they travel to New Eden formerly known as Canada), the story-telling and the approach to the genre are compelling and fresh enough to keep you invested in the story and have you rooting for the characters.

Stake Land isn't just a horror movie as elements of coming-of-age, road trips, and post apocalyptic stories, with a dash of religious commentary, are all embedded into the film. Think of it as the halfway stop you make as you go from Zombieland to The Road. While it was obviously shot on a meager budget, the film still manages to convincingly map out the "new" American territories and paint an accurate picture of a world where humans are prey not just for vampires but even for other men as well.

Stake Land Trailer

But no movie is ever perfect (well, maybe the LoTR series), and Stake Land certainly has a few misses of its own. For starters, the vampires are more like zombies actually, which I didn't mind, but when Mister, the mysterious vampire hunter played by Nick Damici, started explaining the different types of vamps (but there are none that sparkle), I still couldn't tell one from the other (nor how many kinds there are exactly). Part of the popularity of vampires in our culture is their mystery and "personal" histories. You know, the usual how they were turned, how they survived the centuries, how they saw the world change, etc. So if you're looking for that kind of vampire (because I was), well, you're in for a disappointment. Although to be fair, the movie never prided itself with the Anne Rice type of creatures of the night. Secondly, I'm a sucker for real payoffs and good endings—not necessarily happy ones but just good, satisfying, I-can-sleep-soundly-now-because-I-know-what-became-of-everyone ones. Yeah well, this film kind of falls short on that too. But in hindsight, maybe that was the film's point—you know, the whole "sometimes it's not the destination but the journey" thing?

The reason this film stands out from all the other low-budget productions that flooded the genre in recent years is because Stake Land isn't trying to be all Twilight on you. For one, it's surprisingly well-acted (Connor Paolo, a.k.a. Serena's gay brother Eric from Gossip Girl, was great in this film and so was Nick Damici who also co-wrote the film) with the right amount of moodiness and fear factor to keep you on the edge of your seat but will also allow you to lean back, think, and empathize, or as what Slant Magazine said, "it's slick, scary, and occasionally poignant." Couldn't agree more.

well-heeled

2011-08-10T17:03:00.000+08:00

This is for everyone who gives me the stinky eye and looks at me like I've just committed a crime every time I go out of the house wearing high heels. Guess what? It's not actually illegal for tall girls to wear shoes that are more than an inch high. Now you know.

the kitchen situation

2011-08-03T23:57:00.001+08:00

The other day, for some unexplainable reason, I suddenly had an overwhelming desire to cook. Actually, now that I think about it, I think I can explain why. See, when you're trying to lose weight by counting the calories of everything that goes through your mouth, the kind of food that your household eats becomes an issue. My family loves to eat meat—and not the lean and healthy kind. Think adobo, sinigang, lechon kawali, pork chop, liempo, binagoongang baboy. Pick any dish from that list and I can tell you we've had it for lunch or dinner at least once this week. So yeah, it's a struggle trying to keep the calories down when you're staring on a succulent hunk of crispy pata on the dinner table.

With the exception of my mom, who most of the time only eats oatmeal or rice porridge, apple-and-carrot slushie, and the occasional fish or chicken (I don't know how she does it), I'm alone in my war against fat. Though my household has been very supportive and encouraging of my quest, they have not changed the way they eat. I had no choice but to buy my own low-calorie snacks to nibble on during those days when I can't afford to gobble on rice and pork chop anymore. It has helped me get through the hunger pains, but then the sense of deprivation would start to kick in. And if there's one thing I learned about dieting, it's that feeling deprived is the first step to full-on bingeing. And that, my friend, is not something that you want to happen. Besides, man can't live on Skyflakes and dinner rolls alone (other things that I now know I can't live alone on: The Sims 3, shoes, and Swamp People). I need real food. Delicious, delicious food that would make me forget that I'm on a 1300-calorie diet without making me feel guilty once reality sinks in.

I guess it all started last week when I found myself craving for good ol' tomato and basil pasta after I learned that, again, we were having pork for dinner. It's not easy to turn your back and walk away from a juicy slab of inihaw na liempo (trust me, I know), but there comes a point when you have to take a stand. I don't care what Anthony Bourdain says, but there is such a thing as too much pork.

Last night, while waiting for my eyes to get tired and fall asleep, I found myself browsing for recipes on the Food Network web site (and getting myself hungry in the process) that would be easy for a kitchen n00b like me to cook. I thought that the tomato and basil pasta I was craving for was simple enough that I can cook it with my eyes closed, but—confession time—I have never actually cooked pasta on my own ever because it's either I end up burning the sauce or forgetting that sogginess is not what makes a good pasta. I needed to double check on the recipe and procedure, and because I knew that it wouldn't be a big hit on my brother (his idea of good pasta is Jollibee spaghetti), I decided to find a chicken recipe that my whole family would like. I finally settled on parmesan chicken because I'm familiar with all the ingredients, and from reading the procedure, it actually looked simple (turns out it really is but I need to figure out how not to burn the crust).

Long story short, I cooked both the pasta and the chicken for dinner tonight and added salad greens in my improvised lemon vinaigrette. According to my one and only critic (my brother), he would give the pasta a 7 out of 10 because I put too much tomatoes (which I did on purpose because I looove tomatoes) and the parmesan chicken a 9 because I didn't make gravy (I kept explaining that it didn't need gravy but he wouldn't budge). The bad news is, my brother was probably just being kind and really hungry so don't take those ratings seriously. On the other hand, I didn't see any of my family members throw up or turn green as soon as they ate my food so I take that as a good thing.

Also, I know what you're thinking. I'm blogging about cooking but I have no pictures to show for it?! Gasp! Maybe I didn't cook at all and I just made this whole thing up so I'll have something to blog about! Duuudes, you'll just have to take my word for it. If this cooking thing proves to not be a passing fancy of mine and I actually find myself in the kitchen again (I never realized how exhausting it is to cook), I'll remember to take pictures. But don't hold me to that.

Edit 08/04/11: I made a new batch of parmesan chicken today (from yesterday's extra ingredients) and there's still a couple servings worth of leftover pasta. I also successfully cooked the chicken without burning the crust. Take a gander.

This is a very sloppy food shot (omg the food on the plate are touching each other!), but I guess we can just agree to let that slide since I never said anything about taking a "good" picture. So can you guess which cherry tomato decided it still wasn't his time to get eaten and made a very misguided attempt to escape by rolling off and falling on the floor? And do you think I still ate it even if the five-second rule had already elapsed? I'm afraid you may never know.

monday mixtape vol 2

2011-07-25T10:00:00.003+08:00

This month's edition of Monday Mixtape is a week late, but it's kind of on purpose. In honor of Incubus's upcoming Manila concert this July 28 (which I'm going to watch!!!), I wanted to do a mix of my favorite Incubus songs of all time. I thought I'd just post it on the week of the concert itself instead of last week to make it more relevant. But I'm pretty sure no one would buy that, so fine, I admit it. I'm just not that good with keeping up with schedules, especially the ones I impose on myself. Anyway, just be kind to me and pretend that you believe the first reason, OK?

Side A

1. Familiar
2. Crowded Elevator
3. Redefine
4. A Certain Shade of Green
5. Diamonds and Coal

6. You Will Be a Hot Dancer

Side B

7. Hilikus
8. Summer Romance (Anti-Gravity Love Song)
9. Stellar
10. Mexico
11. I Miss You

Bonus Tracks:

12. No Scrubs (Incubus cover)

13. Still Not A Player (Incubus feat. Big Pun)

meet my families part 3

2011-07-22T02:04:00.008+08:00

For this installment of my Sims 3 updates, I bring you Aida and Christian Geiger. This newlywed couple just moved into their new-ish house and is basically just starting to figure out how this married life thing works.

Aida is the quintessential "nice girl" who loves her family, her friends, and yes, even her suckfest of a job (she's presently at the bottom rung of the corporate ladder). She likes to stay at home, cook, read books, and watch plays and symphonies at the local theater. She and Christian met in high school and have been together ever since. Her father is a journalist while her mom works at the bookstore part-time. She has an older sister, who's married to a superstar athlete; a younger brother, who's still in high school; and an identical twin sister, who's kind of her opposite.

Christian hails from Sunset Valley's most influential family. His father used to be the Leader of the Free World (yes, that's what his job title was in the game) before he retired to a life of pure decadence and filthy rich-ness, and his still-very-hot mother is an accomplished musician and (Sim)world-famous conductor. His two younger siblings, Christina and adopted brother Christoph, are both still in high school.

Being raised in such a prominent and affluent family, one would think that Christian has it easy. But no, not our dear old Christian. He's determined to make it on his own terms (and break away from the cheesy family tradition of giving names that start with the letter C to their offspring), and although he eventually followed his dad's footsteps (he's a campaign intern at the city hall right now), no one can accuse him of riding in his father's coattails . . . and live. Actually, that's not true. He's kind of a wimp so he'll probably just whine and cry for mommy even if you start hurling expletives at him. Anyway, he says that the secret to his and Aida's wonderful relationship is their growing list of shared interests. They both like to just relax at home and enjoy the simpler things in life. In other words, they're both boring.

As soon as the couple married, they quickly moved into this modest house in one of Sunset Valley's quiet suburb. This house used to belong to a lovely old couple (I actually made them to look like the old couple in the animated movie, "Up"), but sadly, they have long since died and the house was left in shambles. With the little savings they had in their pockets, Adia and Christian bought the house and quickly got to work in renovating it. They consciously tried to move as far away from their families as possible since Christian's parents are quite overbearing while Adia's can be very nosy and just plain weird.

This is their living room slash dining area. Can you believe they don't have a TV?! That is completely preposterous!

They also have a tiny reading nook at the foot of the staircase. To the left of the bookshelf is their kitchen and the door that leads to the backyard.

This is the hallway upstairs, and the door on the left leads to the couple's bedroom. They actually had to repaint, refloor, and redecorate the entire house. When everything was finished, they only had a whopping 877 simoleons left in their household funds. (For reference, 1 simoleon = 1 dollar.)

Yeah, somebody went postal with the floral patterns and wallpaper. Anyway, the house only has one bedroom, and with their tiny living and dining area, they can't really invite people over for parties and such, which, come to think, isn't really that much of a bother since 1) they don't like throwing parties, and 2) even if they did like to throw parties, I doubt anyone of their friends would attend. Did I mention they were a boring couple?

As you can see, modern-style houses are surrounding the Geigers' home (seen on the right) and they're starting to stick out like a very sore thumb. You see, this wasn't always the case. When the couple moved into this part of town, this neighborhood was pretty much a ghost town. They only had one neighbor along this street (a porn star named Kenneth Montoya), and all the houses were pretty much run-down and dilapidated. Soon after the couple moved in, some real estate developer (that would be me) bought the lots and decided to turn the neighborhood around. All houses, except the Geigers', were demolished and new ones were built. In a few months time, more Sims started to move in, including Christian's cousin, Bailey Wainwright (their mothers are sisters), and her fiance, Tristan Verona, who now live right across the street.

not a relapse

2011-07-15T14:06:00.004+08:00

Just in case anyone is wondering, don't worry, my two-week absence is not a foreboding of yet another blogging coma. The spirit of blogging is very much alive and well, and my desire to blog is lit up like 4th of July celebrations in Ted Nugent's backyard.

I actually have a list of things to blog about, just so you know. I've made about three or four mental posts in the last two weeks, so technically, I haven't been slacking. I just didn't have the time to write (type) them down because I've been so busy blowing up zombie brainsss and sippin' sizzurp in my ride like Three 6, which is why right now, I'm feelin' so fly like a G6. Wait, what? What do you mean that's not a real answer? Fine. Here's the real answer: I like money (don't act like you don't), and the only way to get the money I want is to work. And work means time away from blogging. So until this blog starts signing my checks and making monthly deposits in my bank account, I'm afraid it will always take a back seat to my money-making activities. Judge me.

intervention?

2011-07-01T19:05:00.002+08:00

Remember when I said that it would totally suck if the Rapture actually happened last May because I haven't gotten the shoes I bought online yet? You don't? Well, here you go. Now you have no excuse.

So anyway, they're here! But before anything else, if you're planning to buy online from US stores, you better have stacks upon stacks of patience at your disposal because it takes FOREVER for them to arrive on your doorstep. As a point of reference, forever = 1.5 months. Two months if Customs is being a bitch (which is always). To get through the long and dreary days of waiting, I just force myself to forget that I bought something and just let the courier surprise me. However, this trick always fails and crumbles as soon as my credit card bill hits my mailbox.

I was told by my father to consider the possibility that I may have a spending problem. I wouldn't blame him for saying that because in the couple of weeks that he's been home, he's already seen four new shoes in my closet, not to mention the clothes I bought from Debenhams's end of season sale last week. I just let out a loud sigh before I launched an impassioned defense, explaining that I need these shoes and that I have to make the sacrifice of spending more money buying online because it's almost impossible to find shoes in my size anywhere in this country. I would've gone for my plan B, which is the old tears-and-parents-just-don't-understand trick (and if that didn't work, my plan C was to blame him and his genes for my height and big feet), but I remembered that that only worked if you're still 16. He gave me a noncommittal shrug and a "just make sure you don't break your ankle." (Also, can you imagine having a conversation with your father about, of all things, shoes?) So I guess this means I won't have to deal with an intervention anytime soon. *evil smirk*

I wouldn't have bought these shoes if they weren't on sale because no matter how you look at it, $95 + tax + shipping for one pair of shoes is just too much. And believe it or not, I do realize that there are far more important things in this world than a gorgeous pair of shoes. Granted, I can only think of few, but you gotta give it to me for not being blind, right?

