Bono has it so very right.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Yoo Hoo! You Too?
It's not the best time in the world to up and leave for a couple of days, but hey...when is it ever? Going down under to see Bono and hang with friends. Hopefully the weather holds up...
Monday, October 30, 2006
One Halloween
After almost seven years in Singapore, I took a ride on the Halloween Bus.
What's that? It's basically the official form of transport on Halloween Saturday for those in Singapore who enjoy getting dressed up in the scary costume of their choice and hopping from bar to bar in pursuit of inebriation. Or at least till their eyes are so frighteningly bloodshot, their faces no longer need paint for additional terrifying effects. The happenstance of why I came to be on that bus was a hen night for the fiancee of a friend. I can think of no other circumstances that would have induced me to go on such a spree, otherwise.
So there I was, completely wide-eyed and sober, sitting in the first empty seat I could find: a lone leopard with giraffe ears separated from my fellow leopards and zebras. Next to me was a guy who's costume I simply didn't get. (He was in a navy pin striped suit and wore a hat. When I asked what he was supposed to be, he looked all haughty and offended. "I'm in the mafia," he muttered disdainfully. The thing is, I felt he was more pimp than godfather. Of course, I refrained from telling him that.
Anyway, the sureal high point was when someone in the front of the bus started coming down the aisle toward me. He was frightening. He wore an under shirt, was barefoot, had scary black circles around his eyes and walked a little like a hunchback, with a shuffling gait. I looked at him and thought: Oh my gosh, it's Gollum from LOTR.
"Noelle? Noelle?" Gollum called out as he approached...coming nearer and nearer to me. I froze. I had no idea who he was.
Only when his face was just inches from mine did I recognise him. An out of context young colleague from my new office.
"What are you doing on the bus?" he asked me with palpable incredulity.
And boy, that's when I felt it. I don't know for sure how he meant it. But I was sure of what I felt. The unmistakable sense that I did not belong. I was officially old. And that spooked me. I felt like an imposter whose mask was pulled off. By Gollum. Tricksy, tricksy, tricksy...
The next day, I discovered, my colleague wasn't even Gollum. He was actually (so he explained) a character from some Japanese horror flick - a boy that had drowned and came back to haunt his home. I told him it didn't matter. He had scared me half to death all the same.
What's that? It's basically the official form of transport on Halloween Saturday for those in Singapore who enjoy getting dressed up in the scary costume of their choice and hopping from bar to bar in pursuit of inebriation. Or at least till their eyes are so frighteningly bloodshot, their faces no longer need paint for additional terrifying effects. The happenstance of why I came to be on that bus was a hen night for the fiancee of a friend. I can think of no other circumstances that would have induced me to go on such a spree, otherwise.
So there I was, completely wide-eyed and sober, sitting in the first empty seat I could find: a lone leopard with giraffe ears separated from my fellow leopards and zebras. Next to me was a guy who's costume I simply didn't get. (He was in a navy pin striped suit and wore a hat. When I asked what he was supposed to be, he looked all haughty and offended. "I'm in the mafia," he muttered disdainfully. The thing is, I felt he was more pimp than godfather. Of course, I refrained from telling him that.
Anyway, the sureal high point was when someone in the front of the bus started coming down the aisle toward me. He was frightening. He wore an under shirt, was barefoot, had scary black circles around his eyes and walked a little like a hunchback, with a shuffling gait. I looked at him and thought: Oh my gosh, it's Gollum from LOTR.
"Noelle? Noelle?" Gollum called out as he approached...coming nearer and nearer to me. I froze. I had no idea who he was.
Only when his face was just inches from mine did I recognise him. An out of context young colleague from my new office.
"What are you doing on the bus?" he asked me with palpable incredulity.
And boy, that's when I felt it. I don't know for sure how he meant it. But I was sure of what I felt. The unmistakable sense that I did not belong. I was officially old. And that spooked me. I felt like an imposter whose mask was pulled off. By Gollum. Tricksy, tricksy, tricksy...
The next day, I discovered, my colleague wasn't even Gollum. He was actually (so he explained) a character from some Japanese horror flick - a boy that had drowned and came back to haunt his home. I told him it didn't matter. He had scared me half to death all the same.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Romance on the River Seine
Travel is about the moments you witness and remember. If you're lucky, you have a photo...
Just like... sex
Do you remember how you learned to ride a bicycle? Because I don't. One moment, I did not know how. The next moment, I did. And the exhileration of that sensation, of suddenly knowing with "exclamatory awareness" - I can do it. This is great. Wow. It is magic.
Witnessing that moment is magic as well. Yesterday, while K went off to her all-girl's bday party, we took C to to East Coast Park and we taught him to ride a bicycle. We decided, let's not even fuss with the training wheels. Let's just throw him into it.
