portrait

It was my mom's third death anniversary on the 22nd. I still ache for her vibrant opinions. She was the epitome of charm, grace and beauty. We might say that about all the mothers, but in her case, her pull of gravity was undeniable.

setlist2

SET 1
long road
last exit
why go
all night
the fixer
low light
in hiding
world wide suicide
not for you (modern girl)
even flow
present tense
save you
grievance
sleight of hand
got some
given to fly
rearview mirror

ENCORE 1
go
daughter
do the evolution
alive

ENCORE 2
smile
black
leash
the real me
indifference

almost a year since that concert at MEN Arena in manchester, i still dream pearl jam.

save draft

the convenience of phone blogger has rendered our netbook redundant. perhaps one downside is that there are no options for several window screens and watermarking.

i miss watermarking. but it beats carrying a heavy load, the way brumspur hoists his laptop and several gadgets from birmingham to london and vice versa. however, the amount of time he spends waiting for trains should not be for naught, hence all the hand-carry bags. goodness gracious, we shouldn't get bored.

31st July

Bedford Charter Market
since 1166 AD

Walked a few miles since Thursday.
Deflated, debilitated.
Embraced my version of a cardiovascular work out.

mirror, mirror

Dropped by janette on the third floor today.

J: Do you swim? I'm doing aqua yoga at the moment.

Me: If sitting by the poolside and taking a little dip is considered swimming, yes, I swim.

I admire J for her steadfast dedication to fitness. While all I think about is food. I'm UK size 12 at Warehouse. I'm size 10 anywhere else. Very rarely I'm size 8. Considering US size zero is UK 6, staring at the willowy models of UniQlo produces a sigh. Good for them, I have to eat.

promptness

Had a very interesting phone conversation with my husband an hour ago.

H: I will meet you at main reception at half three.
Me: I'll try.
H: What do you mean you'll try? You'll be there at half three.
Me: You're such a stickler for promptness. Why couldn't we adhere to Filipino time?
H: No, English time. Filipino time could mean anything.

Actually, Filipino time means the art of being late, give or take half to an hour or more. It tests one's patience when the show ( like concerts, galas, etc. or mundane events like a trek to Mount Patag in Silay) starts extremely behind allotted slot. But being away from home has its charms. For instance, Filipino time seems minimised in a lot of functions and being late is not exclusive to us Filipinos, based on basic handover kickoff at work. I'm very seldom late. The last time I was chronically tardy was the 0730 lecture time at university almost two decades ago.

I don't have a clue if Filipino time is still observed in the Philippines. The last dinner I attended we had to wait for others to make their grand entrances. It was a good thing text messages were in existence.

mix, mix, walk

Got my radar in tangles Thursday afternoon which was ruefully idiotic -- ruined my day, my sleep, my schedule. Had the appointment rebooked, there are no other options in this case but to move on and dust off the mistakes of the past. All throughout the proceedings, I was strolling, hiding my struggle in flip flops, gliding through multicultural urban avenues, inhaling London summer air.

If only.

the detour

posh address, a quiet detour from the high street.
a definite serenity.

railway garden

shifts

There was a drizzle this morning at nine o'clock. It wasn't that bad though, since it's still officially summer, the temperature is manageable. The English rain has never been overpowering anyway. The sun is setting early these days and before we're aware of the seasonal shift, it's December and we're balancing in a pile of snow.

However the two events in August are foremost in my mind. First the christening, it's not the most cozy place to be amongst babies and kids while I struggle emotionally with all my failed pregnancies. But babies are kind of cute, the thing that hurt the most are the sight of others parading their bumps and I'm not even talking about crack whores in this situation. It's like I'm being punished for being such a bitch but I speak softly and carry a big stick.

Next event is the wedding. Its not that horrifying, I just don't know the happy couple that well. I'm doing my husband a favour here, he wants to attend because of the invite. I can't change his mind. The western fiends may not say it loudly, but their mindset would embrace the idea that people from the third world must be lowly, unworldly creatures who may not know how to read and write. There's certainly a hierarchy within the G8 and the rest of the world. The status quo shouldn't adversely affect our self esteem.

guilty delights

great conversations.
sleep.
solitude.
reading.

toffee popcorn

Falling deeply in sleep during the midnight showing of The Big Bang Theory is not a good sign of someone refreshed. But I did exactly that and the succeeding hours of REM plus the additional time tossing and turning rendered my dilapidated flesh supine way into noon. Totally not a good sign of productivity. The chores are mounting. Got to tackle them now before the dawn of another working day.

park football

it has been a hectic few days. got sunburned on sunday, totally misread the forecast. but it was mostly me forgetting to bring the sunblock. the eddshrinker cup was fun though. i couldn't help laughing. it was a quiet study of ego, self- esteem and existential outlook. there were deep internalizations about culture divide. nonetheless, the nicest of them all is no longer with us.
damn.

eddshrinker cup

good game.
team kuntz69 9
team maverick 6

scorers: team kuntz
dicko 6
dazza 1
dan 1
stubbsy 1

team maverick

chelts - 1
maverick - 1
juan - 2
lazurus - 2


Team Kuntz69
Kuntz69
Toxxic
thayden
Dicko
BGD
SuperPav
Dan
dazzatheyid
Jed

Team Maverick
Maverick
Lazurus
MagicMonkey
Chelts
Juan King
Katrician
Kate Attack
Goose
Kenny
Chicko
Matt

midsummer's gust

we knew the gorgeous rays were too good to be true. it lasted two weeks and a bit more and in those span, it was almost impossible to explore the horizon, much less the world cup weary london of our dreams. as the fiery bluster of wind descends in our midst, we're left to pick up the remaining pieces of summer, the late sunset would be gone too soon. time to get a grip of the city before it becomes dark.

