Il mio compleanno

Last week I grudgingly turned a year older, but so far this has been my best birthday yet, for numerous reasons. As was normal for me, I was totally dreading my birthday since almost all of my birthdays thus far have been so forgettable and catastrophic, and it would also be my first time to spend it overseas. Thus I hadn't made any grand plans on celebrating since there wasn't much cause to celebrate anyway.

The day itself was pretty much humdrum. I went to hear mass at St. Patrick's before noon and had lunch with Julie and Louise at Glebe Point Road. Louise was flying back to Denmark the next day and so I wanted to see her one last time before she left. After lunch she took us to her unit at Unilodge and she gave me all her nearly unused pots and pans, plus a book, a bottle of lotion and sunscreen and other stuff she thought I might like to keep. My loot was a bit heavy though, and since I had to commute all the way to Hornsby I ended up leaving most of the pots in an empty trolley outside her apartment building. I hope some person in dire need of cooking paraphernalia would stumble upon them.

Originally I wanted to spend the whole day just wandering around the city on foot and visiting free museums, but I was just too tired to do it. So after leaving Unilodge I went with Julie to Broadway Shopping Centre and we just hung out for a bit. I then had to meet my roommie at Westfield Hornsby after she got off from work so we could do our grocery shopping for our intimate dinner. I was so exhausted that I fell soundly asleep on the train.

My roommie surprised me with a lovely bouquet of flowers at the mall. We had a look at the shops and she ended up buying a nice dress, among other things. Our last stop was the supermarket where we bought stuff for puttanesca and roast beef. We got to her boyfriend's place quite late (we were house-sitting for his family) and I had to cook in a rush. I'm happy that both the pasta and the beef turned out delicious.

The day after was my birthday dinner. I booked a table for fifteen at Cantina Uno, a quaint little Italian place in the city. It had been a really warm day until it started to rain like mad early in the afternoon, and I mean torrential downpour proportions. The city even got flooded and I got a phone call from a friend saying that water got into his flat. Even the cars parked on his street were already submerged in water. I was seriously starting to panic and even toyed with the idea of cancelling the whole thing. I then decided to say a short prayer to ask for the rains to abate, and in a couple of hours it did stop raining completely.

I brought with me a couple of bottles of wine since the place was BYO. I had been waiting at the bus stop for almost an hour already but none of the buses to the city ever came. I called my roommie and she met up with me at the bus stop, and we started to strategise the fastest way to get to the city. We thought about catching the train instead even if it would take forever, but thankfully a bus did come. It was exploding with people and that meant that we had to stand while holding massive bags full of wine. We asked the bus driver what was was going on and according to him traffic was really bad in the city due to the rain. By some stroke of luck I saw a friend on the bus and told him that it was my birthday. I asked him if he could do me the favour of holding our heavy-ass bags for us since he was seated anyway, but he readily gave up his seat for me since it was my birthday. The situation reminded me of this Chasers episode where the guys were trying to see just how many freebies they could score by telling restaurant owners and bottle shops that it was their birthday, or that they were newlyweds.

After we got off the bus we were frantically hailing cabs, but Murphy's Law dictates that when you are in the biggest hurry all cabs shall be taken. Some friends were starting to call to say that they were already in the restaurant waiting for me, and I found it so embarrassing to be late to my own birthday dinner. Eventually we got into a maxi taxi and arrived a bit past eight, which wasn't too bad. Luck was still pretty much on my side that night, I suppose.

Dinner was fantastic. I had rag pasta with cuttlefish, chili and breadcrumbs, plus grilled eggplant, pesto and goat's cheese pizza. It took quite a while for the food to be served so we downed a few bottles of wine before eating. To cap my hearty meal, I had a shot of my uber favourite limoncello, and this made me so nostalgic about Italy.

I only invited a handful of good friends and thankfully they all turned up. Some of my other friends already flew out a few days before my birthday, and I did feel slightly depressed that they couldn't be there to party with me. Anyway, it was all good, I got lots of lovely presents, had an excellent meal and was in the company of very close friends.

After dinner, most of the pack had to leave cos they were tired from work/had work the next day, but a few of them did have drinks with me at this happening little Spanish bar called El Barrio. I had been there on a previous occasion with other friends and I did like the music and the place just gives off the vibe that everyone who sets foot here shall go home plastered. And we did. We finished several jugs of sangria and I shared a bottle of San Miguel with my roommie. It even reached a point where we were guzzling the sangria straight from the jug. The hot bartenders gave me a cake with a candle, and they kept pouring us free tequila shots. We took heaps of photos, and yes, photos don't lie. They are the best form of evidence of a night of extreme debauchery and intoxication, let's leave it at that.

My roommie and I did manage to get home at some stage early in the morning. When I got up most of the previous night's events seemed so hazy and I found myself strangely wanting to swear off alcohol for life, but I did and still do remember that it had been, by far, my maddest birthday. Ever.

***To all those who wished me many happy returns and spent time with me on my birthday last week, thank you. You made my first birthday away from home a really fabulous one.

The past few days...

- A good friend gave us a cute white Christmas tree with extremely girly pastel-coloured trimmings, like pink and purple balls, ribbons, fairies and gay-looking Santas. I lurrrve it. It's been getting raves from girlfriends.

- Slept over at my friend Coral's place last Wednesday. She whipped up a delicious dinner and we bought el cheapo yet good quality wine and spumante. She also made us some coquitos, a Puerto Rican cocktail made with coconut and rhum. Our friend Julie from France baked a chocolate cake, and our Danish friend Louise also made us Danish cookies from scratch. We watched Donnie Darko (my second time to see it) and pigged out again on Doritos and Pringles.

- My friends also slept over at my place two nights in a row. Louise made me penne al forno as a birthday present. We chose to stay home because we were all broke. Since we were too poor to afford ridiculously priced drinks in the city, instead we bought 7 bottles of wine for cheap, bags of candy and chocolates and we saw 20 Centimetres on SBS and Mala Educacion on DVD. Natalie also brought a good stash of videos (Little Miss Sunshine, My Father's Den), plus some rice crackers and a box of Lindt. Jose brought his laptop and speakers and put Bjork on. We also spent a good bit of the evening having good conversations and taking stupid-face-photos. Louise's Down's Syndrome face almost made me die of laughter. Yeah, it was a very mature way to spend the night.

- Had a job interview at uni Friday afternoon and I'm pretty sure I bombed it so I'm not too keen on talking about it. I'm really not expecting a call back from them so I guess I'll just have to look for other jobs next year. It was raining like mad on my way to uni for the interview and even if I brought our massive umbrella to shield me from the rain I still got drenched and it was embarrassing. My Thai friend Molly invited me to her graduation photo shoot on the same day but it was raining so bad that I couldn't go.

- Sunday I went to mass in Balmain and had a look at Julie's lovely house. The view from her place is amazing. We also met up with Coral and her neighbour Sebastian at the local pub to get $5 cocktails and play pool. It was my first time to play pool in my life and suffice it to say that I was absolutely shit at it.

- Monday I went to the South Coast with the other AusAid people. Was fun, yet tiring. Learned about the aboriginal way of life in Botany Bay, had lunch at Thirroul Beach, passed through lovely Kiama and then went trekking at Minnamurra National Park. I got rained on on my way home.

- I'll be house-sitting my roommie's boyfriend's house with my roommie for a couple of days this week. Yay, there's cable and I could play with their fat cat Ziggy.

***My friends are flying out this week, and most have already left. I'm just a bit depressed that I went on extreme anti-social mode during the early part of the semester. I actually only started speaking to these friends on the last week of class, only to find out that they're truly amazing people. Will definitely miss them heaps.

An indolent lifestyle and my dying liver

Since uni has been out, I have been living the sweet life of a sloth. My days are marked by getting up scandalously late, endless hours of internet, virtually zero exercise, heaps of fried chicken and inordinate amounts of alcohol.

Been drinking almost everyday since our Hunter Valley trip, where I spent the entire day learning the finer points of wine appreciation. Since I started to become relatively more sociable in recent weeks I've managed to meet and make a couple of good friends, but I think my current best mates are still vodka and rhum. Oh, I joke.

