making the grade

this is it for august, in terms of blog posts.
i've just about reached my target.
now unto the two hours snooze.

hail sheldon

sheldon to priya:

"you may have gone to cambridge but i'm an honorary graduate of starfleet academy."

hope sheldon wins the nobel prize in physics.

reply to missed calls

my BFF honey despite being inside the surgical theatre replied to my missed calls. i needed her expertise for a spur of the moment query.  rang her the night before. but no answer. maybe it was deep into the twilight. it turned out my godson's been vomiting. still she came through. explaining every detail in the voicemail. plus work, baby, phone calls is proving too difficult to juggle. so we can ignore this post.

discrepate

the 20-minute documentary on one of the esteros in manila entitled slums 101 shown on BBC news channel presents nothing shocking, to me of course, poor old third-world country girl me. yes, people in the esteros live in such stinking squalor, mr. economist. they just do. they wouldn't have to exist in such dire conditions if they would take a survey and see what keeps them from upgrading to live in a proper and legal tenement.

but  it's the luck of the draw. developing countries do not have the caches of the world's top economies. we don't have state welfare in the Philippines, if you will not work, you will go hungry. if you grew up in the slums, i don't know what does it take to uproot oneself from the area; find a job, work hard, carefully plan the number of progenies.

the suggestions to combat poverty, are merely, words. a hollow collection of letters that mean nothing to the powers that be, who only remember the masses during election years. it's still a new administration. there might be hope.

back to the bronte sisters

caught a film version of  wuthering heights (1992) the other day starring ralph fiennes as heathcliff and juliette binoche as cathy linton and catherine earnshaw.  i was enthralled for a bit.  heatchcliff doesn't seem as terrifying as he is in the book. binoche meanwhile is exquisite in every character that she portrays, whether it's catherine or cathy, or as marie in dan in real life.

the latest film adaptation of my favorite book is the cary fukunaga's directed jane eyre with mia wasikowska as jane and michael fassbender as mr. rochester.  it's UK opening is 9th september. hope to find some few vital cinema time or back to the dvd's.

i'd rather sleep

one of my greatest dreams in this lifetime is perhaps to own a chaise lounge. i like to sleep. i don't like going to a party, knowing that you only know one person.  i know, we can all meet new people.  but unless they really dig deep into your topics of interest,  the free bar won't even save you from the greatest ennui of your life.

searchin'

questions asked.
questions answered?

distilled

i'm falling short in my blog targets this year.  i don't have the required energy levels required to wake up early or sleep late, do the regular job and all the chores. but i'm quite contented with the fewer entries.  i'm a non-tweeter as well. talking about nothing and lunch cannot fully satiate the writing spirit.

but i share here more than i do with facebook.  it's going well so far.

no worries.

one hour of telly

i watched the hour because of dominic west.  i missed his play butley at the west end.  that would have been a gorgeous treat.  i couldn't seem to sit down and book the tickets.  but there's the hour, a BBC miniseries, about a current affairs program in 1956, with the backdrop of the suez crisis.  the hour is the very definition of boredom. west is not the lead.  he's the upper class, married cad, aiming to steal freddie lyons (ben whishaw) thunder both with the show and bel rawley (romola garai).  there was a conspiracy here and there and the posh drawl seems to be the only accepted accent.  but politics during the time of the cold war and the reflection on the black and white screen leaves me uninspired.  the personal stories of the three main characters create some drama.  but infidelity, was it or still is a common fare?  although they make cigarettes look cool and it's never cool.

trying

to write really.
my day is occupied with straightening the creases of a hundred of the bloke's shirts. very wifey undertaking. one of those activities that need hours of commitment. but it has to be done.

read.
play the documentary of the manila slums on the iplayer.
then.

looking marvelous

You Again is one of those lighhearted crap fare. Set in utopia that is the american suburbia, it's just mostly silliness that Sigourney Weaver and Jamie Lee Curtis can do in their sleep.  But look at Sigourney Weaver in her sixties, gorgeous.  while Jamie Lee Curtis dance moves remind me of  Perfect (1985), all leotards and tights film of 1985, she did with John Travolta.

