It's that last month of the year. When thinking of "the end" naturally comes to anyone, and "new beginnings" to a lucky few. These next few weeks mark celebrations for me and my friends, my family. A time when remembering is a virtue.
In the spirit of remembering (and of course, in trying to be more diligent on blog posts), I am launching the "Top-Ten Daily Blog Posts." Each day of December, I will post a non-consequential, irrelevant, irreverent (to an extent), witty (i hope so), and personal (it's my life!) list of "Top Ten's" of my year.
Maybe you'll learn something about me from my lists. Maybe I'll learn something about myself. But great scott -- I do hope we'll all laugh and smile about it.
December 1: TOP TEN DISHES I COOKED or BAKED
(in order of my favorite to EAT):
1) Sweet-style Filipino Spaghetti
>> Literally no one who has tasted this has EVER eaten only one serving.
2) Vegetable and Shrimp Tempura
>> If I can't make my own sushi, I'll settle for tempura
3) Pork Giniling (Ground Pork) in Tomato sauce
>> It baffles me how can little pieces of meat be soo sinful?
4) Sweet & Sour Pork
5) Inihaw na Bangus
>> There has to be a grilled dish somewhere in the top ten
6) Thai Green Curry Chicken
>> Why settle for restaurant-style, when I can cook it in my kitchen?
7) Chinese Chop suey
>> A lot more vegetables, a little less fatty meat
8) Cookies!
>> Life has improved ever since I discovered my microwave can bake
9) Filipino Kare-Kare (Oxtail & vegetable curry)
>> For a taste of a sophisticated filipino dish
10) Indian Vegetarian Samosas
>> It is such an interesting conversation piece when I mention I made them from scratch.
Saturday, December 1
Tuesday, November 13
Christmas time is upon us
In my culture, I'm actually already a month and a half late. Christmas cheer would have been strong and alive in my old neighborhood by mid October.
But here, in a land miles away from family and many friends... me and my flatmates had our annual "put up the Christmas tree and ornaments."
"And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow,
stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so?
It came without ribbons. It came without tags.
It came without packages, boxes or bags.
And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.
What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.
What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more."
But here, in a land miles away from family and many friends... me and my flatmates had our annual "put up the Christmas tree and ornaments."
"And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow,
stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so?
It came without ribbons. It came without tags.
It came without packages, boxes or bags.
And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.
What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.
What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more."
-- Dr. Seuss
Monday, November 5
Attack of the nostalgic memories
I was reading a recently bought fantasy book series -- The Wheel of Time -- when I suddenly got hit by a wave of childhood memories. The book didn't do it. The page I was reading was about the protagonist being chased by 'minions of the Dark One' etc, etc. But surprisingly, I just started to think about home and life at the age of seven.
I can't recall the last time I thought that much about my childhood.
Until I was in mid-teens, I grew up in a 'barangay' -- a place which isn't a secluded subdivision or something with a homeowners association (think Desperate Housewives). It was a place where kids played on the street, where every other street light was broken, and where at night every five houses had a sari-sari (HFS) store.
I remember the two-floor apartment I grew up in, with my parents and my two siblings. How we all shared one room. Also, that we had sublet the next room for a few years to young adults who were working (our barangay was very close to the main business district).
I remember getting chicken pox / measles, and how I was bedridden for a month. That's when I bonded with my Gameboy console.
A policeman and his family occupied the apartment next to us. I remember being scared of him. It didn't help that he kept two large black dogs as pets - larger than I was at 7 years old. They always barked at me from their cage.
I had a crush on the girl two apartments down. It didn't matter that she was 3 years older than me. I always tried to visit their house on the pre-text of playing games with her younger brother (who was the same age as me). I grew out of the crush many years later.
The farthest apartment on our row belonged to an old grandfather and his wife. I was scared of them the most. I think I never once visited their apartment.
I always frequented the small local parish church at the corner of our street. With its untended garden, quiet afternoons, and old pews. 'Sunday' mass was always celebrated as a saturday evening anticipated mass.
There was this huge bakery 2 street corners away. It was always worth it to walk there every afternoon to buy a 'pan de sal' (spanish bread) or egg pie (soft cream pie made out of milk+eggs) for afternoon snack. It helped that across the street was a mega sari-sari (HFS) store that stocked all kinds of snacks and sweets.
On the next street parallel to ours was a government-run public elementary school. There was this small 'school supplies' shop beside it that I frequented at late nights when I needed to buy something for school the next day. Cartolina. Manila papers. Marker pens. Bond papers. Coloring materials.
Five streets away was this video rental store -- back when Betamax was still the norm. I remember borrowing a Betamax tape of 'An American Tail,' and having to buy a new copy for the storeowner four months later. Apparently, I broke the tape by watching it many, many, many times over.
Our street wasn't flat -- it was a 300meter stretch on a slanted uphill slope. Our apartment was at the bottom. At the top was this huge overgrowth of gumamela flowers. They were the only flowers I saw on our street.
I grew up on Sampaguita street since I was two years old. We moved when I was fifteen.
I can't recall the last time I thought that much about my childhood.
Until I was in mid-teens, I grew up in a 'barangay' -- a place which isn't a secluded subdivision or something with a homeowners association (think Desperate Housewives). It was a place where kids played on the street, where every other street light was broken, and where at night every five houses had a sari-sari (HFS) store.
I remember the two-floor apartment I grew up in, with my parents and my two siblings. How we all shared one room. Also, that we had sublet the next room for a few years to young adults who were working (our barangay was very close to the main business district).
I remember getting chicken pox / measles, and how I was bedridden for a month. That's when I bonded with my Gameboy console.
A policeman and his family occupied the apartment next to us. I remember being scared of him. It didn't help that he kept two large black dogs as pets - larger than I was at 7 years old. They always barked at me from their cage.
I had a crush on the girl two apartments down. It didn't matter that she was 3 years older than me. I always tried to visit their house on the pre-text of playing games with her younger brother (who was the same age as me). I grew out of the crush many years later.
The farthest apartment on our row belonged to an old grandfather and his wife. I was scared of them the most. I think I never once visited their apartment.