I've never been fond of beer and Red Horse is probably the only beer I can guzzle like water, but last weekend I tried a Mexican cerveza called Pacifico and it was passably good. A friend also came up to me holding a bottle of San Miguel and said 'This is from your country'. That compelled me to get a bottle for myself and I must admit it was goooood. It was nice, cold and crisp...well worth the $8 I paid for it (I'm pretty sure back home I could score around a dozen bottles with that price).

I was also able to try some new stuff: a shot of Poire from France which was excellent (and sweet just the way I like it), and another shot of Pisco from Peru. Drinking Pisco replicates the experience of gulping down a few drops of petrol. Suffice it to say that it's one of the nastiest stuff I've ever had (in the same league as the Fuoco dell'Etna from Italy, which was literally like drinking liquefied fire), and it might take quite a while before I could muster enough guts to give it another go.

Hell, I can't believe I just devoted the last two paragraphs to alcohol reviews. My dream job has always been to become a travelling food critic, but reviewing alcohol is just low-lifery on a whole new level. I should stop now. Damn, alcohol does make you lose IQ points.

Dreary weather

The weather forecast says showers until next week, which meant that my friends and I had to cancel our beach plans. I was also planning on going to the Museum of Contemporary Art tomorrow with another friend but I'm probably gonna have to postpone that as well. There's also the tour of The Scholar Ship scheduled for Saturday, but how can one be thrilled about checking out a fancy ship in raging weather?! So yeah, the prospect of being marooned in the house by myself until the weekend is not a very exciting one, compounded by the fact that there are no new DVDs to watch and basically nothing to do. Goes without saying that as we speak I am completely bored out of my mind. Bored enough to say that I actually want to go back to uni already.

Youth is not wasted on the young

I just realised that I'm slowly beginning to have some good friends who are younger than I am. A few years ago this would have been impossible, since I tended to fraternise with people who were older. This may not be such a nice thing to say but I never really had a high opinion of anyone my age or younger as I've always typecasted them as immature brats who were not very bright. My views have dramatically changed recently though, and now I find that younger people aren't that bad. In fact, there's a few of them who are actually quite sensible and act well beyond their years. I therefore resolve not to disparage younger people anymore, and I'll try hanging out with them more often now.

Bar anecdotes

Me (to a guy with weird-ass hair...his scalp looks like a honeycomb): Excuse me, do you mind taking our picture?

Guy gives me a nasty look, and turns his back on me.

After twenty seconds...

Guy: Hey, sorry, but did you want me to take your picture?

Me: Umm, yeah.

Guy: Sorry, I thought you wanted to take a picture of my hair. Everyone's been coming up to me tonight asking if they could take a picture of my head.

My roommie: Oh sorry, we didn't want a picture of YOU!!!

************************************************************************

I was about to take a picture of my friends, when suddenly in my camera's screen I found an extra head of some guy. After I snapped the button, the guy asks me 'Did it come out okay?'. I just gave him a thumbs up sign.

Ho finito, finalmente

esI'm finally finished with uni! No more presentations, exams, papers, lectures, tutorials and readings for the next three months. Had my last exam last night and handed in my case study paper this afternoon. My open-book international law exam went sorta okay, had to answer four essay questions in two hours. My hand got paralysed after all the furious writing though.

I went to see Across the Universe tonight to celebrate. Critique to follow.

Here's how I plan to spend the rest of the week: Helga's Film Festival in North Sydney tomorrow (gonna see La Vie en Rose, the Edith Piaf biopic), Hola Mexico Film Festival Opening Night on Thursday, Hunter Valley day trip on Friday. The concession price includes a tour of five wineries plus wine, cheese and chocolate tasting. Saturday we're gonna celebrate my roommie's birthday in the city with dinner and drinks. Sunday I might help my former roommie move out.

I was so stressed out lately that I just realised I haven't done my laundry in three weeks. Gasp. This is by far the longest I've gone without washing my clothes.

The greatest irony

Why is it that when you find yourself wasting away in boredom and desperate to have mates to drink with, every other person you know is busy, while when it's YOU who's knee-deep in work, the invites just come pouring in?!

I'm not complaining though. Once in a while it is still nice to be reminded of the fact that you are not a pariah and that you've still got a handful of friends willing to put up with your despicable company. But in a perfect world, we wouldn't have any problems with timing, would we? God is indeed one hilarious comedian.

Just a quick whine

Yesterday, I felt under the weather so I had to spend most of the day in bed. Didn't even have enough energy to walk to the kitchen to eat, so I ended up having my first meal of the day at around 4 pm. To all of you who enjoy the luxury of househelp, I hope you realise that you've got it good. And did I mention that you've got it good?!

My IPE paper is still unfinished and I totally do not want to work on it anymore. Arggh. While waiting to cross the street one day I saw a posted advertisement of some guy offering professional research paper-writing services. At the moment, I am willing to pay him up to 100 bucks (haha is this even enough?!) so that this damn paper will finally be out of the way.

It's getting all rainy and winter-y again all of a sudden. Perfect bed weather, but how can I sleep when there's shitloads of work to do?!

Damn. I want to get good marks, but I'm just scandalously lazy. At this point in time, I just want to fast-forward my life to the part where I'm already done with all my uni shit, nice and happy and all, and I'm at the Greater Union cinema watching Tarantino's Death Proof or Across the Universe. A couple of drinks afterwards and that would already be sheer bliss.

But til then I've got to get off my lazy ass and start working on my paper and let the next few painful and brain wrenching days pass me by. Too much academic brattiness might lead to my downfall, so I'll try to be an adult now (a responsible one, I hope).

I'mthisclose

The very stressful run-up to deadlines and final exams is getting me all antsy again. Two more big papers to hand in and two more finals to sit. But in two weeks' time I'll finally be free from the clutches of academic drudgery. I've already made plans on how to spend the holidays and I am stoked. Lots of films to see and places to go. But yeah, no partying til all assessments are over. I first have to work out a battle plan on how to get through the next few days (alive, and with decent marks I hope). I seek prayers from all of you.

A very bad habit and Corbijn's Control

Every time I find myself submerged with work, I do either of two things: surf the net like mad or go to the movies. Today I did both. I spent a good bit of the day checking out people's blogs, online forums, wiki, rotten tomatoes, IMDB and Facebook. I also searched for other postgrad programs that I might consider doing in the future (haha). I combed the www for certain 'dream jobs' as well.

Tonight I also saw Control, the black and white biopic of Joy Division's vocalist Ian Curtis (directed by Anton Corbijn). He committed suicide at 23 (sometime in 1980). I wasn't born yet at the time the band got big, but I do know of a couple of Joy Division (which later on became New Order) songs.

My verdict: Control was painfully beautiful. Corbijn reportedly decided to shoot the film entirely in black and white to reflect the atmosphere of Joy Division and the mood of the era. Each scene mirrored Ian Curtis' tortured soul, and his music is now replete with even more meaning as we see how his personal torment and grief compelled him to pen such melancholic lyrics (when asked whether Joy Division's music is beautiful, Curtis replied that "Some of it is...but some of it is not meant to be beautiful"). The haunting words and melody of 'Love will tear us apart' are still playing in my head as I type this.

What's your Friday song?

...mine's still the eternal classic Friday I'm In Love by The Cure, of course. It's been my Friday anthem since high school, and back then, Fridays = Galleria Day with friends (Sigh, to be sixteen again...). The minute I set foot in the mall after we've been let off from school, the opening riffs of the song automatically start playing in my head.

Back in college, Fridays meant hanging out with orgmates after class and/or seeing films at the UP Film Centre. When I started working, Fridays meant after-work dinners and drinks with friends. Nowadays my Fridays mean no uni, since Friday's the only weekday when I don't have class.

With or without romantic interests in my life, that song will forever be My Friday Song. It sucks that I might have to share it with probably a quarter of the people on this planet, but the fact remains that it is still my Friday-pick-me-upper. I wish I could just acquire the rights to the song so I can charge everyone royalties everytime they'd play my song on Fridays.

Incidentally, my flatmate's Friday song is Lauren Wood's Fallen. What's yours?

Units of time

I find the key is to think of a day as units of time, each unit consisting of no more than thirty minutes. Full hours can be a little bit intimidating and most activities take about half an hour. Taking a bath: one unit, watching countdown: one unit, web-based research: two units, exercising: three units, having my hair carefully dishevelled: four units. It's amazing how the day fills up, and I often wonder, to be absolutely honest, if I'd ever have time for a job; how do people cram them in?