right lateral recumbent

wasn't able to attend miggy's (ofie's tot) second birthday party. the daily pill to control the magenta drips is taking its toll during the downtime. it's a big do for the colleagues. it's something i really want to grace with my presence. the hostess is a rarity, the mood swings, which are prominent in most women's stressors, do not affect her. very pleasant lady.

but remaining vertical or going on transit in whatever vehicle would be next to impossible. i had to pass.

there i was yesterday, relegated to seeing usain bolt false start in 100 meters final. one false start disqualification is a hideous rule. followed spurs on sky, i don't mind not having a ESPN, as target practice for the big-spending man city squad at white hart lane. even had a greater shock when the gooners capitulated meekly to the other manchester team.

nevertheless the highlight of my day was the special viewing of Superman II. urged me to tackle a research overdrive on christopher reeve. breaks the heart. nonetheless, we're back to 1980, and swooning over clark kent. there was also a glimpse of superman returns. i'll get back on that later.

SATC 2, the heartaches

 unlike the first movie, i really didn't want to catch the sequel in the cinemas. i read all the reviews and the male reviewers basically were brutal. women moan too much, they say. as a tv series, the four gals bash men on a fairly regular basis. SATC is not for the male species. neither should any male writer review it. but they did and they've splintered this suffix into pieces.

in truth though, they're right. after a good year, i finally able to join the queue of disparagers. i didn't like the first film and the next one is another hallow foray into designer brands. yes, i'm bitter that i don't have a place in park avenue or live in hampstead. or couldn't afford a Chanel wallet. the girls have always been pretty privilege. carrie struck gold with Big. what does she write about that is pretty lucrative? she doesn't even write novels. yet, here she is, as the flick implies, the toast of manhattan, the ultimate party girl.

i like Stanford. i like seeing him with a few lines. he was barely cameo in the first film. his wedding though was too ostentatious. it defies a lot of reckoning. liza minelli was mostly mocked for her rendition of a beyonce classic. but at 64? c'mon guys, show some mercy.

in the main narrative, carrie is carrie. boring. charlotte wears vintage designer clothing while baking cupcakes worrying about the bra-less nanny. miranda's plot is way too thin. samantha is surviving on creams and pills to stave off the symptoms of menopause. she is remaining true to character at 52. she looks good, ageing better than all the other girls.

the writers dwelling too much on abu dhabi is far from a prudent decision. a show about liberated women transplanted into the most conservative region of the world is never a good mix. it becomes ridiculous. like their hotel suite or super first class seats in the plane. or their outfits in the desert.

shivers in august

in this soggy month, contrary to most end of summer days in recent years, i've experienced only a few shivers, one was after an evening of stirring conversations, with highly- knowledgeable people. the other times, were during a few early mornings on the way to work. it's going to be autumn very soon. it would usher a new chill and twilight.

cool. more shivers.

answering texts

with the advent of great technology comes the responsibility including operating a machinery like the photo copier (above).

in terms of the sophisticated social media, i like my texts, e-mails, snail mails answered and acknowledged. maybe not right away, a few days, a week, a few weeks later will even do. sometimes you're just hanging in the air like MJ. do they hate you? or what the F? the mantra of adhering to the rules of etiquette escape some really nice and decent folks.

a few noises

i like this not blogging every day routine. the state of not being rushed in subjecting oneself to scrutiny, is refreshing. that in addition to being handed extra shift in which to earn our dough. i sleep more. i eat more. the surrounding's a mess. last month's with a few day's off, i got stumped just laying off the housework. not a good idea when the mind is not at peace with chaos.

circa '96

One Fine Day (1996)

Parenthood (2010)

One Fine Day, the movie starring Michelle Pfeiffer and George Clooney (1996) is a nice distraction from the maudlin day to day. The Internet revolution was in its infancy, cellphones weren't the norm of class struggles. Single working parents in New York without full time help become plot lines for movies. Mae Whitman, who is Lauren Graham's daughter in the tv series Parenthood, is gorgeous George little girl in this flick. And Michelle Pfeiffer, despite the bad hair day, is luminous.