I always frequented the small local parish church at the corner of our street. With its untended garden, quiet afternoons, and old pews. 'Sunday' mass was always celebrated as a saturday evening anticipated mass.
There was this huge bakery 2 street corners away. It was always worth it to walk there every afternoon to buy a 'pan de sal' (spanish bread) or egg pie (soft cream pie made out of milk+eggs) for afternoon snack. It helped that across the street was a mega sari-sari (HFS) store that stocked all kinds of snacks and sweets.
On the next street parallel to ours was a government-run public elementary school. There was this small 'school supplies' shop beside it that I frequented at late nights when I needed to buy something for school the next day. Cartolina. Manila papers. Marker pens. Bond papers. Coloring materials.
Five streets away was this video rental store -- back when Betamax was still the norm. I remember borrowing a Betamax tape of 'An American Tail,' and having to buy a new copy for the storeowner four months later. Apparently, I broke the tape by watching it many, many, many times over.
Our street wasn't flat -- it was a 300meter stretch on a slanted uphill slope. Our apartment was at the bottom. At the top was this huge overgrowth of gumamela flowers. They were the only flowers I saw on our street.
I grew up on Sampaguita street since I was two years old. We moved when I was fifteen.
Saturday, October 20
Interrupting our regularly scheduled debate... for a "fun fact"
I wanted to keep the debate post up for a few days... to let visitors leave their thoughts. But urgent news has just come in, and I must bear them out to all those who visit my blog.
JK Rowling has just admitted, in an auditorium full of children in New York, that her created character Albus Dumbledore is gay (homosexual, not they happy/jolly 'gay').
Check out the BBC News Link:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/7053982.stm
If you want to leave a comment about this, instead of the debate. Feel obliged. :)
Friday, October 19
Fantasy/Science Fiction: creative 'escapism' or insightful 'literature'
Reading the blog of a favorite author of mine (a fantasy writer), I came upon this question.
It reminded me of one of my stronger preferences in reading. Many books on my shelf that are fully read are works by Gaiman, Rothfuss, Adams, Rowling, Snicket (Handler), Tolkien, and Card, among others. Some half-read books remain -- two physics books by Stephen Hawking, a handful of economist and development books, politics & current affairs, plus a couple of G.G.Marquez's.
It is a preference I have not seen many others around me share. And something I have not questioned often, if at all. But being interested in argument and debate, it has merit to be discussed. To not just take an opinion of, but to know what drives that opinion.
I submit then this question for debate -- are works of fantasy or science fiction mostly creative 'escapism', or do they represent part of our history's insightful 'literature'?
To give examples of these works - not limited to written form -- turn to popular culture... the Star Trek or Star Wars series, Harry Potter, tv shows like 'Battlestar Galactica' or 'Babylon 5', the Lord of the Rings, hundreds of paperback novels with illustrations of non-human facial features on the cover, comics / graphic novels, Spiderman, Batman, Superman... ad infinitum.
The argument is not that these works do not have intrinsic value. I think most of us agree they have value. For entertainment, definitely. For some immediate emotional release - humour maybe, or tension-release. Hardly anyone would argue that the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy was not enjoyable.
Enjoyment aside, the question is... do these works add enlightenment and improve the human condition, like many generously praised mainstream literary works do?
I invite anyone who reads this to post a few thoughts by replying to this post.
An opinion, strung from a few phrases, would be generous. An insight into what my friends, or even complete strangers think, is mostly my gain.
I would share my own opinion in my next post.
Your thoughts, Messrs and Mses?
P.S. Procrastinator's Hour, Day#3 spent on 3 1/2 chapters of "The Island of the Day Before"
It reminded me of one of my stronger preferences in reading. Many books on my shelf that are fully read are works by Gaiman, Rothfuss, Adams, Rowling, Snicket (Handler), Tolkien, and Card, among others. Some half-read books remain -- two physics books by Stephen Hawking, a handful of economist and development books, politics & current affairs, plus a couple of G.G.Marquez's.
It is a preference I have not seen many others around me share. And something I have not questioned often, if at all. But being interested in argument and debate, it has merit to be discussed. To not just take an opinion of, but to know what drives that opinion.
I submit then this question for debate -- are works of fantasy or science fiction mostly creative 'escapism', or do they represent part of our history's insightful 'literature'?
To give examples of these works - not limited to written form -- turn to popular culture... the Star Trek or Star Wars series, Harry Potter, tv shows like 'Battlestar Galactica' or 'Babylon 5', the Lord of the Rings, hundreds of paperback novels with illustrations of non-human facial features on the cover, comics / graphic novels, Spiderman, Batman, Superman... ad infinitum.
The argument is not that these works do not have intrinsic value. I think most of us agree they have value. For entertainment, definitely. For some immediate emotional release - humour maybe, or tension-release. Hardly anyone would argue that the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy was not enjoyable.
Enjoyment aside, the question is... do these works add enlightenment and improve the human condition, like many generously praised mainstream literary works do?
I invite anyone who reads this to post a few thoughts by replying to this post.
An opinion, strung from a few phrases, would be generous. An insight into what my friends, or even complete strangers think, is mostly my gain.
I would share my own opinion in my next post.
Your thoughts, Messrs and Mses?
P.S. Procrastinator's Hour, Day#3 spent on 3 1/2 chapters of "The Island of the Day Before"
Thursday, October 18
Productivity
Procrastinator's Hour, Day 2.
Four and a half chapters of an unfinished book -- The Island of the Day Before.
Four and a half chapters of an unfinished book -- The Island of the Day Before.
Tuesday, October 16
The procrastinator's hour
One of the greatest burdens I've carried is a seemingly natural tendency to procrastinate. It's my addiction -- my alcohol, my cocaine, my vice. I either find it extremely hard to admit, hence fooling myself that I'm productive, or extremely easy to dismiss, hence not understanding how it rots inside of me.
Of the many books I own and bought, over half have not been read through.
A few that have, I haven't finished beyond chapter 5.
I love cooking new dishes on weekends. Always a new asian dish every time. However, frozen left-overs litter my fridge, all the way from 3 weeks ago.