***It's amazing that I still haven't been expelled from uni. I'm unbelievably lazy; I also just happen to be a master procrastinator, crammer and time-waster (How's that for a triple threat?). In fact, I often forget that the reason I'm here is that I'm a student who ought to be studying. Seems I'm doing everything but THAT. Given how much time I squander on a daily basis, I surprise myself that I still manage to fit uni stuff into my schedule, as a secondary activity to conjouring fantasies and staring at walls.

My life is made up of units of time. Buying CDs - two units. Eating lunch - three units. Exercising - two units. All in all, I had a very full life. It's just that it didn't mean anything.

***Yup, I've led an extremely full life as well - full yet meaningless. Almost a quarter of a century old but I've got nothing to show for it. Where did my units of time go again?

Defeating the curve

This entry is not about battling scoliosis or the evils of the oppressive bell curve grading system. On the contrary, it's about wrestling with culture shock, based on my 10-month tumultuous residence in this island-continent.

I remember in my Intercultural Communication class last semester we had an in-depth academic discussion about the culture shock phenomenon. What I particularly remember is that certain scholars have come up with models to represent the various phases of cultural adaptation one undergoes during a long-term stay overseas, and two of the more famous ones are the U and the W curves. I've had a few drinks tonight and so I am not too keen on getting into the nitty-gritty details of it, but for the uninitiated, clicking on the links should provide a fairly good explanation of things.

Friends who know me rather too well are aware that at several stages of my stay here I have found myself on the verge of giving up, for various excruciating reasons. There have been quite a few instances when I thought I was already on the higher levels of the curve, but every so often I'd be crestfallen since I'd repeatedly find myself plunging back to the its very abyss. A few months back someone asked me how I was doing, and the immortal opening lines of Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities came to mind: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. To my mind then it was always more of the latter than the former though.

As I write this I believe it is of no consequence anymore whether I am currently at the apex or the depths of the curve. Life is far too short and too exquisite to waste agonising about that. All I know is that I'm working towards achieving some semblance of normalcy and contentment again, and that I am friggin' bigger than any curve.

Things to do before I can par-tay

Most of my uni work's done, but I've still got shitloads of assignments to go before I can finally heave a ginormous sigh of relief:

1. a 1,500 word case study paper on the EU and the Washington Consensus, and a 3,000 word essay on World Bank and IMF reform for my International Political Economy class. Combined, these two assessments translate to 80% of my mark, and that is a very scary thought, especially since I am not particularly fond of this class.

2. a short exam and an oral presentation for my Communication & Power Paradigms class.

3. a final exam for International Law

4. another final exam for International Institutions

I've taped a list of uni assessments for all of my classes near my desk, and each time I hand in an essay or finish with a presentation, I make a tick next to the corresponding assignment. Once my list is all ticked off, I vow to go to the beach :-)

My to watch list & Cine Europa

Looking forward to seeing these in the next two weeks:

A Mighty Heart (I didn't know that Michael Winterbottom directed this!)

Control (92% rating at rottentomatoes)

Across the Universe

I haven't been to the movies in ages, which is extremely uncharacteristic of me. I used to regularly see a movie every Tuesday night (cheap night here) but recently all my uni stuff has been getting in the way. I try to make up for it by watching films on SBS (free tv) whenever I can, and I average around 2-4 weekly.

I've already seen the Cine Europa 2007 schedule and I feel so sorry that I'll be missing a lot of good films. I've been religiously attending Cine Europa screenings since high school and it's just heartbreakingly sad that I won't get to go this year. Lives of Others, Kolya and Ingmar Bergman's Fanny and Alexander are on this year's lineup, along with a host of other excellent European arthouse flicks. I remember last year I saw Klassfesten (The Reunion) with friends and it was totally hilarious; the year before that I saw Bergman's Trolosa (Faithless) and it was two and a half hours of pure cinematic genius.

Comfort food part deux

A Mars a day helps you work, rest and play



It's the way it shatters that matters

There's always a fabulous party in my mouth every time I have these candy bars. Yes, it is possible to eat your stress away.

Here's a good chocolate blog that I stumbled upon. Did you know that there are actually bacon chocolate bars? That is absofuckinglutely the greatest thing since sliced bread. Reminds me of those deleted scenes in Super Size Me where they featured deep-fried Twinkies and Three Musketeers bars which were coated in an uber rich batter.

Postscript: My friend Charlie alerted me to other funky chocolate flavours. Flambéd cognac? Chili chocolate? Infused tobacco?! Well, reviews say they're divine.

The good life

My past few days were beset with copious amounts of stress since I had to struggle to finish two big papers which were due a day apart from each other. But by the sheer grace of God (and my wicked cramming skills), I'm happy to announce that I've already handed in both essays.

For some reason, I've been feeling relatively peaceful and calm as of late. For a minute there I was actually tempted to say 'happy'; I wish to qualify however that in my present circumstances I am neither absolutely unhappy nor supremely happy, but suffice it to say that a strange feeling of contentment has taken over me.

Up till now I still can't quite put my finger on what precipitated the sudden change of emotional state. One of my theories is that it's probably because I was given a good number of hugs the past weekend by old friends whom I haven't seen in quite a while. I also had the chance to have lengthy conversations with a couple of people with whom I share similar interests at our housewarming party a few days back. Plenty of tactile contact and good conversations do indeed help a forlorn soul. A lot.

In addition, realising that I have been the recipient of heaps of blessings significantly altered my formerly bleak view of the world. I just had to remind myself that I actually have it good down here. The scores of suffering people in Darfur and Burma, my brother's friend whose dad had his mom killed, the quadriplegic in Spain who was lobbying for 30 years for an assisted suicide, the Russian girl who was trafficked to Sweden to be sexually exploited...just thinking about the lives of these characters that I've come across recently from reality and celluloid made me reconsider my personal definition of misery. There's some element of schadenfreude in there, I know, but only to the extent that their stories reinforced the fact that I certainly do not have a monopoly of the world's sadness. It also compelled me somehow to get out of self-pity mode pronto because (though it took aeons for me to realise this) I am one big friggin' lucksack. Even if half the time I find myself so utterly fugly, poor, stupid and generally inadequate, without a doubt I am still better off than more than half the world's population. And yeah, I think I'm also getting too old to whine and rant all the time. I figure it's about time I channel my energies to more positive endeavours.

The loneliness bit isn't so bad anymore. I remember someone said before that being literally by yourself most of the time shouldn't be a bad thing at all, because once in a while you ought to make it a point to hear yourself think. Having been my own best mate and worst enemy the past few months has been an insanely mad, chaotic yet enriching experience thus far. And I guess I would have to reluctantly admit this, but I believe I have considerably grown, changed and evolved since I got here.

I feel no shortage of regret however that some friends from the past are, well...gone. Wherever you people are, please just know that it was nice knowing you and that I wish you well. And for those that I have yet to meet (in non-contrived situations, I hope), I am completely thrilled by the prospect of meeting you.

Hope this newfound wellspring of serenity/pseudo-happiness doesn't dry up soon. If it does, I implore my good friends reading this to give me a good whack on the head.

We have it good, people. Well, yeah there are the requisite rough patches here and there but on the whole we have heaps of reasons to be sublimely thankful. Please tell me that I'm right.

An excellent film-watching week

Saw the following movies last week:

Donnie Darko

Lilya 4-ever

The Sea Inside (Mar Adentro)

Monsoon Wedding

P.S. All of them were mindblowingly good...more than satisfied my movie lust.

A rosy bride

Got this off one of my emails today:

...we've got the rest of our lives to hang out and make plans and lend each other books and watch movies and plays. It'll be a blast, dude. And I Do Love You that Much, I'll be there at your wedding. I'll take you on a walk, and that'll make you rosy, a rosy bride

Thank you. Guess it goes without saying that I miss you to death. Drinks are on me when we see each other again. And let's take a long walk together...one foot in front of the other–through leaves, over bridges :-)

Marry me, Hamish Blake

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xDLJOBUDjc]

Bits of screenplay from a favourite movie

This film is dedicated to lonely guys everywhere.

Lonely guys have been with us since the beginning of time.

There's one there. Poor guy.

Another new year's eve alone in the cave.

