grays, blacks and browns

"tabatabachingching"

2007-09-12T13:28:00.000+10:00

good break

2007-09-12T00:30:00.000+10:00

when my husband said we're going down south towards kangaroo valley, i didn't really expect much. we've been there before and though i did enjoy the trip that time, we went to the beach instead of hiking up to see some falls. fitzroy falls in fact. nevertheless, it was a welcome break from overseeing the city from our veranda.

we drove for almost three hours to the site (during which i tortured my husband almost the whole time by screaming that i had to have a kidney break). we went from the great big highways to little country towns, through roads barred on both sides by towering trees, or farm houses littered by cows and horses, and finally to roads with hand-written names (but still paved, surprisingly).

the falls were magnificent. the view was overwhelming. the air was fresh and cool, pure, uncontaminated oxygen. breathtaking. we had our lunch and celebrated a colleague's birthday. we laid beside a nearby lake and enjoyed the fresh air while we can.

it was worth the long drive.

footprints in the sand

2007-09-10T10:30:00.000+10:00

The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand, is when I carried you.

____________________________
footprints in the sand by Mary Stevenson

rain, rain, go away...

2007-09-08T08:53:00.000+10:00

you would think spring is all clear skies, sunny but not too much, sweet smell of blooming flowers, fresh grasses and light green leaves. well, not today. nor for the whole long weekend.

yesterday and today are spelled out as R.A.I.N. can't go to the beach for spring picnic or bike riding. it's even depressing to go out and do some grocery shopping.

i've always thought rain has a funereal excrescence. it is terribly oppressive, forcing people to go about their business with such melancholy demeanor. yup, little children can't go out and play.

oh well, the land needs it though. and badly.

so i just look at baby pat and see how busy she was opening her birthday presents.

In search of rain

2007-09-04T08:52:00.000+10:00

After four years of drought in the little village, the parish priest gathered everybody to make a pilgrimage to the mountain; there they would join in communal prayer to ask for rain.

In the middle of the group the priest noticed a boy all wrapped up in warm clothes and covered by a raincoat.

"Are you crazy?" he asked. "It hasn’t rained in this region for five years and you’ll die of the heat climbing the mountain!"

"I’ve got a cold, father. If we are going to pray to God for rain, can you imagine the climb back down? The downpour is going to be so heavy that it’s better to be prepared."

At that very moment a loud roar was heard in the sky and the first drops began to fall. The faith of a boy was enough to work a miracle that thousands of men were praying for.

______________________________

article is from paulo coelho's warrior of the light

photo is from simple things

good morning, sunday!

2007-09-02T06:49:00.000+10:00

i've always liked sunday mornings.

i remember waking up lazily to sunday radios tuned to stations playing abba. then we'd have (very) garlicky fried rice topped with runny eggs and dried fish for breakfast. very yummy indeed. then off we'd go with the neighbourhood kids to play chinese garter or piko (hopscotch) or agawan-base (capture the base) until our mother shouts out to say that lunch is ready.

a couple of decades past and i still love these sunday mornings. i would wake up at 4 in the morning and sit out in the veranda holding my steaming hot chocolate (with a teaspoon of coffee) just to watch the world start to stir and be alive. THAT few hours of standstill is what i call PEACE. stripped of the noises of everyday life, bared of the daytime glare of the sun or the razzle-dazzle lights at night. not even the birds are awake yet.

PEACE. its just me, my coffee, the chilling wind and the sky.

yes, for a few hours, i do not have to think of anything at all.

happy birthday baby pat!!!

2007-09-01T00:03:00.000+10:00

it's the little things that you miss.

"i'm dobby on you"

2007-08-14T13:07:00.000+10:00

As predicted by most, my little zed is adapting very well with his studies and is rapidly developing his vocabulary, what with his school and classmates and dvds and kid-stuff telly.

One night, whilst we were doing his homework, I reprimanded him for doing it hastily just so he could squeeze a bit more into his playtime. He pouted and said, “Mommy, I’m dobby on you!”

I stopped to think. What?! Dobby? Dubby? Dabby? Harry Potter’s house-elf friend Dobby?

I asked him to explain what he said because I just can’t make out what he means. He told me that his classmate said that when he did something wrong and therefore that would have meant something like you did something wrong to me so I’m brooding/sulking.

Could be an Australian slang then?

Unfortunately, I’ve had no luck finding out what that word means even after googling it. Maybe I should just ask his teacher or classmate about it.