of unions and laughs

meeting the in laws for the first time is no laughing matter. forging a relationship is even trickier. that is why during the last week all i've been doing is play Guess Who every single day. it's a lobotomised version of Guess Who's Coming to Dinner. Bernie Mac is Spencer Tracy and Ashton Kutcher is Sydney Poitier. the Mac-Kutcher duo have a sparkling dynamic. the movie's comic timing, the awkward moments, the dancing, the singing are captivating. call me shallow and the likes for hankering over the less intimidating comedies. but then these so-called comedies are not as pretentious as the wannabe award-winning dramas. we all need a bit of merriment in our highly-stressful lives and for my despondent soul, it's merely Guess Who.

wine from management

Management, the indie flick starring Steve Zahn and Jennifer Aniston, is actually not too bad. Compared to most crap showing in cinemas and movie channels, this is my preferred viewing experience. Zahn, who plays Mike, is the film's main protagonist. His character's journey from Arizona to Maryland to Aberdeen, Washington to the Buddhist monastery and back to Arizona may seem incredulous, but there is an apparent charm and sweetness to his actions. A reader's comment in one of the reviews state that this film should never have been released. But I gather that comes from the anti Aniston camp because as moviegoers and pseudo-followers of tabloid culture, we like taking sides.

brand

that line about pacquiao and diddy is hilarious.

yellow whistles

Was working. Got to the pub 15 minutes to full time. Yellow confetti were engulfing the match. Why? Spain is already so much better than everybody else. Why succumb to the dodgy extra barks and dives just to prove their worth? (I didn't write that, some animated guy was really chatty beside me). But that's in essence La Liga and this is another final that Holland are the losing finalists. Some of the best names in football history are Dutch. But whoever bothers with second place? No World Cup for Arjen Robben who certainly was no Diego Maradona.

wet, dry

It says a high of 23 degrees celsius today on the weather box on my phone. But it might just reach 32. The same chart predicts a flurry of rain the whole of next week. I like meandering in the dry rather than the wet. Although a little inundation is not too bad.

page1

My sojourn to the bookstore rendered a few indecisions about the choice of reading materials. Still waiting for the compilation of essays to be available on paperback (the hardbound price is too steep), I looked for the familiar and picked up a classic. Or I think it's a classic. It's thick, heavy and going to be a hard read. It would take me a hundred years to be able to land in the final page. But this is the quintessence of this avenue, I've got to bury myself in extreme predicament or else the road would be filled with pitfalls.

at the foodhouse, wednesday

Finished my book. I'm such a slow reader. Remember the time Berger told Carrie he could not date a slow reader? Well, I'm way, way slower than that it actually hurts. My husband reads his novels faster than a speeding bullet. Not actually that fast, but you get the drift. I don't even skim through beauty or fashion magazines. Or textbooks. I reckon I could minimise my downloads of Philippine entertainment portals. Not totally stop, just lessen it a bit so that my hippocampus would not be filled with too much crap.

And since I have turned the last page, I get to drop by Waterstone this afternoon.

to explain

go spurs!

changes

tackled the shoes.
about to finish the book.
done my nails.

it took me two days but i didn't succumb to my lackadaisical self.

per se

The tasks for the day is simple : read a few chapters of the book that is hard to finish, tackle the shoes, do the pedicure plus commit to the errands that define the essence of being respectably tidy. Let's check at the end of this promising Tuesday.

Peak temperature : 23 degrees Celsius.
Mostly sunny.

perks

it's a deeply competitive universe. it doesn't always play fair. but as my husbands says there's nothing one (specifically me) can accomplish by moaning and moping. i hate word plays especially when dealing with pain and heartaches.

perked myself up with mindless movies, first there's PS I Love You starring sharon and gabby. the enormous mansions, luxurious lifestyle, sharon's warmth and charm, gabby's mercedes and yacht, it's the kind of film that make us want to be born and grow up rich and privileged. Sweet Home Alabama meanwhile is endearingly sweet, certainly glosses over life's setbacks.
to be so young.

Cleo

There hasn't been a film on the telly that took my fancy during the fortnight. There was an afternoon glimpse of Cleopatra starring Liz Taylor, Richard Burton and Rex Harrison. But it was almost five hours long. As a motion picture, despite supposed glamorous costumes, it feels like an empty five hours of nothing. Perhaps since I only saw five minutes of the flick, I should postpone my opinions for later. However in those precious five minutes, it wasn't impressive enough to convert the glimpse into a viewing or I was in a hurry to make my appointment. Maybe the next instance it comes up I will form conjectures, that is when I actually have five hours of precious free time. Despite the flak from all corners, it genuinely has a good review from the New York Times.

the cardozo effect

it hurts to miss a penalty.

interview

good answers.

quiet friday

in contemplation.

texts

I was conjuring paragraphs earlier when I realised I've already written about this subject and that topic. But what do people write when they're about to wake up and seize the day with the zest and vigour of the uninitiated? Nothing in particular. I first have to find my way in the mountains of laundry then emerge from the pile more engaging to the world. How do you do that when you're oh so exhausted?