Even a thousand years from now,

the lonely guy will still be there.

Look at this guy.

That couple will go down in history.

All he gets to do is eat roast beef from a tube.

So all you lonely guys out there, this film is for you.

It's for guys like that guy, chin loo fung in canton, china.

He's got married brothers and sisters,

yet still eats alone in a chinese restaurant four nights a week.

It's for mbowie zoomba, another lonely guy.

While he's happy that cable tv has been installed in his area,

he'd really just like to meet a nice girl with attractive lip lace.

And it's for larry hubbard...

[larry hubbard] Hey, that's me, fifth one down. I'll take over the narration.

Hi, i'm larry hubbard. This is the story of how i became a lonely guy.

I came to manhattan to be a writer.

While i was working on my novel, i took a job at a greeting card firm.

It was working out pretty well.

What are you working on, hubbard?

It's an idea i had for a new kind of sympathy card, sir.

Mmm.

"I know how much your loss must grieve you,

"but here's a thought i'd like to leave you:

"Although you're sad remember that...

now god is petting your pussycat. "

Beautiful! Hubbard!

- Congratulations! You're moving up. - Thank you, sir.

- Get your things and take the front desk. - Yes, sir!

- Finley, harrison, annenberg, leach. - Yes, sir?

Stop whatever you're doing. I want pet cards.

Birthday, anniversary. And not just cats and dogs.

I want hamsters, fish, parakeets.

I was always lucking into things like that.

New york had been pretty good to me.

The best part was, i'd met this gorgeous ballet dancer named daniele.

She was nuts about me and asked me to move right in with her.

Every day at : she'd have bathed, perfumed,

put on a sexy nightie...

and be waiting alone in a big bed just for me.

Hi, daniele. Tarzan is here.

Oh, one second while i look through my mail here.

[Muttering] Oh, geez.

Hey, a rejection from a completely new publisher.

They're finally getting to know me in this town.

Hi, honey. You miss me?

- So, what'd you do today? Anything interesting? - Ohhh.

You gotta get out of the house. You can't mope

around all day waiting for me to come home.

Ohhh.

This your cigar in here, honey?

All ready for me i can see, huh?

Mmm. You smell good.

I don't believe you!

You come home, you find me in bed with another man,

you act as if nothing's going on.

Larry, this is my lover, raoul.

We're lovers. Understand?

- Hi, raoul. Larry hubbard. Nice to meet you. - Yeah, hi.

Have you known daniele long?

Yes, we're dancers in the same company.

- Dancer? I thought they were all... - yes.

Well, raoul's not! Raoul's all man.

Yeah.

And he's moving in tonight. After the nutcracker.

He's bringing his things over in the morning.

Bringing his things over? There's hardly enough room for our things!

Your things are going! I've already packed them!

They're in the hall beside the garbage, and you can take 'em out all together.

I know i'm behaving strange. Probably real strange.

I've never been in a situation like this before.

I don't know how to handle it. I still don't know how to handle it.

So i was waiting, calmly,

patiently, reasonably,

'til i do figure out how to handle this kind of situation.

Hold it. I think i've got it.

Yes, yes.

What the hell's going on here? What's he doing in this bed?

You disgust me, both of you!

I'm getting out of here, and i never want to see you in my life again!

I think i handled that rather well.

[Daniele, muffled] Oh, larry, don't forget the garbage.

I had no place to stay, nowhere to go.

There was no one to talk to. I must've looked pretty pitiful.

But that's the good thing about living in a big city like new york.

At least nobody i knew was going to see me like this.

Shpring break!

Today is officially the first day of my mid-semester break. I'll be back at uni on the 2nd of October, since Labour Day falls on the 1st (which also happens to be my mom's birthday).

Sad news is it wouldn't be much of a break though, since I've got two major essays to work on (both worth a huge chunk of my grade, 40% and 60%!). My case study groupmates and I have agreed to meet up next week as well to discuss our report for next month. While a good majority of the student population is scampering to leave Sydney to go on holidays or to get majorly hammered at various parties/Conception Day festivities, I am currently worrying myself to death as to how I'll finish those papers. Boo on me.

Well, one of our friends is sleeping over tonight and we might just come up with some mellow partying suitable for our age group, i.e. post-college, mid-twenties, post-partying-is-all-about-getting-wasted-mentality people. We might just opt for some quiet conversations over a bottle of rhum and chips, and maybe have a DVD marathon if we're still up to it.

Plans on how to spend the next seventeen days:

1. Finish international law and ICOM 815 essays.

2. Meet with case study groupmates and finally get something concrete done. (The past meetings had mostly been idle chatter and arguments hehe.)

3. Have a few drinks and quiet dinners (outdoors, I hope...and with actual people hehe!) once in a while.

4. Watch heaps of DVDs and arthouse films on SBS. I hope to finally rent Kieslowski's Three Colours Trilogy and the director's cut of Cinema Paradiso. Was able to get a special edition copy of A Very Long Engagement for half the price, so that's on the list as well.

5. See at least one movie every Tuesday (cheap night here). Get in touch with a friend who's mad about movies like I am and see if there are any good ones on in the city.

6. Clean our flat!

7. Fill out some application forms (my new top-secret project), write a few important letters.

8. Organise a trip to Hunter Valley (though I doubt I'll have enough time or funds for this).

9. Visit some free museums in the city.

10. Improve kitchen skills and cook some real food.

11. Bask in spring sunshine! It's getting warmer now and the weather's been lovely --- not too cold, not too hot.

12. Read the unread stuff in my bookshelf.

13. Ponder my place in the universe. HAHA.

I'll see what else I can add to this inane list. Wishing you all a good break.

*****************************************************************************

Song in my head at the moment: Eraserheads' Sem Break, but with the word 'sem' changed to 'spring'. HAHA.

Comfort food

I'm on my fourth bag this week. Bought two bags last weekend (it was on special, just $1.50) while my flatmate and my other friend gifted me with a bag each yesterday. They know how much I heart Cheese Supreme Doritos (I can wolf down a bag in a matter of minutes). Hell, I even have Doritos for breakfast sometimes.

I know that I have got to stop eating Doritos, but once you've been turned into a Doritos shlut, there's just no turning back [the accompanying theme song of this post is Chicago's equally cheesy (pun totally intended) Hard Habit to Break].

Incidentally, Doritos is a genetically-modified snack. I'm actually growing gills as we speak.

Strongbows and other S words...

Alone again in the flat. Story of my life.

Had two Strongbows tonight. I felt a 5% buzz which gradually crept up to my head, down to my fingertips and toes. Not bad.

Coated two pieces of chicken thigh fillets with Crispy Mix and pan-fried them. I just had to vindicate myself from the cataclysmic chicken-burning failure I got myself into last weekend. Well, the fillets tonight weren't as crispylicious as I would've wanted them to be, but they were superlatively better than the chicken I spectacularly burned last weekend. Not to mention the house reeked of the lethal combination of old oil and charcoal for two days (almost finished an entire can of Glade trying to remedy the situation). Well, frying had never been my strongest talent anyway.

Remember Sesame Street? They always had a particular letter of the alphabet "sponsoring" every episode. Well tonight my evening is brought to you by the letter S: Strongbow, solitude, plus one other unmentionable S that just ventures into macabre territory.

******************************************************************************

Postscript: My International Political Economy readings for tomorrow remain unread. Ugh. I already understand that politics and economics are intertwined. Enough already.

Tomorrow's weather forecast says a high of 15 and a low of 9. Strange, but I am quite happy to hear that.

Vosotros in slang

Saturday night. My flatmate and I just signed up to be members at our friendly neighbourhood video rental place...

Video rental guy at the counter (generic pimply-faced prepubescent kid...think: burger flipper from The Simpsons...the recurring character) : Thanks! See YOUS later!

How cute is that?!

So yeah, i'll see yous later...

Cinema Paradiso

Alfredo: I'll tell you a story. Just for you Toto. Let's sit down. God Almighty! Once upon a time......a king gave a feast. The most beautiful princesses were there. A soldier who was standing guard saw the king's daughter go by. She was the loveliest one, and he fell instantly in love. But what is a simple soldier next to the daughter of a king? One day he managed to see her and told her he could no longer live without her. The princess was so taken by the depth of his feeling that she said to the soldier:"If you can wait for 100 days and 100 nights under my balcony, I shall be yours." With that, the soldier went and waited one day, two days......then ten, twenty. Each evening the princess looked out and he never moved! Always there, come rain, come thunder. Birds shat on his head, bees stung him, but didn't budge. After 90 nights, he had become all dry and pale. Tears streamed from his eyes. He couldn't hold them back. He didn't even have the strength to sleep. And all that time, the princess watched him. When 99th night came......the soldier stood up, took his chair, and left.

