gilmore girls lines

lane kim, an authentic audiophile, together with her mother Mrs. Kim are my favorite characters on gilmore girls. lane has better taste in men than both rory and lorelai combined. adam brody only appeared for one season then he was off to the OC. i've never seen the OC. i would never have the inkling to see the OC. but that rachel bilson has some nice dresses.

Dave: A few weeks ago you told me that Lane had a crush on me. Well, I have a crush on her, too. Now, I know you have very strict rules about dating and boys, but I just want you to know that I'm a good person. I don't smoke, I don't drink, I've never gotten a ticket, I'm healthy, I take care of myself, I floss. I never watch more than 30 minutes of television a night partly because I think it's a waste of time and partly because there's nothing on. I respect my parents, I do well in school, I never play video games in case they do someday prove that playing them can turn you into a serial killer. I don't drink coffee. I hate soda because the carbonation freaks me out. I'm happy to give up meat if you feel strongly about it. I don't mind wearing a tie. I enjoy playing those hymns on my guitar, and I really, really want to take your daughter to the prom.

—Season 3, Ep. 20: "Say Goodnight, Gracie"

dave rygalski portrayed by adam brody

lane's band ---- sebastian bach, formerly of skid row, replaced adam brody on guitar at the start of the fourth season.

blogs

blog hopping could be exhilarating. there are a million sites to choose from. gossipers, philosophers, naysayers, poseurs abound. quite a lot follows grey's anatomy like this one and a blog site that doesn't. there are tons that link to jessica zafra's site and i'm one of the very obscure ones amongst thousands. when i went home last month, i've unearthed my clippings of her womenagarie column from 1989 when she was into sting and daniel day-lewis. now she elucidates about her cats named after federer and safin. every major tennis event would be documented and federer is the star of the show.

my friend cj writes very well. now ensconced in kimmi meissner's hometown of baltimore, my gorgeous friend weaves not only enjoyable but profound and intricate pieces and like zafra, she has this magical grasp with the english language, her subjects saunter from pop culture to her favorite bands or her travels and adventures to her epiphany in the bath tub. she was the astute observer who pointed out to me in the pete sampras era that tennis and golf are clearly country club sports. her literary possibilities are boundless. i was dipping my hands on a bill bryson non-fiction years ago, it occurred to me that she could conjure better drivels. so keep the words flowing, joy.

the poetic potentials of my friends merma and ryan leave me gasping for more of their rhyming. if only i could avail of rye's poems readily in the web. poetry.com takes hours to download. but the paragraphs still ignites with beauty in his friendster blog, bestowing insights into his zestful world.

i haven't found anyone who blogs about sports frequently. not only manny pacquaio as muse, or ponderings on manny pacquaio's politics. but sports. volleyball, gymnastics, downhill skiing? i know i know i should go to sports websites and read steve kerr.

taste is a choice. a person's choices whether good or bad is a reflection of his/her sensibilities. christian bale may be stoic to some but he's absolutely talented and chameleonic to me. my aesthetics sense sometimes subsist on the new yorker hand in hand with a copy of the national enquirer, the evening standard magazine on fridays and a glance at the lakers' results. i still long to watch more films and yes, more sports. or catch a favorite band in concert. but then i have a sweet hubby that reminds me in case i missed the headlines, "babe, robert altmann died the other day." definitely, someone after my heart.

gilmore girls log-in

it has been almost a month and i'm still downloading. i have to wait and wait until i'll be able to quench this gilmore girls fix. unlike any other CW shows, gilmore girls didn't reach dawson's creek popularity in the british isles. it's only a blip. a tiny minority knows of its existence. there are no dvd's available anywhere in the city.

the very reason i got stuck at the end of season 5 is because in june or was it july, the hallmark channel showed daily episodes of the revered mother-daughter show from seasons 1 to 5. i knew there would come a time, the card-channel would suddenly halt all proceedings and they certainly did, last month. i'm now pining for season 6. i'm still in this luke-lorelai mode and christopher is just christopher at the moment, rory's dad. not yet the new husband.

but as always i continue reading about the series so i'm more or less up to date. according to the new york times, the departure of the palladinos (the show's creators, due to contract disputes) changed the structure of the show. less pop culture references? that wouldn't be gilmore girls. that would be seventh heaven.

and everybody hates chris? christopher, despite the sherry sidesteps in seasons 2 and 3 is still dishy. why couldn't lorelai get together with the father of her child? even if that child kept pining for the wrong guy post-dean. the palladinos should have poured more meat into the dean character. but no, jared padalecki, who was equally at-home in the new york minute arms of mary-kate olsen, is now doing well in supernatural. while the writers fueled a james dean persona into jess. why would rory like someone who was disrespectful towards her mother? the seemingly goody-goody girls always fall for the bad boy. milo ventimiglia has moved on, first in american dreams and now heroes and has called it quits with miss bledel. logan, meanwhile may be rich and well-connected but he's too spoiled for comfort, it's almost unpleasant.

and as for lorelai, despite her unconventional relationship with her mother and that over-the-top brooding for luke, is the driving force of the series. how we wish we could all be that brainy or that gorgeous or that funny and be surrounded by witty people and be the bearer of quotes to live by from hereon.

applause for a champion

the sight of a filipino lifting the world pool championhsip trophy is something extraordinary. back from the dead after losing his two matches in the preliminaries, ronato alcano beat the big guns for the hundred thousand dollars cash prize -- the likes of efren reyes and the deadly taiwanese duo of wu chia ching, the defending champion and kuo po-cheng, last year's runner-up. the subdued pinoy from rizal's birthplace displayed superb abilities in cashing on banks, utilizing soft breaks and deadly combinations en route to victory and gave all his countrymen something to cheer about in this era of high prices and uncertainty.

