I do have a thing for making things from scratch: call it the purist in me. If I had my way I would be making my own cheese from milk I squeezed from the cow's udder myself. I dream about that kind of closeness to the source, especially when it comes to food.
Unfortunately, I don't live in Laguna, and I'm not confident that I won't poison myself if I do attempt a long-term fermentation project such as cheese-making. Purist I am, but foolish I am not. At least I'd like to think so. =) Some things, one should just buy from the store. Like cheese perhaps, or wild mushrooms, certainly. The selection of ingredients available in Metro Manila has certainly increased in the recent years, due to the rise of the specialty food shop.
That said, I have no good reason to be making pancetta, aside from curiosity and my compulsive nature. =D
I only loosely call it pancetta, because most recipes call for a whole lot more in terms of the spice rub, juniper berries included. I do not know any purveyors of juniper berries in my area, but a friend did suggest dousing the meat in gin for the flavor. It could work, but I was also afraid that the alcohol in the gin would denature the proteins in the meat, leading to the gray, pasty nilagang baboy look. I like nilagang baboy as much as the next person, but pancetta it is not.
I decided to go for the minimalist version instead, rubbing the meat (I used a kilo of whole pork belly to start with) with copious amounts of salt, pepper and minced garlic. Traditionally, the belly is then tightly rolled into a cigar shape, then hung out to dry. Since I had a mortal fear of food poisoning, I decided to do this drying step in the refrigerator instead. I placed the meat on a rack, so that it was kept off the juices that the salt inevitably leached out by osmosis.
After about three weeks of curing in the refrigerator, I was impatient as hell. I was not really worried about the meat going bad at this point because I added enough salt and garlic to keep off a horde of aswang, much less a few bacteria. Besides, it did smell good: very garlicky and pungent. The cross-section looked about right as well. The meat kept its red color, and the fat remained a creamy white. Though not as dry as commercially-available pancetta, my faux version did not have the raw meat feel: it had the consistency of American bacon when sliced, which was what I was looking for.
The ultimate test, of course, is the taste test.
One classic recipe that uses pancetta is Pasta all'Amatriciana. The sauce is the simplest thing, just tomatoes spiked with a little pancetta. I cooked mine with some sauteed onions, siling labuyo, and a chiffonade of basil on top, just to fancy it up a little.
At this point, I could bombard you with raves on how good the spaghetti was, but you might not believe me. It's one of those no-brainer dishes that almost does not need a recipe (I'll write up one anyway, just for documentation). Eating this pasta is a three step experience: first comes the salt and heat from the pancetta and the red chili, that strong first impression; next comes the mellow umami from the meat itself and the cheese; last comes an almost floral aftertaste, which I suspect is from the basil, but may also be from the pancetta itself.
Overall, its one of those dishes you would want to have on a cold day: spicy, warming and substantial.
( Spaghetti all'Amatriciana )
The ultimate test, of course, is the taste test.
One classic recipe that uses pancetta is Pasta all'Amatriciana. The sauce is the simplest thing, just tomatoes spiked with a little pancetta. I cooked mine with some sauteed onions, siling labuyo, and a chiffonade of basil on top, just to fancy it up a little.
At this point, I could bombard you with raves on how good the spaghetti was, but you might not believe me. It's one of those no-brainer dishes that almost does not need a recipe (I'll write up one anyway, just for documentation). Eating this pasta is a three step experience: first comes the salt and heat from the pancetta and the red chili, that strong first impression; next comes the mellow umami from the meat itself and the cheese; last comes an almost floral aftertaste, which I suspect is from the basil, but may also be from the pancetta itself.
Overall, its one of those dishes you would want to have on a cold day: spicy, warming and substantial.
( Spaghetti all'Amatriciana )
Maria Callas, on the other hand, is a reference that's a little more obscure to the younger set, unless you were weaned on opera, like some children are--part of that old belief that all things classical transmutes babies into geniuses ready to stride out of the womb. I myself grew up in a heady cloud of musty old pop: The Cascades, Neil Sedaka, Nat King Cole, a little Abba. Opera it was not. The lucky fact that I even knew a little about Maria Callas stems from mundane dinner conversation, many years ago. Like most interesting factoids, it was laced with a little scandal: Maria Callas, the great soprano, had an affair with Aristotle Onassis. And Onassis is another one of those sticky names that accrue labels: billionaire, shipping magnate, and of course, Jackie O's husband (As a side note though, Maria Callas came before, not after Jackie. At a glance, it seems like the classic case of a rich old man trading up to a younger model, matrimony-wise.)
It's all a bit sordid, I know, but the human mind seems to want to collect the worst details. That and memorable movie lines.