Toto: How come? Right at the end?

Alfredo: Right at the end, Toto. Don't ask me what it means, I don't know. If you figure it out, you tell me.

[Few years later, Toto has learned a bit more about life, and presents his interpretation of the story's ending.]

Toto: Remember the story about the soldier and the princess? Now I understand why the solider left right at the end. In one more night, the princess would have been his. But she also could not possibly have kept her promise. And that would have been too cruel. It would have killed him. This way, at least, for 99 nights, he was living under the illusion that she was there, waiting for him.

Alfredo: Do as the soldier, Toto. Go away.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cfFblhAKECA]

The loneliest girl in Sydney

Tonight the loneliest girl in Sydney is cold. The 10 degree winter chill only exacerbates the loneliness.

Her stomach grumbles with fury. She skipped dinner tonight; dinner is never particularly exciting when you have no one to eat with.

She wonders if Steve Martin's The Lonely Guy was based entirely on her biography.

She's also thinking about someone she met last week. Too bad he's gone. She found him quite pompous and full of himself anyway, but intelligent nonetheless. How does one date? How does the process work again? She's been stuck in her bubble of security too long to remember.

And when Thoreau said I have never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude. We are for the most part more lonely when we go abroad among men than when we stay in our chambers, did he mean it?

Táctica y Estrategia

Mi táctica es
mirarte
aprender como sos
quererte como sos

mi táctica es
hablarte
y escucharte
construir con palabras
un puente indestructible

mi táctica es
quedarme en tu recuerdo
no sé cómo ni sé
con qué pretexto
pero quedarme en vos

mi táctica es
ser franco
y saber que sos franca
y que no nos vendamos
simulacros
para que entre los dos

no haya telón
ni abismos

mi estrategia es
en cambio
más profunda y más
simple
mi estrategia es
que un día cualquiera
no sé cómo ni sé
con qué pretexto
por fin me necesites

****************************************************************************

Tactic and Strategy

My tactic is
to look at you
to learn how you are
to love you as you are

my tactic is
to talk to you
and to listen to you
to build with words
an indestructible bridge

my tactic is
to remain in your memories
I don't know how
nor
with what pretext
but to remain with you

my tactic is
to be frank
and to know that you're frank
and not to sell to ourselves
simulations
so that between us
there is no curtain
nor abyss

my strategy is
in contrast
deeper and
more simple

my strategy is
that one of these days
I don't know how
nor
with what pretext
you finally
need me.

Mario Benedetti

The Briarwood Project

Photos of our new flat. Comments to follow. Been deluged by readings + am flying to Canberra tomorrow for a conference so I haven't really got the luxury of time.



living room (L's couch is on the left, mine's on the right, and our dear Patrick Star in the middle)



kitchen



dining room



main entrance + living room



balcony



my couch + dining room + TV



bathroom



laundry

8 Factoids

Got tagged by Sparks to reveal 8 facts about myself. I'd like to think that I'm a very private person and I wouldn't normally divulge boring personal information on the big bad web, but I'll make an exception this time. As I quote Sparks, it should be fun. Here goes.

Here are the rules for “8 facts”:

1.)In the 8 facts about [name], you share 8 things that your readers don’t know about you. At the end, you tag 8 other bloggers to keep the fun going. Each blogger must post these rules first.
2.) Each blogger starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3.) At the end of the post, a blogger needs to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
4.) Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

1. I absolutely loathe eggs. I wouldn't touch those gross things even if my life depended on it. However, if push came to shove, I'd eat egg whites, but I would never eat the yolk, even if you paid me.

2. I give good massages....deep, hard and strong ones. I particularly love to give foot massages. I'm a self-taught masseuse; I just read this free Body Shop booklet on reflexology from cover to cover and then I started practicing on my family and friends. Because of my fantastic massage skills, to date I have gotten a marriage proposal, a free dinner, a designer Italian bag and friends for life.

3. I still get ID'd all the time. In fact, last night I was denied entrance at a bar since I couldn't produce any identification with my birthdate on it. My friend came to rescue me and tried to plead with the bouncer to let me in. She told him Come on, she doesn't look 18. He turned to her and said Yes, she does. Boo.

4. I just recently discovered that I love cleaning. Cleaning is pure bliss. It's a powerful cathartic exercise for me, an outlet to release my pent-up frustration. It's also a good way to de-stress. Cleaning makes me feel responsible. Seeing my room and house clean and organized gives me an incredible sense of gratification.

5. I can fall asleep anywhere. Well, almost anywhere. I've already slept in public parks (on the grass and on benches), train platforms, airports, weird shaped couches and hospital waiting rooms. I seem to be lulled to sleep more quickly though whenever I'm in a moving vehicle.

6. I hate birds very much. I mean, I'm a big fan of cooked birds but I don't like seeing real live ones. I hate the way they look. I hate their stupid beaks and their stupid claws. They make gratingly annoying sounds. Their eyes bespeak of evil and their wattles are revolting. Birds might be the progeny of Satan. My greatest fear is that one day some bird will stab me with its beak and claw me to death. This macabre vision is probably the result of having seen Hitchcock's The Birds at a tender young age.

7. I am an undisputed senti music guru. I know that Christopher Cross sang Arthur's Theme (When you get stuck between the moon and New York City...) and that Simply Jessie is the title of the song with the opening line And I don't know how I knew it/but I knew it somehow...I can confidently claim that I know all of the songs on heavy rotation at WRock 96.3 and The Mellow Touch 94.7. Who dares challenge me?!

8. Back in HS, I wasn't able to attend a single soirée. My friend tells me that I didn't miss much anyway. She says soirées are just like the peahen-peacock mating ritual, only with humans.

I'm tagging:

allan, blossom, erika, rhoda, marian, rio, kaye, vito

Eight steps towards a more satisfying life

Two years ago, Time Magazine did a special feature on "The New Science of Happiness". It was basically a lengthy article with lots of breakthrough findings on happiness research, and it also included graphs indicating the happiness index of Americans, a Satisfaction with Life Scale to measure your happiness level, and this excerpt which I'm reposting in full below.

I was fortunate to have stumbled upon the PDF version of the four-page Time article online. Do give me a heads up if you'd like a copy.

P.S. According to the Satisfaction with Life Scale (which was devised in 1980 by University of Illinois psychologist Edward Diener, a founding father of happiness research), I am very satisfied with my life. Surprise, surprise.

***************************************************************************

Want to lift your level of happiness? Here are some practical suggestions from University of California psychologist Sonja Lyubomirsky, based on research findings by her and others. Satisfaction (at least a temporary boost) guaranteed

1. Count your blessings. One way to do this is with a "gratitude journal" in which you write down three to five things for which you are currently thankful-from the mundane (your peonies are in bloom) to the magnificent (a child's first steps). Do this once a week, say, on Sunday night. Keep it fresh by varying your entries as much as possible.

2. Practice acts of kindness. These should be both random (let that harried mom go ahead of you in the checkout line) and systematic (bring Sunday supper to an elderly neighbor). Being kind to others, whether friends or strangers, triggers a cascade of positive effects-it makes you feel generous and capable, gives you a greater sense of connection with others and wins you smiles, approval and reciprocated kindness-all happiness boosters.

3. Savor life's joys. Pay close attention to momentary pleasures and wonders. Focus on the sweetness of a ripe strawberry or the warmth of the sun when you step out from the shade. Some psychologists suggest taking "mental photographs" of pleasurable moments to review in less happy times.

4. Thank a mentor. If there's someone whom you owe a debt of gratitude for guiding you at one of life's crossroads, don't wait to express your appreciation-in detail and, if possible, in person.

5. Learn to forgive. Let go of anger and resentment by writing a letter of forgiveness to a person who has hurt or wronged you. Inability to forgive is associated with persistent rumination or dwelling on revenge, while forgiving allows you to move on.