Oh well. Since that night, it has become part of our everyday life. Never a day passes without this scene:

Mommy!!! I’m dobby on you.
I’m dobby on you, too.
I’m dobby on you one hundred.
I’m dobby on you one million!
I’m dobby on you one…hundred…thousands…one…million…!

and on it goes.

________________

photo credit

Servant Girl and Grocer’s Boy

2007-08-09T10:29:00.000+10:00

Her lips’ remark was: “Oh, you kid!”
Her soul spoke thus (I know it did):

“O king of realms of endless joy,
My own, my golden grocer’s boy,

I am a princess forced to dwell
Within a lonely kitchen cell,

While you go dashing through the land
With loveliness on every hand.

Your whistle strikes my eager ears
Like music of the choiring spheres.

The mighty earth grows faint and reels
Beneath your thundering wagon wheels.

How keenly, perilously sweet
To cling upon that swaying seat!

How happy she who by your side
May share the splendors of that ride!

Ah, if you will not take my hand
And bear me off across the land,

Then, traveller from Arcady,
Remain awhile and comfort me.

What other maiden can you find
So young and delicate and kind?”

Her lips’ remark was: “Oh, you kid!”
Her soul spoke thus (I know it did).

________________
by Joyce Kilmer

because i have NOTHING to do...

2007-08-08T15:14:00.001+10:00

You are Left-brained!

Most left-brained people like you feel at ease in situations requiring verbal ability, attention to detail, and linear, analytical ability. Whether you know it or not, you are a much stronger written communicator than many, able to get your ideas across better than others.

It's also likely that you are methodical and efficient at many things that you do. You could also be good at math, particularly algebra, which is based on very strict rules that make sense to your logical mind.

____________________
The Brain Test by Tickle

little zed misses lola

2007-07-31T13:00:00.000+10:00

after dinner last night, i went straight to our "isolation room" to prevent my flu virus to spread to my family. i left the rest of the night's work with my husband, including taking care of zed.

apparently, just before going to bed, zed asked for some oatmeal which my husband prepared at once, without even asking me (and why would he ask, right?).

lo and behold! immediately after devouring his milo-flavoured oatmeal, zed felt some prickling sensations on several spots on his back which he didn't pay much attention to apart from scratching them. the itching however kept coming and spreading all over his back, his belly, then his arms and legs. he panicked, and his dad panicked upon seeing the rashes all over his body and went straight to my room hoping i have the answer and cure!

besides telling them to get away from me, i gave zed his allergy medicine.

______________________

later that night, zed told his dad, "daddy, kelan tayo uuwi? miss ko na si lola."

130am

2007-07-30T01:27:00.000+10:00

yup. 130am, monday morning.

i am still awake, messing with my blog's template and widgets and what-nots. tomorrow (or should i say today) is the second to the last day of the month, meaning deadlines, cutoffs, reports, statements.

and i've got the flu.

it's going to be a wonderful week.

_________

cute flu clipart from here

hellos and goodbyes

2007-07-27T10:34:00.000+10:00

what i hate most about going home is the going away again.

three years ago, my family bid me goodbye at the airport full of happiness and goodlucks. i kissed them with sadness that was engulfed by elation, excitement and anticipation. i was finally going away to live my dream! never mind that i was leaving my family, i'd be sending them money anyway so they could build our dreamhouse and buy trinkets they want. in short, the airport scene wasn't that crying-hugging-sniffing sort we usually expect to see.

the homesickness caught up to me after a month though. i missed my mum's cooking. i missed my three-hour rendezvous at starbucks with friends to goss about anybody we could think of. i missed my brothers and sisters and how they bug me with the littlest of things.

eventually, i got tired of thinking about home and immersed myself in a flurry of things to do with school, three jobs, no-free-time, tv, and other minute hobbies to fill my time. i became too busy that three years hence, i never went home even for a holiday.

but it seems the forces had been conniving to make me go back home (or maybe zed's prayers have finally been answered). so finally (albeit unwillingly) i boarded the plane that would take me back to manila.

and what do you know. the moment i saw my sister, i ran to her and hugged her tightly and just let all the tears i have to flow out freely and without reservation. unmindful of that heat wave that closed in on me at 3 in the afternoon. or the pollution. or the faceless people who are barricaded away from their arriving loved ones. or everything else that's characteristic of manila. i am home.

but no matter how short or long my stay was, or how many catching-up i could squeeze into my unplanned visit, i had to go. and this time, the aiport scene was the typical crying-hugging-sniffing corny stuff we see. but it didn't matter. i know i am going to miss my family and i would like to hug and kiss and cry with them before i go.

naalala ko lang habang papasok ako sa trabaho...