I've become interested in starting half a dozen hobbies in the past 3 months alone - guitar playing, amateur photography, blogging, updating my "net 2.0" accounts. I've got the guitar, the camera, the blog, and a reliable internet connection. The strength to see it through? Oops. Forgot that.
Not to mention what happens at work.
It is easy to get caught up 'seemingly busy', with a life full of distractions and to do's. The art of choosing and following through is never taught in the classroom. Frost is lucky he chose a road at all, well traveled or not. My sin is being stuck at the crossings.
It takes an equally insane idea to remedy and equally tough habit. I am starting a 'Procrastinator's Hour' -- 10:00pm to 11:00pm every night. The rule: I am obligated to do something during this hour that I have put off in the past. Begin a book. Finish a book. Practice the guitar. Do that exercise I skipped in the morning. Anything I had previously said I had no time to do.
DAY#1 (Today): Begin blogging again.
Of the many books I own and bought, over half have not been read through.
A few that have, I haven't finished beyond chapter 5.
I love cooking new dishes on weekends. Always a new asian dish every time. However, frozen left-overs litter my fridge, all the way from 3 weeks ago.
I've become interested in starting half a dozen hobbies in the past 3 months alone - guitar playing, amateur photography, blogging, updating my "net 2.0" accounts. I've got the guitar, the camera, the blog, and a reliable internet connection. The strength to see it through? Oops. Forgot that.
Not to mention what happens at work.
It is easy to get caught up 'seemingly busy', with a life full of distractions and to do's. The art of choosing and following through is never taught in the classroom. Frost is lucky he chose a road at all, well traveled or not. My sin is being stuck at the crossings.
It takes an equally insane idea to remedy and equally tough habit. I am starting a 'Procrastinator's Hour' -- 10:00pm to 11:00pm every night. The rule: I am obligated to do something during this hour that I have put off in the past. Begin a book. Finish a book. Practice the guitar. Do that exercise I skipped in the morning. Anything I had previously said I had no time to do.
DAY#1 (Today): Begin blogging again.
Friday, October 12
Awesome picture #1
I've been procrastinating for a while now on blogging. But I'll probably be up and running again by the weekend.
For now, I'd like to introduce a new type of post -- the "AWESOME" picture blog post. Any picture I think is uber unique and just tugs at my heart and makes me love this life just so much more -- I will label as the "AWESOME" picture of the week, and put it up here.
So, for AWESOME PICTURE #1... a sad panda.
For now, I'd like to introduce a new type of post -- the "AWESOME" picture blog post. Any picture I think is uber unique and just tugs at my heart and makes me love this life just so much more -- I will label as the "AWESOME" picture of the week, and put it up here.
So, for AWESOME PICTURE #1... a sad panda.
Sunday, September 30
Back after a 2 week junket
Just wanted to break the silence once more.
I've been away for a little over 2 weeks now, burning the midnight oil in faraway lands. And I couldn't really afford the time to put up blog posts while traveling.
Just arrived back home last night. Everything seems to be returning to normal. Which means some blog posts in the next few days. :)
I've been away for a little over 2 weeks now, burning the midnight oil in faraway lands. And I couldn't really afford the time to put up blog posts while traveling.
Just arrived back home last night. Everything seems to be returning to normal. Which means some blog posts in the next few days. :)
Sunday, September 16
Retrospective Post #1: The grouches will pull you down
*I found this document somewhere in my archived folders. I didn't write it, but I recall copying it down or being given a copy of it almost... more than 5 years ago. I found it meaningful then, and still do now. Even though it is *not* my writing... do enjoy listening to the music of these words.*
N.B. Retrospective posts are about 'written stuff' I've created or gathered well before this blog. Perhaps by looking into the past, we can glimpse why I am here today.
============================
Too many people put off something that brings them joy just because they haven't thought about it, don't have it on their schedule, didn't know it was coming or are too rigid to depart from their routine. I got to thinking one day about all those women on the Titanic who passed up dessert at dinner that fateful night in an effort to cut back. From then on, I've tried to be a little more flexible. How many women out there will eat at home because their husband didn't suggest going out to dinner until after something had been thawed? Does the word "refrigeration" mean nothing to you?
How often have your kids dropped in to talk and sat in silence while you watched 'Jeopardy' on television? I cannot count the times I called my sister and said, "How about going to lunch in a half hour?" She would gasp and stammer, "I can't. I have clothes on the line. My hair is dirty. I wish I had known yesterday, I had a late breakfast, It looks like rain." And my personal favorite: "It's Monday." She died a few years ago. We never did have lunch together. Because people cram so much into their lives, we tend to schedule our headaches. We live on a sparse diet of promises we make to ourselves when all the conditions are perfect!
We'll go back and visit the grandparents when we get Stevie toilet-trained. We'll entertain when we replace the living-room carpet.
We'll go on a second honeymoon when we get two more kids out of college.
Life has a way of accelerating as we get older. The days get shorter, and the list of promises to ourselves gets longer. One morning, we awaken, and all we have to show for our lives is a litany of "I'm going to," "I plan on," and "Someday, when things are settled down a bit." When anyone calls my 'seize the moment' friend, she is open to adventure and available for trips. She keeps an open mind on new ideas. Her enthusiasm for life is contagious. You talk with her for five minutes, and you're ready to trade your bad feet for a pair of Rollerblades and skip an elevator for a bungee cord.
My lips have not touched ice cream in 10 years. I love ice cream. It's just that I might as well apply it directly to my stomach with a spatula and eliminate the digestive process. The other day, I stopped the car and bought a triple-decker. If my car had hit an iceberg on the way home, I would have died happy.
Now...go on and have a nice day. Do something you WANT to......not something on your SHOULD DO list. If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting?
Have you ever watched kids playing on a merry go round or listened to the rain lapping on the ground? Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight or gazed at the sun into the fading night? Do you run through each day on the fly? When you ask "How are you?" Do you hear the reply?
When the day is done, do you lie in your bed
with the next hundred chores running through your head?
Ever told your child, "We'll do it tomorrow."
And in your haste, not see his sorrow?
Ever lost touch? Let a good friendship die?