Shoes #1: Baby Phat, Sybil (get them in tan/champagne)

Shoes #2: Vigotti Cilicia (on sale for $31 instead of $95)

recent acquisitions

2011-06-28T20:26:00.014+08:00

Bottom right: (L-R) 1932 Ford, 1964 Impala, 1967 Dodge Charger, 1982 Firebird.

I honestly don't think that a person has to stop appreciating and playing with toys (or watching cartoons, as long as we're on the subject) just because he's already an "adult." And I'm talking about the real kind, not the grown-up toys like gadgets or cars. Granted, a 40-year-old man in a business suit playing with a plushie may be a tad weird, but hey, who am I to judge? Especially if I have a growing giraffe plushie collection myself.

I love vintage things, especially vintage cars. Sadly, I neither have the money nor the motoring skills required to drive around one of those. The closest I can get to owning one is thru vintage Matchbox cars, which, I think, are just as awesome. Perspective, people. It's all about perspective.

Brown organic ballet flats from zoe&zac via Payless-Shangri-la; hot pink basket weave flats from Parisian-SM Dept. Store.

These shoes remind me of ice cream. Another thing they also remind me of is my inability to have any semblance of self-control when it comes to ~~shoes~~ shopping. Remember that commercial about the kids having their EQs tested by not eating the cookie? Those cute little munchkins who managed to keep their hands off the cookie jar have got life all figured out. Good for them. Me? I would totally fail that test. Even as a grown-up. Sad, I know.

Also, it's either my feet are shrinking or shoe sizes have become more generous because both these shoes are one size smaller than my usual elevens. Pretty awesome I should say because now I not only have cute shoes but they also make me feel a little less of a freak. That's what I call #WINNING.

a weighty update

2011-06-27T04:45:00.008+08:00

In the interest of honesty and full disclosure, I'm going to go ahead and say that I really didn't want to make this post. Why? Well because it takes a very well-adjusted and secure individual to post pictures of her not-even-close-to-perfect body so that it can be judged by the whole world and that individual I am not—close, but not quite. (Don't worry, no half-naked pics here. I care about your eyes. Also, this is going to be long, I know it. Feel free to skip to the last part.)

Then again I thought that since I've already made it public that I'm trying to lose weight and have pretty much evangelized about calorie counting, it's only fair that I post an update as to how I've been faring in my eternal struggle against fat and all things sweet and creamy and make sure that I not only talked the talk but also walked the walk. Besides, nobody likes to be kept hanging. It's like going on an incredible date with a guy who convinces you that he's soo into you but then never bothers to call you even after the Three-Day Rule had already expired weeks ago. What's up with that, guy? Don't you know that girls—sorry, I digress. (Disclaimer: This did not happen to me in real life. No, really. It didn't. But if you're a guy and you're reading this, you should totally feel guilty and call me that girl. Like, right now. Pretty please?)

So, where were we? Oh yeah, the calorie business. Officially, it's been close to four months since I started this new "technique" and the verdict is in. So far, I've lost a total of—drumroll please—30 lbs and almost 2 inches on my waist. I deserve a cookie, yes? No? I hate chu.

Just so we're clear here, I am not starving myself to death. That I will not and can never do. Like I said in my older post, I eat what I want but in smaller portions. The most drastic change I can think of is reducing my rice consumption to one cup a day, something that requires an almost Herculean effort because I've been a rice person since birth. Half at lunch, half at dinner, or sometimes, one cup at lunch and none for dinner.

However, being the mere mortal that I am, I admit that there have been ~~a few~~ a lot of times when I've deliberately disregarded the fact that I must now live on a 1300-calorie diet, perhaps for the rest of my life. Especially if cake is involved. Last April, in particular, was a really bad month for me. The first two weeks was a complete fail as far as sticking to my dietary allowance is concerned (thanks a lot, birthday parties). Although to my credit, I never went into an all-out food binge, and I never exceeded 1800 calories during days when I was too weak to resist temptation.

The latter part of April up to the first couple weeks of May was just as discouraging as well. I wasn't losing any more weight despite being stricter on my diet, and that's when I realized that I've hit a weight loss plateau. My body has already adapted to my new diet so it was also burning less calories daily and my basal metabolic rate has decreased (more about BMR here). I admit that it got pretty frustrating, but I just comforted myself with the fact that at least I wasn't gaining weight. Weight loss experts mention that the best way to overcome a plateau is to add diversity and intensity to your exercise routine. This will prompt your body to get out of its "comfort zone." In a perfect world, this is what I would do too (actually, scratch that because in a perfect world, I would be three sizes smaller already), but I'm lazy and as far as gyms are concerned, I'm commitment-phobic. Giving up pastries and chocolate and ice cream is one thing. Sticking to a strict exercise routine like my salvation depended on it is another. I enjoy jogging, yes, but I don't need a drill sergeant/gym instructor giving me the stinky eye if he sees me slacking off on his exercise plan, thank you very much.

To get out of this rut, I just stuck to what I was already doing and decided to reduce my calorie intake and to eat more frequently to speed up metabolism. I did this for two weeks, and by the end of May, the scale showed me the result I was hoping for. I won't recommend this to everyone though. Exercise is and will always be better. Right now, I've readjusted my calorie consumption to allow for my new BMR, and I think it's working out fine. So far, I've hit all the monthly weight goals I've set for myself in spite of the numerous setbacks.

And now—deep breath—the pictures.

This was taken in Anawangin, a week before I officially started my diet.

This is me playing dress up just a week ago. I understand that this one here is a possible contender for the crown of crappiest picture of all crappy pictures, but Photobooth can only do so much. If you're so offended by them, feel free to buy me a camera. Lumix LX3, anyone?

First things first: did you really skip to this part or not? Be honest. And yes, those are tags you see on the blazer and on the dress because I'm classy like that. No but seriously, I got those months ago, but I haven't worn them out to anywhere yet because I purposely bought them in smaller sizes to serve as my motivation. To me, the most effective way of measuring my progress is thru clothes. I have a face-off with the scale every end of the month, but nothing says good job better than slipping with ease into clothes that you used to fight and wrestle with just to get your arm out the hole. Needless to say, I often lost that battle, and in true walk of shame fashion, I would end up reaching for the stretchy tops that have become my best friends for the past year while silently dying inside. But this time, I win. Today, size 12. Tomorrow, the world!

monday mixtape vol. 1

2011-06-21T20:52:00.022+08:00

If you grew up before the era of mp3s and iPods, chances are, you'll know what a mixtape is. For the kids of today, think of it as a short playlist on your mp3 player of choice. Only it's on a cassette tape, which is a hundred times bigger than your minuscule music players, and it kind of looks awkward if you clip it on your shirt or let it hang around your neck. (If you don't know what a cassette tape is, google it. But if you want to see it "live," try digging around your basement or garage. It's right next to the VHS and Betamax tapes.)

Back during the prehistoric times, also known as the mid to late 90s, I used to make a lot of mixtapes and depending on who you ask, that either makes me really cool or a complete dork. I would have a theme going, and I would choose the songs based on that theme. The albums I owned at the time were few (my weekly allowance didn't 't allow for much wiggle room) so if I wanted to include a song that I didn't have, I would have to get it the extra old school way: put a blank tape ready on the cassette player, let the radio play all day long, and make a mad scramble to hit the record button once the song I wanted comes on. Ah, the primitive times. Those days called for resourcefulness and creativity, which is probably why I took so much pride in my little musical endeavor. That and the fact that I get a special kind of satisfaction whenever a friend complimented my mixtape selections.

It's a nice feeling when you find a song that echoes your thoughts and emotions, but it's better when another friend can identify to that song as much as you do. Music has always played a great part in my life. No, I'm far from being musically gifted, but I don't need to be a rock star to appreciate and be moved by a song. I'm sure you all feel the same way too.

I'm actually feeling a bit nostalgic, and after having been inspired by another blogger, I've decided to make new mixtapes and share it here on my blog. Don't worry, I'm going to use mp3s this time (hurray for progress). That is, until I figure out a way to attach cassette tapes to this blog (hey, a girl can dream). Expect a new mixtape every third Monday of the month and cross your fingers that I keep this schedule because obviously, I'm already off to a bad start. I understand it's already Tuesday, and I actually considered renaming this thing to Tuesday Tixtapes just to save face and cover my ass, but for some reason, the name doesn't have the same ring to it. Maybe because even I don't know what a "tixtape" is supposed to be. Anyway, I just need you to work with me here. Let's all pretend it's still Monday, shall we? Yes? Awesome. You each get a metaphorical gold star.

For this month's theme, I decided to do life soundtrack. Yeah, not exactly original, but my intention here is to let the story unfold as you go from one song to the next. Not just any story but my story. If you do listen to these songs and somehow get an idea of who I am and what I've gone through by the end of it, then I'm happy. But I'd be way happier if you tell me that these songs spoke to you as well.

And so without further ado:

Side A

1. While the World Goes On - Buva

2. I Smoke A Lot - K's Choice

3. How to Fight Loneliness - Wilco

4. Champagne from a Paper Cup - Death Cab for Cutie

5. We're Just Friends - Wilco

6. The Chance I Deserve - Club 8

Side B

7. Smoke Without Fire - Duffy

8. Falling From Grace - Club 8

9. Off the Radar - Ally Kerr

10. If You're Feeling Sinister - Belle&Sebastian

11. I Feel Like Going Home - Yo La Tengo

Bonus Track

12. Don't Be So Cynical* - The Arrogants

*This would be my perfect wedding song.

happy father's day!

2011-06-19T17:28:00.010+08:00

It took a while before I realized this, but now I know that I am and will always be a Daddy's girl. Every son and daughter will always think of their fathers as the best ones in the world, and I am no different. But not only is my dad the best, but he's also the funniest of all. So, Daddy, thank you for all the words you've said and didn't say (so as not to hurt me), for not asking for expensive gifts (haha!), for giving me expensive gifts (keep 'em coming), for letting me hold the remote when we're watching late-night TV, for not flipping out when I crashed the car, for sharing my sweet tooth, for forcing me to eat vegetables when I was younger, for not forcing me to pick the course that you wanted, for paying for my education, for the roof over our heads, for my life, and for so much more. Happy Father's Day.

***

I wanted to post my dad's picture, but I know he would kill me. So for those of you who are curious, you'll just have to settle for this:

Yup, ladies and gentlemen. This is what my years of private education has come down to. Did I blow you guys away with my madd skillz in MS Paint? (Parents, I hope you're still proud of me.)

Edit: What's that? You like my MS Paint-ing so much that you want your own too? OK, let me think about it. Maybe I can do this by commission. Someday, my dear readers, someday. (And by "readers" I mean the lone and persistent stalker/follower who keeps popping up in my blog stats at odd hours. Geez, talk about creepy. Oh wait, that's just me. Oopsies.)

a love story

2011-06-11T23:11:00.008+08:00

Have you ever fallen in love with a stranger (you can count celebrities, if you want)? Because I have. Just today. But it's not what you think.

Not to get all mushy and lovey-dovey on you but I just want to get it out there that I'm in love with this girl. I just spent the entire afternoon adoringly poring over every single post on her blog. I'll say that again: Every. Single. Post. I haven't been that enamored with someone in forever. But again, it's not what you think.

You see, my love is mostly superficial and centered on her clothes (Ha! And you thought this was gonna be a circa 2006 emo post!). It started with a crush, which immediately turned into infatuation, and after today, I just want to bust out my sick rhyming skills and write poems professing never-ending love right after seeing this picture. I'm blown away. Her style is chic, on-trend, and polished, but still incredibly down-to-earth and relatable. Looking at all her outfits has encouraged me to dress better, to be more creative, and to cultivate my own style. She has also done something which I thought was impossible: inspire me to purge, organize, and shop my closet. Not to mention that she's also very funny. And ~~cute~~ gorgeous. It's too bad that she's married, and I'm not really much into girls. I would still totally elope with this entire outfit though, but then again too bad it's not a real person. And won't fit me.

I usually shy away from reading style blogs because it can be a very frustrating experience. Sometimes, these blogs are all about posting pictures of outrageous and expensive outfits that regular people can't even wear in real life. I just find it difficult to identify with them because I'm not stick thin and my personal style is nowhere near the edgy and quirky side. When it comes to clothes, I just want to look laid-back but polished and classic more than eccentric. I don't know if this is how Kendi herself would describe her style, but her outfits stir an inexplicable desire in me to break into her house and steal the contents of her closet. The only thing that stops me is the fact that she's three sizes smaller than I am, and I would have to chop off the top half of my toes to fit into her shoes. Oh, and also because Texas is 8,422 miles away, and I don't have a US visa.

Now I'm off to attempt cleaning my closet. There is absolutely nothing wrong and sad with spending a warm and perfect Saturday night blogging and cleaning your closet. Nothing at all. (I need to say this to myself over and over so I can sleep tonight.)

what's up?

2011-06-07T02:44:00.002+08:00

Well, I went to Forever21 today, tried a few tops and dresses, thought something didn't look right, figured it out, then called the sales lady to ask for a smaller size. That's what's up. Is there anything better than finding out that months of counting and skipping calories are finally paying off? I can only think of very few, my friends. Very few indeed.

I should also mention that I've finally been able to resurrect some of the old, "too small" clothes in my closet and have begun wearing them again. I remember being really frustrated before because I couldn't wear my favorite tops anymore. Well, they're back in my life again so I'm really glad I didn't throw them out. Hooray for small victories!

I have to confess something though. To celebrate this momentous occasion, I ate chocolate cake. For midnight snack. I feel so dirty.

shoesday!