2007-07-26T10:58:00.000+10:00

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear
Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair
Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't fuzzy, was he?

_____________________________
Maraming salamat sa aming Fuzzy Wuzzy, Father O'B.
Dahil sa kanya, marunong ako ngayong magsalita ng Ingles
nang may tamang pro-NUN-ciation!
(At sa lahat ng dapat kong ipagpasalamat sa kanya.)

confessions of a squirmy mummy

2007-07-23T14:39:00.000+10:00

whew! a toast to us for surviving zed's first week in his new school! now i understand why those silly mums rant over the radio about sending their sons/daughters on the first day of school! it was indeed scary, to say the least.

for starters, you worry about how your child is going to fit in with his classmates. and with zed starting school during the third term, i keep thinking it would be hard for him to make friends since those kindies have made their own groups of friends already.

flashback to my own elementary days when a newbie is transferred into our class from a different one or even a different school. we'd be warm and friendly, of course, but there's still that awkward feeling.

what more with zed who barely speaks and understand english? even with all the assurances of my own friends and family that children usually adapt very well with their new environment, it still gives me the jitters.

and then there's the school rules. no chocolates for lunch. no nutella sandwiches. never share your baon with anyone because you never know if your friends have allergies to the food you give them. always wear this. never wear that. no jumping and hopping and running.

now how am i supposed to make a 5-year-old understand that? a 5-year old boy who never fail to make me sick with worry when we go to the supermarket for all the running and jumping and hiding he does?

as i found out soon enough, it wasn't that hard at all! i speak with zed's teacher every morning at their assembly line and she says he's doing pretty well with the school activities, even ahead than the other children since he's had two years of formal schooling previously. he's adapting to the routines and activities, and there are a few filo kids as well who understand tagalog even if they can't speak it well.

and i am learning quite a bit about the australian way of schooling too, which is quite different from what i am used to. easier, for one. no everyday assignment, only weekly ones, which are comparable to that daily pinoy homework. one whole day of studying (9am to 3pm) is one subject.

mondays are art days, tuesdays are spelling and reading, wednesdays are nature (science) days, thursdays are gymnastics, and fridays are fun days.

hmmm. one whole day of drawing and painting and messing about? one whole day of P.E.? THAT would have been put to good use while i was in college, especially since i always use up my cuts for P.E.!

and a fun day? i wonder what they do then (i'm guessing math day? hehehe). i wonder what would happen if we had the same schedule in elementary. i reckon it would have been more fun than our one-hour-math, one-hour-science, one-hour-M.A.P.E, etc schedule.

oh, and yes, the lunchpack. i gave him steamed rice and fried chicken on his first day, his usual baon during his nursery and kinder years in nclc. it turned out he's the only one who's got rice for lunch! so much for blending in, huh.

into week two now. i'm still fidgety but considerably less than last week.

faith enough?

2007-07-23T14:26:00.000+10:00

the ice is thin enough for walkin'
the rope is worn enough to climb
throat is dry enough for talkin'

storm is wild enough for sailing
bridge is weak enough to cross
this body frail enough for fighting
i'm home enough to know i'm lost

land unfit enough for planting
barren enough to conceive
poor enough to gain the treasure
enough a cynic to believe

confused enough to know direction
sun eclipsed enough to shine
be still enough to finally tremble
see enough to know i'm blind

it's just enough to be strong
in the broken places
should the world rely on faith tonight

- jars of clay's faith enough

disappear

2007-07-23T14:00:00.000+10:00

i watch you smile
you steal the show
you take a bow
the curtain falls in front of you
you're magical, on display
i gaze into your eyes
and you turn to look the other way.

but i'd really love to know
i'd really love to climb my way
into your heart
and see what i could find.

i'd walk into your skin
swim through your veins
see it from your eyes
cause i'd really love to try.

standing still
but my mind is trying to escape
looking for a place to hide
it's not safe but i'm so near
invading every place you go to disappear

i'd walk into your skin
swim through your veins
see it from your eyes
i'd really love to try
i'd really love to know
i'd really wanna to climb into your soul

i want to get inside the you that you are hiding from.

- jars of clay's disappear

reunited

2007-07-18T13:10:00.000+10:00

exactly five years ago to this day,

we were at the airport bidding goodbye.

tonight, we are eating dinner together. finally.

all grown up

2007-04-20T17:02:00.000+10:00

(and then there were four)

ambivalence

2007-04-13T13:08:00.000+10:00

Going home. Is it really like this for everyone?