He was apprehensive at first, but it took him, literally, minutes. More than five, and very much less than ten. T gave him two rules: Kick off with just one foot on the pedal. Slow down when you turn. Before we knew it, we were doing that scene in Kramer vs. Kramer, running and jumping and celebrating the joy of it.
And they say sex is just like riding a bicycle...
Witnessing that moment is magic as well. Yesterday, while K went off to her all-girl's bday party, we took C to to East Coast Park and we taught him to ride a bicycle. We decided, let's not even fuss with the training wheels. Let's just throw him into it.
He was apprehensive at first, but it took him, literally, minutes. More than five, and very much less than ten. T gave him two rules: Kick off with just one foot on the pedal. Slow down when you turn. Before we knew it, we were doing that scene in Kramer vs. Kramer, running and jumping and celebrating the joy of it.
And they say sex is just like riding a bicycle...
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Raising Beatles fans
C's all-time favourite is Lady Madonna. Especially the part that goes, "See how they run." K was drawn immediately to the poignant and heartbreaking Eleanor Rigby, but she is also very fond of the winsome Penny Lane and the playful Hello Goodbye.
It wasn't planned. Just a haphazard cd changer choice and voila: we have brand new Beatles fans in our midst.
It's all good. Let it be.
It wasn't planned. Just a haphazard cd changer choice and voila: we have brand new Beatles fans in our midst.
It's all good. Let it be.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Working with men
New job. New life.
I'm realising that throughout my working life, I've been surrounded by women, working with and for women. My first ever job I was a copywriter surrounded by female copywriters, and I wrote catsup copy and banking brochures. My boss was a woman, and although my secondary boss was a man, he was really more womanly than anything. I taught school for a bit, and there were more women there. The majority of my account managers were women. In the early nineties, forced to maximise my salary potential, I became an executive admin assistant in Manhattan. Then I worked for men but only from a very formal distance; my peers - a group of lovely secretaries - were all women. And of course, in the magazine business, it's all about women. Only 2 out of 10 staff in a magazine are men. That's not a real statistic, but it sounds about right.
These days, I work both with and for men - and ultimately, the readers I want to connect to are men. Maybe it's because I have no brothers but yes, it is new for me.
There's a lot to absorb. Things happen faster it seems. Communication channels seem to get crossed a whole lot more frequently. Attention spans are short - what, who where - and they're gone. Words are few and far apart. Ego seems a natural ingredient in testosterone. And assumptions are like puddles of dirty rain water - they just get stepped in - oops.
As someone blighted with the habit of being nice, I know I have to protect myself. I will not make coffee. I will not wash coffee cups. OK. Yesterday I found myself saying I would get someone a plastic bag for their waste bin. But hey, I was going downstairs anyway. I will not apologise. I will not flutter and dither. I will smile less. I will say what I think and leave it at that.
At the very least, I will try.
I'm realising that throughout my working life, I've been surrounded by women, working with and for women. My first ever job I was a copywriter surrounded by female copywriters, and I wrote catsup copy and banking brochures. My boss was a woman, and although my secondary boss was a man, he was really more womanly than anything. I taught school for a bit, and there were more women there. The majority of my account managers were women. In the early nineties, forced to maximise my salary potential, I became an executive admin assistant in Manhattan. Then I worked for men but only from a very formal distance; my peers - a group of lovely secretaries - were all women. And of course, in the magazine business, it's all about women. Only 2 out of 10 staff in a magazine are men. That's not a real statistic, but it sounds about right.
These days, I work both with and for men - and ultimately, the readers I want to connect to are men. Maybe it's because I have no brothers but yes, it is new for me.
There's a lot to absorb. Things happen faster it seems. Communication channels seem to get crossed a whole lot more frequently. Attention spans are short - what, who where - and they're gone. Words are few and far apart. Ego seems a natural ingredient in testosterone. And assumptions are like puddles of dirty rain water - they just get stepped in - oops.
As someone blighted with the habit of being nice, I know I have to protect myself. I will not make coffee. I will not wash coffee cups. OK. Yesterday I found myself saying I would get someone a plastic bag for their waste bin. But hey, I was going downstairs anyway. I will not apologise. I will not flutter and dither. I will smile less. I will say what I think and leave it at that.
At the very least, I will try.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Playing Happy Family
Broke in the game I bought at Musee du Orsay - a game of Happy Families featuring seven great Impressionists - Van Gogh, Manet, Monet, Gaugin, Cezanne, Renoir, and Degas. K and C had a blast and learned about art, too. Lots of rambunctious laughter and information retention.
Gotta pat myself on the back for that purchase.
Gotta pat myself on the back for that purchase.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
The amazing thing about the internet
I still recall in the early nineties, living in New York, reading speculative articles about this new medium, the "I-way", my boss at the time called it. (That name never stuck). People said things as blasphemous as it's only good for porn, which of course, in retrospect is simply mind-boggling.
