ice cream at the george

i like ice cream in winter despite the freezing spells though like any other hot blooded mammal, i'm coming down with the flu. but work awaits, work always awaits.

diary four

last day of november, the coldest november in 25 years. merry jolly december tomorrow.
already got my 2011 friends calendar.

page 3.5

want to escape britain for the royal wedding, i know the event would be good for tourism and crap like that and since there are tons of other television channels, it's likely i could miss the live coverage. but the papers would be all over it and i love reading the newsprints in the UK. i don't even have to buy one to satisfy my cravings for news and features, there are a lot of free readings on the go in this side of the northern hemisphere, especially in london.

however, i know william is a stellar royal. but all these commotions in marrying a sloane seem a hollow enterprise. hopefully ths union of hearts would improve the economic outlook of the world.

seconds

don't really have the time to watch the X Factor or any reality show on ITV, or any programs on ITV. but a few people at work do follow the X Factor and it's a conversation piece to cover up the lulls and navigate the ebb and flow of working life. the contestants themselves are featured in the papers every day, so it doesn't seem i'm missing much. i just hope the winner will turn out to be like leona lewis or alexandra burke, overtake cheryl cole in the fame category, write in-depth songs that touch the soul, rely on sheer talent not a viable image.

minus temp

the coats in display are rather picturesque. the different array of scarves, jackets, bonnets, mittens certainly makes winter cozy, paints a kodak moment. it's going to snow first before i clear out the garden of unwanted weeds. but time off work is a luxury. plus all i want to do is snooze every waking moment.

sharpen

a resplendent sunday afternoon. much to my chagrin, i'm reading slower than my usual pace.

friday evening at the west end

dinner at Nando's, which has empty tables to our surprise. after that, a short walk towards the Noel Coward Theatre for Deathtrap. it was a fantastic few hours. the play was superb, enjoyed it tremendously.

re-type

it's snowing in some parts of england, though not in london, which is a good thing as i have yet to trim the weeds in front of the kitchen. my brother and his family up north are experiencing a foot of snow, urging the hubby to quip, "ring your brother, make sure they're alright."

they're fine. the car wouldn't run and the kids are screaming in the background. brad wants playdoh for Christmas. it's the start of the festive season and it might turn out to be a very white Christmas.

COYS!

from the heavenly winning moments to coming back down to earth in a 1-0 loss to Wigan at home, loss to West Ham away, draw to Everton at home, loss to Bolton away, draw to Sunderland on a chilly evening match. then there are the too many to mention injuries -- can't wait for ledley to come back.

spurs check

trapped

catching thy breath, blogging, replenishing the myriad of missing texts in these pages, writing about nothing and the weather, time is of the essence. although i have difficulty relating to some brand of women-talk from the home country during lunch hour. what if charice pempengco not featured in the glee concert at the O2? would that make it less interesting? a good singing voice is a good singing voice. but a few fags here and there could stifle the gift of angelic melody like what happened to charlotte church. one throat surgery and one is suddenly like julie andrews. i'm not saying that charice will end up like whitney houston. but am i really on speaking terms with people whose outlook are pretty limited?

on the same lunch hour note, is nationalism about skin-whitening creams? do us filipinos have to embrace the lack of melanin amongst caucasians? the spanish colonial period were a hundred and twelve years ago and the americans had left in 1946, the bases treaty was rejected in 1991 but colonial mentality prevails. we have to appreciate our own skin (color). i know we join the diaspora, we work, travel. but not integrating and not widening our notions and horizons stifle the progress of our identity. however people set in their ways and beliefs are hard to bend. nevertheless, there are the soft-spoken and more humble ones, not so much ingrained in domesticity. they go outside the box, leave the push chairs at home and carry their babies close to their skin.

saying hello

i just realised that i was seeking comfort in munching marshmallows. sugar is bad for me. the excess sweeteners thrive in my thighs and belly. got to resist. how to resist?

but it's ever so sweet, spurs winning 3-0 over werder bremen at home, merely three days after the magic in emirates. certainly good times ahead for the boys of white hart lane.

plus dd lewis, who actually was not that bad as guido in nine (wonderful singing voice) is slated to portray abraham lincoln, in a spielberg biopic. such lovely news, lovelier than the april 29 royal wedding. want to get out of the UK that week. all the mushiness of living and loving in the public eye, reminds me of melancholia rather than nostalgia.

strep

all i want to do today is write, lie in bed, stir up some arroz caldo in the pot. i wouldn't be able to remove all the creases from the fresh clothes in the box, just the uniforms, certainly. observing flip colleagues with elevated temperatures, runny noses, the likes, i concur that our tropical upbringing and physiology is not made for this weather. probably by staying indoors, soothing heated rest and drinking lemsip, we'll survive.