My heart skips two beats at a time. My stomach's confused about what it ought to do: it keeps churning even if it shouldn't. My feet are heavy, almost as if they would rather stay where they're at. My hands are trembling, my palms sweaty. My thoughts never been as swirling. Like a mixture of fruits in a blender prepared for a smoothie, you can never tell which fruit is which.

Some thoughts would want to make me cry. Some make me dread the inevitable touchdown and even make me wish that I die right here and now, here, in the presence of tranquil clouds unmindful of my existence. It is but one part of my life after all. As Chris Gardner had done in the pursuit of his own "happyness", maybe I could name this part of my life "stupidity", but nevertheless rise up from such state and continue my own pursuit, hoping that eventually, I would arrive at the end victorious. But walking this road of uncertainty is as hard as I could have ever asked for. I have reached the dead ends. The only way to go to the other side is to climb this tall and sturdy wall in front of me, with nothing but my heavy feet and trembling, sweaty hands for weapons.

But then I would remember Santiago who never stopped until he reached his Pyramids, which would again give some kind of hope. Maybe, just maybe, if I meet a gypsie, and a king, and an alchemist, they would show me the way to climb the wall, and point out the weapons that I have all along.

But for now, I am left with this turmoil. A battle within. While the plane starts to descend.

mag-ingat. magsikap lumigaya.

2007-03-20T11:53:00.000+11:00

second semester, first year college. sa mga kapwa ko gabayano unang narinig ang mga salitang "maganda ang buhay". kung tatanungin mo ang mga gabayano kung ano ang motto nila (tulad ng tinatanong sa mga slumbook noong elementary), malamang marami sa amin na iyan ang ilalagay. di nagtagal, nalaman ko na rin ang buong kasaysayan ng mga salitang ito. isang kuya ang nagbigay sakin ng salin ng Desiderata sa Tagalog. mula noon, palagi na akong nagtatago ng kopya nito saan man. at heto, gusto ko rin syang ilagay dito.

Humayo nang panatag
Sa gitna ng ingay at pagmamadali, at tandaang
May kapayapaang matatagpuan sa katahimikan.
Hangga’t maaari nang walang pagsuko,
Makipagkapwa-tao.
Bigkasin ang iyong katotohanan nang mahinahon at
Malinaw, at makinig sa iba, kahit sa mapurol o mangmang:
Sila ma’y may kanilang salaysayin.

Iwasan ang mga taong maingay at magaspang; sila’y
Nakakarindi sa diwa.
Kung ihahambing mo ang sarili sa iba, maaaring
Maging hambog at masamain ang loob pagka’t
Laging may hihigit sa iyo at may hihigtan ka.
Masiyahan ka sa iyong mga natamo, gayundin sa iyong mga balak.
Manatiling buhos ang iyong kalooban sa mga gawain, gaano man
Kababa; tunay itong kayamanan sa nagbabagong panahon.
Maging maingat sa pakikipagkalakalan pagka’t ang mundo’y
Batbat ng panlilinlang. Subalit huwag hayaang
Makabulag ito sa iyon sa anumang kabutihang mayroon; maraming
Nagpupunyagi para sa mga adhikaing dakila; at sa lahat ng dako,

Ang buhay ay lipos ng kabayahinan.
Huwag magkunwari laluna ng pagmamahal.
Huwag ding tatalikuran ang pag-ibig, pagka’t sa gitna ng
Katigangan at kalungkutan, kailanma’y uusbong
At nabubuhay itong tulad ng damo.
Maluwag na tanggapin ang payo ng katandaan; banayad
Na isuko ang mga bagay ng kamusmusan.
Arugain ang tibay ng loob na sasalag sa mga biglaang
Sakuna. Ngunit huwag panlulumo sa mga guni-guni.
Maraming takot ang dulot ng pagod at kalungkutan.
Sa kabila ng malusog na disiplina, maging mabait sa iyong sarili.

Anak ka ng sanlibutan, tulad ng mga punungkahoy at bituin;
May lugar ka rito. At malinaw man sa iyo o hindi,
Walang alinlangang bumubukadkad ang daigdig ayon sa nararapat
Kaya maging panatag ka sa Diyos, anuman ang pagkakakilala mo sa kanya,
At anuman ang iyong mga gawain at mithiin, sa maingay na
Kalituhan ng buhay, panatilihin mong panatag ang iyong kalooban.
Sa kabila ng panlilinlang, kawalang-buhay at mga gumuguhong pangarap,
Maganda pa rin ang mundo.