2011-05-31T19:30:00.024+08:00

Don't you just hate Tuesdays? I do. When I was still a card-punching corporate slave, I especially hated going to work on this day. It's filled with all the leftover stress of a Monday, and unlike a Wednesday, it's still too early in the week to provide motivation for the weekend. Also, Tuesdays are bipolar--they're either fantastically boring or extremely toxic. Today was of the boring kind, and I was just about to write it off as the most boring Tuesday in the history of my life (well, not exactly, but you know what I mean) when the door bell rang and then bam! Boring Tuesday no more. Why? Because the first batch of shoes I bought online have finally made their way into my doorstep after their month-long transpacific journey! *throws confetti* Well-played, Tuesday, well-played. Until next week, that is.

And so without further ado:

I've always liked patent leather shoes because it gives an otherwise boring pair a little attitude. Another thing I also like are black pumps. They're pretty basic, and a lot of women would agree that it's an absolute staple. This pair is called the Karma Pumps from Dexter, featuring a classic round-toe design, 3.5-inch heels, and a lightly cushioned insole. I love how it's very simple, but the patent material makes it look more sophisticated and chic.

OK, the only reason I bought two black pumps is because I couldn't choose between the two. You know, sometimes, you're faced with a decision that you know you just can't make. In my case, this always happens with shoes. So here is the Fioni Mix Material Haven Pumps, which is pretty awesome with its faux suede, patent, and snake-print (not a real snake, OK?) upper. I loove the texture of this shoe, and just like the Karma pump, the fit is great.

And last but definitely not the least:

zoe&zac, a brainchild of model Summer Rayne Oakes, is an eco-friendly shoe brand who's proud of their "fresh green fashion." Not only do they make really cute sandals, heels, wedges, and flats, but they also make them with organic and recycled materials such as nickel-free and hypoallergenic hardware, organic cotton, recycled rubber, hemp, and faux leather.

This was on the cover of the shoe box. It's a great thing that more people from the fashion industry are stepping up to embrace eco-consciousness and sustainability in their products. Right now, vegan/organic shoes are a bit more expensive than regular pairs, but I wouldn't mind paying the extra amount if it means I'm leaving a smaller environmental footprint.

This strappy pair has a canvass upper, a floral-print lining, a 0.5-inch platform, and a back zipper detail. It's casual enough to wear with a pair of jeans or shorts, but I think this can easily be worn with dressier outfits as well.

I forgot to mention that this will add a whopping 4 inches to my 5'7" frame. I know, I know. This would make me a giant. But how can you resist this shoe? Hooww?

And now, a parting shot:

The first part of this post . . .

2011-05-22T14:20:00.025+08:00

. . . has nothing to do with the rest of this entry.

Earlier tonight, I received an SMS from one of my male friends whom I went to university with. I've known this guy for years. We used to talk a lot because we shared a lot of common interests (one of the very first things we talked about were dragons and WWE). He's also a writer, so sometimes, I would send him some of the stuff I write to ask for his opinion (which is kind of a big deal to me). But the funny thing is, we only actually became friends after we graduated (social networking sites, I salute thee). We never said a word to each other when we were still in school--not even a smile or a nod. So ever since we became friends, we have never actually seen each other. Weird, huh? We tried to meet up for coffee or drinks several times in the past, but it always gets cancelled for one reason or another. In the past year, however, we sort of lost touch. Probably because he got a new job, and I've turned into a recluse who has forgotten how to reply to text messages.

So here was how the exchange of messages went:

Friend: Hey.
Me: Hey back.
Friend: Do you remember when you said we should get wasted for New Year 2010? We're a year and a half late.
Me: I do now! Wow! I can't believe you remembered.
Friend: Just today, actually. I suddenly realized that had the world really ended yesterday, I'd have died before I could buy you a drink. That would've sucked. :-)
Me: Nah, it's fine. It's still a year and a half before December 2012. We got time, man. :D

That got me thinking. I never actually found out about the whole Rapture prediction until three days ago, so if the world really ended yesterday, I would have had a deer in headlights situation at the worst possible moment. Yeah, that would've sucked.

So the whole point of this post is:

The 10 Reasons Why It Would Have Sucked

Had The World Really Ended Yesterday

(in no particular order)

1. All the money I saved would be for nothing. Ugh. I knew I shouldn't have tried to be practical.

2. I didn't have cigarettes yesterday. (Can you imagine having the world end without getting to smoke one last stick?)

3. I will never get the shoes I ordered online, which would monumentally suck because if I'm going to die, I want to die in fab shoes. (And also because that shoe was hella expensive. #WHATISBROKE)

4. If the world ended yesterday, all those doomsday prophets with their crazy eyes and their "REPENT! THE END IS NEAR!!!" signs would have been right. I hate getting told "I told you so."

5. I haven't seen the most recent season of Supernatural yet. That would have helped me deal with the demons that will most probably roam Earth if, by some miracle, I survive the apocalypse.

6. I just paid my credit card last week. Had I known the world would end yesterday, I never would have bothered. Unless they take bad credit against you when you stand in front of the Pearly Gates.

7. I haven't seen Channing Tatum yet, goddammit!

8. If the world really ended yesterday, we'll never know who wins the NBA title (or American Idol) this year. ALSO, I have yet to see Bones and Booth get it on!

9. Speaking of getting it on, I will leave this one to your imagination. I try to keep things PG. ;-)

10. And lastly,

NO ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE?! THIS IS PREPOSTEROUS!!!

serious blogging (or, why I'm back to Blogger)

2011-05-22T03:42:00.004+08:00

I'm totally eating my words right now. Why, you ask, would I return to Blogger if I thought Wordpress was so awesome? I have two words for you: customized templates. Yeah, Wordpress is awesome with its really nice dashboard, stats monitoring, publishing options, and all that other cool Wordpress-y stuff. But I'm a cheapskate. I'm not going to pay for subscription or for a template just so I can customize the look of my blog.

You know that feeling when you're having a really great time while on vacation in some exotic place like Zanzibar (or Tondo, you're choice), and you feel like you can spend the rest of your life there and never want to go home? But then you have to because you're running out of money to spend (and you have a suspicion that the locals are starting to turn on you) and your boss is already raising hell because they're not paying you to go on long vacations, goddammit! And when you finally come home, you sort of dread the familiarity that the place brings? As if being there is a testament of how much your life really sucks.

Yeah, this is nothing like that. I'm just moving from one blog to another, but I like to be dramatic about it.

So yeah. Hello, again, Blogger--with your blue and tan dashboard, Trebuchet MS menus, your never-ending glitches and kinks, and lame URL extension. Ours is a love-hate relationship that has lasted through time. But hey, at least you let me do my magic on my blog templates, right? I'm not going to complain. For now.

Also, I'm back to blogging. With a vengeance. (In case you haven't noticed.)

Say what now?

2011-05-21T23:27:00.002+08:00

Ever since I was in kindergarten, I always get called out by my teachers for being talkative. (But I get my revenge. I also call them out for misspelling stuff they write on the blackboard. Yes, I was that kid in school. Oddly enough, I still managed to make some friends.) Needless to say, my mouth has gotten me into A LOT of sticky, embarrassing, earth-swallow-me-na situations in my life--at school, with my family and friends, at work, with the manang who used to sell okoy (is it okoy or ukoy? I never quite figured it out) at the St. Scho cafeteria (she wasn't appreciative of my personal dislike for anything with toge), and this really hot guy I was interviewing whom I was also kinda trying to impress. (I have since learned to not open my mouth when in the presence of impossibly hot guys.)

Now, I won't go into how words are something you can't take back yada yada yada. We already know that shit. We've been taught that since the day we first attended our Catechism and GMRC (Good Manners and Right Conduct, in case you didn't know) classes. Just so you know, I'm perfectly aware of this. Which is why, for the last few years, I have been putting a valiant effort to really watch my mouth, especially if I'm with people who have no clue that I have frequent bouts with verbal diarrhea. And . . . I'd like to think I've been somewhat successful (Right, friends? I'm right, right?).

That is, until a few days ago. Picture a party where you only personally know a quarter of the guests, add another quarter for familiar faces with no names you can attach to, and the rest are either complete strangers or the significant others of your friends. Now picture making new friends in that party and sitting with them on a corner while laughing, drinking, and making a fool out of yourselves--and then you just had to take it a step further by saying something incredibly awkward and weird when you thought you were being totally funny (It was funny to me!), and where the words "cheese grater," "defiler of women," and "first date" were all in the same sentence. Those fucking crickets, man. I swear I can still hear them as I write this.

PS:

DON'T ask.

PPS:

Congratulations! We just survived the end of the world! *throws confetti* NOW GIMME MY DAMN ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE!!!

review: mineral flowers

2011-04-25T20:58:00.003+08:00

First things first. I've never been one to make a fuss over the latest anti-aging creams or moisturizers, and my knowledge of them, at best, is limited to the commercials they show on TV. My beauty regimen, if you can even call it that, involves washing my face with water and whatever beauty soap I can find in my mom's bathroom.

Thanks to my mother's genes, I've never had any major problem with my skin. I've never experienced any serious breakouts, not even during puberty. But hey, I'm not getting any younger, and I've noticed that some lines under my eyes are beginning to appear. So I decided to chuck my old habits and start taking care of my skin for real. The problem is, I can never find a product that would agree with my skin until two months ago when I discovered Mineral Flowers.

Mineral Flowers rose and geranium line.

This extensive skincare line fuses--you guessed it--natural extracts from flowers and minerals with a special key ingredient: Dead Sea mud. Uh-huh, that's right. We've all heard of the wonders that bathing in the Dead Sea can do for your health and body because of the high mineral content of its mud and water. But since we obviously can't go there every time we need some skin pampering, this Israeli brand has decided to bring the Dead Sea to us! (Applause! Applause!)

Mineral Flowers uses Dead Sea mud, mineral water, bee's wax, flowers, and pomegranate juice and peel as a base to moisturize and renew the skin, then combining these with seaweed, fruit and vegetable extracts, and antioxidants.

Mineral Flowers is manufactured in Arad, Negev Desert, Israel, and promises to cleanse, smoothen, and renew the skin.

So far, I've tried their moisturizing day cream, night cream, and facial wash, and I must say I'm very satisfied with all of them. Between my smoking and irregular sleeping habits, I've seen how my skin has suffered little by little throughout the years. But as soon as I started using the moisturizer, there were immediate results. I've noticed that it makes the skin a lot softer and tighter, and I've never had to deal with breakouts.

Facial wash, day cream, and night cream with rose and geranium for normal and combination skin.

I'm also quite impressed with the facial wash because this is what my skin is most sensitive about. All of the products I've used in the past (with the exception of Olay Clarity and Olay cream cleanser) have caused me skin problems. I was really apprehensive to try this at first because of the history I've had with facial wash products. Plus, I already had a good thing going with Olay. But in the end, I'm glad that I did.

The facial wash feels nice to the touch, and I can say that the texture is unlike any facial wash I've ever tried. It's a water-based facial wash gel that's both light but still just a little bit foamy (if you like that sort of thing). It's been pretty effective so far--it cleanses your skin really well without ever drying it out.

Mineral Flowers comes in three variants: almond blossom for dry skin (green), chamomile for very dry and sensitive skin (yellow), and rose and geranium for normal and combination skin.

As for the moisturizing day cream and the night cream, they have the same consistency and texture. Smooth, light, and easy to manage and spread across the face. The reason I've never used creams in the past is because I hate the heavy and sticky feeling I get when I apply them--but not with Mineral Flowers. Another thing I really like about this line is its light, flowery scent. Since it's all organic and chemical-free, you don't get that strong scent that assault your nose.

My favorite among the three would have to be the day cream because it also works PERFECTLY under your makeup. I swear. Just apply some under your face powder and it helps even out your skin tone and retains your skin's glow. It also doesn't get cake-y, as with the case with some foundation, even if the weather is warm and you feel like you're sweating your face off. I've also tried the day cream with almond blossom (the green one) and it works just as great!

The Mineral Flowers travel kit retails for PhP630.00.

The moisturizing day cream retails for PhP248.00 and the night cream and facial wash are around the same price. I bought all three as a set for PhP630.00, which saves you about PhP100.oo. Mineral Flowers is available in selected Watson's and Beauty by SM branches (I get mine from Watson's-Gateway).

(In case you were wondering, I was not paid to write this. Haha!)

meet my families part 2

2011-04-25T18:52:00.006+08:00

It's time for another Sims post! Mwahahaha!

It's been a long time since I first blogged about my Sims and a lot of things (scandalous ones, at that) have already happened to them. I actually haven't been playing with my Sim families for a while now because of all the work I had to do these past few months, so most of the screenshots in this post are quite old.

Several "years" have also already passed in my game and so the Sims I included in my last update are all dead now. Yep, all of them. The Saint-Pierres are survived by their youngest son, Nathanael, who joined the military and whom I later discovered to be gay (I really had no idea he was until I saw that he was engaged to Sam Sekemoto).

Dylan and Moxie Radcliffe are also dead now (both died of old age). Their daughter Brooklyn, a forensic analyst, was living with Sophia, her life partner, until her accidental death (she drowned). She decided to adopt a little girl named Sophie-Marie and married a much younger guy. Brooklyn died soon after because of depression because she found out that her husband was only after her money and had decided to divorce her. The Radcliffes's youngest daughter, Bronx, decided to skip the military and is now a corporate drone. She married one of Sunset Valley's football legends, Chaz McManus.

Franck and Marley Harris are also dead now but their twin daughters are still alive and well. Since the girls weren't aesthetically gifted like their parents, they decided to get some plastic surgery and I guess they're happier because of it. The older of the two, Rotem, is now a journalist and has a daughter named Chasity (I don't know where she got this name) with Arthur Wan, a string quartet member. Her sister, Oona, is now a police lieutenant and is currently dating Nicole Alto, the youngest daughter of the once-powerful Alto clan of Sunset Valley. Nicole has a child from a previous affair. She's also a porn star. Yes, my Sims can be porn stars. Hahaha!

