to think, to read, to absorb

back to drawls, accents, the likes

 My kitchen master is not Irish nor Scottish. He doesn't have the RP drawl of Hugh Grant nor Hugh Laurie. Well he's not middle class. The last time I checked cockney is still English. He's not Cockney but still English. I wouldn't have to emphasise this bit if respected colleagues would only expand their horizon; mingle, observe, ditch the community for a mere moment, learn the various accents of the land. Not everybody speaks like Daniel Radcliffe or those guys who row and play rugby. Sometimes an English person sounds like Alan Sugar. Cheryl Cole has a distinct Geordie twang, so do Ant and Dec. It's not how the person speaks but whether or not he has something interesting to say. We can all speak posh. We can all twist our tongues.

But snobbery is inherent in every culture. A certain superiority complex is instinctive even to the well-intentioned individual. That's the cliched roll of the dice.

the pool

valleta snap

revitalizing

Horrible Bosses in my To Do list.

31st

at brighton.

we're not good friends

i wish i could attend my brother's wedding in december or even just my friend's in january '12. but they're both going to be held in sunny philippines. i have to pass and my heart is breaking. in 2010, there were two spurs weddings we attended. the party-only invite was more fun. although i've never seen the couple ever again. the other one where we were able to witness the whole shebang was illuminating. but i don't think they dig anybody brewed from the developing economies. there has been a lot of blanking and snubbing involved in the next few encounters and meetings. i was only an accessory of my husband's.

but then again there were two weddings from so-called friends that i wished i was invited but was completely ignored. i just got my fill of wedding photos from common friends in facebook. cliques at work, who would have thought?

second trail

travelling is a great learning experience.  it's fun and exciting as what the travellers and explorers attest.  i particularly like hotel rooms whether it's only  travelodge or the room with the view.  then there are the people.  but i haven't been to a lot of places really to have an articulate opinion.   there are areas in the world where the locals judge you through the shape of  your nose and the color of your skin.  that's not amsterdam. 

being embedded in the economic diaspora is way better than starving.  in some fascinating facets, my people have great souls. we take care of our family despite the distance, the hardships, the lack of  kindred spirits.  i don't like the predilections to gossip, but even the very rich are prone to talk.

day 2

written during day 2 in malta :

there's such a thing as too much sun. my genetics and instincts whisper to utilize colorful brollies. comparing a very hot summer to a very cold winter however, the lesser evil would surely be the former. when it's freezing and snowing, wearing the wrong kind of shoes for instance renders walking much trickier, tendency to slide, hurting the coccyx and the likes. i also find summer clothes much more colorful than the grey overtones of the chill. in sobbing truth, i tend to accept that the stuff of dreams of wet snowflakes just looks better in imagined universe.

22 •c

It seeps into your soul, indolence. Is it the curse of summer? Or merely the product of poor time management? Or lying in, with the 24 hour tv clicker is the beauty of existence? Or tired means tired, rest is priority. I guess that's it, a sabbatical, away from the glare of tiny screens and toxic rants.

afk

been away, i know. got tired of staring at the computer. just the thought of wreaking more havoc to my eyes, ah such pain.

well, actually, i should have written something substantial a few days ago, then the Norway atrocities happened and Amy Winehouse made us all sad and tearful by joining the 27 club. there are speculations. i'm just too exhausted to read or discuss them in detail.

all tv

 

the primetime emmy nominations were announced when i was in full concentration watching the third season of the big bang theory on dvd.   the series is nominated for best comedy and both johnny galecki and jim parsons are lauded in the best actor category.  then there's the good wife, with almost all of their cast members nominated in every category, including alan cumming, who plays the machiavellian and highly-entertaining strategist eli gold.  i definitely have something to look forward come 18th september.  glee though still nominated as best comedy series appears like a spent force on the circuit without the nods for lea michelle and matthew morrison.   i root for chris colfer, who has an authentic chance against the entire cast of modern family.

forgotten

the headaches screwed up the epiphany, if there ever such a thing. the dizziness made me rest and sleep during the productive hours. plus the mess that has been there for months also took more than a month to tidy. time wasting is my big time preoccupation. that's nothing new.

to compensate, i've been to the guard for a change of ID. sat in starbucks thursday and deplored the service. the staff has never been friendly in these shores. i read a little bit. now there are chores. let's simmer.

vertigo

I'm wearing my prescription spectacles as I'm writing these jumble of words. Maybe I wouldn't be so blind or astigmatised if I eat tomatoes. But I've never even tried the red fruits/vege stuff including peppers. I'm mentioning this tidbit as I saw folks munching tomato/pepper crunches in the team room.

I've never developed a taste for veggies. I used to shed a tear whenever I saw ampalaya/amargoso on the table. I still do. However, I've been craving for Laswa the last couple of years. It contains okra. I used to run away from okra. People change I reckon. But these glasses are making me dizzy.

staring

"you should break up with your fake high school girlfriend"

My husband told me I wouldn't be able to get the references in Scott Pilgrim vs The World. Maybe that was partly true, I didn't particularly play computer games or immerse myself in comic books. I suck at Super Mario Brothers. I like staring at the characters of Street Fighter but actually play? I left that to the brothers.

Scott Pilgrim vs The World is an outside-the-box romcom. I don't think it's even remotely romantic or a comedy. But that's what written on the promotional slogans. It's a very young, very hip plot, with all the martial arts duels and sparkling special effects. Michael Cera though appears too dorky and not entirely believable in the title role. He could easily have been vanquished by one of the evil exes. But it's a quiver of whimsy, from jolly good old Hollywood.