Just call to say "Hi"?
When you worry and hurry through your day,
It is like an unopened gift....Thrown away...
Life is not a race. Take it slower.
Hear the music before the song is over.
Show your friends how much you care.
Seat belts are not as confining as wheelchairs.
Keep only cheerful friends.
The grouches will pull you down.
N.B. Retrospective posts are about 'written stuff' I've created or gathered well before this blog. Perhaps by looking into the past, we can glimpse why I am here today.
============================
Too many people put off something that brings them joy just because they haven't thought about it, don't have it on their schedule, didn't know it was coming or are too rigid to depart from their routine. I got to thinking one day about all those women on the Titanic who passed up dessert at dinner that fateful night in an effort to cut back. From then on, I've tried to be a little more flexible. How many women out there will eat at home because their husband didn't suggest going out to dinner until after something had been thawed? Does the word "refrigeration" mean nothing to you?
How often have your kids dropped in to talk and sat in silence while you watched 'Jeopardy' on television? I cannot count the times I called my sister and said, "How about going to lunch in a half hour?" She would gasp and stammer, "I can't. I have clothes on the line. My hair is dirty. I wish I had known yesterday, I had a late breakfast, It looks like rain." And my personal favorite: "It's Monday." She died a few years ago. We never did have lunch together. Because people cram so much into their lives, we tend to schedule our headaches. We live on a sparse diet of promises we make to ourselves when all the conditions are perfect!
We'll go back and visit the grandparents when we get Stevie toilet-trained. We'll entertain when we replace the living-room carpet.
We'll go on a second honeymoon when we get two more kids out of college.
Life has a way of accelerating as we get older. The days get shorter, and the list of promises to ourselves gets longer. One morning, we awaken, and all we have to show for our lives is a litany of "I'm going to," "I plan on," and "Someday, when things are settled down a bit." When anyone calls my 'seize the moment' friend, she is open to adventure and available for trips. She keeps an open mind on new ideas. Her enthusiasm for life is contagious. You talk with her for five minutes, and you're ready to trade your bad feet for a pair of Rollerblades and skip an elevator for a bungee cord.
My lips have not touched ice cream in 10 years. I love ice cream. It's just that I might as well apply it directly to my stomach with a spatula and eliminate the digestive process. The other day, I stopped the car and bought a triple-decker. If my car had hit an iceberg on the way home, I would have died happy.
Now...go on and have a nice day. Do something you WANT to......not something on your SHOULD DO list. If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting?
Have you ever watched kids playing on a merry go round or listened to the rain lapping on the ground? Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight or gazed at the sun into the fading night? Do you run through each day on the fly? When you ask "How are you?" Do you hear the reply?
When the day is done, do you lie in your bed
with the next hundred chores running through your head?
Ever told your child, "We'll do it tomorrow."
And in your haste, not see his sorrow?
Ever lost touch? Let a good friendship die?
Just call to say "Hi"?
When you worry and hurry through your day,
It is like an unopened gift....Thrown away...
Life is not a race. Take it slower.
Hear the music before the song is over.
Show your friends how much you care.
Seat belts are not as confining as wheelchairs.
Keep only cheerful friends.
The grouches will pull you down.
Friday, September 14
Strange night indeed...
It is easy, so easy, to fall into 'bad' things.
I do injustice to the statement by describing it with a mono-syllabic, 3-letter word, but I find no other way of saying it without giving away my personal barometer of ethics or morals. The statement is not about MY yardstick of values. It is a statement about ANY and ALL yardsticks -- that more often than not, it is easier to find ourselves at the "negative" end of the stick versus the "better" end.
Perhaps this truth is why some believe the world to be a cold, dreary place. Something to avoid, to hide from, to dissociate. Perhaps also why pessimism and deep-seated sarcasm are in vogue. Also, possibly causing our natural discomfort at giddiyingly positive messages from TV/Movies/Conversations/Books/SMS Messages/Etc. We've all heard things we find "sickeningly corny" -- with our brains screaming 'nothing can be THAT picture-perfect.'
Some philosophers (read: people who have WAY more time than I do) have even found this observation as basis for arguing that man is "naturally evil." They argue that whatever the circumstance, everyone's default setting is on "bad" vs. "good."
All my life I've always believed this to be true -- that falling into 'bad' comes off easily. But this only strengthened my appreciation for most things 'hard' and 'difficult.' Having grown up with Catholic Faith, I sought to be a 'good' person, and this I associated with working hard.
But when I lost my faith almost 4 or 5 years ago, casting it away for reasons I cannot remember, I didn't realize I had cast away this fundamental truth. For almost five years, I had not only lost a meaningful relationship with God, but I had lost my love for all things difficult and challenging. Where before I searched for tests of fire, I had now sought a more lukewarm feeling.
In hindsight, this may have been the single most regretted choice in my life. I began to chose the easier path, not to mention an infesting envy of all those who could overcome anything hard or difficult in life. This choice had brought on much pain, suffering, and sorrow -- many I've just unearthed and I expect many more I will discover in the months of introspection to come.
But having recently renewed my faith in my God, I am starting to re-appreciate what is hard. But falling in love takes time - whether it be with a person, or to a fundamental belief in life. This will take time, I know. But it is a love that is worth it.
Like someone said with fewer words than I just did -- 'what doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger.'
I do injustice to the statement by describing it with a mono-syllabic, 3-letter word, but I find no other way of saying it without giving away my personal barometer of ethics or morals. The statement is not about MY yardstick of values. It is a statement about ANY and ALL yardsticks -- that more often than not, it is easier to find ourselves at the "negative" end of the stick versus the "better" end.
Perhaps this truth is why some believe the world to be a cold, dreary place. Something to avoid, to hide from, to dissociate. Perhaps also why pessimism and deep-seated sarcasm are in vogue. Also, possibly causing our natural discomfort at giddiyingly positive messages from TV/Movies/Conversations/Books/SMS Messages/Etc. We've all heard things we find "sickeningly corny" -- with our brains screaming 'nothing can be THAT picture-perfect.'