Anyway, I have new families to introduce!

The Wainwrights

Brandon and Esmeralda Wainwright don't look it but they're actually very rich. They traded their affluent city lifestyle for a quieter life in the farm after Brandon bought a dilapidated barn and converted it into their home.

Brandon had joined the Air Force right after high school and rose through the ranks until he was finally offered a job as an astronaut. He made a lot of money because of that and retired early to become a farmer.

The Wainwright's home. You can see a portion of Brandon's red truck on the left and their small vegetable garden and apple orchard on the right.


Dining and living room.

Esmeralda, on the other hand, was skeptic about moving to the country because she has lived all her life by the ocean and cannot imagine herself being away from it. But since she loves Brandon very much, she agreed just the same. She also felt that the quiet farm would be a good place to raise their children.

: Fireplace.


Living room.


The baby room.


Brandon and Esmeralda's cramped bedroom.


The bathroom upstairs.

Brandon and Esmeralda have three children--Bailey, Madison, and Donnie. Bailey, the eldest, has already moved out of the house and is currently living with her fiancé, Tristan Verona (more of this couple later on). Madison is still a toddler, and Donnie is still a teeny-weeny baby.


Brandon and Madison playing with wooden blocks. Mastering these wooden blocks will give your child logic points when she gets older.

: Esmeralda and Donnie.

Bailey Wainwright and Tristan Verona

So . . . Bailey and Tristan have known each other since high school and were introduced by their common best friend, Liam Harris. At first, a lot of people thought Bailey and Liam would end up together (even Bailey herself), but things changed when Liam started dating this girl from another town.

Bailey and Tristan have been dating for years and they've been engaged since forever. What Bailey doesn't know is that Tristan actually has serious commitment issues which is why their engagement has dragged on for so long. Bailey thought that the next best thing would be to move in together and see where this new arrangement would take them. (Besides, Bailey's excitement about the wedding has sort of waned because Tristan's overbearing mother, Amber, has never showed real interest in having her as a daughter-in-law.) The couple found a spacious loft at a newly developed part of town, which was perfect for both of them.

: The loft. The tall building you see at the back used to be Tristan's office. The blue structure on the left is the Sunset Valley Gym and Health Club.

: Dining and living room. Tristan is on his laptop, writing a review.

: Bathroom.

: Bailey's easel and dresser.

: Sleeping area and Tristan's work station.

Anyway, Bailey used to work as a music talent scout but has since quit her job in favor of her own music career. Unfortunately, she hasn't had any break yet so she spends her time practicing her guitar skills, learning new songs, and playing for tips at the park or outside the theater.

: Bailey playing the guitar for Tristan.

On the other hand, Tristan works as a professional blogger for Sunset Valley's only broadcasting company while pursuing a career as an author. He's now in the middle of writing the first part of his new science fiction saga.

So far, living together has had its ups and downs (mostly downs, actually). Bailey loves having parties and playing for her friends even on weeknights--something that Tristan hates because it interferes with his writing and because he's generally averse to crowds. Tristan also never picks up after himself so Bailey is left to do all the cleaning, the cooking, and even the repairs of broken household items. I'm thinking it won't be long before these two break up for good.

That's all for today, folks! More Sim families next time after I finish building and decorating some houses (it's not easy, I swear).

tmi

2011-04-09T02:00:00.002+08:00

Maybe I just have far too much distrust of the world or too paranoid for my own good, but isn't tweeting and updating your Facebook with your exact locations kind of unsafe? Especially if your profile is not set to private? Heaven knows how many creeps and stalkers are lurking out there, just waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting prey, and you really don't want to give them an easy target. (Yeah, maybe I'm just paranoid. I blame Criminal Minds and CSI.)

Social networking sites thrive because of a person's need to connect, to share, and to some extent, to seek attention. We are, after all, social animals. I'm not exempt from this, either. I post pictures of my new haircut because I want to be assured that I don't look silly. I share albums from vacations with friends so we can laugh at ourselves together. I rant and gush occasionally on Facebook and Twitter because these days, it seems that those two are more effective ways to connect with faraway relatives and friends. [And of course, not to mention that I also blog (for the many reasons I've said over and over throughout the years).]

However, in my experience, the social networking environment itself makes it easy for regular users to forget or take for granted the (very important) matter of privacy and personal safety because of our need "to share." More than anything else, this bothers me because it's become very easy for a complete stranger to gain access on your personal information, which they can easily exploit and abuse to their advantage. Sometimes, it could be as simple as a hacker using your email account to send out viruses to your contacts or to something more serious such as identity theft and fraud.

I've always been serious about privacy, whether online or offline, which explains why I don't trust people easily. Online, I'm even more fussy. My Facebook profile can only be fully viewed by me, and it has an extensive list of custom private settings for just about every person on my friends list. I keep several email accounts to serve different needs, and ever since the infamous hacking of Gawker media last December, I've made sure to change my passwords on a regular basis.

Whether we like it or not, the Internet has taken a large part of our daily lives, and social networking sites are now a major factor in the way we communicate, interact, and exchange information amongst our family, friends, and sometimes, even amongst strangers from all over the world. Before, we hid behind usernames and Yahoo IDs, but now, if you do the same on Facebook, it defeats the purpose of creating an account entirely.

As such, our "online lives" are no longer something we can log out of or shut down because most of the time, it's no longer separate from our real ones. I mean, when we go out to have dinner with our friends, we take pictures sometimes for the sole purpose of posting it on Facebook. The line between our real and Internet identities has vanished.

Having this in mind, we can't afford to take online safety and vigilance for granted. I'm not just talking about posting your exact locations for the whole world to see but also about the kind and the amount of information that we share. Even if your accounts are set to private, you still can't be sure if your friends are the only ones looking. There's a reason the phrase "Internet predator" exists today. The same amount of caution and discretion we exercise in real life should also be applied online, if not more.

The Internet is a great invention, and it serves a multitude of great purposes. Among them, connecting with our friends, co-workers, and loved ones through social networks. But as with everything else in the world, using something without knowing how much it can really affect your life will probably do more harm than good. Sometimes, a dash of paranoia wouldn't hurt.

***

Most of the time, online safety doesn't require anything other than common sense. Some personal tips on how you can be safe online:

1. Change passwords regularly. Use combinations of letters, numbers, and special characters (if allowed).

2. Don't use the same email and password combination for all other online accounts to avoid a "hack one, hack all" situation.

3. If your Facebook friends list includes people whom you do not know very well or people whom you've never met in real life, make use of Facebook's custom privacy settings to limit their access on your profile. This will allow you to share pertinent information with your close friends and family without compromising your safety.

4. Always log out of your email, Twitter, or Facebook accounts when using a shared computer. I know this is pretty simple and basic, but I've had several people borrow my laptop to check their Facebook or email and return it without logging out. They're lucky I'm nice (I am!) or they could end up like this guy:

: Click to enlarge and let hilarity ensue. :D

5. In connection with Tip #4, avoid saving your password if you're using a shared computer. That's just like handing out the keys to your car to whoever wants to use it, regardless if you know them or not.

counting calories

2011-03-23T21:30:00.005+08:00

Everyone is on a diet these days. If you're reading this and you're saying, "Well, I'm not," then I give you my most heartfelt congratulations. But if you're one of those superhuman sub-specie who never manages to gain a pound even after eating the wicked witch's entire ginger bread house, I hate you. [I'm kidding, of course. (Actually, no, I'm not. Genetics is unfair.)]

As we get older, getting in shape seems to require more and more effort, which is difficult because at this point in our lives, there are also a growing list of things and responsibilities that take up most of our time as well as contribute to an unhealthy lifestyle (like stress-related binge-eating). I've always been on the heavy side ever since I was a baby (I was 9.5 lbs when I was born). I seem to have gotten all the genes a woman would never ever dream to get. Even at my thinnest, I was still what everybody else would consider fat.

This fact hasn't really bothered me as much as it should probably have. I have a realistic view of my body, and I am, fortunately, comfortable in my own skin. I have long accepted the fact that I could never drop to a size 2 or 4 because my body just isn't built that way. This is no excuse to be unhealthy, but I admit that this is also an easy excuse to be lazy and unmindful of what I actually eat. Hence, the weight gain. Every time I would feel something bad going on within my body, I'd go on a diet. Sometimes, it's successful. Most times, it's not. The problem with dieting alone is that you almost always gain back the weight you lose (or more). You're also prone to binge-eating because you feel so deprived that when you snap, you just let everything go to hell and eat everything you could get your hands (and mouth) on.

Of course, things would have had better results if I actually exercised regularly, and I would be the first to admit that I don't have the commitment and the discipline to go to the gym religiously. At this point, the most I can commit to is jogging, and even that doesn't happen on a regular basis.

A couple of months ago, right after the holidays, I was mortified to find out that I gained a lot more weight than I expected. I decided to go jogging, and that only pointed out even more how unhealthy I was. When I still jogged on a semi-regular basis early last year, I could do two full runs around the sports center's oval before I have to slow down and do six to eight rounds walking. When I went back on the track last January, I thought I would die right then and there after barely making three-quarters of one run. Alas, an epiphany.

I decided to go on a diet for the nth time, while jogging whenever I could, but I couldn't see any real results after a month. Progress was very slow and, again, I wasn't immune from the familiar feelings of depravity so I might have cheated more times than was permitted. I was feeling frustrated, and I wanted to know what else I could do aside from improving my exercise routine. I got the idea to count the number of calories I consume daily out of curiosity. Because I wasn't losing any weight despite the calories I assumed I was burning and skipping on, I wanted to know how much I was actually consuming to begin with. I started searching the Internet for calories contained in my meals and checked food labels of everything that was on the cupboard and the fridge.

I found a web site that calculated the amount of calories a person with my weight, height, age, and routine can consume in a day in order to stave off the weight gain and lose the pounds. According to the web site (and as what common sense would tell you), in order to lose weight, you should consume less calories than you burn. Since I don't have a very active lifestyle, I only burn about 2,ooo calories in a day, and thus, I was only allowed to consume 1,300-1,500 calories. The site also has a nifty tool that calculates your intake of other important vitamins and minerals. It lets you know if you're low on fiber or ingesting too much food with saturated fat or sugar.

I was shocked when I got my calorie results because with that measly amount, I was sure I was going to go hungry. To give you some perspective: 1 cup of regular white rice is 200 calories; 1 packet of San Mig 3-in-1 instant coffee (strong version; makes 1 cup) is 70 calories; 1 piece of Jollibee Chicken Joy (thigh part) is 380 calories; 1 cup of pork sinigang is 290 calories; and 1 piece of BreadTalk's pork floss is 389 calories. At 1,300 calories, I'm only left with about 400 calories per meal if I eat three times a day. I know, shocker.

However, I found that it's all in your conditioning. I already know that I have a food intake limit, so I try not to aggravate the situation by depriving myself of my "happy" food (I have a sweet tooth). The trick is in the portions. If I used to eat one pack of snack size Chips Ahoy (4 cookies, about 200 calories) in one sitting, I now only eat 1 piece (50 calories) once or twice a week. I try to stay away from cakes and pastries as much as I can (oh, the torture!), but if I really can't help it, I only eat a bite or two to satisfy the craving, and just make sure to cut back on my next meal. As for coffee, it's indispensable in my day-to-day life, but with 70 calories for each cup, I thought I was going to have to cut back. Good thing that SanMig coffee comes in sugar-free versions, which are only 40 calories per packet/cup. Basically, I allow myself to eat almost anything I want except they've been really, really downsized.

I've also decided to list down everything I eat in a small notebook with their corresponding calories and portions and sum it up at the end of the day. This helps me track if I've been successful in sticking to the recommended diet plan and also serves as a calorie chart/database for all the usual food I eat. That way, I don't need to search the Internet every time I need to check and log some food.

Examples of entries on my food log. Last Friday was an obvious fail no thanks to that cake. Hahaha! It's been in the fridge for 2 days. I tried hard to ignore it, but I finally caved in.

To be honest, I never thought I would ever go down this road. I used to think that counting calories is a little too prissy for my taste and prevents me from enjoying what I eat. (I still think it's a little prissy, but heck, I'm trying to lose weight here, so whatev.) I also thought the same about checking food labels, but I changed my mind after I had to edit a healthy living book for one of my freelance projects. I picked up the habit of checking ingredients on food labels last year, but I never thought about the calories until three weeks ago. Now, it's become a regular thing for me to list down what I eat after every meal, and it gives me a certain satisfaction because I have never been able to commit to something as much as I have now, as far as my health and weight are concerned.

Like I mentioned above, it was curiosity that started me down this path, but what's making me stick to it is something that all of us already know--health is priceless (Now, if only I could completely quit smoking). So if you'd like to start your own calorie counting, I recommend going to Calorie Counter, which is the web site I mentioned above. You can sign up (with the option of using your Facebook account as your ID, but they won't post anything on your actual Facebook), and it will serve as your online food log/journal as they have an extensive calorie database. You can also log your weight progress from week to week as well as your activities/exercise routines (they have a separate database for calories you burn while walking, running, climbing up the stairs, etc.). The only downside is that since they're made for Americans, they don't have details for our local cuisine. Other than that, the site is pretty cool, and they have lots of stories from other users if you're looking for some inspiration.