Of memorable lines, Maria Callas seems to have many attributed to her. "When my enemies stop hissing, I shall know I'm slipping," refers to early hardships establishing her career as an artist in the--pardon the pun--cutthroat world of opera. She was also quoted as saying that comparing her to Tebaldi--another soprano, and supposedly her rival at the time-- was a travesty, like comparing champagne to Coca Cola.
If I may say so...Ang taray! =)
I mean "Ang taray" in the best possible way, of course. But she does look a bit fierce, don't you think?
Fabulous, no doubt, but almost untouchable, a diva even in pictures. Of course, Cherie Gil also has that glorious diva aura about her, a certain steel-rod-down-the-spine quality that one cannot help but respect and even fear, just a little bit.
In a masterful stroke, the universe has conspired to bring these two characters together in a play, the ultimate meet-cute. Cherie Gil plays Maria Callas who, in delirious monologues, is at turns Aristotle Onassis and Giovanni Meneghini (Callas's first husband) as well. It is all deliciously complicated, and scandalous, and brilliantly feathered, as only a true diva's life can be.
The Divas: A coquettish Maria Callas (left) and Cherie Gil (right) playing the iconic soprano in the Terrence McNally play Master Class
A brief backgrounder: The play is set in Juilliard, where Callas taught a master class in opera from 1971 to '72. Aristotle Onassis had just wed Jackie O, leaving Maria Callas just as she had finally severed her marriage to Meneghini. It is tragic all around. In the ultimate ironic twist, shortly after the wedding, Callas got cast as Medea, that archetype of the "woman scorned." Jason of the Argonauts too had traded up. More's the pity.
But that's not what the story is about, not really. It is the tapestry which colors the scene, but it is not the scene itself. The story is about art. And life. Discipline. Devotion. High drama. Fire. Gumption. And above all, how to sing: the sweet desperation, the total loss of self to the character, the whole out-of-body experience.
Gil as Maria Callas (left) admonishing Sharon (right), a Juilliard student, not to act, but to be.
Cherie Gil seems to have an out-of-body experience herself, fully inhabiting the role of the humorous but deadly sharp teacher, one of that rare breed whom you either love or hate as a student, but whom you never forget. The suspension of disbelief is complete: at a glare from those serpentine eyes, you sit a little bit straighter, listen a bit more attentively. She will not repeat herself twice. And no applause please. There is work to be done.
The Callas in Master Class is full of aphorisms:
"To be remembered, you've got to have a look."
"Art is domination."
"Vowels are the inarticulate sounds of the heart. In consonants lie the meaning."
To a student wearing a short skirt, "The public that looks at you from down there sees a little more of you than you might want."
Chiding a student for not bringing a pencil to make notes with: "At the conservatory Madame de Hidalgo never once had to ask me if I had a pencil. And this was during the war, when a pencil wasn't something you just picked up at the five and ten. Oh no, no, no, no. A pencil meant something. It was a choice over something else. You either had a pencil or an orange. I always had a pencil. I never had an orange. And I love oranges. I knew one day I would have all the oranges I could want, but that didn't make the wanting them any less."
Everything is a pronouncement, delivered to the point, and weighty as holy writ.
* * *
Of course, there is that matter of historical correctness: Was this really what Maria Callas was like? General consensus seems to be that McNally did take some liberties with the characterization of Callas. For one, according to accounts, she was not as acerbic as the character in Master Class was. Also, of the quotes above, only the one about the skirt is true.
Makes me feel a bit sad, really. I liked the character a lot (Brava to Cherie Gil for a brilliant and intense performance).
Still, artifice is meant to highlight some greater truth. In this case, I think it is that art as a higher calling can also be a ravenous pit to which you surrender yourself completely. Most of the time, it is worth it. Or is it really?
Of Callas herself, who knows what happened? She died of a heart attack, five years after her Juillard stint. Who knows what she was really thinking? That there are no definite answers means we are all free to draw our own conclusions. The Callas in Master Class is ultimately tragic, plagued by demons of the past. Multiple comparisons are made to Medea the Jilted One.
The real-life Callas seemed cool as a cucumber here in her interview with a younger Barbara Walters.
Callas interview, after the Onassis snafu
Muy elegante, no?
There were also rumors that she was still seeing Aristotle Onassis even during his marriage to Jackie. Another version, that one.
Still, my favorite theory is that she got herself a younger boyfriend, ala Demi Moore. Fanfare and racy scandal are necessary in an ending fitting for La Divina herself. No tears shed over rich old men, please!
* * *
Master Class will run at the Carlos P. Romulo Theater, RCBC Plaza on October 17, 18, 23, 24 and 25, 2008 at 8:00 p.m.