in the area

after the riots and all, London is still utterly cool. like many cosmopolitan cities, it has its problems. sometimes parents forget how to properly raise their kids and the teachers were not the same as my teachers in grade school who subject their students to humiliation by not aiming for the good grades. my mom always screamed for prim and proper behaviour. the world of no Internet and less television was more cleansing to the moral soul  than the information overload and technological advances of today.

but the word is multicultural, that's london, the society and oasis of not merely the clash of lineage and heritage. how do we get the different sectors of the community to work on cohesion? the David Camerons of this world, the over-privileged few, an example of those born sucking on silver spoons, do not have the monopoly on success. some are more inspiring than others and it's still through education and hard work.

flowers diary

almost two months ago, the bloke got me a flower plant for my birthday. the plant is still alive. it's original sparkling red daisies had withered and sprang back to life again, talk about the power of love.

back to regular programme

my week was all about the BBC. talking, writing, being wary of the riots. now, at least i change channels, see the other side of television and i can't wait to read my new book.

our first match is postponed

so what gooners? gloryhunters? stuff happens.

a cry for tuesday

on that Tuesday morning, I had plans, like to see Horrible Bosses at Finchley Road then catch up with Ryan in the afternoon. but the mood that day was pretty sombre and uncertain that I had to postpone my airtight activities. shops were closing early, almost all lexus on display at the car center were taken out of stock, communities such as the one in Clapham were cleaning up the painful mess of the night before. i tuned in to BBC the whole day. we shopped for food and i simply abhor the sight of smashed glass doors at the local supermarket.

during the evening, trouble erupted in other major cities; from the midlands to the northwest. i've been to Manchester several times like during the Pearl Jam Concert in '09 and football at both Old Trafford and City of Manchester Stadium. its city centre is a comforting hub on the way to the Picadilly train station. to think of it being torn apart by lawlessness is appalling. will everything just come to pass? or will society rebuild and learn the essence of right and wrong?

deep, profound breathing

took a break from the blogosphere from the middle of July and the first two weeks of August. it was not necessarily exhaustion from all the thinking and creation of words. i just needed to hibernate, away from reading social media opinions and features. there is always some sort of subtle bitchiness in the web. it's a battleground for competing forces specially twitter and facebook. a rest, really is refreshing.

humming the lullabies

the issue of parenting comes to mind after rioters ran amok across the UK; smashing windows, throwing petrol bombs, wreaking the lives of business owners and ordinary individuals, destroying communities. mostly the youth of today, as young as 11 to as old as those in their thirties, were the images captured on CCTVs and camera phones, seen on television, posted on flickr and you tube.

why do these kids think that stealing and vandalism are okay? where is the moral clarity? there is famine in some parts of the world and they want a flat screen tv? this all boils down to parenting. say what you want about tiger moms but they're the ones who get the job done. i know kids these days have their twitters and tumblrs to air their parental grievances. but children should be pushed to excel and be provided and surrounded with positive forces in their lives.

planned parenting should be the status quo. responsible folks should only have children knowing that they are emotionally and financially equipped to give proper guidance. those are the ideals. but that's better said than done. in my generation, children are used as benchmark for success. my life particularly, is viewed as empty and less remarkable because of my breeding problems. however, the british government don't charge for contraceptive pills prescription. meaning, the brains behind this health move feel that population increase is a deterrent to achieving sound economic gains.

heartbreak

when we had our first lecture here in britain, we were told that the brits, specifically the English are the most well-behaved, well-mannered, refined, civilised people in the world. a week later, during an anthropological night out, there was an in-fighting in the bus on our way home. so the gentle, subtle facade is just an act?

what happened during the past few days is thuggery at its apex. i've tuned in to BBC the whole day. this is no longer about that event in tottenham. this is the simple lack of conscience, young people who were not taught good and proper moral values. one cannot just burglarise and set cars and buildings on fire just for the hell of it. there are consequences in this level of criminality.

to correct one of the young rioters and looters said in the interviewed, the shop owners are not rich. they work hard to build their businesses. the repercussions to the economy, the reputation on the world's stage would be devastating. london is a vibrant, highly-stimulating urban environment. one can certainly breathe its intelligent, multi-cultural air. but there are the very few who have lost their way. could they be rehabilitated? i'm not sure. really, children shouldn't be left out of control.