Some philosophers (read: people who have WAY more time than I do) have even found this observation as basis for arguing that man is "naturally evil." They argue that whatever the circumstance, everyone's default setting is on "bad" vs. "good."
All my life I've always believed this to be true -- that falling into 'bad' comes off easily. But this only strengthened my appreciation for most things 'hard' and 'difficult.' Having grown up with Catholic Faith, I sought to be a 'good' person, and this I associated with working hard.
But when I lost my faith almost 4 or 5 years ago, casting it away for reasons I cannot remember, I didn't realize I had cast away this fundamental truth. For almost five years, I had not only lost a meaningful relationship with God, but I had lost my love for all things difficult and challenging. Where before I searched for tests of fire, I had now sought a more lukewarm feeling.
In hindsight, this may have been the single most regretted choice in my life. I began to chose the easier path, not to mention an infesting envy of all those who could overcome anything hard or difficult in life. This choice had brought on much pain, suffering, and sorrow -- many I've just unearthed and I expect many more I will discover in the months of introspection to come.
But having recently renewed my faith in my God, I am starting to re-appreciate what is hard. But falling in love takes time - whether it be with a person, or to a fundamental belief in life. This will take time, I know. But it is a love that is worth it.
Like someone said with fewer words than I just did -- 'what doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger.'
Sunday, September 9
Tribute: Madeleine L'Engle
***
Madeleine L’Engle, who in writing more than 60 books, including childhood fables, religious meditations and science fiction, weaved emotional tapestries transcending genre and generation, died Thursday in Connecticut. She was 88. (New York Times)
***
To be honest, she was not one of the authors I came upon discovering myself. Not like Tolkien, Rothfuss, Rowling, or Handler -- authors of series I love to read (LOTR, NOTW, HP, ASOUE) -- L'Engle's books did not jump at me from a bookshelf. A friend of mine in college lent me a tattered copy of "A Wrinkle in Time." And its to her I owe knowing such an author and her works.
Madeleine L'Engle's world was more mature, more lively, more daring than any I had read back then. Sure it was easy to get lost in Gandalf and in Frodo, and in the quest to destroy the one ring. But that was a genre of mystical creatures and of impossible, improbable quests against monsters and villains. Tolkien's world was so vividly colorful and exciting that making it into an Oscar-winning film trilogy was apparent. But L'Engle dealt with the same concepts much much more daringly. Keeping to human heroes and heroines, she boldly told a story that was deep and meaningful -- weaving concepts behind conformity, about understanding, behind the idea of 'deity', behind love, about seeking, behind being different, and being unique. She was smart, much like her heroes and heroines - writing children's books, but challenging the idea that what children read should be a lesser form from what adults can.
And considering she wrote this book in 1963 (i only knew when I research her biography ten minutes ago), it is all the more outstanding. A strong female heroine, an ability to weave advanced science into a morally-grounded children's story, and enduring themes; she was a writer decades ahead of her time.
Her recent picture seen here -- speaks to me how happy and content she was. I would consider my life blessed, filled, and overflowing if I could just be as half as happy as she is in this picture.
A few words from "A Wrinkle in Time" - one of her first, and most acclaimed books - will remain in my heart for as long as I can read, write, and understand them:
"Like and equal are not the same thing at all!" - Madeleine L'Engle, A Wrinkle in Time
rest in peace, Ms. L'Engle.
Saturday, September 1
Ratatouille Movie Review
Overall Assessment
Five stars out of Five.
The latest Pixar movie, Ratatouille, simply is, without question, the outstanding animation movie of this past year. There is so much positive things to talk about that I am struggling just to write something which doesn't sound like a run-on sentence of multiple thoughts, or an 'overall assessment' that goes beyond the space of your monitor screen.
Story / Plot - 4 out of 5
Dialogue - 5 out of 5
Character Development - 5 out of 5
Acting (or voice) - 5 out of 5
Cinematography / Animation - 5 out of 5
Music - 5 out of 5
X-Factor (variable element*) - 5 out of 5
Plot Theme
On the surface, the plot did not make use of the same material recent animations have -- talking animals, animals loose on the city, animals making their way in the world, etc. Yes, we did have talking rats. But the plot wasn't about the talking rats. It was about one talking rat's dream. The plot was about the dream! On a closer look, the plot gave off a strong flavor of "partial benefit symbiosis" -- where two 'uniques' merge as one for partial benefit to each individual. It was less subtle in this movie (because it was a movie with a much younger audience), but it has parallels to the likes of Cyrano de Bergerac.
In other words, the plot had multiple levels to it -- it was about a rat's passion and dreams. It was about the benefit and harmfulness of a symbiotic relationship. It was a foodie (food-lovers) movie. It was about the relationship between the value we find in what we do, and the value we put into family. It was a 'coming-of-age' movie (for those who like to overuse that one). And it was a funny movie with jokes for the kids, and adults.
Character Development
The characters had depth, because they dealt with problems that aren't too far off from what we deal with in real life. How many of us feel estranged against a parent. Disagree with them about who we are, and what we're capable off. How many of us have dreamed of something better for ourselves. A better job, somewhere we can be happy, friends. How many of us have been jealous for not being recognized, or a sense of wanting to be someone, somebody.
These are all easy to notice on live-picture movies. But in the world of animated films, its hard to see Zebras or Giraffes, Emperor Penguins or Squirrels, Cars or Robots exhibit these emotions. The challenge of character development in animation is whether I can see myself as that character, walking in the same shoes (or paws, claws, etc.). In Ratatouille, I can easily see myself as the aspiring cook Remy, rat-persona, or no.
Dialogue
The dialogue is one of the smartest and most moving I have heard from animation AND live-picture movies in a long while. It is easy, especially with children's movies, to fall back on time-tested dialogue and humor that is funny because it has been laughed at so many times already in the past. Some movies shine with one conversation or two which stand out. Ratatouille is a movie that overdelivers this. Not snobby, pretentious smart. And not teary-jerk, heart-on-their-sleeve, puppy-dog-eyes moving. But smart because it makes you understand life. And moving because it makes you care for what the characters care for, forgetting for a moment the fact that it is a fictional work.