Mag-ingat. Magsikap lumigaya.

(salin sa Tagalog ng Desiderata ni Max Ehrmann)

half year anniversary

2007-03-16T14:47:00.000+11:00

it has been exactly six months since my last post here. i cannot believe i have been that busy. because i haven't. i was just procrastinating. i kept putting everything off. but i was a little busy, yes.

since my last entry here, i have finished my studies and am now due to graduate this may. i have also finished two years of backlog on our financial statements, so, with thanks to the gods of high heavens, we are now up-to-date. lastly, i've been busy with creating our website! mind you, i am starting from scratch! i had to learn photoshop, dreamweaver, html, and all those what-nots, to figure out how to create a stupid elementary website! and i had to cram them in two months!

but all those have been done so, here i am, ready to move on and relax a for a while.

(photo from here)

when flowers lie

2006-09-15T11:10:00.000+10:00

flowers atop your cradle on high
like crowns of weathered royalties
attempting to be as blue,
infuse an aroma
of the sweet smells of spring,
forever entangled in odours unascertained
or do you, in truth, cover such disdain?

flowers atop your cradle on high
such beautiful petals you have.
indeed,
to attract more of them ignoramus
who at times try to be ingenious.

and so you may,
while still sitting prettily
while still smelling sweetly
devour them
hungrily.

flowers atop your cradle on high

a flower
atop
my cradle
on high,
i sit still
feigning
my beauty,
my fullness.

but i know
that red is really blue
and white is truly black.

and so i sit
contentedly
silently
and await
the innocent one
who will again
see me,
me,
a flower atop my cradle on high

_________________________________________
photo coutesy of galleria carnivora

who would have thought?

2006-09-15T10:27:00.000+10:00

You Are a Normal Girl

You are 50% Good and 50% Bad
Sure you've pulled some bad girl stunts in your past.
But these days, you're (mostly) a good girl.

Are You a Good Girl or a Bad Girl?

swoon moment

2006-09-06T12:23:00.000+10:00

"christmas" or "end-of-year" party?

2006-08-23T10:47:00.000+10:00

from ChurchMice

(sigh...sad mode on)

How I would love to spend Pasko in the Philippines! At least there, Christ is not taken out of Christmas (at least for most, I believe). And "Merry Christmas" is not called "Happy Holidays." And Christmas carols are played over the radio on the "ber" months.(sigh and huge pout)Christmas parties, exchange gifts, Kris-Kringle, Monito-Monita. Santa Claus, Christmas trees, socks, Noche Buena, cold Christmas mornings.

Here? Christmas is NOT Christmas. It is the summer holidays. This is how we spend Chirstmas Day (Ooops, should be December 25...hope the Political Correctness Police don't know how to read blogs):

(photo from ShaneMacdonald.org)

Yes, as unbelievable as it is, we spend the day at the beach. Not at home to wait for inaanaks complete with left over food from Noche Buena and well-thought-out presents. Not even at friends' houses to chat the day away. Definitely not those.

December is one of the hottest months in Australia. Some days would reach up to 45deg. And it isn't the same heat as what we have back home. Here, you can actually feel the sun trying to peel through your skin, and I imagine, if we are just made up of combustible material, we'd have bursted quite easily like those LPG-converted cars (or DELL batteries, hehehe). No wonder a lot of Aussies develop skin cancer.

Suffice it to say, Christmas at the southern hemisphere, in a multicultural country, is totally different from what I have been brought up to believe. Christmas is supposed to be characterised by snow, beautiful white surroundings, chimneys with fresh dust from Santa Claus' early morning visit, of "people making lists, buying special gifts, taking time to be kind to one and all...It's the time of year when good friends are near, everywhere, there's an air of Christmas joy." Nobody said that in other parts of the globe, they celebrate the Christmas season with a barrage of political correctness agendas with beers and barbies along the beach!

(sigh and pout again) I think some kind of cultural shock is taking its toll on me. Or maybe I just miss home.

Which reminds me, I ought to book for a ticket immediately! Otherwise, I'm a goner who won't experience Pinoy Pasko until next year.

of neighbours and falling trees

2006-08-22T20:23:00.000+10:00

And falling tree it was.

My boss had been having this drama with his eighty-odd year old retired and lonely neighbour who does nothing else but annoy everyone else in the area. One time, my boss was preening his garden of those pesky little weeds (oh, not the illegal ones) when this neighbour came up to him and offered his help as there was nothing else to do (it was a lazy Sunday afternoon in Sydney... read: boring!) . My boss, being the ever-friendly and ever-tolerable 40-year-old that he was, accepted such gracious offer. Little did he know that this neighbour of his had long been annoyed of his uncoordinated garden so made this opportunity to re-landscape the area! So, instead of just tidying up the garden, he uprooted the plants which, to him, were a tiny bit misplaced and ineptly planted. Maybe he was fantasizing about being a member of Backyard Blitz? Who knows.