For inquiries please call Philippine Opera Company at 892-8786 or log on to www.philippineoperacompany.com or TicketWorld
[Many thanks to Ms. Lorna Lopez, and Ms. Karla Gutierrez of the Philippine Opera Company, for graciously inviting us to watch Master Class take shape]
Is ignorance ever a positive thing? I know no Italian and I have never seen the Broadway musical Rent. Furthermore, I have never been to an opera in my life. Taking these three things into account, I felt rather ill-prepared to watch La Bohéme—that immortal Puccini opera even plebians like me are aware of. Would I like it, even if it’s in Italian? Will I cry, like those sensitive leading men in romantic comedies? Does it imply something horrible about my psyche if I don’t cry? These and other more serious questions tumbled in and out of my consciousness in the week leading up to Day Zero: the La Bohéme technical dress rehearsal that I managed to wangle an invite to (Many thanks, by the way, to Ms. Lorna Lopez and to Ms. Karla Gutierrez for making this possible, as well as to Director Floy Quintos for being nice enough not to mind the intrusion, and for gamely answering our questions in the open forum).
But one man’s ignorance is another’s tabula rasa, and you could not get any more tabula rasa than I was. So I looked forward to my operatic deflowering with naïve enthusiasm, holding onto my ignorance with a death grip. I figured that I was the acid test: if I managed to enjoy it, even with all those counts against me, then you probably will too. (Also, I have the nagging feeling that I’m one of the five people of my demographic—middle class Filipino, early twenties—who has not seen Rent. I mean, there’s even a movie version, so I have no excuses, really. =D)
So going back to my original point: Did I like it? Even if it was in Italian, and I had no knowledge of the plot, and there were no subtitles to be found anywhere? Even if I was, godammit, an opera virgin and an admittedly ignorant one to boot?
All I can say is, La Bohéme is a gentle way to start, if it’s your first time too.
Let’s start with the music, because taking language out of the equation, your senses are heightened to what you can relate to, which is the score. Signor Puccini did know a thing or two about music, wouldn’t you say?
The orchestral accompaniment is at turns sweeping and grandiose, whimsical and light, and gentle as a breath. But these words mean nothing. I stare at them and they are just adjectives that do not describe. Music is something that must be experienced, as cliché as that may sound. On the merit of the orchestra alone, I would recommend that you see the local production. In this case, it is the Philippine Philharmonic, conducted with painstaking and passionate attention to detail by Helen Quach. I also recommend that you take deep breaths while you listen. The resonance produced by the expansion of the chest cavity seems to enhance the experience. (It’s either that or the increased oxygen making me inordinately happy. The cellists could probably see my silly grin from the orchestra pit.)
Of course, the heart and soul of opera are the singers and their inhuman vocal ranges! =) The opera singers in the local production are revelations, performing over the din of the orchestra without the benefit of a single microphone. I was told by my friend David that sometimes in operas, either the set itself is mic’ed or there’d be an overhead microphone. But no artificial amplification for these artists. You’ve got to admire the cojones of that, right? There were a few odd patches where the orchestra predominated, but on the whole, the cast did a stellar job. I expect they’ll be even better come opening night.
Of the cast we saw, the stand-out performances for me were by Gary del Rosario as Rodolfo and Jennifer Uy as Mimi, although the rest of the singers are extremely good as well. There is a lot to be said for being expressive while doing the intense vocal acrobatics required in opera. And Mimi singing in bed! Wow, don’t even get me started.
But what about the story?
Seeing as I have not “spoiled” myself by reading English translations before watching the opera, I could say that (1) yes, the score does carry you seamlessly through each Act (but the Acts, in relation to each other, have abrupt time jumps), and (2) there are many ways to tell a story aside from actually telling the story.
Firstly, the set is a character in itself, depicting the changes in moods and seasons, and aiding greatly in nonverbal storytelling. Though the production used the original libretto, the setting is greatly different from Puccini’s, transplanted to contemporary Metro Manila. Thus, there is a preponderance of barong-barong, rusty corrugated iron and cyclone wire. It mostly works though. Poverty is timeless. So is love. So is lust. So is death. And so on.
Also, the way the scenes are choreographed makes for easier comprehension of events. Act Two, which all happens in a busy market, is particularly brilliant. However, it gets a little hairier in Acts Three and Four, because the events are more introspective and harder to express through action alone.
That’s why it’s good to watch this with a knowledgeable friend. =) So I cheated a bit.
I also watched with my mouth open half the time. Such is the purpose of the dark.
(La Bohéme will have a limited run from October 3 to 5 at the CCP. Like the proverbial snowflake it is beautiful, unique and short-lived: only three performances. Suportahan po natin ang mga artistang Pilipino. For more information, and to order tickets, visit TicketWorld.)