although i've heard of marlon manalo and i've seen dennis orcollo and ramil gallego brandished their prowess when this matchroom sports-sponsored event was still played in cardiff. i've never had a glimpse of alcano. until this week. the philippines has ceased eons ago to not only be known as a bustamante-reyes country, it's an acclaimed fact, that it's an enclave of a fabulous accumulation of pool talents. albeit i'm not aware of a kanye west synergy transplanting into pool, (or is it lee van corteza?) the philippines produces gifted players through sheer grit and hustle. a keen eye and stroke of pool genius could propel a fortunate individual from the doldrums of poverty and into the pantheons nonpareil of greatness. unlike david beckham's football, there's no age limit. perhaps there is, let's say 60? or 55?

perhaps as pool sometimes require eerie stillness while the match is in progress, the PICC crowd should have refrained from constant movements, or worse cellphones blaring while the players were sashaying the table. subdued is not just our adjective. but it definitely was the word to describe one ronato alcano, world pool champion 2006 (photos taken from worldpoolchampionship.com).

a wimp in style

when one gets afflicted with excruciating pain, the person not only endures daily physical sufferings but the image of frailty and weakness. i admit my arthritis is a hindrance to a lot of things, like working in a day job that brings nothing but annoyances from mean bitches (goodness, how many more weeks have i got left in the walls of abu ghraib?). others with the same turmoil comprehends my ordeal but a version of cruella de ville, who castigates like a lilian bettencourt with all that billions or angela merkel with all that power, views my restrictions and even my demeanor with utter derision. i know it's only three rooms. but there are bigger oceans.

as i try to scale some heights or at least do some writing, this job is just the only way not to float and sink in poverty, the constant anguish is harder than one can imagine. is it bad to be coy and diffident? i need to ask more questions. i'm in definite awareness of all my drawbacks.

is it better to be contemptuous and condescending? this is a word of mouth, world. i may not have friends from the high places but i have friends. i don't mind losing one more acquaintance. there are tons of likeable people. the dark side never wins over the jedi knights.

so what if i can't function without pain? i've managed the last five years, or is it six? i can no longer recall. i have to remind myself always to give the zafra stare to the mean girls and ask them to get laid with their very own christian bales (photos from wikipedia.org).

smokin ladies

stumbling upon two movies the past month on dvd starring two chain-smoking leading ladies, film-viewing wavered me a bit from the very exciting world of housework which is never-ending unlike the reese witherspoon-ryan phillippe coupling.

one is sharon cuneta's p.s. i love you from 1981, a teenybopper with gabby concepcion. a former smoker who only stopped recently or so i've read from her website, sharon cuneta.com -- sharon's second foray into the movies, p.s. i love you has the basic plot of all her earlier features, rich girl meets rich boy, conflict with parents/friends, but a happy ending as always. i've never seen dear heart or my only love. i've had glimpses of cross my heart, forgive and forget, friends in love and to love again. yes, i'm well-versed on the megastar's filmography but i'm not a sharonian. sharon cuneta is just an embodiment of a fantasy. who doesn't want to be a rich girl? but she took her privileged upbringing one step higher, as an affluent charmer adored by the masses, whom without her parents money became a rich girl by her own right.

back to p.s. i love you. christine (sharon) met mike (gabby) at a polo match. christine didn't like mike at first. but who wouldn't adore the old gabby concepcion of yore with his cute smile and dreamy eyes? the young lady of 16, eventually succumbed to the lure of mr. close up. alas, christine's mom isabel (boots anson roa), a widow, disapproved of mike. mike was the only son of her former boyfriend, emilio, (eddie garcia -- who also directed the movie), whom she dumped for christine's father. at the start of the film, christine's family hacienda was the collateral for a p100 million loan from emilio's bank. the hacienda was subject for foreclosure, but isabel was rescued by her richer friends, dave and amanda played by tony carrion and barbara perez. in the end, isabel relented to her daughter's pleas hence that picturesque ending with the horse and helicopter.

the houses used as mike's and christine's digs were stunningly huge and we wonder why there are so many poor people in the philippines. how come some pinoys accumulate so much wealth? sharon's film might have been a vacuous offering on young love but it makes us (or it's just me), examine social issues besetting dear mother land more than any other films set in the slums.

another film which i picked up from the check-out was that of another smoker, jen aniston's rumor has it. i'm not sure if the former rachel has quit puffing her merits but reading from my collection of mag covers, quite unlikely. and rumor has it as a movie? a simple waste of time. the backdrop was flimsy. set in 1997, when clinton was still president, the main character believed that her family was the foundation for the graduate. shirley maclaine, the grandma, was anne bancroft's mrs. robinson and kevin costner's beau burroughs was the basis for benjamin braddock, dustin hoffman's role. how can someone as beautifully packaged as sarah huttinger (aniston) be conflicted? working in the obituary section of the new york times is not exactly cleaning toilets. how can poor sarah fell for the charms of the costner character? i know mark ruffalo as a boyfriend may be a bland lawyer who cannot enunciate properly but not everybody looks like brad pitt and mr. angelina jolie has the perfect drawl. go check out snatch with his special brand of irish accent or seven years in tibet where you're wondering whether he's speaking german or english.

probably, no amount of writing or directing or casting (supporting roles for mena suvari --sister, richard jenkjns -- father and kathy bates --family friend in the trailer) could have saved this film. but actors commit bad choices in their lifetime. even meryl streep sometimes hits a snag. rumor has it though had netted more in US box office than in her shoes, an earlier release where shirley maclaine first portrayed the role of grandma to two sisters. anyhow in her shoes had a more favorable review from the new york times (photos from the films' publicity reels).