Examples of the smart-moving dialogue:
1. "Where are you going?" says Remy's dad. Remy says "with any luck (pause) forward."
2. "In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize that only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere."says Anton Ego.
3. "Food always comes to those who cook (fade)." - Chef Gusteau
Animation
I will not pretend to know much about how difficult or easy it is to produce a work of animation. What I can talk about is how much I appreciate how beautiful it was. Notice that the whole movie seemed like it was shot with a camera - the background sometimes being out of focus when it's the forefront that's clear, and vice versa. And the animation of Paris lights, while I doubt if truly reflective of real life, was always breathtaking. The animation of the food was life-like - from preparation to finish.
Music
It had none of the campy, sing-song music that children moviegoers will be singing for weeks. No "I like to move it, move it", or such. And I'm saying that's a good thing! The music raised the level of the movie dramatically - from kids movie, to a heartwarming story. I for one cannot remember any of the songs played in the movie, nor hum any of the melodies. But I will certainly like to have those songs in my music collection someday. They just seem to evoke the right mood, a mix of meaningful happiness and fulfilling activity.
X-Factor
For this movie, the X-Factor was the thought-provoking message of the movie. Not every kids' movie has one. And not every kids' movie that has one goes beyond the overused box of moral lessons. Be yourself. Dream, and make it happen. Overcome the odds. One against many. Courage of your convictions.
Ratatouille had -- anybody (not EVERYbody) can be somebody great. This is pretty subtle, and it took 2 days for the right meaning to sink in to me. Subtle. Unique. Beyond cliche. Concise.
Closure
I will end not with my own words, but in the words of Anton Ego, the critic-character in the film. The following dialogue is his words in the film, about his experience eating from Remy's creations:
"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that, in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize that only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more."
I wish I could be coming to the defense of something unappreciated and unrecognized, new and brilliant, a work I see that has great value. Alas, this time, I come to the defense of all these things, except that Ratatouille is neither unappreciated or unrecognized. I join the ranks of many on this one.
Plot Synopsis:
Remy is a rat, constantly risking life in an expensive French restaurant because of his love of good food, as well as a desire to become a chef. Yet, obviously, this is a rather tough dream for a rat. But opportunity knocks when a young boy, who desperately needs to keep his job at the restaurant, despite his lack of cooking abilities, discovers and partners the young Remy. Its up to the two of them to avoid the insane head chef, bring the rest of Remy's family up to his standards, win his partner a girl, and, of course, produce the finest Ratatouille in all of France.
Five stars out of Five.
The latest Pixar movie, Ratatouille, simply is, without question, the outstanding animation movie of this past year. There is so much positive things to talk about that I am struggling just to write something which doesn't sound like a run-on sentence of multiple thoughts, or an 'overall assessment' that goes beyond the space of your monitor screen.
For once, it might be more concise to itemize the negative impressions I have. But this is not going to be that kind of review. We shall rise up to the challenge, and describe, with no compromises, why this author believes Ratatouille is worth 10 times what you paid for at the box office.
Story / Plot - 4 out of 5
Dialogue - 5 out of 5
Character Development - 5 out of 5
Acting (or voice) - 5 out of 5
Cinematography / Animation - 5 out of 5
Music - 5 out of 5
X-Factor (variable element*) - 5 out of 5
Plot Theme
On the surface, the plot did not make use of the same material recent animations have -- talking animals, animals loose on the city, animals making their way in the world, etc. Yes, we did have talking rats. But the plot wasn't about the talking rats. It was about one talking rat's dream. The plot was about the dream! On a closer look, the plot gave off a strong flavor of "partial benefit symbiosis" -- where two 'uniques' merge as one for partial benefit to each individual. It was less subtle in this movie (because it was a movie with a much younger audience), but it has parallels to the likes of Cyrano de Bergerac.
In other words, the plot had multiple levels to it -- it was about a rat's passion and dreams. It was about the benefit and harmfulness of a symbiotic relationship. It was a foodie (food-lovers) movie. It was about the relationship between the value we find in what we do, and the value we put into family. It was a 'coming-of-age' movie (for those who like to overuse that one). And it was a funny movie with jokes for the kids, and adults.
Character Development
The characters had depth, because they dealt with problems that aren't too far off from what we deal with in real life. How many of us feel estranged against a parent. Disagree with them about who we are, and what we're capable off. How many of us have dreamed of something better for ourselves. A better job, somewhere we can be happy, friends. How many of us have been jealous for not being recognized, or a sense of wanting to be someone, somebody.
These are all easy to notice on live-picture movies. But in the world of animated films, its hard to see Zebras or Giraffes, Emperor Penguins or Squirrels, Cars or Robots exhibit these emotions. The challenge of character development in animation is whether I can see myself as that character, walking in the same shoes (or paws, claws, etc.). In Ratatouille, I can easily see myself as the aspiring cook Remy, rat-persona, or no.
Dialogue
The dialogue is one of the smartest and most moving I have heard from animation AND live-picture movies in a long while. It is easy, especially with children's movies, to fall back on time-tested dialogue and humor that is funny because it has been laughed at so many times already in the past. Some movies shine with one conversation or two which stand out. Ratatouille is a movie that overdelivers this. Not snobby, pretentious smart. And not teary-jerk, heart-on-their-sleeve, puppy-dog-eyes moving. But smart because it makes you understand life. And moving because it makes you care for what the characters care for, forgetting for a moment the fact that it is a fictional work.
Examples of the smart-moving dialogue:
1. "Where are you going?" says Remy's dad. Remy says "with any luck (pause) forward."
2. "In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize that only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere."says Anton Ego.
3. "Food always comes to those who cook (fade)." - Chef Gusteau
Animation
I will not pretend to know much about how difficult or easy it is to produce a work of animation. What I can talk about is how much I appreciate how beautiful it was. Notice that the whole movie seemed like it was shot with a camera - the background sometimes being out of focus when it's the forefront that's clear, and vice versa. And the animation of Paris lights, while I doubt if truly reflective of real life, was always breathtaking. The animation of the food was life-like - from preparation to finish.