(disclaimer: this is just a pic I got off Google, but it resembles mine greatly)
The blowtorch was a present from one of my favorite people,
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
crimson_parsley. I'm currently thinking of other uses for it (aside from making the crispy sugar topping over creme brulee). Off the bat, I can think of the following applications:~ giving a smoker friend a light (not my favorite application, as smoking greatly increases lung cancer risk)
~crisping up chicken skin (not sure if this will work without burning)
~self defense and/or arson (very handy for the average woman's handbag! XD)
~general entertainment
I've been using the blowtorch mainly for the last purpose. I'm not really in the mood to cook creme brulee for a household of health-conscious/diabetic family members.
(honestly, turning on the blowtorch just for kicks is really entertaining.)
* * *
Dare I hope that the Metro Manila Filmfest-nominated action movie Banal (as in holy, not "ordinary") is as good as I expect it to be?
Banal
Directed by Cesar Apolinario
Preview: Two cops in a SWAT unit go up against each other over issues of integrity.
Banal is attempting to be a very gritty crime drama akin to last year's The Departed. It has a pretty complex plot that features betrayals, plenty of plot twists, and a plot to assassinate the Pope. It also has Christopher de Leon in it as a tough-as-nails Sergeant who leads the SWAT team. That may be worth the price of admission alone. Expect a scowling Christopher de Leon blowing stuff up.
Teaser: Cris (Paolo Contis) and Jason (Alfred Vargas) are two policemen with opposite personalities and philosophies - Cris is the epitome of the rare, near-extinct breed of honest cops; Jason is the the legman of his district's high officials, doing their dirty work for a price. BANAL explores the heretofore unseen side of police work, stabs at the unscrupulous behavior of the media and shows an uncompromising picture of Philippine society. In today's day and age, angels can become demons,and sinners can become saints
~
For the trailer, watch a movie or just go to youtube. The trailer is pretty decent--not like the usual Pinoy trailer that gives you all of the plot or nothing at all. Just try very hard to ignore the obviously CG explosion at the end, to sustain your suspension of disbelief.
I will definitely watch this movie. If you've talked to me within the past couple of days, I've probably talked your ear off about it too. Poor you.
(movie will be shown starting January 1. Nood na! Suportahan ang pelikulang Pilipino)
* * *
Happy holidays to every all!
(parang Goodah! Pagkaing good for every all! Open 25 hours!)
~three short stories with a kickass theme for NCCA
~two kickass poems for a contest by Meritage
~continuation of our collaborative effort (
luckychan and crimson_parsley): "ze novel"The first two need to be done by December 31. And did I mention that they have to kick ass?
* * *
Suportahan ang mga bagong manunulat ~ehem ako ehem~! Bumili na ng mga sumusunod na aklat (pwedeng ipangregalo, ohohoho):
First Love (Cozy Reads Publishing) - short story antho edited by Faye Ilogon, about first love, of course. Maganda na ang laman, maganda pa ang papel, hehe. The book contains ten short stories by various authors (including
luckychan and myself).Very Short Stories for Harried Readers (Milflores Publishing) - flash fiction antho edited by Vince Groyon. It contains a mix of stories from both renowned and, ehem, "youthful" writers. :) The book contains 41 short shorts that range from 500 to 1000 words, I think. Do buy if you're a fan of any of the following people:
Anna Felicia C. Sanchez, Sandra Nicole Roldan, Rodrigo V. Dela Peña Jr., Prospero E. Pulma Jr., Francezca C. Kwe, Lawrence L. Ypil, Sharmaine Galve, Raymund P. Reyes, Flori Maximo, Catherine Candano, Pam Punzalan, Ayn Frances dela Cruz, Christian Tablazon, Ana Maria S. Villanueva, Libay Linsangan Cantor, Andrea Pasion, Cecille La Verne de la Cruz, Daryll Delgado, Anne Lagamayo, Jamina Jugo, Karen Manalastas, O. Bryan Alvarez, Danton Remoto, Jhoanna Lynn B. Cruz, Bj A. Patiño, Joshua L. Lim So, John Bengan, Carljoe Javier, Jose Claudio B. Guerrero, Mark Ponce, Timothy Montes, Faye Ilogon, Apol Lejano-Massebieau, Jerome Chua, Vicente Garcia Groyon, Jean Claire A. Dy, Celeste Flores-Coscolluela, Anna Chua, Irwin Allen B. Rivera, Paul S. de Guzman, and Eliza A. Victoria.
~end shameless plug
Forgive me if my words do not go
the distance—
we walk along the shore
night: your face in shadow
in the imprints we leave, dying
fish nestle, mouths opening
and closing in the cold
they gleam like silver
coins, the shore’s small
change, hurled back by the sea
Your shoulder beads with ocean spray
Hay.