6. Invest time and energy in friends and family. Where you live, how much money you make, your job title and even your health have surprisingly small effects on your satisfaction with life. The biggest factor appears to be strong personal relationships.

7. Take care of your body. Getting plenty of sleep, exercising, stretching, smiling and laughing can all enhance your mood in the short term. Practiced regularly, they can help make your daily life more satisfying.

8. Develop strategies for coping with stress and hardships. There is no avoiding hard times. Religious faith has been shown to help people cope, but so do the secular beliefs enshrined in axioms like "This too shall pass" and "That which doesn't kill me makes me stronger." The trick is that you have to believe them.

My life as a Greenpeace intern

I did my Greenpeace internship for credit. One of the elective units I took last semester for International Communication required us to undertake a minimum of three weeks internship and thereafter we had to deliver an oral presentation and hand in a 5,000 word paper. I must've applied to a bajillion consulates here in Sydney, but all I got was a handful of replies stating that they were not offering any internships at the moment. Thankfully, Greenpeace got back to me in lightning speed and offered me a place at their office. What particularly piqued my interest about doing my internship at Greenpeace was the fact that they had a formal internship program in place, and they actually encourage international students to come to Australia and volunteer at their Sydney office. Also, they are probably the only internship provider which gives interns a daily allowance to cover food and transportation. In addition, I enjoy volunteering tremendously. I had previously done a fair amount of volunteer work back in Manila (and once here in Sydney), but this was my first time to get involved in environmental advocacy and it greatly excited me.

My 20-day internship at Greenpeace Australia Pacific ended last week, and since I've got a couple of days left before the second semester starts on the 30th (imagine starting a new semester at the end of the month), I've decided to put together a compendium of the highlights of my experience:

- Upon the insistence of my lecturer, I negotiated with the Volunteer Coordinator that I be assigned with the Campaigns Department. Since one of the core skills we were expected to learn in this unit was "negotiating work arrangements", I reluctantly shed my shy-skin and spoke to the Volunteer Coordinator about it. I let him read my approved internship proposal which specified that my Broad Skill Area (BSA) for this Work Integrated Learning (WIL) was Organizational Communication, my Median Skill Area (MSA) was Campaigning and my Narrow Skill Areas (NSAs) were writing letters and/or press releases and articles, preparing campaign publicity materials, organizing campaign events and liaising and coordinating with other campaigners. Fancy-schmanzy terms aside, the extremely pleasant Volunteer Coordinator arranged for me to work with the Clean Energy and Climate Change Campaign Teams. Initially, he was hesitant to put in me in the Campaigns Department because he was under the impression that I was painfully shy and he feared that I might not"thrive" in such a stressful and fast-paced environment. He actually gave me the option of working at the Communications Department instead since he felt that it would be better suited for my personality, skills and my field of specialization. In the end, I decided to go out of my comfort zone and just stick it out with Campaigns, mostly because I couldn't be bothered to revise my internship proposal all over again.

- My direct supervisor at the Campaigns Department was this dear old lady Sarah Neal, who headed the Grey Power Community. Grey Power is an initiative supported by Greenpeace to encourage older Australians to take action on tackling climate change. Sarah had been the complete anti-thesis of Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada; she gave me free reign around the office and was just about the nicest boss ever. She always affirmed my work and kept apologizing profusely for giving me menial tasks. On my last day, I wrote her a short note and gave her a pack of dried mangoes and Chocnut. To my surprise, she also handed me a gift-wrapped present. Inside were two books: The True-Blue Guide to Australian Slang and a book of Australian panographs. Sarah also gave me her number and address, and told me to come visit her home in Manly sometime.

- Greenpeace work culture dictates that I could take as many breaks as I want, come in at 10:30 and have lunch for two hours. Theirs is probably the most laid-back office environment ever. Most of the campaigners don't report to work everyday and some work from home. They could go on holiday for weeks, but I assume that they still do Greenpeace work in the field. In the middle of the day, the PA would announce that there would be a soccer match at the park (our office is near the Tumbalong Park at Darling Harbour) and everyone would leave their desks to either play or watch. On my first day, I wore passably decent smart-casual attire; but then I saw this IT guy walk past who was wearing boxers and a white undershirt. This inspired me to come to work in my Chucks and ratty jumpers from then on. Also, employees ride their bikes to work, and they park them inside the building.

- I did a lot of grunt work at Greenpeace like opening and sorting mail, envelope stuffing, sticking address labels, data encoding, wrapping posters and windwills (haha will explain next time)...but who's complaining? I loved every second of it. I realize that working with my hands (i.e. folding) is very therapeutic and relaxing. Also, I knew that no matter how small the task, if it helped save the environment somehow then I would go home a very happy intern. Nevertheless, I was also able to do some non-menial stuff as well, like editing the Grey Power newsletter, doing research on climate change and renewable energy and helping with the preparations for the launch of The Big Switch website. The Big Switch is a fast-growing coalition of Australian organisations, businesses and community groups whose goal is to raise awareness about climate change solutions by informing people about simple lifestyle choices we can make to reduce our greenhouse gas emissions. Concrete proof of my contribution to The Big Switch site could be seen here, but if you check out the other forums you might come across my other numerous posts as well.

- The Volunteer Coordinator also pulled some strings so I could attend an internal workshop for Communications interns. I ended up videotaping the workshop despite my absolute lack of skills in operating a videocam just so I could "attend" this session. I'm pretty sure the tape's got a lot of Blair Witch Project-esque shots.

- My best experience as an intern by far and hands down would have to be the day I went postering at Bondi Beach. Together with an Aussie intern (whose accent was as thick as glue), we were sent off to Bondi to put up posters publicizing the Save Anvil Hill rally (Anvil Hill is a coal mine). We were told to stick the posters near bus stops and outside cafes for maximum public exposure. But when we got to Bondi, we were surprised to find that all the posts were bare. Apparently, since it was a busy tourist spot, the Council preserves Bondi's cleanliness by tearing down all posters on walls and posts. In addition, several police and Council people were patrolling the area when we arrived. Wah! We had not been forewarned that it was illegal to go postering in Bondi. We initially wanted to ring the campaigner who assigned us this task to tell him that we wanted to back out, but then we decided to just do it and get it over with. So, me and my partner proceeded to carry out our work as inconspicuously as possible, lest we be arrested. This was our division of labor: I was the designated "holder" while my partner was the designated "taper". We expertly put up each poster in under a minute, while dodging police and Council people. I just had to keep one poster for myself to remind me of my best/worst day as an energy campaigner.

- As a parting gift, I was taken to lunch at an Asian vegetarian resto (which serves vegetarian peking duck) and given a Greenpeace goodie bag with a mug, a CD and an uber cool shirt which reads: "We love Japan...but whaling breaks our hearts" (I also helped out with the data encoding for the whales campaigns). Also, I was given a magnificently written reference letter. Woohoo!

- I have now been using green bags instead of plastic when I go grocery shopping. I have also convinced my flatmate to switch to green electricity. We now switch off our appliances at the power point when not in use. As long as I can still handle the cold, I do not turn on my heater. I take quicker showers now since even an extra minute would waste a significant amount of water. I now know which foods are genetically modified, and as much as possible I try not to buy these products anymore (but I can't seem to give up my Doritos, Oreos and Maggi seasoning, sorry). Little things, but I know that in my own small way I am reducing my greenhouse emissions and saving our dear planet. Thank you, Greenpeace, for enlightening me on this.

Niña Simpson

Does she look anything like me? :-)

Amici per sempre

A bottle of Keglevich lemon vodka: 15 euros

Average price of a cocktail in Reggio Calabria bars: 5 euros

All the other alcoholic beverages we consumed while in Italy: virtually half of our stipend

The feast we had at that overpriced Da Giovanni resto: 17 euros each

A ginormous pizza at Fado: 5 euros

Gelato at Cesare: 1.60 euros

Overnight stay at youth hostels: 20 euros per person

Our train and bus tickets + entrance fees at museums and places while we were traipsing around Italy: all our stipend, pocket money, plus debts

Postcards, keychains, and all other souvenirs: a significant amount of money, believe me

Spending the best 3 months of my life in Italy with 5 unforgettable people: Priceless

There are some things money can't buy, but for everything else, there's Helen, Karl, Candy, Aileen and Evan.