As ill-fortuned as the Boudelaire children can be, my boss lived next door to this bothersome neighbour. And with those little vexing episodes laying the base for an ultimate incident that would break any kind of bond between these two gentlemen (like a blanched silverbeet bunch that serves as the bed for the various-herb-marinated lamb steak...pardon my analogy but I am starving right now), they finally culminated with the falling tree incident. Mr. Neighbour was irritated with this pine tree of my boss only because a few of its branches extended over the dividing fence, albeit way above it; way above his roof even. Not too much of a trouble, yes, but Mr. Neighbour claims, and appropriately so, that it was invading his airspace. As the Latin maxim goes, Cuius est solum, ejus est usque ad caelen et ad inferos--'he who possesses land also possesses that which is above it as far as the heavens and that which is below it to the centre of the earth.' (Round 1: a point for Mr. Neighbour).

To prevent anymore skirmishes that weren't worth a dime, my boss trimmed those problem branches. But no, being retired and alone and a little loony, Mr. Neighbour wanted the whole tree cut, not just the branches! But that was a ripe, old, endangered-species pine tree, maybe even as old as he was! All the same, he would not accept any excuses, thus kept on bugging my boss who would not give in to that pressure. Until one day, as he was about to drive off for work, he noticed that sign on the tree which said "DANGER FALLING TREE!"

Underneath that sign, almost half of the tree's bark was cut in such a way that a hard gust of wind could unbalance the tree and the part that still held it together would give up and so the tree would fall right onto my boss' house! That morning turned out to be made up of unprecedented commotion, from the Council's men to firefighters, from fire trucks to huge cranes, from solicitors to Mr. Neighbour admitting that he was the one who cut that tree, and they finally cut that blessed tree down.

End of story? NO! My boss had three other trees along that fence line that Mr. Neighbour had his eyes on! And he threatened that he will do the same to those trees when he had the opportunity. Imagine how freaky you would get? Well, extremely FREAKED OUT—that's what my boss had been. He would wake up in the middle of the night when he heard some hubbub outside, which would turn out to be nothing but a couple of possums wooing each other (in that possum-ly manner). Anyway, I would be freaked out o'ryt!

The denouement? He appealed to the local magistrate for a restraining order against Mr. Neighbour. Though I'm not that sure if that would even work. Mr. Neighbour might even gladly welcome the company of the guards in jail, coupled with free board and lodging in those hotel-like cells. After all, what is that compared to his four-bedroom-two-storey property which hones in on his loneliness? At least, boss would have some peace at last.

Aaaargh, the dangers of a falling tree.

caught in childishness

2006-08-21T09:34:00.000+10:00

ok, so i'm nearly thirty and i still love watching children's shows. i remember my father asking me to stop watching cartoon soap operas (nelo, princess sarah, etc.) back in college, he said i'm too old for those kinds of shows. yet here i am, spending my monday morning in front of the telly, laughing, singing and dancing with....(dyaran!)

maybe, there is some psychoanalytical dimension to my obssession with cartoons (note: not just animes or simpsons or other for-adults-only cartoons, but bob-the-builder types). or maybe i am a psycho? nevertheless, i still enjoy harmony and raphsody's "dancing the sleep away" song as well as "the fairy dance time" and even their good bye song. they are so cute and cheery and a real good start to a gloomy day.

ummm...food blog?

2006-08-19T13:45:00.000+10:00

finally, here are the fotos of the stuff i cooked last vacation.

here's my palabok. it was a little salty, but still, when you haven't tasted palabok for two years, it was still the best palabok ever.

this is the pinoy-style sweet spaghetti. talap!

this one is my favorite. it's a grilled tuna steak with creamy mashed potato and steamed asparagus, carrots and green beans topped with diane sauce (usually used for grilled beef).

this one is the picadillos (giniling) which i really enjoyed. i discovered that the key to this recipe are the crunchy red and green bell peppers.

this lemon chicken is something different. but i loved it as well.

this is the baked fish with sweet and sour veggies (na hulaan kung sweet ba o sour?). hulaan pati kung asan yung isda. hehehe.

and ito ang pinakanamiss ko...tapsilog! sobra. heaven.