One of my students threw a ballpen at his classmate today. It seemed good-natured enough, but I was really disturbed afterwards. I felt taken advantage of. My co-workers later told me that I was probably too nice. That can be remedied, hehehehe. (puts on iron fist prosthetic)
Grrraahhh. I want to stop worrying, but the feeling comes whether I will it to or not. One important thing I learned from this job, however, is that these feelings always go away after a while. This too shall pass. Good mantra.
* * *
Off to work on a Sunday! Babu!
I know, I know, that line's pretty old. An oldie but goodie though. Which made me think of other jeepney literary classics. For instance, have you noticed that new type of jeepney poetry? Like haikus, they're short and sweet, each line painted on a small wood plank. Whole verses would hang from hooks on the ceiling behind the driver's and passenger's seats. They swayed each time the jeep sped up or stopped. Here's an example:
"Kunin mo ang puso ko" -> that's on the first plank
"pati na ang katawan ko" -> this one on the second plank, which hangs from the first.
"huwag lang"
"ang kita ko"
Again, hwekwekwekwek. But isn't it amazing that a new poetry form could emerge from our humble jeepney? Of course the topics are limited to sex, income, and nonpayers-being-thrown-into-the-flames-o
It's a cultural phenomenon, not limited to the jeepney. We Filipinos are, as a rule, fond of witticisms. We like collecting quotes, song lyrics, acronyms. We hoard these in our minds, where they gather in the corners like dustballs. Like, do you remember the country acronyms we used to use in letters and slumbooks back in grade school? Like ITALY (I trust and love you!), JAPAN (Just always pray at night!). Heh. Actually, those are the only ones I remember. I didn't actually get into that whole bandwagon, just like i didn't get into the stationery and sticker collecting phase that everyone else seemed to go through. But that's a whole other entry.
Just recently
crimson_parsley told me what PHILIPPINES meant.P -umping
H -ot
I
L-ike
I-t
P -lease
P -lease
I
N-eed
E-rotic
S-timulation!
Heh. No wonder I didn't know this in grade school. Not GP at all. =p
And everyone seems to have their favorite quote. Like that overused chestnut "It's better to have loved and lost...yada yada...". Or "There's nothing to fear but fear itself." Or, for the Noranians, "My brother is not a pig!" (i prefer the porcine one myself)
It's also pretty standard to ask for a person's favorite motto in noontime show beauty pageants and (again) slumbooks. "Time is gold," "a rolling stone gathers no moss," "a stitch in time saves nine," "ang batang mabait, napupunta sa langit," ad infinitum (and ad nauseum). My own favorite answers to the "What is your favorite motto?" question came from an old beauty pageant in Eat Bulaga (i think it was called TeeVee babes).
Vic Sotto: (asks contestant): What is your favorite motto?
Contestant: Ajinomoto
(insert eternal embarrassment here)
and another one:
Vic Sotto: (asks contestant): What is your favorite motto?
Contestant: Melanie Marquez.
(huwaaaat????)
But of all the quotable quotes that I've ever encountered, the one that takes the cake is a line from
luckychan's brother JT's secret admirer. They never found out who wrote the unsigned note. Whoever you are, though, know that you have been immortalized in quote history.Here it is:
"You are like the air to my balloon,
without you, I cannot fly..."
A classic, I tell you. A classic.
* * *
In other news:
~Karen has attempted to be GTK (Great Teacher Karen), in a teaching demo which she performed yesterday
~Tala, Mayumi, Eric and Caloy, are received by Maria Makiling. I have no idea exactly what they're talking about. They're conversing in low tones, and they won't allow me (or Kulas the kapre, who has been tailing them) to hear what they're saying. (intrigued? read our upcoming novel! <--shameless and premature plug)
~those school shootings are insane...
over and out.
"Heartbreak", a book of short stories written by Filipinos on the subject of, you guessed it, heartbreak, is now available on National book store (at least
luckychan and I saw it on National Katipunan. She bought a copy. As for me, I've had lots of practice saying "no" to myself.) Looking at the book from a purely physical standpoint--the cover design, the paper, and the font, which were all I was able to assess, really--I'd say it's a good buy. The paper was thick and of good quality, the font did not look "jologs", and the cover was designed well and laminated with matte plastic (Yeah, yeah, I really like books with matte covers. You just want to rub your cheek against them. Ahh, book love...)As for the all important content, Les says the stories are written well. I'd have to borrow the book from her to confirm that...ehem.
I hope the book sells well, though. That would give writers more opportunities to get their work out there...double ehem.
A, tama na nga 'to.