Music
It had none of the campy, sing-song music that children moviegoers will be singing for weeks. No "I like to move it, move it", or such. And I'm saying that's a good thing! The music raised the level of the movie dramatically - from kids movie, to a heartwarming story. I for one cannot remember any of the songs played in the movie, nor hum any of the melodies. But I will certainly like to have those songs in my music collection someday. They just seem to evoke the right mood, a mix of meaningful happiness and fulfilling activity.
X-Factor
For this movie, the X-Factor was the thought-provoking message of the movie. Not every kids' movie has one. And not every kids' movie that has one goes beyond the overused box of moral lessons. Be yourself. Dream, and make it happen. Overcome the odds. One against many. Courage of your convictions.
Ratatouille had -- anybody (not EVERYbody) can be somebody great. This is pretty subtle, and it took 2 days for the right meaning to sink in to me. Subtle. Unique. Beyond cliche. Concise.
Closure
I will end not with my own words, but in the words of Anton Ego, the critic-character in the film. The following dialogue is his words in the film, about his experience eating from Remy's creations:
"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that, in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize that only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more."
I wish I could be coming to the defense of something unappreciated and unrecognized, new and brilliant, a work I see that has great value. Alas, this time, I come to the defense of all these things, except that Ratatouille is neither unappreciated or unrecognized. I join the ranks of many on this one.
Plot Synopsis:
Remy is a rat, constantly risking life in an expensive French restaurant because of his love of good food, as well as a desire to become a chef. Yet, obviously, this is a rather tough dream for a rat. But opportunity knocks when a young boy, who desperately needs to keep his job at the restaurant, despite his lack of cooking abilities, discovers and partners the young Remy. Its up to the two of them to avoid the insane head chef, bring the rest of Remy's family up to his standards, win his partner a girl, and, of course, produce the finest Ratatouille in all of France.
Tuesday, August 28
Innocent experiments, part two
Well, I didn't pass away from eating what I had cooked. So Hooray! for that. :)
But I got a small migraine a couple of hours after eating the relyenong bangus I cooked -- so out to the trash the rest of it went. Other than that, no problems.
I've decided the other day to stretch my experiments to more 'advanced degree' filipino dishes, so I cooked myself some Kare-kare (oxtail and tripe in peanut butter & achuete sauce) and Lechon Kawali (pieces of pork belly deep fried to a crisp).
Kare-kare:
Lechon Kawali:
have eaten them already, with my friend Jake, and suffice to say -- I am alive. :)
YUM!
But I got a small migraine a couple of hours after eating the relyenong bangus I cooked -- so out to the trash the rest of it went. Other than that, no problems.
I've decided the other day to stretch my experiments to more 'advanced degree' filipino dishes, so I cooked myself some Kare-kare (oxtail and tripe in peanut butter & achuete sauce) and Lechon Kawali (pieces of pork belly deep fried to a crisp).
Kare-kare:
Lechon Kawali:
have eaten them already, with my friend Jake, and suffice to say -- I am alive. :)
YUM!
Sunday, August 12
Innocent experiments
Having no better thing to do all saturday, and since I woke up too early -- I decided to cook another round of dishes to last me a couple of days.
This time I decided to stick with filipino dishes:
- Chop suey (vegetable stir fry with pork and quail eggs)
- Giniling (ground pork in tomato sauce with carrots and potatoes)
- Paksiw na Bangus (milkfish in vinegar-like broth)
- Galungong (fried fish)
- Adobong Pusit (boiled squid with tomatoes, simmered in its own ink)
- Squid fritters (fried breaded squid)
- Relyenong Bangus (milkfish stuffed with fish meat, tomatoes, carrots and raisins)
I was only able to take pictures of four of the dishes:
Chop suey:
Relyenong Bangus (i wrapped it with aluminum foil):
Paksiw na Bangus:
Adobong Pusit:
The "paksiw" didn't turn out right. I mistook how I was supposed to cook it -- proper way is on a wide pan, with the water-vinegar at shallow levels -- NOT in a pot with the fish entirely submerged in the mixture.
But I am pleased with the relyenong bangus. I mean, 'stuffing' a fish isn't exactly a normal kitchen activity. It was exciting. But I won't be doing it again anytime soon.
Now I'll be enjoying these creations in the days to come.
I'll post again soon, hopefully if I'm not overcome with food poisoning. ;)
This time I decided to stick with filipino dishes:
- Chop suey (vegetable stir fry with pork and quail eggs)
- Giniling (ground pork in tomato sauce with carrots and potatoes)
- Paksiw na Bangus (milkfish in vinegar-like broth)
- Galungong (fried fish)
- Adobong Pusit (boiled squid with tomatoes, simmered in its own ink)
- Squid fritters (fried breaded squid)
- Relyenong Bangus (milkfish stuffed with fish meat, tomatoes, carrots and raisins)
I was only able to take pictures of four of the dishes:
Chop suey:
Relyenong Bangus (i wrapped it with aluminum foil):
Paksiw na Bangus:
Adobong Pusit:
The "paksiw" didn't turn out right. I mistook how I was supposed to cook it -- proper way is on a wide pan, with the water-vinegar at shallow levels -- NOT in a pot with the fish entirely submerged in the mixture.
But I am pleased with the relyenong bangus. I mean, 'stuffing' a fish isn't exactly a normal kitchen activity. It was exciting. But I won't be doing it again anytime soon.
Now I'll be enjoying these creations in the days to come.
I'll post again soon, hopefully if I'm not overcome with food poisoning. ;)
Saturday, July 14
Linguistic Harmony
"As you continue on your path, you will lose some friends and gain new ones. The process is painful... but often necessary. They will change. And you will change. Because life is change. From time to time, they must find their own way. And that way may not be yours. Enjoy them for what they are. And remember them for what they were."
Anyone who has heard this before, who knows where I have quoted this from -- they are blessed with a good story. Penetrating insights often come from remarkably strange places.
Good night. :)
Anyone who has heard this before, who knows where I have quoted this from -- they are blessed with a good story. Penetrating insights often come from remarkably strange places.
Good night. :)
Sunday, July 1
Visual DNA
For those curious about my previous post -- its a personal kind-of pictograph that you can custom make for yourself. It showcases pictures instead of words to describe the kind of person you are.