*****************************************************************************

I just realized that it's been three years since we were in Italia, ragazzi. And I forgot to remind you guys about our anniversario hehe!

Vi voglio un mondo di bene...un abbraccio molto forte. Mi mancate tantissimo!

Happy news

First semester results were officially released today...and I am happy to report that I am exceedingly pleased with the marks that I got :-) It's not like I aced all of my classes or anything like that, but it's just that initially I was expecting abysmally low grades. As I mentioned in one of my earlier entries, at one stage I just totally lost my academic mojo, and everything went downhill from there. I even got a depressingly low mark on one of my major papers (which was 50% of my grade!) and so I really prepared myself for the worst.

I remember I even discussed this with my mom months ago. I told her that I am already way past the grade consciousness phase (yes, I had no life back in college...up to now even...but see, as a wide-eyed college dork, my life principally revolved around grades and I had generally considered one's scholastic performance as a yardstick to gauge intelligence and future success...in hindsight, I realize that I was indeed an unbelievably stupid and anal kid), and that I've been studying all my life and I am pretty much burned out now and all that jazz. The basic gist of the conversation was that I was mainly preparing her for the eventuality that I will miserably botch up my grades and thus I conditioned her not to expect brilliant results from me anymore.

But yeah, I guess this is sufficient cause for celebration :-) However, due to my self-imposed moratorium on deep-fried food (my flatmate and I recently purchased a deep fryer, and believe me we have been putting it to good (?) use), I'll probably just have a drink or two later. And maybe watch Harry Potter.

Of long weekends, mammoth parcels and Greenpeace...

Next Monday's a public holiday (Queen's Birthday). Tomorrow I'm delivering my last oral presentation for the semester and so I'm really looking forward to this weekend. Still unsure about my plans, but there will definitely be some celebratory drinking involved :-)

The two colossal boxes that my mom sent me arrived today. My flatmate and I picked them up from the post office and I had to fit them in a trolley so we could bring them home. Upon seeing the sheer size of the boxes, my flatmate incredulously asked: Jesus, are those yours? What's in there?! I told her that they were mostly clothes, bags and shoes that I had to leave behind because my luggage was extremely overweight. She was like, Huh?! Seems like your mom packed your whole closet. She was partly right, though. My mom did send me roughly 5% of the contents of our entire house. Apart from some winter clothes, bags and a few pairs of shoes and flipflops, she also threw in some perfumes, cosmetics, accessories, an umbrella, world maps, some stuffed animals...even a couple of packets of sinigang mix. Haha. Sadly, she sent me the wrong pair of white shoes :-(

Next Tuesday I'll be starting my internship at Greenpeace. Feeling apprehensive yet excited just the same. Hope things turn out okay. The Volunteer Coordinator from Argentina seemed quite nice and helpful. And it's also a real good thing that they'll provide me with a small allowance to cover transportation and food.

P.S. Despite all the rough patches, I can confidently say that I have never been this *happy* in several months.

My girls are the sweetest...

Pajamas from May (B2!), Cat book from Charlie, Scrapbook with pics from Marsi...

My bestest girl friends sent me a care package via DHL! These girls are absolute darlings :-) Thanks so much, you really made my day! Missing you all terribly...hugs and lots of love.

Please prepare to get seriously smashed when I come home next year...hehe! ;-)

Updates and gibberish

- Just watched History Boys. Brilliant storyline, excellent cast. My only beef about it is that there was just a bit too much homosexuality going on towards the latter parts of the film (not that I'm a homophobe or anything), but nonetheless it still made for a good plot. I really wish I had their smarts...I mean, those guys could quote Auden, Byron and Keats at the drop of a hat.

- Handed in three papers and delivered an oral presentation yesterday. At least part of my academic ordeal is already over. Two final exams, two presentations, one ginormous paper and three weeks of internship to go.

- It's almost officially winter; the chilly nights and 10 degree mornings are heralding its arrival. Guess that explains my extra huge appetite as of late.

- I'm in a real adultsy-type dilemma right now, but I just spoke to a friend and we both agreed that we will take a big leap of faith on this one (even if we run the risk of moving in with strangers or being homeless in the process). It's a calculated risk and we've drawn up a list of contingency plans. I've always believed that you should do at least one stupid/brave/rash thing (or a combination of all three) in your lifetime anyway. Besides, if everything works according to plan, the benefits would be really worth it.

- Really looking forward to the winter break. One whole month of reading and watching movies and basically just lazing around. That would be really sweet :-) If it's not too cold, maybe I can go explore the city and check out the other free museums I still haven't been to.

- Free TV over here is worse than free TV back home. But out of the six or so channels they have, the most decent one is SBS, since they air South Park episodes and a handful of good arthouse stuff (they have Bandila as well!). I checked this week's TV Guide and Goya en Bordeaux is on this Thursday, plus Run Lola Run this Saturday. The first season of Big Love will also premiere this Sunday. Last week I was able to catch Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress, one of my favorite, favorite films in the world. Two good scenes:

Ma Jianling sucking out venom from the finger of the Little Seamstress, who was bitten by a snake. Unbeknownst to the girl, he is madly in love with her. She asks him: Why are you shaking? It didn't bite you.

The ending (a flashback sequence), where all the three of them were underwater, and the Little Seamstress' head was on Luo Ming's shoulder as he reads her a book (presumably Balzac). Ma Jianling was behind them, playing his violin. The bottle of perfume which he bought for the Little Seamstress in France was floating in the background.

I read somewhere (it was on amazon.com, I believe) that the flooding of the Yangtze River (which submerged the town where the story was set) was a metaphor for the loss of innocence of the three characters. In effect, the water drowned all the memories of their youth, which the two boys basically spent reading Dostoevsky and Balzac to the girl. Sadly the Little Seamstress was radically changed by the ideas of these European writers, and she abandons the two boys who absolutely adored her so she can try her luck in the city.
This is one of the few films that are just so heartbreakingly beautiful and it still remains as magnificent no matter how many times I watch it. Curiously, it was based on the semi-autobiographical novel (written in French) of Dai Sijie, who also directed the film.

The Science of Sleep

Saw this movie last night. It was a real charming gem of a film. I adore anything remotely surrealist, and that explains why Buñuel and Medem are among my favorite filmmakers (I love Miró's and Dalí's artwork as well). Michel Gondry is now one of my new favorite directors (he did Eternal Sunshine a few years back), and this movie has now secured a slot in my desert-island top films list.

Gael's character and myself are very much alike, in many respects (except the artistic part...I can't draw to save my life), but the fact that we are both big narcoleptics who can't reconcile real life from reveries takes the cake. His saccharine yet childish antics moved me to pieces. Case in point, he gave Charlotte Gainsbourg a cool time machine he invented as a no-particular-occasion present, and when asked why, he sweetly muttered, "on the occasion that you're pretty".

Some have commented that the film left them monumentally bored, but surprisingly the montage of beautiful images and colors engaged my eyes and really left me in a dream-like state for almost two hours. Sheer genius. And Gael and his quirky officemates even performed a slow, jazzy and cutesy song called "If You Rescue Me" (which apparently is a pseudo-cover of a Velvet Underground song) while they were in cat costumes. Such cuteness...

One of the best opening sequences in a movie. Check it out:

[youtube=http://youtube.com/watch?v=-78pDIEFZoE]

A Work of Pure Genius

This was written years ago by my one of my uber bestest friends in the world, Noel (I kept your stuff in my hard drive!). I was totally blown away by this story, and apparently, it took him a grand total of just five minutes to write it. Dude, you're on your way to perfecting the art of flash fiction. And hey, you should send me your new sketches. I wish you the best of luck in becoming the ultimate Renaissance Man :-)

Here's to all the liters of Red Horse which defined our friendship, all the lazy hours  swapping the corniest jokes at Oz Cafe/Brothers'/the Main Lib/Watering Hole, all the conversations laced with absolutely wicked humor (The Impregnator! Soon to be a graphic novel!), all the crazy afternoons spent at arcades trying to whip each other's asses at racing games, hoops and air hockey...basta! Miss ya supah mucho! Send my love to Angeli :-)

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A Poor Count Dracula Story

It was the 1920s. Dracula was afraid of spires. Dracula was afraid of other buildings atop other hilltops, obstructing his view of the great Transylvanian scenery all around. At night he would rise from his crypt and his heart would sink, looking at the other houses, some that blocked even the sanguine shape of the full moon. More and more houses were being built by more and more people. Peasants were building houses, villagers were building houses, mountains were being peppered with houses. Houses were everywhere. Dracula was afraid of houses. Dracula was afraid of architecture. He could turn himself into mist, bat, wolf, decay, any form of insect and he was afraid of architecture. He was afraid of building plans. He was afraid of the population encroaching his territory. And they were building. He could suck their blood and filch the souls off their bodies and these were all powerless to stop him yet he was afraid of cement and bricks and mortar. Dracula cried tears of blood and he shivered thinking of chimneys and windows and the compactness of stone. He was wary of hitting his head against stone. Dracula would stare at his own castle’s walls and over and over again ram his own body, inhuman, bat or wolf again and again against the hard stone. He did not wish to imagine the pain of hitting the stone from other people’s houses and so he began breaking his bones against his castle’s walls so that he may be made infirm and incapable of traveling out. But the houses were still waiting for him. He had never felt that much fear before.