* * *
I myself, am a secondhand book junkie. I seem to have pretty good luck with Booksale branches too. Recently, I bought Madeleine L'engle's "A Wrinkle in Time" for 20 pesos, and Isaac Asimov's "Foundation" for a whopping 30 pesos. Both books were in pretty good condition too, and both are the first ones in their respective series.
* * *
I feel strangely blank.
------------------------------------
Fill in the blank...
ha! that sounded strangely cheesy. Like something you'd say to your lover. "Fill in my blank." XD it sounds just a bit wrong too.
"You complete me."
gag.
Enough, enough of this. XD
Rhea, Jerc and I watched it last saturday. We had lunch in TemptAsian. Then we burned everything off at an arcade game called "Final Furlong". Guys, ito yung horse racing na game sa Timezone. Grabeh, nakakapagod, very physical. They should put the damn machine in gyms; they'd make a killing.
* * *
Films. We're writing a film script for the CinemaOne contest. I'm burned out from trying to be creative for hours on end. Now I can only think in stark Hemingway-esque prose. Declarative sentences: I am tired. My neck hurts. I want to rest, but I still need to prepare kefir. Kefir is a health drink I ferment everyday for my parents. It's made from milk, and tastes like creamy vinegar.
This is what you do for love.
It's a bit of an adjustment, working on a creative thing with new people. By new, I mean not the gorgeous and talented writers in dormant muses. Tougher. And full of compromise, iba iba kasi ang creative vision nyo.
Worn out. Tired. Squeezed dry. (But not dry enough to run out of rants. Which brings me to my newly formulated theory that hope isn't the last thing to survive in the face of adversity; rants are).
Bye for now.
SHAMELESS PLUG
If you want good, secondhand books...
or caramel-encrusted mini fruit tarts...
or orginal music cds at half the price...
wala lang. let me know, i might have something for you.
Getting rid of some personal possessions is especially painful, almost like an amputation. My personal purging experience involved some difficult decision making. What was worth keeping? Which could be let go?
***
The problem with being a freelancer is you do a lot of work, but people still think you're not busy. ^_^; and so, you get more work.
So now, I'm using lj to procrastinate. hahaha.
Yellow was better on the eyes, i tell you. At least then, I could see the red suits in Free Cell (previously my method of avoiding work, before this red monitor fiasco. I kept rationalizing that at least Free Cell was the most intellectual of the Microsoft Windows card games--Bridge is, of course, more intellectual--and that I was developing my analytical skills by playing it. Now I can neither play, nor rationalize--two of my favorite activities).
***
Davao was fun. Once more, we proved that Filipinos are always eager to give commuting advice. Anyway, it's infinitely more fun to ride on cheap public transport--jeepney, pedicab--than to take a boring old cab. More local flavor that way. But no more riding shotgun on a motorcycle this time, like I did in Bohol with Mr. Chua: we were speeding through the drizzle, the raindrops sharp and cold as needles against our faces. I tried not to hold the driver's shoulders in a death grip. I was laughing and shouting all the way. That was fun.
Never say yes to tour buses. Those are expensive, and you won't get lost, which is sometimes fun as long as you like who you're with.
Also: "Beware of falling durian." Masakit yun.
***
On the personal life/job front: I have one already. Sort of. A job, i mean. I'm doing my internship at World Health Organization in Tayuman. Tungkol sa malaria pa rin, if you can believe my luck (although it involves policy writing, no lab work. I like it though). On my first day (which was the same day as Game 3 of the UAAP season 69 finals), I nearly took the wrong train AND I got lost inside the DOH compound--my first day geographical mishaps. On my way home, a contingent of yellow shirts got on the train at Legarda station, and got off at Cubao.
***
Hoy Miss Lucas! May parlor day tayo di ba? LOL, how gay. (Ang lamboht! Parang nagpa-salohn!)
- Music:Fleming and John - Ugly Girl
Why was the billboard climber such an oddity? Maybe he just liked heights-- he was, how do you say it? Acrophilic? Or maybe he wanted to be left alone, so he could think. Maybe there was less air pollution up there. Who knows? What I did find funny was that people automatically assumed that he was disturbed and suicidal. Why is that?
Me, I get a kick out of trains. I find the motion, and the ecumenical anonymity, conducive to a state of peaceful blankness. If I never got off the train though, people would probably think I'm nuts too. Sometimes though, when stress makes me particularly escapist, I wish the "train state of mind" would never leave me: pleasantly cool, not tired or hungry or happy or sad or particularly reflective, neither here nor there. Just cruising.
P.S. When they finally got mr. billboard climber down from his perch, he said (before fainting dramatically before the news cameras): "May problema ako sa ate ko..." Anong problema? asked GMA-7, ABS-CBN, and RPN9, their bulbous microphones almost against his mouth. "Malaki," he said, before passing out on the stretcher. For those who like to predict human behavior, you can breathe a sigh of relief now. He WAS disturbed.
