halt at 22

supposed to write at least 25 posts for november.  but my flesh is too weak, my bum too lazy, my mind too shallow to even think.

learning how to sew

able to revisit this article from JZ.  reminds me of my desire to learn how to bake my very own pandan cake.  me, baking?  miracles do happen.

i also like to sew my own dress.  i've learned from high school home economics that a blouse or a dress has a much simpler patterns than creating a pair of trousers from scratch.  i'll  start with simple cross stitch. 

the holiday

i wasn't fond of traveling prior to this year.  the encumbrances of expenses, packing, getting lost in translation weren't delightful prospects for some ancient waif  from an unknown corner of this universe.  i don't know what changed, the trip to Spain?  the few days in Malta, maybe, where i wish i could have brought better clothing.

blazing on empty

i've hardly scribbled anything this month. it's December in a few hours. my mood is neither upbeat nor gloomy, maybe somewhere in between the two or whatever the shrieks and whispers in the horizons.

i'm clearly affected by the seasonal affective disorder. it's sad, sad, sad? i'm mostly weak in the flesh, i'd rather indulge in the comforts of pillows and sheets. i've recorded a lot of stuff on the telly but i can't bear to watch them. i don't have the time. i crave for a good conversation.

buzz kill

(sea trout grilled, saffron, pea and squid risotto, cress)

any one who knows me intimately is aware of my scorn and abhorrence of parties, especially a roomful of strangers. yes, some weddings and christenings are awkward.

i was plus one in the hubby's Christmas party Friday. a Christmas do in November is the most convenient time for the multi-disciplinary cluster, so the date was set. there was wine and three courses. i learned a lot from the event by just listening, hardly ever talking. there was merriment and laughter.

i wonder if we'll have a work  do.

there's another one during the weekend by TOPPERS. i look forward to the secret santini portion of the program.

for Ryan

 won't call it a leaving do. ryan moving to Norfolk may be news to some people, ry being the poster boy of all things fun. however as bo said, he's following his heart. ohh, sweet. it's just to catch a glimpse before he becomes an ex-Londoner.


yes, the bloggers Tuesday evening outnumbered the non-bloggers, which is the greatest thing in the entire world. we should all just write, period. my blogger friends are cool. the perversity of them being so few is beyond reason.

back to the sushi dinner, jeanette e. suggested hi sushi. just waited for the hubby (twitterer not blogger. twittow?) to say yes to the food. he doesn't like fish, fruits and desserts (goodness). tried to invite a few forces behind the clique, i didn't get a reply. aaah, bitchy issues. sssh for that.

but to ry, cheers! see you later. but read you always.

return to the fold

after a year of hiatus, my highly-articulate friend is back to her blogging digs. she's still the same, joy, relatable, a keen observer of people and pop culture. hope she continues to write and write.

in the company of others

we all have different definitions of fabulous people to spend our glorious time.  i'm mostly misery loves company.  there shouldn't be this, there shouldn't be that, or i will be just having a tortured time in hell.  but i don't throw that many tantrums despite the discomfort. be cool and calm, i whisper to my super boring ego. the sun will rise tomorrow as the annoying panache to a drivel, says.

bad company?  i'd rather read a book.

so what is bad company? persons who may or may not mean it, simply lacks kindness. as a word,  kind is broad and vastly-under-rated and contrary to most people's opinions, it's not too common.  hijacking  somebody's break with a know-it-all lecture is not being kind (but learned something highly-substantial). i'd rather be in the company of the understandable bitch.

another bad company is one i've written just in august. big hurray to the power of linking!

next is the lack of humility.  it could be interpreted in every angle known to the human race.


you just know when you're friends. duh? if only we all read the same books and indulge in the same humdrum undertakings, i'e. staying home and staring at the empty boxes of adidas trainers. that would be immense.

two paintings

i really love these paintings.

both are now in my possession.

thanks tita wan for the discounts.

thanks the hubby for buying them for me.

in this blog, we first glimpsed them  here  and here.

all i need to do is find the right frames.

peeves

--three pm sunset
--packed trains
--packed lifts
--vacuous conversations
--melted snow
--gaining weight
--fiery temperaments
--unanswered texts and e-mails

sigh, sigh

my blogress app still couldn't download the save posts.
grrr!
there's a solution out there somewhere in these vast universe and all other universes.

sleep in darkness

it's dark, it's not even four pm yet. behold the onset of winter.  there are chores waiting in earnest.  the life of the sublunary despondency.   i'm not quite yawning.

enjoying house now

it's way better without cuddy. the new team's dynamic is also a breath of fresh air.

a loss is a win, is a win

it was a frustrating pacquiao match. he wasn't sharp with his hooks and forgot to connect with precise combinations. his movements were lethargic. but he won. his detractors were like swearing in unison and posting those annoying emoticons in their forums.