You can also go to this site for a more comprehensive food and calorie list--just use the search function and voila. They have calorie data for common Filipino dishes like sinigang, chicken adobo, bistek, even pinakbet. For more accurate calorie data, make sure to check food labels whenever you can. Be aware that sometimes, food products that are packaged for single consumption have suggested serving sizes that are smaller than the actual package contents (For example, a snack size Chips Ahoy has 4 cookies per pack, but the suggested serving size is only 2 cookies. This means you have to double whatever calorie amount you find on the label if you're going to eat all 4 of them. And by now, you've already probably figured out that I love Chips Ahoy. Haha!). Also, if you're like me who can never seem to figure out how to estimate ounces or grams, you can go to this site to convert them to tablespoons or cups. Neat, eh?

Lastly, three weeks after I've started to follow this new diet plan, I'm happy to note that I've already dropped 7lbs (I actually am very surprised), which is actually a healthy weight-loss rate. I'm also starting to exercise on a semi-regular basis, and I'm hoping that by next month, after I finalize my current work schedule, that routine will improve. Here's to a healthier year for all of us!

shoe fetish

2011-03-22T12:56:00.005+08:00

As a big girl with big feet, finding a pretty, sturdy, and comfortable pair of shoes from local retailers is sometimes harder than finding the mythical Mr. Right. At a size 10.5, not only are my feet big, but they also sit on a half size, which makes the situation doubly difficult.

Whenever I get the chance, I buy shoes online or ask relatives in the States to buy them for me. Still, it's very frustrating when I see a gorgeous pair of shoes on magazines, on TV, or at the mall and know that I could never wear it because--surprise!--it doesn't come in my size. For a shoe-lover, this is a nightmare.

So here comes Payless to the rescue! For those who don't know, Payless is an American shoe retailer famous for their affordable and stylish shoes. Most importantly, they have shoes up to size 12 (size 13 in the States) and sometimes even came in two kinds of fit: regular and wide. Last year, they finally opened a few branches here in the Philippines!

I was really excited about the thought that I'd finally have a way to fill the shoe void in my life. But when I first went to a couple of their branches (one in Megamall and one in Ali Mall), my heart sank. I was utterly disappointed to find that they only had very few stocks for plus sizes. None of the shoes I was lusting after on their web site were to be seen on the stores. Talk about crushed hopes.

I never bothered with them again for several months, knowing that there wasn't anything particularly nice about the shoes I saw. Yesterday, however, I was in Megamall to meet a friend and run some errands. I decided to drop by Payless because I was thinking of ordering online from them, and I wanted to try on some of the shoes on display as a size reference. It's been some time since I've been there so I went there with no real expectations. And lo and behold, it looks like Payless has finally realized that not all Filipinas wear a size 6!

So many shoes! I was impressed with how up-to-date the stocks are, even the ones for plus sizes. Most of the shoes I saw on the web site were available too! I was basically just pulling out one pair after the other in the racks and ended up buying four pairs in less than 30 minutes! In the end, I couldn't be any happier with my purchases. Check out the haul:

Audrey Knot ballet flats in black satin. It's comfy but not as soft as the jersey version. The material makes the shoes a bit formal-ish so I think it's gonna work great for smart/business casual looks.

The knot detail gives the shoes something extra, so they don't end up being another boring pair of black flats. Also, I got all the shoes half a size smaller (except for the wedge sandals) but they're still very comfy.

I love this style so much, I bought it in this pretty rose color. This one is made of cotton-y fabric, and it's really soft and comfortable.

See? Isn't it so purdee? It's perfect for the summer!

Pointy flats in black patent.

The metallic and animal print insole looks fab, dontchathink?

Montego Bay embellished low-wedge sandal.

So shiny!

I also saw the pumps and strappy heels that I wanted from the web site, but the sizes available in the store were either too big or too small. I even had them call other branches to no avail. I had no choice but to proceed ordering online. I will post the photos once they arrive!

Anawangin

2011-03-14T22:11:00.001+08:00

A quick trip to Anawangin Cove, Zambales, last February 26. Photos from my phone only. Yeah, I still don't have a camera.

Day 4: city exploration

2010-09-25T19:26:00.001+08:00

I woke up at 10am and spent a couple of hours working on some scripts I needed to submit by Monday. For lunch, I just ordered in from the hotel. I didn't feel like going outside because it was unbelievably hot that day.

Around 3pm, the heat let up a little so I decided to get out of the room at last and explore the city.

Lunch at Harold's Mansion. Beef tapa for 70 pesos. Not bad.

Dumaguete has lots of Spanish-inspired buildings along its streets.

Sidewalk food stalls crop up at dusk.

Sunset at Dumaguete's famous boardwalk.

One of the street lamps that line the boardwalk.

The seven sisters from the Sisters of St. Paul of Chartres Congregation, who came to Dumaguete from Vietnam and later founded the city's St. Paul University.

More food stalls.

Dinner at the famous Jo's Inato.

At Cafe Mamia, where I died and went to pastry heaven.

Cafe Mamia interiors. I actually sat on one of their outdoor tables (too cold inside the cafe), and the table next time was occupied by the province's governor and his bodyguard.

Day 3: back to Dumaguete

2010-09-24T18:56:00.000+08:00

On day 3, I checked out of Thalatta and went back to Dumaguete City. I booked all the hotels I planned to stay at in advance so I just went straight to Harold's Mansion. I'll post hotel photos and reviews in a separate entry.

In the meantime, here are photos from day 3.

Lunch at Sans Rival. Super yummy (and cheap!) Lasagna and German potato salad.

Sans Rival, the home of Dumaguete's heavenly silvanas.

Blue and white interiors.

Sans Rival ceiling lamp.

Dessert was mango cloud. Yum!

It was really hot on the afternoon I went to Siliman so I could only take a couple of crappy pictures. This is one of said crappy pictures. (The more decent one.)

Thai chicken curry at Casablanca for dinner. Thumbs up!

I actually didn't get to go inside Silliman's Anthropology Museum as there was some school thing going on (FAIL!), and unfortunately for me, I wasn't able to go back anymore. I did, however, get a chance to walk around the campus and get a feel of the student life there. The school is lovely, though not as beautiful as my beloved UST. Hehehe.

Day 2: resort photos

2010-09-23T23:51:00.001+08:00

The resort's cabanas are named after Philippine island provinces. I got the one on the left, Samar. On the right is Leyte, with the hot Brit couple.

Room patio. I would have loved hanging around here if it weren't for the fact that it could get very hot. The cabana next to mine is blocking the breeze coming from the ocean, so yeah.

Gorgeous view of the pool. It's actually smaller than what the photo might suggest, but it's really nice. And there's lots of lounge chairs for the guests.

Looks like Blue Lagoon. Lol.

Each cabana has one or two lounge chairs parked outside for those who want a tan. Up ahead is a cabana for you to lay around in if you're not a big fan of the sun. I hung out on the one facing the sea.

The resort's one and only hammock.

Fountain / jacuzzi. I've never actually seen anyone try it. I wonder why. It looks pretty in person.

Spa / massage area. They have a decent selection of massages, including the suction cups thingie. I got an hour-long Thai massage--probably the best one I've had, but it's expensive though.

The bar area.

The restaurant opens out into the ocean, with a perfect view of Apo Island. On my first night, the moon was full and the silvery reflection on the water was spectacular. First time I regretted not having a decent camera.

Thalatta doesn't have a 'beach'. If you wanna swim, you can go down using the stone staircase. The water is very clear, though it's rocky in some parts, and I even saw a few guests snorkeling in there.

Lunch was tomato and garlic pasta. My favorite meal during my stay.

Dessert was mango flan. Average. Didn't like the flan's texture.

For dinner, it was their version of chicken adobo. Good but a little too sour for my taste.

Second-hand books for sale at the souvenir shop. The resort is owned by a friendly French guy so you'll find lots of French titles.

It gets too hot in the pool area around lunch time, so I usually just leave my stuff in this rock under the kalachuchi. Lol.

I spent the whole day in the resort for my birthday. At this time of the year, there weren't a lot of guests around so it was pretty quiet and relaxing. I can honestly say that the resort alone makes the whole trip worth it. Full resort review soon.

*All photos taken by my cameraphone, LG KP320. Not bad for a cheap phone, right?

Day 1: room photos

2010-09-22T21:22:00.000+08:00

Room photos at Thalatta Resort. It's a forty-minute ride from the airport and not visible from the main highway. I gotta say, though, that it's well worth it. Photos of the resort tomorrow, when there's better lighting. My poor LG phone struggles with low lights.

Dinner. Chicken Vallée d'Augée and red wine. The caramelized apples are good, but the chicken was a bit overdone.

Vanity.

Cool bedside wall lamp.

Beds pushed together. The room can accommodate up to four people.

Day bed with lots of cushions.

Vanity, minibar, and the door that leads to the bathroom.

The bathroom and shower area are really spacious, and the floor tile is pretty. But the best part is the pocket garden greeting you as soon as you open the door. I'll take a picture in the morning, when it's brighter.

Birthday treat

2010-09-20T22:41:00.000+08:00

For my birthday, I will be sitting on one of these lounge chairs overlooking the sea, sipping a margarita (or mojito), and listening to Katerine's La Mémoire Courte while taking in the beautiful sunset. Three more days.

Meet my families

2010-07-30T15:38:00.002+08:00

When I'm not racking my brain writing press releases and scripts for animes and telenovelas, or reading books about dragons and elves (yes, I said dragons and elves), or watching the awesomeness that is NCIS and Leroy Jethro Gibbs, or, well, you get the picture . . . this is what's been keeping me busy.

It's time for you to meet my Sims, or the hapless little beings forced to live a life filled with intrigues, betrayal, infidelity, murderous intent, and constant supervision by a ruthless overlord a.k.a. me.

The Radcliffes

Dylan is a chef and Moxie is a writer. Right now, they have two daughters--Brooklyn, a forensic analyst, and Bronx who's still in high school but shows a keen interest for a career in the military. The couple used to live in a loft downtown, but they have since moved to a big-ass farm house (which also happens to be the first house I made and designed) in the country where they raised their two daughters.

Dylan and Moxie Radcliffe. This was their original living room, but I have since redesigned it to make it look more formal.

It's a long drive to the restaurant where Dylan works, but Moxie likes it because she can write peacefully in the attic, plus they have a big backyard for the girls to play in.

This is the same space in the picture above. I converted their old living room/family room into a formal sitting room for when they have their intelligent conversations with their friends. Haha!

And oh, one of the reasons the family moved to the country was because they wanted a fresh start. See, Dylan cheated on Moxie with the nanny (hahaha!), back when he was still in a rock band (he was briefly in that "I wanna be a rockstar phase." Guys. Tsk.), and so Moxie kicked him out. Fortunately for him, Moxie was a sucker, and she forgave him.

When the above picture of the couple was taken, Brooklyn was still in elementary. She moved out of the house recently and currently lives in a Mexican-themed beachfront house with Sophia, her lover (hahaha!), who works at the neighborhood spa. Bronx has recently moved in with them to be closer to her school and also because Dylan and Moxie are now retired and in their sixties (in real-world age). Brooklyn wanted her parents to spend their retirement in peace and without having to deal with the angst and raging hormones of a teenage daughter. I haven't taken their most recent pictures (and maybe I should before they die), so I guess there will have to be another post for these guys.

This is the Mexican-themed house where Brooklyn, Sophia, and Bronx currently lives. (I didn't make it, though. This was downloaded from aroundthesims3.com.) It's right in front of the beach and beside it is a bar and grill. They have a little pool out back, and the car parked in the driveway is Brooklyn's service vehicle, which is actually a gift from her boss when she got promoted. Hindi bawal ang wang-wang for civilians sa kanila.

This is what Brooklyn and Sophia's room looks like. Just so you have an idea about the house's interior.

And this is kind of like a patio (except it's covered) which leads to the pool/backyard. It's walled but it has multiple open arched doorways on all sides. Actually, out of all the houses in my town, this one is what I want the most in real life.

The Saint-Pierres

At the start of their story, Alphonse, who owns the only grocery in town, had just lost his wife in a tragic accident (she drowned) and so their only daughter Melanie, who works as a book club moderator for one of the town's bookstores (and who's also a bit old-fashioned, prudish even), decided to stay in their house instead of moving out so that she can take care of her aging father.

Alphonse is a great chess player. He's defeated just about every old timer in town. Now that he's retired, he spends his time between fishing and playing chess. Sometimes he catches fish in the small pond behind him, he either uses as fertilizer for Martha's garden or as bait.

A few years later, Alphonse met a recently divorced woman who's a newcomer to the neighborhood. They hit it off and the two remarried. Not long after, Melanie married an up and coming politician whom she met at the bookstore and moved in with him. Being a country girl that she is, she was a little uneasy living in his husband's mansion, right in the middle of the most affluent subdivision in town. Plus, she's also kind of worried that her husband's son from a previous marriage, Carter, wouldn't like her (or like her too much, hehehe).

Martha used to work in the spa, but since marrying Alphonse, she decided to quit her job. She has a green thumb so she decided to grow vegetables in the backyard which she then sells in their grocery.

Anyway, Alphonse and Martha have a son now. Martha isn't too old to have a baby (she's maybe mid-forties), so they decided to take the risk and have a child of their own.

This is the Saint-Pierre country cottage. They live just a few meters away from the Radcliffe's farm house, but the two families are not very close. I don't know why exactly.

This is the backyard with Martha's veggies and flowers.

In my next post, I'll post about Melanie and her husband's interesting love story, plus some updates about Alphonse, Martha, and their son (hint: someone died).

The Harisses

Franck Harris was a career criminal and con man when she met Marley. Interestingly, Franck is also the brother of the "up and coming politician" I mentioned before, a.k.a. Melanie's husband.

Franck and Marley entertaining friends at home to sort of celebrate Franck's moving in with her.