One night, he stabbed his own heart and jumped from atop his castle’s walls. One by one, the villagers came out to stare at his body. Their laughs echoed throughout the night and a feast was held in the morn. Their houses laughed and ate the Count’s bones.

Si tú me olvidas

Quiero que sepas
una cosa.

Tú sabes cómo es esto:
si miro
la luna de cristal, la rama roja
del lento otoño en mi ventana,
si toco
junto al fuego
la impalpable ceniza
o el arrugado cuerpo de la leña,
todo me lleva a ti,
como si todo lo que existe,
aromas, luz, metales,
fueran pequeños barcos que navegan
hacia las islas tuyas que me aguardan.

Ahora bien,
si poco a poco dejas de quererme
dejaré de quererte poco a poco.

Si de pronto
me olvidas
no me busques,
que ya te habré olvidado.

Si consideras largo y loco
el viento de banderas
que pasa por mi vida
y te decides
a dejarme a la orilla
del corazón en que tengo raíces,
piensa
que en ese día,
a esa hora
levantaré los brazos
y saldrán mis raíces
a buscar otra tierra.

Pero
si cada día,
cada hora
sientes que a mí estás destinada
con dulzura implacable.
Si cada día sube
una flor a tus labios a buscarme,
ay amor mío, ay mía,
en mí todo ese fuego se repite,
en mí nada se apaga ni se olvida,
mi amor se nutre de tu amor, amada,
y mientras vivas estará en tus brazos
sin salir de los míos.

Apathy is a distorted form of kindness

The messages were few and far between, the tenderness in his voice has receded. In due course, correspondence was left unanswered, and he was washed away by the swift ebb of time.

She was shrouded in a plethora of doubts. To her mind, it was the most heinous crime of betrayal.

Years into the future, when she finally acquired the wisdom of sages, she had an enlightened awakening. His deeds were certainly no affront to her person, she acknowledged. In some peculiar way, it was a disguised gift of supreme compassion, for there is no offense more wicked than imparting false hopes to a heart which continues to love sightlessly.

*******************************************************************************

A conversation with L. was my inspiration for this

Double celebration

The parental units are celebrating their 33rd (33rd!) wedding anniversary today. That's certainly no small feat. They're in Tagaytay Highlands right now with my two kuyas and their families. The other brothers had an earlier celebration with them last Monday. Sigh. The travails of a big family with weird schedules :-)

Today is also the birthday of one of my dearest friends, Allan. ¡Feliz cumpleaños, macho! You are very much missed. You don't know how much I appreciate your efforts to google-talk with me every once in a while. It has really helped keep loneliness at bay. I'm putting together your dibidees, don't worry...Un abrazo muy fuerte...

Swamped with work!

Currently inundated with academic shite. Between now and the end of June, I have to work on these things:

1. 3 big papers, 1 relatively short proposal and 1 750-word "mini" paper

2. 3 oral presentations

3. 2 killer exams

4. a 3-week intensive internship

To make matters worse, I seemed to have lost my studying mojo. Waaaah! Can't afford to be kicked out of Macq. Help me, God!

Can't sleep...

...too cold. Bad recurring dreams. I wish I can just undergo that procedure in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Out of nowhere, this old Sinatra song starts playing in my head. At 4:18 am.

In the wee small hours of the morning
While the whole wide world is fast asleep
You lie awake and think about the girl
And never ever think of counting sheep

When your lonely heart has learned its lesson
Youd be hers if only she would call
In the wee small hours of the morning
Thats the time you miss her most of all

Memory Differentials

She called him one cold night in winter.

“Hey. How are you?,” he asked in a voice permeating with icy indifference.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“It’s been a while since I last heard from you. So, why’d you call?”

“I just wanted to ask…do you still remember the 4^th of July, in 2005?” Her question was loaded with undertones of hope that somehow, he might still remember.

“What are you talking about?” There was a glaring dryness and annoyance in his timbre.

“Don’t you remember? The fireworks…the slots in the wall ---”

“You called me just to ask if I remember some random night two years ago?” He was visibly irritated.

“Yes…I…I just wanted to ask if you---”

“No, I’m sorry but I don’t recall anything special about that date.” His words sliced like daggers.

“You don’t really remember anything?,” she inquired, in a tone pregnant with sad exasperation.

“4^th of July…independence day, right?”

“Yeah, and they had a fireworks display and we---,”

“Well, I’m really sorry but I don’t recall anything. All I know is that the US Embassy sets off fireworks every year to celebrate independence day. I may have seen some of the 4^th of July fireworks on TV, or when I was a kid or whatever, but two years ago I don’t really remember if I saw them or not. I mean, that was ages ago already”. His voice betrayed such frost. “What’s it to you, anyway?”

At that point in time, it would have meant the world to her if he had even the slightest recollection of that exquisite evening. “But how could he have forgotten?” she thought to herself. It was just about the most resplendent event they had witnessed together. That night, their fingers were interlocked, and her heart rhythmically erupted with affection for the boy in synchrony with each glorious explosion of pyrotechnics in the sky.

Was the boy afflicted with such profound memory loss for him not to have recalled an otherwise significant event? Or could it be selective amnesia? Did he deliberately forget? Or maybe that night might not have been as momentous as she imagined it to be after all. Maybe it was just a night of meaningless noise and drab multi-colored sparklers. Maybe all along she was concocting memories unilaterally. Or did that incident even occur at all?

The girl was still plagued by questions, but she deemed it best to just surrender. Maybe there really was a sliver of truth to the boy’s statements. In the end, she just resolved to create the same memory, in the distant future, with a boy who would remember.

Lonesome Traveller quote

No man should go through life without once experiencing healthy, even bored solitude in the wilderness, finding himself depending solely on himself and thereby learning his true and hidden strength. - Jack Kerouac


My "true and hidden strength". Oooh. Hope I find it soon.

Trees

Chow Mo-wan: In the old days, if someone had a secret they didn't want to share... you know what they did?
Ah Ping: Have no idea.
Chow Mo-wan: They went up a mountain, found a tree, carved a hole in it, and whispered the secret into the hole. Then they covered it with mud. And leave the secret there forever.
Ah Ping: What a pain! I'd just go to get laid.
Chow Mo-wan: Not everyone's like you.

*******************************************************************************

One particularly unforgettable scene from In the Mood for Love was the part where Tony Leung treks all the way to Angkor Wat to confess how fiercely he loved Maggie Cheung to a hole he carved in a solitary tree. He then covered up the hole with mud to protect this fragile secret.

So moving was this scene that it compelled me to make a personal sojourn to Cambodia late last year. While other tourists were traipsing around in more glamorous locales, I was eager to discover the mystique of exotic Angkor Wat. More than anything, I was keenly enthusiastic to take in the sight of hundreds of trees in Siem Reap which guarded a host of ancient secrets.

In this lifetime, a limited few would have the privilege to entrust their most intimate sentiments to other humans. There is an unspoken understanding for the confidante to take these secrets to their grave. But in the course of things, one may lose such human trees. Kindred friends part ways to become trees to other people, while holding on to vestiges of past confessions and revelations. Separately, they bury these shreds of each other's souls in layers of mud and struggle to relegate them to the deep abyss of oblivion, hoping to make way for new secrets.