brunette

2006-08-18T15:21:00.000+10:00

i've just updated my blog template!
--
and i'm loving her red hair.
--

grinning like a shot fox :)

2006-08-18T10:33:00.000+10:00

yay! got my dsl back at home, after a gruelling one month of dial up! finally, i can enjoy the comfy of lightning speed downloads and uploads again.

i've also just redeemed my credit card reward points for a new breville esp8b cafe roma espresso machine! woo hoo! can't wait for it to be delivered...then enjoy a freshly brewed coffee with overflowing frothy milk from the comforts of my home! i think i should also buy a new couch then dim the lights around the lounge...just for the overall cafe effect. hmmm....next project, i guess!

seven weeks, cooks and cameras

2006-08-03T09:48:00.000+10:00

it's the start of another semester, hopefully my last in this particular course. i've had quite a lot of adventures over the seven-week break, doing basic housewife things such as budgeting, planning the meal for the whole week, shopping for the ingredients for that week, and cooking those planned meals on designated days. it was quite enjoyable, like a roleplaying performance, knowing that it would only last for the winter break, then back again to the usual whatever-is-in-the-fridge-if-none-then-take-away routine.

i know that neither cooking nor baking is a forte of mine, but getting the goal quite right at the end makes me a happy person. there had been bad attempts, and a little too many i suppose, such as the leche flan which is, indeed, leche! or the baked fish with (supposedly) sweet and sour veggies but turned out to be neither sweet nor sour. nevertheless, with me cooking for seven long weeks everyday, there were bound to be good ones (thank God!). and so we enjoyed eating palabok, pinoy-sweet-style spaghetti with italian-style garlic bread, picadillos (though i always called this "giniling"), chili crab (oriental style), sinigang sa miso na ulo ng tuna, third-attempt leche flan, pancakes with maple syrup (though the pancakes were made using a pancake shake mix...just add water!), nasi goreng (indonesian fried rice), and, of course, what i crave the most, tapsilog (tapa queen style! yummm!!!)!

because i haven't got anything to do during those vacation weeks, i also decided to get into photography. i downloaded lessons over the internet and attended an hour-long class. though i know that there wasn't any chance i would reach even the five-steps-away-from-a-professional stage, i was able to celebrate my two filling-the-time carreer. thus, i happily took photos of the dishes that i cooked (only those which were successfully done) and i can definitely say that i enjoyed it.

so, here i am, on the first week of my spring semester, celebrating what i have accomplished, wishing there could be another week to just cook and take photos. i know that in the future, i would look back to this, my almost-two-months winter break when i became an amateur cook and amateur photographer. wonder if i can write that in my cv?

cheers.

found a long lost friend! yey!

2006-07-28T13:15:00.000+10:00

i've been enjoying our little chats

which have been 10 years overdue.

hope to hear from you a lot soon.

good luck with...everything!

it's a loverly, loverly spring!

2006-07-10T13:56:00.000+10:00

Bum buttery, flit fluttery
Dum diddly-ooh
Bum Buttery, bluebird
Is singing a tune.

Daffy-down-dillies awaken
And prune
Bursting in bloom
All the flowers assume
It's a loverly, loverly spring.

Chit-chattery chipmunks
All singing along,
Humming their
Join-in-a-spring-along song.

Spring is the springiest time
For a song
It's a loverly, loverly spring.
In the forest we play
With the rabbits all day--

______________________________________

the result of watching
Wimbledon 2006 and
Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events
on the onset of winter.

think of me first as a person

2006-07-06T12:01:00.000+10:00

by Rita Dranginis

You look at me with pity,
concern or indifference,
for I am a retarded child.
But you only see the outside of me.
If I could express myself,
I would tell you what I am inside.

I am very much like you.
I feel pain and hunger.
I cannot ask politely
for a glass of water, but I know
parched dry feeling of thirst.
I itch when mosquitoes bite me
and run when I see a bee.
I feel cozy drinking cocoa in the kitchen
when a snowstorm blusters outside.

I had a heaviness inside
when I left my mother
to board the minibus for school.
My eyes darted back and forth, seeking escape
but knowing there was none.
When my sister takes me to the playground
and children call me names,
she cries and takes me home.
Then I feel warm and dizzy,
and it is hard for me to breathe.
Mother's eyes are wet; she hold me and tells me a story, and
I forget the children's jeers.
When I dress myself and
Mother pats my head, saying, "Good job,
Jim!" I feel...big. As big as Greg,
who goes to second grade.