Anyway, they met, fell in love, and Franck moves in with Marley. At this point, she still doesn't know what Franck really does for a living, although she had growing suspicions. Franck also had some commitment issues at that time so he was fairly content with just living together without really getting married.

Back in their old home, taken during Marley's pregnancy. She's originally a blonde but died her hair brown. Later on, she'll go blonde again.

Franck and Marley on a weekend trip to Stoney Falls Lodge.

But then, Marley got pregnant and that kinda changed things for them yada yada yada. In short, Franck proposed, quit his life of crime, and started working in business. They were surprised to find out they were having twin girls, and as soon as the babies were born, it soon became apparent that their loft-style house was too small to raise their children in. They moved into a classic Americana house in a middle-class suburb where they were welcomed by neighbors who had no idea that Franck was the infamous cat burglar who once terrorized the town.

This is the kitchen and dining area of their Americana house.

Family picnic in Central Park. Around this time, Marley decided to pursue a career in art so she became a painter, while Franck had just been promoted to division manager.

Presently, their twin daughters, Rotem and Oona, are in high school, and unfortunately, as handsome and beautiful Franck and Marley are, their daughters suffer the same fate as Bruce Willis and Demi Moore's daughters. (Genetics in The Sims 3 is tricky. Just like in real life.)

Next time, I'll show the other families I've been busy controlling, hehe. These are the only ones for now because I haven't gotten around to taking newer screenshots.

***

So . . . obviously, I'm a big fan of the game. It's the only game I've consistently played since the first version came out--although I skipped The Sims 2 entirely and went straight for The Sims 3.

I'm guessing I don't need to explain why this game is very addictive, even if it can get very stressful at times (try running an entire town) but if I have to, I'd say if you have control issues in your life (we all do, don't kid yourself), this is the perfect game for you to let your imagination and creativity (and frustrations) go wild because no one is ever gonna complain. When you need to take a break from your life and live in an entirely different world where everything goes your way, this is your best bet.

It can get boring after some time, though, especially if you don't have any of the expansion packs. (Like me. My laptop can't handle it anymore. It's not supposed to work on my laptop as it is, pinipilit ko lang.) So the best way to enjoy the game is to pack a lot of imagination when you play. In my case, I like to invent back stories for my Sims because it keeps my game more exciting, and it gives me ideas on what to do next when the character/family starts to get a little stagnant.

Indulging the bookwhore within.

2009-03-24T20:38:00.000+08:00

Spending a whole afternoon in a bookstore has always been my one constant source of excitement and happiness. When I was still in college, I’d drop by at the four-storey National Bookstore in Cubao and end up one of the last customers out by closing time. It doesn’t matter that I only have one book to show for my entire browsing time (sometimes I wouldn't even buy anything at all because of budget constraints, which means that I spend a week hoping and praying that the books I "hid" stay hidden until I have the money to buy them).

Recently, my sister has brought upon my attention the newly opened (Edit: Well, as I later found out, they opened years ago. Hahaha! I just didn't know about them because their old location was way at the back of the mall so no one really knew they existed) Booksale outlet in the strip mall near our house. As if that wasn’t reason enough, she casually dangled the possibility of finding the Stephen King book I’ve been on the lookout for all these years.

“Merong manipis na Stephen King akong nakita, e. Parang short stories yata.”
“Night Shift?”
“Yata.”

So, of course I had to go.

But as it turned out, it wasn’t Night Shift after all. It was a 6-part edition of The Green Mile for kids or something. Still, I went to browse the shelves and shelves of books that lined the store’s four walls. I wasn’t really expecting to find anything that would blow me away but boy was I so wrong. It’s so easy to dismiss the place as having nothing but the usual Fabio-esque romance novels or the spawns of Judith McNaught and Danielle Steele.

But what do you know, I went home with a total of 10 books - each an AMAZING find.

1. Unlubricated by Arthur Nersesian - I nearly flipped when I found this book on one of the shelves. I had to pick my jaw from the floor and I think a little scream might have been let out. Having read his previous work Dogrun has got me all sorts of excited to bury my head into this one.

2-3. Desperation and The Dark Half by Stephen King - OK, these two need no further explanation. What made these finds really great is that both books are still in mint condition and at less than a hundred each.

4. The Dark Tower I: The Gunslinger by Stephen King - I already have this book in paperback and I’ve already finished reading it (I’m on Part IV of the series) but I just couldn’t let this copy slip. It’s an illustrated edition and at only P70.00.

5. Take the Cannoli: Tales from the New World by Sarah Vowell - This is a collection of essays and part memoir of the author, who I know nothing about. But flipping through the pages, I find her quite hilarious and witty. Plus, Nick Hornby was singing her praises on the back cover. And if Hornby loves her, I guess I would, too.

6. Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer - I bought this book because I remembered it from Stephen King’s book list printed on his memoir/writing manual, On Writing. It’s the true account of a sports journalist who joined a climbing team bound for the summit of Mt. Everest which resulted in the greatest tragedy on the mountain.

7. The Best American Short Stories 2000 edited by E.L. Doctorow - A hard-bound edition with a good-looking set of works from authors such as Ha Jin, ZZ Packer, and Annie Proulx. I was excited to find this book because I couldn't possibly afford Harper's or The New Yorker, where most of the stuff here were originally published. Plus, I was also looking to be inspired. Unfortunately, it seems that not everything in the collection is as good as the rest, or so Amazon reviewers say. Well, here's hoping for the best.

8. Michael Moore Is A Stupid White Man by David T. Hardy and Jason Clarke - Just for kicks, I bought this book. I’ve read two of Moore’s books, Stupid White Men and Dude, Where’s My Country? and I've also seen Fahrenheit 9/11; I thought it would be fun to read about what his “enemies” are saying about him. Weirdly, my sister is some kind of a Moore fan and it’s actually kind of freaky. A liiiiittle bit alarming than her fascination for Fran "The Nanny" Drescher.

9.The O’Reilly Factor by Bill O’Reilly - Well, I kinda like Bill. Hehe! And regardless of what other people say, I bet somewhere in the book are a few good laughs that would let me get my money’s worth. Besides, at 20 bucks I don’t think I have much to lose. Haha!

10. After the Plague by T.C. Boyle - I read a couple of stories from this collection several years ago, when a friend lent me a copy. I can't quite remember who the friend was but I do vividly remember how taken I was with Boyle's dark humor and realistic characters. So really, how could I possibly not buy this?

I already made friends with the Ate in charge of the store and earlier today, she texted to let me know that new books have arrived - and the titles I asked her for are now waiting for me.

Now if only I can get more shelf space.

health and wellness

2008-11-03T20:17:00.000+08:00

My favorite issue so far because it was so much fun doing the yoga for kids story (below). The little girls were so cute and charming. Plus I got to roam a little bit inside the fabulous Mediterranean-inspired Lopez mansion in Ayala Alabang, where the yoga studio's Alabang branch is located (the president of the yoga school is the late Geny Lopez, Jr.'s daughter).

And, I also got to interview Danding Cojuangco's apo, who is also a member of the Philippine's equestrian team like her cousin Mikee. She's just about my age and yet she's already made history as the youngest rider to ever win a World Cup Qualifier. I did this interview last July pa, together with the young society/faces to watch fashion and profile spread I did for the magazine. Kasi she was also one of those featured in that spread so sinabay na din 'yung interview for this issue because she'll be flying back to Australia. The funny part is I sat down in front of her to do the interview without the faintest idea about who she is or what she does! But I swear it wasn't my fault - I didn't know I'd need to do a separate interview on her and it's not like I have a handbook on Manila's up-and-coming socialites. So there I was thinking it was just going to be another interview with your typical cookie-cutter socialite. So just imagine my surprise and the puzzled look I had when she started talking about riding, her lolo, and her cousins! And even then I still had no idea kung sino ba 'yung lolong sinasabi niya! Hahaha.

I only found out it's Danding when I got home and rushed to do a THOROUGH research on her name - which took me hours, by the way. I'm so amazed at how I manage to wiggle myself out of sticky situations! Haha!

My third article is "Jars of Youth", which, as the name suggests, is a feature on high-end anti-aging creams. And by high-end I mean a small jar would probably cost twice your monthly salary. I love the spread that came with the article kahit nagkamali sila ng edit dun sa isang paragraph for Estee Lauder.

Since I started working again, I had to decline majority of the assignments (both from MS and the travel mag) given to me because most of the interviews and travel coverages fell on weekdays. It was still difficult to squeeze them in on weekends because my schedule has been so erratic recently. Last week, I thought I'd be able to have more time this month and next so I was hoping I could accept at least one or two assignments for the Dec-Jan issue. But it turns out I won't. There's a new project assigned to me and it looks like I'll only have enough time to finish it before the next one starts. Hay. I hope this won't be my last issue with them. I need more tiiiiimmee!

The Toxic One.

2008-07-04T22:58:00.000+08:00

Time for another plug! Hehe. :-)

The Arts, Culture, and Charity issue a.k.a. Toxicity (at least for me) is in stores. Three of my four articles are posted here. Thanks G for the scans! (The last two are layout drafts Butchie sent last month.)

The Met Museum director (Living Art) happens to be friends with UST Journ's beloved Prof. Lito Zulueta. And I made the mistake of mentioning to the director that Sir Lito was my professor and thesis adviser. Hahaha nakakahiya! Check out Abbie's story! And Kit's cover, too! :-)

Wanted.

2008-06-30T21:45:00.000+08:00

This movie adaptation of the Mark Millar graphic novel of the same title has gotten some flak from purist fans for deviating from the original story. The Fox (played by and written specifically for Angelina Jolie), for example, was a black woman in the original book and was in fact drawn in the likeness of Halle Berry (as Wesley Gibson, played by James McAvoy, was drawn after rapper Eminem).

However, the movie being a summer release in the States, it's quite understandable why the writers and producers did not proceed with the original storyline. Glorifying super villains whose moral compass permanently jerks towards the opposite direction in an ultraviolent and psychologically dark film doesn't sit quite well with the public, I heard.

Instead, we get some sort of hybrid between "the enlightened chosen one" and "coming-of-age" story arcs in Fight Club-esque fashion as we watch disaffected Wesley Gibson's boring, soul-sucking, clock-punching life transform at the hands and guidance of The Fraternity, a centuries-old secret society of assassins which his absentee father was a part of up until being murdered by a rogue fraternity brother.

As he takes on the task of avenging his father's death, he soon discovers unparalleled strength and power within him - not to mention lightning-fast reflexes and bullet-curving precision.

For his English-language directorial debut, Kazakh-born Timur Bekmambetov (who also directed the screen adaptation of Russian fantasy novels Night Watch and Day Watch, both of which I have read and seen) wields a stunning, action-packed, and fast-paced (albeit unoriginal at times) visual assault which takes the audience for a thrill-ride similar to that of the world's highest and fastest roller coaster.

Fanboy or not, the movie is nothing short of orgasmic in terms of blowing people and stuff up. The violence is graphic, the stunts are ridiculous, and Angelina Jolie is beyond awesome with her smile-sneers, little dialogue, and naked ass.

Among other things, the movie has officially elevated Ms. Jolie to non-mortal status. She's a supreme being all on her own. There is no other actor alive in the world today who can command screen presence like she does (This is not up for debate, FYI.) It helps, of course, that she has the beautiful-and-badass-chick-you-don't-wanna-mess-with character down pat, making it look all too easy and fun.

Bekmambetov also deserves credit for truly knowing and acknowledging the fact that the movie is running purely on adrenaline and is just about as silly as it could get. Nonetheless, James McAvoy delivers a pretty solid and smart acting as the cubicle drone Wesley, proving that he too can be effective in the action/adventure genre after being typically cast in more dramatic films such as The Last King of Scotland and Atonement.

As a result, Wanted is exactly what a summer movie ought to be. Translation: you will enjoy getting beat down by the film's unforgiving, hyperactive, and oftentimes silly and outrageous action sequences (in the tradition of Shoot 'Em Up and Crank), which seem bent on one-upping basic movie logic. Granted, of course, that you don't forget to check your brain at the door.

The first of (hopefully) many.

2008-05-01T13:37:00.000+08:00

Working for an agency before, I've had my works printed in national dailies and magazines but with zero credit to me. And so now, for my first official magazine contribution ever, just please indulge me for taking a little pride. Haha. Many thanks again to Kit (who also wrote the cover piece on the Lopez matriarchs).

Mom kept bugging me about when it'd be out and when it finally did, she couldn't wait for the complimentary copy to arrive and ~~asked~~ commanded me to buy her a copy. (Click to enlarge photos.)

Next up is the Arts, Culture, and Charity issue for June-July where my four assignments had me up and writing for 48 hours straight. Ah yes, I still put everything off until the last minute.

Vacancy

2007-11-24T18:25:00.000+08:00

My insomnia has been revisiting me for the past couple of weeks, which means I've been hitting my bed at around 4:00am to 5:00am every night (day). On the first week, the Internet has been a loyal companion in the wee hours of the morning until my brain was about a Hollywood gossip away from total shutdown because of all the showbiz chismis crap I've been feeding it.

Naturally, I had to find other ways to entertain myself during the unholy hours. Enter my mom's newly acquired DVDs. The last few days, I've been going at a rate of 3 movies/night.

Last night, I popped in Vacancy into the DVD player not really caring if it's bad or really bad since it was roughly 80 minutes of my life that I have the luxury of wasting. It was yet another prime example of the principle that if you expect the worst, chances are, you'd get pleasantly surprised.

On to the movie.

Luke Wilson and Kate Beckinsale play David and Amy Fox, a bickering and soon-to-be divorced couple grieving the tragic and accidental of their son. On a road trip to Amy's parents' house, David decides to get off the interstate thinking of a shortcut which, of course, gets them lost. Their car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and the couple decides to spend the night in a cheap run-down motel nearby while waiting for the car mechanic to show up the next morning.