there's also the food issue. i can't resist the temptations of delicacies high in sugar, saturated fats and bad cholesterol. i have to learn to embrace salads and purely vegetable stews minus the rice.

november twenty

was at the pub at before 10. sipping pineapple juice, enjoying the delights of a full english breakfast, having a snooze, waiting to attend the north london derby.

curtain

after getting swept by the farscape wormhole (a daily occurence) in this utterly cool thursday night, i've decided to conjure happy thoughts like an invigorating bath or reading until i drift off to dreamland. dealing with egos, blood sugars and the rudiments of heavy lifting deflates my weak flesh. to recharge, my huggable babe and i will be in the theatre next week, to catch a straight play. the lure of the curtain call might be a tantalizing prospect. but through the first act, i would, in all likelihood, feel trapped, bursting to escape even before intermission. not even the dazzling presence of an ian mckellen or a kim cattrall could subjugate my visions of escape. but during the hours i was merely 10 feet from mcnulty, i truly had a magnificent time. it was all about the wire.

breakfast stop

was fortunate to have the caferia still serving breakfast after the contentuous encounter with sharp objects. nothing more exciting than thriving in the high-salt, high-fat processed meals.

in a hurry

supposed to be. but i took my time, realised that i forgot my phone a quarter through my walk, ended up almost late for my long-delayed blood test with the mister. then i was rude to the blood people as my fella (who left the house earlier than me) was moaning about his study day at half nine. i may be ravaged by hormonal shifts but i'm really bitchy by nature. i now give as i take. dren.

just a picture

it has been reported that leonardo dicaprio and tobey maguire are slated to appear in The Great Gatsby. such piece of good news, those boys are certainly pleasing to the eyes and i love the tome. what about Daisy? hopefully not Keira Knightley. i don't mind Carey Mulligan. what's the difference between two posh girls who shine through their Queen's English? i don't know but i'd like to see Rosamund Pike.

it's a week of New Moon on Sky Premiere. i don't get Twilight. my nephew does, but he's eight. Kristen Stewart also has this pissed with the world aura. every time i glance at her image, her Bafta speech comes to mind. i couldn't locate the period, the comma and the essence of her rising star speech. in Adventureland, Stewart plays Jesse Eisenberg's love interest. so much sadness and anger in that role. she wouldn't cut it as perky cheerleader.

shower apex

these are pie's gorgeous masterpieces, lit up ces' shower. it was a profound party -- great company, good conversations, beautiful smiles, presence of talented bloggers. we would have loved to join ry at the pub but the long train home and domestic bliss with its trials and tribulations await in earnest.

hollow hill

the B movie (something to do with Christmas) i'm watching, is totally lame. but the leading man is cute. so this mindless melodrama will do, no matter how farfetched the storyline and how lobotomised the viewing experience. the lead actress also fails to convince with her emoting and facial expressions. she was in baywatch, surely they had acting workshops during the course of the series.

drizzles in the dark

it's rainy. it's foggy. it's dark. the diurnal mood is bleak, all the way depressing. it's wreaking havoc with the brain screws. the past few days, aside from walking to and fro the job site and the bilateral train stops and running the necessary errands, i've settled comfortably indoors. although i have to cut the overgrown grass and tidy up the clutter outdoors. when i'll be able to get to that, i have no clue, maybe sunday or monday. my calendar is overflowing in the throes of winter.

at whl

as a sports fan, there's nothing more important than for my team to win. being in the crowds at white hart lane or old trafford or any away ground for that matter conjure a lot of different layers of emotions. we shout and curse, naturally. we cheer. we mutter loudly. if everybody is a sports fan, life would be a far better place because there would be far more interesting conversation pieces other than the state of the world's weather. yes, it's dark and cold outside. yes, we should be kinder and nicer to humanity. no, i'm not really digressing.

this is my view at the park lane side of whl, october 23, that would be spurs vs. everton.
great thanks for my mobile device. aside from the euphoric feeling of the inter milan night,
it's status quo for spurs fans. one day it's up there with the deities then back to earth three days later. blackburn is next on saturday.

before the greying clouds

it was a wonderland of colors.
at my train stop

autumn grip

was swallowed by the farscape wormhole this morning, missed all my chores (i should have hovered). i reckon it would be really enlightening to scan through all the farscape comics as well. farscape and the big bang theory have ignited my fascination with theoretical physics. it could be a losing battle however as i struggled with this subject in school. where would i find the time to read physics books in these hectic times? i couldn't even assign a slot in my schedule to watch the behind the scenes machinations in the social network. pity.

the leaves look great, though.

strike, strike me not

due to the tube strike action, got to work early during the week, cost more money here and there but thank God the northern line was not severely affected. although the TFL website seemed not accurate. problems in the route? what does that mean? severe delays? just keeping fingers crossed for a smooth ride.