P.P.S I wonder how much they pay train drivers. Would they hire me if I applied? Probably not, but i can promise you better diction over the train speakers if ever.
P.P.P.S. Wish me luck! I'll need it.
This left us totally perplexed. Dad, being a rather thoughtful person, went to Mr. Mendoza to deliver the misdirected piece of mail. Dad then clarified that the lot numbers for our street were assigned to have a logic to them (Odd numbers on the left, even on the right side of the road), TWENTY years ago (which was around the time we started living here). The man who received the mail, however, was convinced that they were right in using number 7, and WE were actually number 7C. Imagine, sila ay nakatira sa isang apartment building constructed fairly recently, and located further down the road (which logically means that their house number would be higher than ours), but they're insisting that WE had the wrong address. What? Pwede bang basta basta na lang humugot ka ng address just because you don't like yours? (if the system were followed, they would be on lot #13 kasi) My sister and I suspect that they're stealing our address because of superstitious reasons (the dreaded number 13). Is it right to live your life--and steal other people's addresses--based on superstition? Grabe, it would be funny if it weren't so juvenile.
* * *
Still no job. Kristina's sojourn to Australia (as migrant bear, she has moved south) has inspired people, I think, to reflect on their own futures. Mine is not exactly so peachy (refer to previous posts on the difficulty of finding employment and the nature of despair), but I see something up ahead. I think it's a thin sliver of light, but it just might be a piece of lint on the windshield.
Anyway, I'm putting most of my hopes and energies into getting into grad school, and writing a manuscript for Maam CTV. Mostly hopes. I am daunted by the sheer amount of work left to do to write something worthy of publication. I hope i am equal to the task, me with my rusty brain recently awakened from hibernation. This whole week is going to be busy, busy, busy. (incidentally, Jeric consoled me with the thought that if I HAD gotten hired, I wouldn't have enough time to finish the manuscript. Thank God for small blessings).
* * *
I recently unearthed an unfinished poem from between the pages of my copy of "The molecular biology of the cell" by Alberts. It still seems new to me.
And all the people who have duplicate keys are out of the country!!!
Grahh! Nice going Karen.
If I were Magneto, i wouldn't have this problem. wala lang.
***
Pink guested on Oprah the other night (yes, I have taken to watching Oprah now, but only because my sleep-wake cycle has shifted a few hours, and we don't have cable TV). Oprah asks Pink what her definition of "stupid" was. Pink said, very seriously, that to be stupid was to "constantly try to be something that you're not". Of course, this answer goes well with the episode's entire woman-empowering, "stop the who's-the-skankiest-bitch contest", "women are not sex objects" theme.
If Pink says to be stupid is to "constantly try to be something that you're not", I have a different definition. I say, to be stupid is to be ignorant of how much you don't know. Trying to seem like an expert at something that you know nothing about, something that you don't have information on, something that you don't have the faculty to see, and worst of all, something that you refuse to see..to try to sound knowledgeable when you don't know shit, you don't have data, your perception is skewed...that to me is the worst kind of stupidity. Particularly irksome are people who like to hurl complaints by default, no matter what the conditions actually are. I dislike people who think that constantly complaining will make them look like they know more than they do. Just take a look at many of our politicians.
It's extremely disappointing to know how trendy complaining--especially about the government--has become. All destruction and no creation. Could people just shut up and think about what they can do for this country, instead of poking holes in the ship?
(Sorry. Nanood kasi ako ng Debate kagabi. Iba na talaga ang nocturnal.)
Also included in my definition of stupid are people who lock themselves out of their rooms. hay.
***
- Mood:
aggravated
I've been told to just enjoy this period of leisure--by Jeric, who has temporarily found his niche in the tense corporate world-- so, I'm enjoying it. Since I have a lot of time, I'm indulging in activities that people--people with jobs--often claim to have no time for: catching up on my reading, watching movies on DVD, baking, exercising, the works. My nest egg from DOST hasn't dried up yet, so I don't feel like a completely worthless sponge. When it does, though, I'll take that as a big, glowing neon sign that says "IT'S TIME TO BE A CALL CENTER AGENT!"
...
Honestly, i do have plans, but it's this waiting that gets to me.