Unfortunately for them, it turns out that the creepy (in a geeky sort of way) hotel manager is running his own production company specializing in snuff films shot entirely in the very same room that our lovebirds are staying in. They soon discover that the stack of VHS tapes featuring violent "movies" are real murders and that they are most likely the next stars of Pinewood Motel's highly anticipated production.

The movie then takes you to a surprisingly thrilling cat-and-mouse chase between the manager and his masked cohorts and the Foxes.

Even without reading the summary printed at the back of DVD case, you already know what kind of movie this is and where it's going to take you. For one, there really is nothing new about the plot and twists of Vacancy. Personally, I think not one similarly themed movie has been able to come close to Hitchcock's "Psycho", which is the ultimate prototype for motel-themed slasher pics.

I guess the difference between Vacancy and all other gorefests out there is that it is actually suspenseful and well-executed as opposed to its movie cousins that end up being 1) funny and laughable without meaning to be; 2) pathetic; and 3) an utter bore.

What I like about the film is that it's well-paced and it takes its time to set the right mood and grim. In other words, it delivers passable - if not, good - foreplay. And most of all, because it did not resort to so much gore. I was really happy about the latter because as much as I love being scared shitless in movies, I can't stand blood splattering and intestines scattered all over the screen. Instead, Vacancy takes the scare tactics back to the basics: loud banging on the door with no one outside (this has to be one of my favorite terrifying moments. It even made me scream), the feeling of being watched, dark and cramped crawlspaces, complete isolation, and even gross rats!

Another plus for the movie is the fact that David and Amy are likeable characters not because they're cute but because they're normal and they're smart. They're not like the dumb teenagers that are so common in these movies that you end up hating and wishing death by chainsaw. The only thing is I think the life-threatening-circumstances-bring-people-back-together kind of background to characters is getting old. But hey, if it still works, I guess I can't do nothing much about it.

The ending, however, is kind of flat. It was a good thrill-ride up until the few couple of minutes. Although, I have to give credit to director Nimrod Antal for making it impossible to know if the couple are ever going to come out of it alive and in one piece and to the cinematographer for creating the perfect something-is-terribly-wrong-with-this-motel-and-that-creepy-manager-but-i-have-no-choice-so-i'm-going -to-stay-anyway-oh-my-god!-that-guy's-throat-was-slit-in-the-same-bed-my-wife-is-lying-in atmosphere.

Come to think of it, that 80 minutes wasn't entirely wasted at all.

Bohol (05-08 July 2007)

2007-07-12T16:56:00.000+08:00

Our trip to Bohol was a spur of the moment kind of thing. One morning in late May, while Abbie, Sher, and I were spending precious hours chatting at YM instead of working in our respective offices, Sher stumbled upon Cebu Pacific's 1 peso seat sale announcement on their website. An hour (or less) of travel schedule and destination discussions later, Sher was already booking our flight online.

Because of the airline's promo, we only paid PhP 2,700+ (about USD 58) each for a round-trip ticket. It was just too bad that a few weeks later, Abbie had to back out. So last July 05, despite being one friend short and early indications of bad weather, we flew to Bohol with fingers crossed and high wishes to please keep the storm away.

From the airport, we were fetched by a hired van that brought us to Dumaluan Beach Resort, which was right next to the more posh Bohol Beach Club. The van was arranged by the resort for us since Sher already booked our stay there beforehand. Our original reservation was only for one night, just in case we didn't like the place and wanted to transfer. Once we got there, the resort turned out to be quite a place. The room that we had booked, however, was too small for us (only one queen-sized bed) so we upgraded to a bigger and newer beachfront room which, in our opinion, was more cozy and homey than the room we were offered at Bohol Beach Club.

Dumaluan Beach practically shares the same fine white sand and clear waters of Bohol Beach Club. Rooms at the new beachfront building are quite spacious (you could fit 4 to 5 persons in the room we were using), and has your own fridge, television, and a sink for washing used clothes. For entertainment, the resort also has an in-house female singer who performs standard songs, ballads, and bossa nova nightly.

Service, however, is another story. Although their employees are generally polite, you have to be the one to prompt them to clean your room every day (they don't have a phone in the room so you have to walk up to the front desk). Food is ok but pricey if you're sticking to a budget (like us). It's even more expensive than Bohol Beach Club.

There is no fence between the boundaries of the two resorts so it's very easy to go over the "other" side. And because we wanted to have that "exclusive resort" feel, that's exactly what we did. On the day we arrived, we decided to have a late afternoon swim at BBC, inquire if there are any available and affordable rooms, and have dinner in their restaurant. Although there was a BBC guard post on the resort entrance, we were able to do all three without much hassle.

But when we came back on Day 3, it was trickier. After our island hopping gig, we decided to eat lunch at BBC since food at Dumaluan isn't so great. While walking towards the resort, the BBC guard (I think he wasn't the same guard as the other day) approached us and told us that there's an entrance fee of PhP350, with only PhP250 consumable. So we decided to turn back wondering why they let us in before but not today (But of course, we didn't tell him that. Hehe).

Come dinner time, we decided to try again. This time using our wild imagination and creativity as to how we could get past him. And succeed we did! :)

The whole of Day 2 was devoted to our Bohol Land Tour. The usual destinations include:

Blood Compact Site
Baclayon Church
Tarsier
Man-made Forest
Hanging Bridge
Chocolate Hills
Loboc River Cruise (where you have lunch)
Giant python (We weren't able to go here because we were running late. That's a good thing because I hate snakes.)
Stopover for delicacies and pasalubongs

We had arranged for our tour guide to make an additional stop at the Bohol Bee Farm which is perhaps one of the most beautiful places I've ever been to. Aside from being a Bee Farm, the place is also an organic farm and a resort situated atop a cliff that overlooks the ocean and other white sand beaches. We had our merienda here of putomaya and tsokolate (which I last ate when I was still a kid), shrimp pasta, and corn, chocolate, and squash muffins. This was perhaps the best meal we've had during our four-day trip (plus BBC's sinigang).

For lunch, we made a stop at Loboc River and boarded one of the river cruises. Our tour guide arranged it for us so we didn't really get to pick which boat to take (there are many river cruises in Loboc, varying from simple to lavish. Some even have live performers on-board). We didn't like the food in the cruise we took and the boat itself was sparsely decorated.

As we went from one tourist spot to another, we passed by a couple of centuries-old churches like the one in Alburquerque (Yep, like the city in New Mexico, only with an "r" hehe) and in Loboc.

The whole time that we were doing the Land Tour, it drizzled on and off. But we were still lucky because we managed to have a glimpse of the sun before making our last stop at the Bee Farm.

On Day 3, we went dolphin-watching and island hopping. We got out of bed at 5:15am and left Dumaluan Beach at 6:00am after a quick breakfast in a hired pump boat. The dolphin hotspot is about 30-45 minutes away from shore.

Just like the previous day, we woke up to a gloomy and cloudy sky that day. I actually didn't think we'd see any dolphins because of the bad weather. But lucky for us, they still gave us a good show. :)

After spending about 30 minutes with the dolphins, we headed to Balicasag Island which was another 20-minute boatride from where the dolphins were. This is the main dive and snorkeling spot of Bohol. We had originally planned to go snorkeling but decided not to because of the cold wind and waves (It was already raining, by this time.). It wasn't much of a big deal for me since from the beginning, I've been telling Sher that I don't want to go snorkeling. Because I can't swim. Haha.

Our next stop was Puntod Island (or Virgin Island), which we had learned about from a friend. The island is actually a crescent-shaped sandbar in a 1.2 hectare stretch. It has fine white sand and is lined by soaring coconut trees. It's really very peaceful and panoramic, kind of reminds me of a postcard I saw of Fiji. Puntod Island has no facilities, save for a skeleton of a house which I figured is used by fishermen. The water is also crystal clear but not very ideal for swimming because of all the sea weeds (which were being gathered by a few fishermen when we visited). We weren't able to walk the whole stretch of the island so I'm not sure if the waters on other parts are also weedy (is that a word?). I read in a website that the island is privately owned but our boatman said it is owned by the government. But that doesn't matter because it's free for everyone to enjoy. (And here's hoping that even with tourists flocking, we could all help preserve the island.)

Funny because whenever we would get to the best parts of our activities (Bee Farm and Puntod Island), the sun would come out as if saying "I won't let the rain spoil this one, dears." We were still lucky because the weather wasn't gloomy enough to derail our (un)planned tours and island hopping. Or maybe it was just our sheer determination to make this trip as wonderful and as memorable as we possibly could.

When I was still a kid, I used to spend my summers alternately between Bohol (where my Dad is from) and Agusan del Norte (my mom's hometown). The last time I visited my grandparents in Bohol was when I was still in high school.

This trip really brought back a lot of memories from my childhood, especially when we went to Chocolate Hills in the town of Carmen. Our family lived there for a couple of months when I was 3 or 4 years old and I remember going to Chocolate Hills on weekends with my brother and my parents. There used to be a restaurant at the top of the biggest hill that served the best sundaes.

Looking back, I would say without any hesitation that the trip was perhaps my best so far. Although I wish we could've spent more time just lounging around at the beach. :)

***

During our short trip to Bohol, I was supposed to take a break from our itinerary and have my uncle fetch me at the resort so I can visit my grandparents. Unfortunately, they were in Cebu at that time for my Lola's regular check-up.

When I came home last Sunday, mom told me that she and Dad are planning to go to Bohol and visit our folks. Guess who's joining them? ;-)

***
Photos taken with my Jurassic digicam :)

Moi and Sherlyn.

Bohol is Chocolate Hills :)

Loboc River Cruise dock. Those are some of the nicer cruises.

Late afternoon at Dumaluan Beach.

Baclayon Church altar.

Bohol Beach Club.

Colorful window pane at Baclayon Church.

Alburquerque Church.

Loboc River.

Balicasag Island.

Dumaluan Beach (low tide).

Puntod Island.

Man-made Forest.

Abbie, bakit mo kami iniwan?

***

Photos grabbed from Sher.

I've got something on my shoulder. :)

Joining in on the blood compact. Kampai!

While waiting for our food at Bohol Bee Farm.

Burned after island hopping.

Although Bohol Bee Farm is located on a cliff, guests at the resort can still take a dip in the blue sea. The Bee Farm's cliff house (which is like a tambayan complete with lounge chairs and beach beds) has a stone staircase leading down to the shallow waters.

***

To give you an idea of the tours and transportation costs, here is a breakdown:

1. Airport transport - PhP 400 (USD9) by car, PhP 500-600 (USD11-13) by van.
This fare is strictly for transfers. If you want to make stopovers, you will pay an additional fee of PhP200(USD4)/hour.

2. Land Tour - PhP1,800-2,500 (USD39-55) for the whole group by car, depending on your haggling skills. We got ours for PhP1,800, although Sher's friend said you could still lower it down to PhP1500. For large groups who need vans, prices are a bit steeper.

3. Dolphin-watching and Island-hopping - PhP1,600-2,000 (USD35-44) for the whole group. Again, depending on your haggling skills.

4. Dumaluan Beach Resort - PhP3,500 (USD76) /night for a room with two single beds. Plus PhP400 for extra person. There's also a cheaper room (the one we had originally booked) for PhP2,600 (USD57) /night with one queen-size bed.

Haggle, haggle, haggle! :)

Oh, Bohol!

2007-07-04T12:26:00.000+08:00

Laurel.

2007-05-20T16:14:00.000+08:00

ESCADA (1).

2007-05-20T16:08:00.000+08:00

Kabuhayan Mutual Fund (1).

2007-05-20T15:51:00.000+08:00

Dorothy Perkins.

2007-05-20T15:44:00.000+08:00

Philippine Daily Inquirer, March 07, 2007

Warehouse.

2007-05-09T15:35:00.000+08:00

My Own Filmfest.

2007-04-04T23:50:00.000+08:00

In the last 48 hours, I have watched the following films:

1. Ghost Rider
- Kinda disappointed with this one.

2. Apocalypto
- I had second thoughts about watching this because of all the gore, but I'm glad I did. Good chase movie. But I did have to close my eyes one too many times.

3. Notes on a Scandal
- Again. Still brilliant.

4. Munich
- I liked Daniel Craig in this film more than in Casino Royale.

5. The Last King of Scotland
- McAvoy was amazing. Whitaker, faultless. He does deserve that Golden Globe, Oscar, and every other award he got for this film.

6. Letters from Iwo Jima
- Eastwood's war movie is not action. What it is is poignant. And enlightening.

7. The Pursuit of Happyness
- Best Will Smith film ever.

8. The Sentinel
- Three words: Not. Worth. It. Sayang, bida pa naman si Kiefer Sutherland.

9. 300!!!
- For its genre, this film is AWESOME. Almost as legendary as the LOTR trilogy. I love you, Stelios.

In the next 48 hours, I will watch the following films:

1. The Departed
2. The Contract
3. Flags of Our Fathers
4. The Queen
5. The Holiday

Last week, I reacquainted myself with 24's Jack Bauer and finished Season 1 with my dad. Yeah, I know that season was shown six years ago, but it got me hooked still. It is, however, unfortunate that I don't have my Prison Break DVD. Oh well.

xxx

I am looking for a copy of this movie:

Been asking some friends about it, but the people I've asked don't seem to have heard or know about it. Channing Tatum got great reviews for his performance in this film, but the main reason I want to get a hold of this movie is Shia LaBeouf (that kid who played Louis Stevens in Disney's Even Stevens). I'm glad Hollywood's finally taking notice of this young man and giving him the breaks he deserves (He was cast in I, Robot, Constantine, Bobby, and The Greatest Game Ever Played.). I've always thought he's the brightest among all the Disney kids.