boxing is the most brutal of sport, imagine being punched to the head. in a boxer's career, it only takes one dynamic punch, one mind-numbing knockout by the opponent, a reputation is ruined for eternity.

with this latest debacle, oops triumph, kudos are given to the diaspora in my hemisphere for waking up early to see the match, for my brother up north, driving to gingging's (it rhymes) at the wee hours, for the hubby staying crazily up all night, claiming he's mental.  yeah, right.  he does this every pacquiao match, he got to support to something of mine, he says. let's take his word for it.

spreading good cheers

our colleague elena retired on friday (food spread courtesy of diane). one person who can afford early convalescent, away from the stressors of people, heavy workloads and nags. i mentioned to her in passing to embrace technology, join twitter, activate her facebook, write a blog, do a podcast.  but email is  the extent of  her web fascination. she has other ideas, maybe not involving cross stitching or penning a novel.  it's mostly driving a car to someday navigate the enitre sarawak region in malaysia or something to that effect.  or merely just having dinner with friends every now and then.  where's the party?

rouse

i have to type this fast, as multi-dimensional blogging is not available in my phone.  the app is misbehaving.  let get this fixed during downtime.

at this very juncture, let's just reinvigorate and read.

and curse the factions and the mob.

back to page

mostly sleepy this week.  waking up short of midday is embarrassing. but what can i do?

another AFK

back to tetris basically.

reading.
contemplating.
procrastinating (aagh).

hide, seek, run down the stairs

was invited to sam's birthday gathering by his mom julie, she texted me the address and all. but with autumn darkness twisting my emotions (as if),  the hubby pleading exhaustion and with  supposed companion G having her own soiree for baby daughter, i begged off from jul's event.  hope jul's won't kill me next time she sees me in the changing room.

at G's, it's all of the same, i'm the only one invited from work (just by accidentally phoning her in the morning), almost every single guest were friends from kindergarten all the way to capping and pinning ceremonies.  that has been the case since the birth of first child, her son, three and a half years ago.  i have one of  G's female buddies, whom i've met several times on several milestone occasions, still asking my name, my presence, my marital status and if i've spawned any offsprings, again.  being a work colleague i guess, i see G more often than inquisitive childhood and school friend.  every time G and her hubby celebrate a do held at their abode (excluding the two christenings at the community center) during their son's first and second birthdays, and now baby daughter's first candle-blowing experience, i feel like crashing unto a tight-knit club. the kids, who are friendlier than the adults, run around the stairs like headless chicken. in fairness, G sat next to me the whole 10 minutes i was observed  sitting in a corner looking for updates on twitter and ryan's blog.

after penning the above paragraph,  i decided to backread on pieces i've composed  about parties and friends and found this, what i wrote after attending jen's do. navigate and meet new people? sure.

here's another one written in May, before jan joined us in blogger.

half and half

once of these days i will try to interview kids who grew up outside of RP, not necessarily multi-racial, just raised outside the pearl of the orient seas who had to go through a multi-lingual, multi-cultural environment, knowing that their parents or one of their parents had a kind of different upbringing. 

darren criss is half-filipino.  i hear him sing tony's song something's coming on glee, i feel goosebumps.  west side story is one of my favorite movies.  that's how camp and gay i am, babe and i mean my babe. criss' version is even better than jimmy bryant's, the voice singer of the film.

aside from making his broadway debut,  replacing daniel radcliffe in how to succeed in business without really trying for a limited run. darren criss now models for uniqlo, the brand that keeps me warm.


and as a word and adjective, with its resonance and timbre, i like convivial.

sibilance

can hear my hissing sounds. can hear my heart beating. was supposed to go shopping with car's. both of us fell asleep. no worries. let her bake the cake for her friend's birthday.

speaking of friends, was able to retrieve my shoulder bag from Honey, who had the good graces to collect it from John Lewis in Kingston. forgot my bag in the cafeteria at nearly closing time a day before my birthday in June, a day after Honey's birthday. she rang the establishment and picked it up because i don't live near the area. the contents were just reading matters for that day's train travel, for good grief  i'll just stare at the scenery the full half an hour. it took me four months to claim the bag including Honey and Roy's birthday present for me.

my Virginia Woolf book ( a room of one's own) was in the bag. i was halfway through the paperback, a few hundred pages of her chastising her era of women needing a room of one's own in order to write. i've scanned through easy two non-fiction since then, autobiographical accounts and essays, which not too-severely deflated my self-esteem. i have to polish my verbal skills.

then there's the drumbeats of primark, which a label-whore golden baldie frowns upon as if he's selected the best shags ever or wears prada all the time. boy bawang kicks ass, man.

pulling time

it's only autumn and i got sick, coughing and bed bound. my back ached and decubitus ulcers developed from a prolonged horizontal positon. i was weakened, both in flesh and spirit. let's leave this blank for a while and a few hours.