Try it out.
--> imagini.net
Just click START. :)
Try it out.
--> imagini.net
Just click START. :)
Tuesday, June 26
Sunday, May 6
Book Review: The Fifth Vial
Entree
It was a boring friday night, and I decided to pass by the bookstore on my 5 minute walk back home. As I paid for my weekly 'Economist' magazine, some of the fiction novels on 'highlight' caught my eye. A book I hadn't seen before was there - pristine white except for the title and a graphic of a large test tube on the cover. Many times I've passed by the same bookstore and that 'highlight' shelf without actually taking a book. The cashier, done with my purchase, asked again if there was anything else. I quickly browsed the inside flap of the new book - it was a 'medical' mystery / thriller novel. Still high on this week's excellent House M.D. Episode (3x20 - 'Family'), I pick it up and pay for it. The rest of my weekend was spent reading 'The Fifth Vial' by Michael Palmer.
Overall
An overall grade of B.
Being my first 'medical novel', it was a good read. The topic - illegal organ trafficking on the 'grandest' scale - was as good as any. The best reason I have for giving a modest 'B' was that it did not oversell itself. From the little I read on the inside flap, there was no promise of 'great adventure', 'a shocking earth-shattering secret', or 'brilliant twists and turns.' It was a medical story, and in that sense, it delivered. There was enough puzzlement at the beginning to catch my curiosity, enough emotional connection to get me through 40 chapters, and enough closure at the end that I don't feel the urge to look for a sequel. It was good storytelling.
Weaknesses
What it lacked was excellence in certain areas - namely pace, character development of antagonists, and a setting that emotionally connected.
The story's pace was both a blessing and a curse. There were sections which moved like a snail - unnecessarily repeating emotions and connections already made, and focusing too much on minute, irrelevant detail that doesn't move the story forward. However, at places the pace was quick, and on a couple of times, inventive. More on this when I talk about the pace as a strength.
While emotional rapport was certainly built between the reader and heroine and hero (though the book is certainly more a heroine than hero story), no such connection was made with the antagonists. While not necessary in all fiction, I've found that a reader who is heavily invested in both protagonist and antagonist tends to walk away from the book with a richer experience. Take Silas for example, from 'The Da Vinci Code', or Wednesday from 'American Gods'. Certainly in 'The Fifth Vial', the malicious intent of the 'Guardians' (the story's antagonists) was solidified in the first 3 chapters - hence forcing the reader to take sides too early in the story. I found this 'spoiled' some of my reading appetite; making me read mostly because I wanted to find out how the 'good guys' get to kick the 'bad guys' asses in the end. Sometimes painting the enemy with more than one color can be a rewarding investment in character development.
The setting also did not resonate with me - flashes of Boston and Texas, with most of the story happening in Brazil and Cameroon. While the description of the setting was vivid - the research center in Cameroon, the surgery hospital in Brazil -- they were just too far from conventional reality. While I felt the characters could've been real, the settings were less so.
Strengths
Many virtues of good storytelling abound also - good protagonist character development and connection, a medical narration that gave the right balance between being layman-friendly and medically-based, and so on. But one strength I found here, which I do not find in most other fiction books, was the exercise of control in telling ALL parts of a story. Instead, the reader is treated (mostly) to the important parts of the storyline, with certain events happening between the pages and chapters not written, but to be assumed and perhaps later explained in hindsight. This was creative storytelling I felt -- making the reader fill in the blanks with his own imagination, while only writing the important ones. It kept me pleasantly surprised to where and when I would find the characters next, despite their motivations being plain well beforehand (see weakness extolled earlier). A lot of other fiction writers can learn much from Michael Palmer in this redeeming writing style.
Recommendation
If you've already read most of your must-read-fiction-list and are looking for something new and fresh, I suggest you pick this one up. But if you're thinking between reading some other book you're sure you like and this one, I'd rather suggest you pick the other book you already know you like. This book is best read with no expectations, especially not versus another book you already like. But certainly, it leaves a fresh aftertaste.
Book Summary (from inside flap)
In Boston, a disgraced medical student is sent to deliver a research paper that could save her career. . . . Four thousand miles away, in a jungle hospital in Cameroon, a brilliant, reclusive scientist, dying from an incurable disease that threatens to make each tortured breath his last, is on the verge of perfecting a serum that could save millions of lives, and bring others inestimable wealth. . . . In Chicago, a disillusioned private detective, on the way to his third career, is hired to determine the identify of a John Doe, killed on a Florida highway, with mysterious marks on his body.
Three seemingly disconnected lives, surging unrelentingly toward one another. Three lives becoming irrevocably intertwined. Three lives in mounting peril, moving ever closer to the ultimate confrontation against a deadly secret society with godlike aspirations and roots in antiquity.
Medical student. Scientist. Private eye. Three people who will learn the deeper meanings of brilliance and madness, truth and deception, trust and betrayal.
Three lives linked forever by a single vial of blood—the fifth vial.
Monday, April 23
mirroring exercise...
There's this friend I saw on Yahoo Messenger tonight, who for the past few weeks I've observed has been having ups and downs in her life (noted from the many 'multiply' posts I get, plus her status messages).
I decide to send her a nice message about what I observed, and to get her to cheer up... only to realize that I was actually describing myself in the process.
Message goes:
"you know... minsan (sometimes) im confused na... you seem so... happy yet at the same time sad. like there are things and days that really make you smile, pero sometimes you have thoughts which run deep and make you question the road you are on. wala lang (nothing)... observation from the many multiply updates i get plus your long ever-changing YM status msgs"
Funny. I caught myself just before I pressed 'send.'
I decide to send her a nice message about what I observed, and to get her to cheer up... only to realize that I was actually describing myself in the process.
Message goes:
"you know... minsan (sometimes) im confused na... you seem so... happy yet at the same time sad. like there are things and days that really make you smile, pero sometimes you have thoughts which run deep and make you question the road you are on. wala lang (nothing)... observation from the many multiply updates i get plus your long ever-changing YM status msgs"
Funny. I caught myself just before I pressed 'send.'
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