Aside from Cera, all the others are playing younger. They are quite effective in their kick ass roles, performing their heart out in the battle of the bands, flying high in the fighting scenes. It is simply bursting in concept and creativity, not the usual boy meets girl.

coin collection

with the exchange rate being crap, high prices of basic commodities, increased in gas and electricity prices and all other cuts, every single day is a cry for austerity. in simpler terms, no more fanciful bottle of pop during lunch break, consuming all the meat products and other items in the fridge before expiry dates, (one day out of date, they get thrown away by an adamant food authority) not entering a retail clothing shop, (for me at least, i'm perpetually begging mr. trainers) or a bookstore (amazon's cheaper but i can't wait, no more new books until december), eating more fruits and vegetables (i'm trying), sleeping early, waking up early, leaving the fascinators (obviously above) or fancy head gears to the movers and climbers. i could add some more, but i'll sleep first then write a part two when i get another epiphany.

at the least

bookshops.
libraries.
i don't have the time to read that often or to truly comprehend the classics. but i try once in a while despite my preponderance to procrastination.

last month i left a shoulder bag containing my handy Virginia Woolf tome in John Lewis food court near Kingston. my friend Honey was able to retrieve the bag but haven't seen her since that day of croissants, Hampton Court gardens, photo shoots in the park. the book is still waiting to be finished.

in the meantime, i'm scanning the gossip pages of the daily free newspaper or i could regale myself with the words of Charlotte Bronte in Shirley and make a valiant effort to stop the addictive habit of scouring the Internet with no specific sense of purpose.

the daily telly

the good wife season 1 retrospective is shown weekday afternoons on more4. season 1 definitely fares better than season 2, especially with the kalinda storyline, in what point was there any indication that the super hot, sexy investigator slept with his former boss? kalinda as a character was merely utilized as the stimulant for alicia to leave her husband. it's all about will for alicia, in the writer's mind.

aside from the good wife, more4 sister station E4 shows gilmore girls and glee also on a daily basis. i'm touch and go with gilmore girls, never liked lorelai and luke or rory with any other guy but dean.

after the hour

felt better. the paracetamol surely worked its magic.

but the eyes still hurt. was at home waiting for the UPS guy. turned out to be a one day wait, rather than 1130, or even 1330, the parcel arrived at 1545, almost. my cramped friday became a staring at the computer day, stinging the eyes even more. computer screens are much less friendly than hard copies. it would take a while before you'll convert me to embrace e-reader.

one hour

Woke up feeling weak, sick and eyes hurting, not good for a crammed Friday. Where are the prescription bifocals? Have to wait a week. Darn.

I'm going back to bed. Just for an hour.

soothing voice

went to boots opticians today for my eye test. of course, i need glasses. i was catered by three staff, one was tiger mean, the other two were quite congenial. the main optician was so pretty, so nice, so professional. the one who photographed my eyes was a roar of unpleasantness. in the service industry, a smile goes a long way. plus boots have a specific website to write comments or complains.

now let's tackle attitudes and behaviour in general. pernicious people, uncouthness don't get my vote, whether you're a colleague or a boss. shouting or raising your voice in a public domain when you're sober or not watching a sports event, in the fish section of libertad market or a political rally speaks of your breeding. rudeness should never be tolerated, period. it could sound hoity-toity, or a classic wimp appeal. but these are just my beliefs.

so far none of my friends are toxic to others. perhaps friends of friends? let's find out.

miss potty mouth

is me.

not yet as sharp tongued as gwyneth, i couldn't utter the C word just yet. but i'm liberated by the F word. there was once a collective gasp of disbelief when i blurted out my usual, FH loudly on comments about the off season Modric. the F word, the real F word is my solace from the short tempered uptight bitches.

to be born rich

taking photos of my feet last week during my frozen shoulders moment. i'm exhausted with the Tories and being this servile individual who does the audit and serves tea. the latter i don't particularly mind. i love playing nice. even if it's not a part to play.

to the main portion of the program, was talking to miss bibs on Thursday, coming across the topic of running the marathon. i wouldn't be able to run the marathon, not 10k, not 5k. tried when I was 20, i finished but i walked more than ran and barely able to move afterwards.

princess beatrice meanwhile ran and finished the London marathon the year before. as miss bibs, who walks miles for exercise, say, bea is a princess, never have to lift a finger, has trainers, minders and servants. her grandmother owns every pieces of land in great britain. she could do whatever she likes.

according to the hubby, there are three ways to become rich:

you're born rich.
you work hard
you're born lucky.

how to work even harder? such a query.

competing with the joneses

the movie is not too bad. it's not fantasy, it's all too real. sometimes i wonder why not every single entity who dare compare and compete with the joneses ends up drowned in their backyard swimming pool? what does it say in the desiderata?  

don't compare yourself to others, you'll only become vain and bitter.

not every one is born sucking a silver spoon. not every one go to the poshest school. not every one becomes Bill Gates. not every one is as creative as Picasso or a polymath like Da Vinci.

not every body reads, period. some merely like to trash talk thy neighbours. gossip is lethal. and beauty fades, even Elizabeth Taylor's or Brigitte Bardot's. while others look youthful. Joan Collins, anyone? does she smoke? she might have help from the apothecary.

one or two lovely friends shorter than me, have brimming self-confidence. they just do.

like any other human beings, i hate losing the babies. i also abhor pregnancy questions. in the department of christening parties, i couldn't compete with the joneses.  despite the upheavals, i do the best i can, eat the ice cream and ignore the prying eyes.