I am a child-
in age now, and in ability always.
I find the touch of soft toys
and snuggly dogs comforting.
I love the toys of childhood-
a kite, a balloon, a wagon to pull
I like to let go at the top of a slide
and after dizzy seconds find myself at the bottom.
I like sleds on soft snow,
the wetness of rain on my forehead.

Though it is comfortable to be babied,
I am less dependent
when people treat me as a big boy.
I don't want their sympathy.
I want their respect for what I can do.
I am slow, and many things
you take for granted are hard for me.
I can hardly understand
what "tomorrow" means.
It took months to learn
to pedal the tall blue tricycle,
but I was so proud when at last
both feet pedaled in the same direction
and the wheels went forward.
How happy I was
when I turned on the right faucet
to get a drink of water.
I didn't want to ever turn it off.
If I can learn at my own pace and still be accepted,
I can fit into a world where slowness is suspect.

Think of me first as a person,
who hurts and loves and feels joy.
And know I am a child to encourage and direct.
Smile, and say hello-
even that is enough.

dirty hands

2006-07-06T11:48:00.000+10:00

by John P. Delaney S.J.

I'm proud of my dirty hands. Yes, they are dirty. And they are rough and knobby and calloused. And I'm proud of the dirt and the knobs and the callouses. I didn't get them that way by playing bridge or drinking afternoon tea out of dainty cups, or playing the well-advertised Good Samaritan at charity balls.

I got them that way by working with them, and I'm proud of the work and the dirt. Why shouldn't I feel proud od the work they do – these dirty hands of mine?

My hands are the hands of plumbers, of truckdrivers and street cleaners; of carpenters; engineers, machinists and workers in steel. They are not pretty hands, they are dirty and knobby and calloused. But they are strong hands, hands that make so much that the world must have or die.

Someday, I think, the world should go down on its knees and kiss all the dirty hands of the working world, as in the days long past, armored knights would kiss the hands of ladies fair. I'm proud of my dirty hands. The world has kissed such hands. The world will always kiss such hands. Men and women put reverent lips to the hands of Him who held the hammer and the saw and the plane. His weren't pretty hands either when they chopped trees, dragged rough lumber, and wielded carpenter's tools. They were workingman's hands – strong, capable proud hands. And weren't pretty hands when the executioners got through them. They were torn right clean through by ugly nails, and the blood was running from them, and the edges of the wounds were raw and dirty and swollen; and the joints were crooked and the fingers were horribly bent in a mute appeal for love.

They weren't pretty hands then, but, O God, they were beautiful – those hands of the Savior. I'm proud of those dirty hands, hands of my Savior, hands of God.

And I'm proud of my hands too, dirty hands, like the hands of my Savior, the Hands of my God!

hallelujah

2006-07-05T14:58:00.000+10:00

I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah,
Hallelujah
Hallelujah,
Hallelujah

Maybe I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah,
Hallelujah
Hallelujah,
Hallelujah

There was a time
You let me know
What's real and going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you?
The holy dark was moving to
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah,
Hallelujah
Hallelujah,
Hallelujah
Maybe
there's
a god
above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
And it's not a cry you can hear at night,
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

________________________________________________
rufus wainwright

L - Learner

2006-06-28T10:31:00.000+10:00

P - we went and stopped the world
to make a world of our own
and realised how that could
R - reverse out fate.
But we strived on until we reach a
N - neutral ground so we can
D - drive on. And then we
3 - accelerated to achieve what
we dreamed of: we,
2 - you and me; and
1 - our dream.

________________
24/06/06
castlecrag, nsw

opportunity

2006-06-21T12:02:00.000+10:00

And so it goes another lonely day
Your savin time but your miles away
Your fly was drownin in some bitter tea
For seeing lost opportunity

Find your mirror go and look inside
And see the talent you always hide
Don't go kid yourself well not today
Satisfaction's not to far away

Hold on now your exits here
It's waiting just for you
Don't pause too long
It's fading now
It's ending all too soon you'll see
Soon you'll see

Your coffee's warm but your milk is sour
Life is short but your here to flower
Dream yourself along another day
Never miss opportunity

Don't be scared of what you cannot see
Your only fear is possibility
Never wonder what the hell went wrong
Your second chance may never come along

Hold on now your exits here
It's waiting just for you
Don't pause too long
It's fading now
It's ending all too soon you'll see
Soon you'll see

Hold on now your exits here
It's waiting just for you
Don't pause too long
It's fading now
It's ending all too soon you'll see
Soon you'll see

2006-06-14T16:49:00.000+10:00

trial...then error.