***
I went to the DOST job fair today, at Bahay ng Alumni. As expected/dreaded, a molecular biology graduate is a white elephant. The Petron HR girl asked me why I chose to study MBB, and I replied, "gusto ko kasi". Still, one's dedication is probably severely tested if one is starving -- which I am not, as my parents are kind enough to keep me at the moment. The HR girl, incidentally, is a psych grad who wanted to do med, but ended up in the corporate world instead (looking after the mental health of stressed salarymen) due to lack of funds for med school tuition. I guess there are trade-offs for everyone: hers was money vs. dream, mine is accommodation into the status quo (by taking a job not related to MBB) vs. dream (doing work in my field, in my country) vs. leaving the country, versus who knows what else. Tough. You can write volumes off your own, and other people's, existential angst.
***
The calendar of quotes yielded this one today, from Mother Teresa:
"I know God will not give me anything I cannot handle. I just wish he didn't trust me so much."
made me smile. hope it worked for you too.
Ate Josie talks of the folk belief that lightning combined with rain causes mushrooms to sprout from the ground--that old theory of spontaneous generation. She beams like a child as she presents me with her harvest. I tell her to be careful of the mushrooms.
Later, she tells me that she would not eat the mushrooms either. She has been gone too long from Bicol, her home province, and has forgotten the secrets of the earth.
***
A lone buoy bobbing on the sea. The sea: a mass of giant waves, rendered molten steel by a brief flash of lightning. The buoy doesn't mind (the buoy has no mind)
***
Mabuhay ang panitikang Pilipino!
(the same thing, in English)
A Filipino writer that I admire has put up her own publishing house. They are currently accepting stories based on, or derived from, "noli me Tangere" and/or "El filibusterismo". Submitted stories may be written in English or Filipino. If chosen, your story will be published in an anthology of works inspired by the Noli and Fili.
Long live Philippine literature!
For additional details (para sa karagdagang kaalaman):
http://www.quatre-gats.com/
***
A fragment of the story that i will be submitting for this (see above):
( Read more... )
***
***
Good cop, bad cop
Maganda ang libro ng tito ni Leslie (na--dahil sa kanyang angking talino--ay tinatawag ko nang Gamalinda-sama sa isip ko). Hindi naman ako na-depress sa kwento. "No good books are depressing. All bad books are."
Maganda ang pilates video na binili ko kasama ni Kristina (Paner). Ngunit walang panananalig si itay dito: ika nya, di sya naniniwalang ang ehersisyo habang nakahiga ay nakakapagod. Di bale, hindi naman para sa kanya ang video. Kaya biniro ko na lang siya at sinabing may ehersisyo naman ako bukod sa pilates: aerobic eating (nguya nguya lunok, pagbubuhat ng plato at mga kubiyertos) and drinking (buhat baso, tungga tungga).
Pangit ang pakiramdam ng walang trabaho (walang silbi, walang pera). Baka katayin na ako ng mga magulang ko, para lang ipangtustos sa pang-araw araw na pagkain sa bahay. Pero hindi mangyayari yun. Bakit? Dahil vegetarian sila.
Pangit na ang buhok ko (oo, baka matagal na itong totoo, pero ang kaso, kahit ako nakakapansin nang pangit ito). Gusto ko nang magpagupit.
Masarap mabuhay, ngunit mahirap mag-isip, lalo na kung para sa sarili.
Hanggang sa susunod, kaibigan.
***
I repeat: Choking, i-download mo na ang Yakitate! Chop chop!
Refused job offer from Smart: i refuse to be underemployed in all possible ways! (get this: ang sahod ay four digits at gross pa lang yun! Eww! Gross!)
Seeing the benefits in being unemployed and for the moment, uncommitted to any course of action: for one you have a lot of time. also you can consider steering your life in all sorts of directions, as mundane or as crazy as you like.
There are some things about yourself that you can't change. Me, I'm very forgetful by nature, and I don't hold on to many things for long. This is a mixed blessing.
I haven't written anything substantial during this idle spell, but I've read a lot. I could finish off one paperback a day. I'm also reading Yakitate Japan (sa wakas), and I must say: Ang OA nila tuwing nakakatikim ng tinapay!
In the spirit of Yakitate and entrepreneurship, I baked my first batch of brownies from scratch yesterday (brownies are not bread exactly, pero pwede na yun!). They're okay, but not excellent enough to sell yet. Resolutions: buy better quality chocolate, add more walnuts.
I'm spending like crazy on meals and movie tickets!
I finally tried the drum set thingie at timezone. ~huge smile~ The first time, I blew twenty pesos because I couldn't get the timing right. I did a little better the second time (nakaabot pa ko dun sa pangatlong kanta, woohoo)
Can someone find me an instrumental version of "Said I Loved you But I Lied"? I need it for one of those crazy things (see above).
I still want to write the next Filipino epic, and I still want to put up my company in the future. These are not exactly unique dreams, but they're mine.
The Yuchengco Group of Companies has filed a libel suit against a group of parents, for defamatory content in their blogs. This is the first libel case against bloggers in the Philippines.