Another one I'm keeping an eye on is this:

Interesting-enough plot + Channing Tatum = My kind of movie.

xxx

I've been inside the house for almost three weeks now. I most certainly am grateful that I don't have to go to work but not under this circumstance. The rashes are all gone except for The Subversive Five, located on my chin, lower back, abdomen, right toe (yes, toe), and right shoulder, respectively. If I'm lucky, I can already get out and see the world come weekend. And just so we're clear, I still don't want to go back to work.

Topshop.

2007-03-26T20:30:00.000+08:00

Notes On A Scandal

2007-03-23T22:00:00.000+08:00

Its humor, despite the brutality and tragedy of truth and lies, is one of the reasons why I wholeheartedly embrace the 2004 Mike Nichols film "Closer." (Incidentally, I took this online quiz before which determines the director who should best film your life. I got Nichols. I don't think that's good news, though.) And it's also one of the reasons why I love this year's Oscar-nominee "Notes On A Scandal."

Originally a novel by Zoe Heller, Notes on a Scandal was adapted for the screen by former stand-up comic Patrick Marber, who was also the man responsible for Closer's biting dialogue and Julia Robert's description of Jude Law's sweeter semen.

The story revolves around the chain-smoking teacher Barbara Covett (Judi Dench) who is on the verge of retirement. Cynical and bitter, the spinster Barbara goes about the routine of her daily life hating students and fellow teachers alike. But all that is about to change when a new art teacher joins the faculty--the wispy, beautiful, and ethereal Sheba Hart (Blanchett).

Although at first condescending and dubious of the new colleague, Barbara soon strike a friendship with Sheba despite the former's earlier convictions to despise the latter. Soon after, Barbara is invited to lunch with Sheba's family: her much older husband Richard (Bill Nighy), teenage daughter, and 12-year old son with Down syndrome.

Everything seems to be in order for the new friends--lunch or dinners at Sheba's house, leisurely snacks after class, and conversations on a bench overlooking the city. Everything seems to be in order despite the contrasting realities of their lives: Sheba and her carefree, almost bohemian ways and loving family. And Barbara, with her gloomy apartment and sickly cat.

But on the school's Christmas play--just as when Barbara is starting to develop a curious fondness and attachment to the lovely Ms. Hart--she discovers Sheba giving her 15-year-old student (played by Andrew Simpson aka the Lucky Bastard) a blowjob.

Feeling betrayed and vengeful at first, Barbara soon sees a twisted window of opportunity in this new "discovery." She confronts Sheba, but instead of ratting her out to the school authorities, Barbara turns herself into the young woman's confidante and "best friend." Barbara has just found the perfect way to lure Sheba into a "relationship". All is well once more, it seems. But Sheba is yet to face the real nightmare.

The affair with the student did not stop. And Barbara is really, really pissed now.

Narrated by Barbara in a rather caustic and twisted way, the film continues on to reveal layers upon layers of deception, bringing crazy and manipulation to new heights. What started as a simple narrative of a lonely old woman in need of a friend soon becomes a tale desperation and monstrosity.

Marber and director Richard Eyre's lesbian undertones on Barbara's character finally reaches its peak, starting with the gold stars on her diary entries to the revelation of a previous relationship with a fellow teacher, and finally to a full confrontation with Sheba.

Needless to say, more than the impressive script and editing, the film is an acting masterpiece. Dench, who had been previously directed by Eyre in "Iris", is as creepy and as unnerving as her character should be: a poorly-dressed, cat-loving, and graying woman who, like a spider, carefully spins her corrupt intentions around the confused (and sometimes, utterly stupid) Sheba.

Cate Blanchett, on the other hand, has no trouble playing the self-destructive beautiful woman whose good nature and insecurity prove to be the weaker links that led her to willingly entrap herself into a scandalous affair with a student. When asked why, Sheba herself doesn't seem sure of the answer.

Ah, to be young and lustful. To be old and envious.

Cast:

Judi Dench as Barbara Covett
Cate Blanchett as Sheba Hart
Bill Nighy as Richard Hart
Andrew Simpson as Steven Connolly

Directed by: Richard Eyre
Source Writer: Zoe Heller
Screenwriter: Patrick Marber

Running time: 1 hour 38 mins
Rated R

Yey!

2007-02-23T11:06:00.000+08:00

One of the stories I felt good about writing. :)

Manila Bulletin, February 22, 2007

Green Street Hooligans (2005)

2007-02-15T19:58:00.000+08:00

I kras you, Charlie Hunnam!

Now that I have that out of the way, let me start by saying that I've always been partial to movies revolving around the theme of loyalty and brotherhood, no matter how worn out and cliche-ish they become.

Green Street Hooligans is no different.

A story about football hooliganism, it starts with Harvard journalism student Matt Buckner (played by Elijah Wood), getting wrongfully expended for cocaine possession barely two months away from graduation. Framed by his billionaire room mate, he chooses to suck it up, takes the $10,000 thank-you-for-saving-my-ass money, and jumps aboard a plane to England to visit his sister Shannon (Claire Fornali) and her husband Steve (Marc Warren) and to evade confrontation with his journalist father.

Only minutes after meeting his sister's family, Matt gets introduced to Steve's brother Pete (Charlie Hunnam), and later, to the rough and tumble world of Pete's football firm Green Street Elite (GSE), supporters of the West Ham United.

A firm, as Pete would put it, is a group of football fans who egg and support their local football teams which would normally end up in violent brawls (or "scraps") with the rival team's firm. This is the kind of world that Matt finds himself in.

Scoring two out of Pete's three worst things on the planet (Yanks, policemen, journalists. Matt tells his newfound mates he's a history major.), Matt nevertheless becomes as engrossed in the GSE as everyone else--pubs, violence, game. The freedom to kick ass is all that's been missing in his life, after all.

In between the raucous of chantings and throwing punches, Matt learns to "stand his ground and fight," even if that just means fighting for a couple of guys scrambling across the field to get a ball inside the opponent's goal.

Edgy and upfront some of the time, the film brings you face-to-face with what exactly is going on before and after goals are made. The real score is settled on the streets, with referees optional to non-existent. Sometimes it succeeds, sometimes it's just a long bludgeoning sequence tolerable only because of the eye candy that is Charlie Hunnam.

Martial arts expert-turned-director Lexi Alexander gets quite confused with what exactly she wants to say. Growing up with his brother in Germany, Alexander was herself a member of a football firm for three years--with her double black belt in karate being her ticket for membership in an all-male gang.

Perhaps because of the movie's personal nature, Alexander tends to become overly dramatic--playing elegiac, melodramatic music with brutal and graphic fight sequences in slow mo.

Fortunately, the movie draws some knock-out screen skills from its supporting cast, especially Hunnam, Gregory, and Warren. Playing GSE's top bad-asses, Hunnam and Gregory deliver in-your-face performances that make you snarl at their stupid recklessness and admire their sheer determination and loyalty. Especially Hunnam, who impresses with his hard-edged attitude and presence and whom I can't quite stop comparing to Heath Ledger. Warren, on the other hand, nudges your sympathy bone in his role as a guilt-ridden former GSE leader now focused on keeping on the right track.

Elijah Wood, for his part, tried his darnest best to get into the "tough guy wagon" and dissociate himself from any trace of Frodo Baggins. He tried, and that's all there is to it. For one, he does not look the part physically, even if the film argues the point of how a weak-looking Ivy League nerd takes a complete turn and becomes a streetwise hooligan. A plastic surgery might do the trick, but for the meantime, that face of his would never convince anyone that he's living a dangerous, kick-ass life. Unless we're talking about Middle Earth and that ring again.

With that said, I'd say I liked the movie simply because the genre appeals to me. Otherwise, you'd best save your DVD money for something else. Or maybe not.

Cast:

Elijah Wood as Matt Buckner
Charlie Hunnam as Pete Dunham
Claire Forlani as Shannon Dunham
Marc Warren as Steve Dunham
Leo Gregory as Bover

Other Titles: Hooligans, Green Street, Football Hooligans
Running Time: 108 mins.

Directed by Lexi Alexander

Awards:
1. Best Feature - La Femme Film Festival (2005)
2. Best of the Fest - Malibu Film Festival (2005)
3. Best Narrative Feature Special Jury and Audience Award - SXSW Film Festival
4. Official Selection - 2005 Tribeca Film Festival

* Internet connection is currently fucked-up. Will post photos soon.

Children of Men

2007-01-29T22:35:00.000+08:00

In my world, The Perfect Man exists. His name is Clive Owen. It doesn't matter if he's playing the part of a legendary king (Arthur), a jilted lover (Closer), or a cop struggling to defend the Old Town girls (Sin City), because somehow he always makes you feel and understand. You look at him and you realize it doesn't matter where he's taking you or where the story's going. You just let him do his thing and you're happy to be on the ride. Because when all else fails--problematic plot, weak screenplay--chances are, a character whom the audience can emphatize with would save a film.

Once on-screen, Owen takes over you. He grabs your undivided attention and refuses to let go. And you don't mind, really, because here is a man who knows what he's doing and is damn good at it.

Running out of things to do over the weekend, I chanced upon a DVD copy of Alfonso Cuaron's take on P.D James' novel Children of Men. I have heard of it before, but I wasn't familiar with the story. And with part of the DVD's sleeve where the synopsis was written torn and missing, I had to trust on Owen that this movie was something worth spending two hours of my life with. (Also because I have only seen two of Cuaron's work and I wasn't sure if those were enough to bank on his name alone. On the other hand, I don't need reasons to see Owen. I just do, like it's programmed somewhere in my subconscious.)

And how my faith on Owen's name has grown a thousand times since.

Set in violence-ravaged London in 2027, Cuaron's part chase-thriller, part science fiction, and part cautionary tale tells the story of (yet) another reluctant hero confronted with the responsibility of bringing a pregnant young woman to a sanctuary where she could deliver her baby. There shouldn't be too much of a fuss over this except that the whole planet has been suffering from infertility and facing the inevitability of extinction. The death of Baby Diego, at 18 the world's youngest human being, does not help either.

The unexplained global infertility aggravated by warring nationalist and rebel parties, immigrant invasion, and massive terrorism has left England on Ground Zero, and the only country who continues to "soldier on". Of course, not without a high cost.

The fictional 2027 London is a far cry from the beautiful cosmopolitan city we know today: tricycles and rickshaws populate highways, illegal immigrants and refugees kept inside steel cages line the streets, and suicide bombers blow up coffee shops around the corner.

Owen is Theo Faron, a former activist who made a 360-degree turn and is now a disillusioned bureaucrat for the Ministry of Energy. With his connections and knowledge of the present government, ex-wife Julian, now a leader of the rebel group Fisher dedicated to helping refugees (or fugees), asks him to help them in transporting Kee to the utopian Human Project. Unknown to him, the girl is eight months pregnant.

When the secret is revealed--everyone who tries to help and save Kee has a become target of several parties with conflicting interests.

Theo's initial confrontation with Julian is also the start of his character's unveiling. Owen's portrayal tugs and pulls you to see beyond Theo's loss of hope. Julian, with whom he shares the sadness of the death of their son, is the Achilles heel which eventually leads to the crumbling of the barriers Theo has erected around his emotions.

As the film dedicates itself to reflecting whatever is left of humanity at that time, Cuaron introduces you to Jasper. A former political cartoonist married to a former photojournalist, he now retreats to his quiet home in the woods reminiscing the old days with The Beatles, dancing to 90s hip hop music, growing weed, and "sticking it to the system" in whatever way he can.

Understanding and biting into Cuaron's tale come easy. You don't have qualms and second thoughts that this future is possible and true: violence, corruption, fear. What's even more remarkable is how the film captures, without being overly-dramatic or contrived, the sorrow and desperation of a world without children.

Owen's capacity as an actor goes well beyond expectations again. He doesn't try too hard; he does not even act. For a character that has been portrayed a million times before, Owen gives the usual "cynical tough guy" more depth and sensitivity. Thanks to his innate brilliance.

While the story's rise to the ranks as one of the past year's (if not THE) solid masterpieces can be partly attributed to the brilliance of its actors (Owen, Claire-Hope Ashitey who took on the challenge of playing Kee, and Michael Caine's lovable yet hearbreaking performance as aging hippie Jasper), a large part of the film's success Cuaron owes to its cinematographer. From the sequence shot with a single hand-held camera that captures Theo trying to evade bullets and tanks as he tries to go after Kee, to the her childbirth in a dingy room in the refugee camp. You don't just watch the movie. You feel it. You are with them. You feel the pain of your head hitting the car's roof as they were being chased by armed men in motorcycles, you smell the foul stench of burning flesh and human decay in the refugee camps, you hear the deafening sound of exploding bombs.

In the end, you may still have questions lingering in your head. But never enough to make you doubt, even for a millisecond, the truth of what you have just experienced. Cuaron, the same man who gave us the vivid and controversial "teen road-trip movie" Y Tu Mama Tambien and (for the pop culture crowd) the visual fete Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, succeeds in transporting you to a not-so-distant future and making you fear the possibilities. You believe.

Cast:
Clive Owen - Theo Faron
Julianne Moore - Julian
Michael Caine - Jasper
Claire-Hope Ashitey - Kee

Directed by Alfonso Cuaron
Running Time: 1hr 49mins

ESCADA (2).

2006-11-27T16:11:00.000+08:00

Kabuhayan Mutual Fund (2).

2006-07-06T15:53:00.000+08:00

Laoag for Cebu Pacific.

2006-06-05T15:38:00.000+08:00

Rodeo Masbateño.

2006-05-18T15:59:00.000+08:00