And yet for all the many benefits there are today - the shopping, the banking, the booking of airline tickets and the making of reservations, all these for me pale in comparison to the broadest possibilities of intimate human connection. Through the Internet I have found a number of people who were at one time important to me: my best friend in kindergarten - Denise, now a bio computer scientist and a mother. My gradschool kindred spirit, Janette, a professor at UVA. And most recently, we've reconnected with Ka Magic and his little family, reliving all the hilarious memories of times shared back when we were once New Yorkers.
Today, I read from my highschool e-group that one of my classmates in first year highschool has made the tremendous, terrifying step of taking her small son and their belongings and sneaking out of her house to leave her abusive husband once and for all.
She writes with the same honest familiarity and openess that I remember she had when she was thirteen year old. She asks for our prayers, the prayers of her fellow classmates. We were good friends at one time, and yet, once we were in different classrooms, we allowed ourselves to lose touch. The last time I saw her was after college. We ran into each other once more, at the library at TJCC on Gil Puyat in Manila. She was then preparing for her GREs, full of hope for what I was certain would be her bright future.
And here we are - some twenty years later, having found each other because she reached out through the 'net during this very difficult time.
What is the internet, if not a way to bring you towards such connections and reconnections - despite being, as we are separate individuals all over the globe?
And yet for all the many benefits there are today - the shopping, the banking, the booking of airline tickets and the making of reservations, all these for me pale in comparison to the broadest possibilities of intimate human connection. Through the Internet I have found a number of people who were at one time important to me: my best friend in kindergarten - Denise, now a bio computer scientist and a mother. My gradschool kindred spirit, Janette, a professor at UVA. And most recently, we've reconnected with Ka Magic and his little family, reliving all the hilarious memories of times shared back when we were once New Yorkers.
Today, I read from my highschool e-group that one of my classmates in first year highschool has made the tremendous, terrifying step of taking her small son and their belongings and sneaking out of her house to leave her abusive husband once and for all.
She writes with the same honest familiarity and openess that I remember she had when she was thirteen year old. She asks for our prayers, the prayers of her fellow classmates. We were good friends at one time, and yet, once we were in different classrooms, we allowed ourselves to lose touch. The last time I saw her was after college. We ran into each other once more, at the library at TJCC on Gil Puyat in Manila. She was then preparing for her GREs, full of hope for what I was certain would be her bright future.
And here we are - some twenty years later, having found each other because she reached out through the 'net during this very difficult time.
What is the internet, if not a way to bring you towards such connections and reconnections - despite being, as we are separate individuals all over the globe?
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Yoga Blast
To make up for last week's inactivity due to wisdom tooth surgery, I've been at the yoga centre with a vengeance. Monday, I did a Power class with Laurence. Tuesday, it was Hatha 1 with Shyam. Wednesday, I did Hot 1 with Hanoi, but had to run out after an hour for a meeting with the Dappers. Thursday, I did Hatha 1 in the morning with Kumaran and then Hot Flow in the afternoon with Arun. Friday, it was Hanoi's power class, which was great. Arms and shoulders are slightly tender, but other than that I feel great!
Total hours: 6! Hopefully, I can keep this up even after work starts.
Total hours: 6! Hopefully, I can keep this up even after work starts.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
On the eve of your birthday
May your next five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes be filled with love, joy and all His blessings for your personal fulfillment! All our love and birthday wishes Tita M!! From your family in sunny, hazy, Singapore!
"You know you're old ...
... when your dentist is younger than you."
- T
Dr. Aidan took the stitches out today - a short procedure that was not without discomfort. I said to him, "You know, I really didn't expect this whole thing to be so painful. The surgery. The recovery. Taking out these stitches..." And you know what he said to me?
"That's why it's ideal to get this surgery done at age 18. Recovery is most painless for the young."
Ouch. Gee, doc. Thanks. It helps to know that.
- T
Dr. Aidan took the stitches out today - a short procedure that was not without discomfort. I said to him, "You know, I really didn't expect this whole thing to be so painful. The surgery. The recovery. Taking out these stitches..." And you know what he said to me?
"That's why it's ideal to get this surgery done at age 18. Recovery is most painless for the young."
Ouch. Gee, doc. Thanks. It helps to know that.
Monday, October 09, 2006
Sunday, October 08, 2006
The Scoop
As Woody Allen films go, this is definitely not his best one. But it's funny and engaging and story-wise, still inventive. Scarlett Johansson and Hugh Jackman are both fun to watch, and even the Woodman distinguishes himself in familiar territory.
But it is familiar territory, with plotlines borrowed both from his little novella The Kugelmass Episode as well as his 1995 flic Manhattan Murder Mystery. At least Allen borrows from himself, which is entirely acceptable. It's too easy for him - like nothing more than his own creative training session. That it's done in mostly British accents is refreshing, but it doesn't make it into the top 10 Woody Allen film list, not by a long shot.
What it is is a scoop of ice cream on hot day. Great fun while it lasts, but soon forgotten. And who gave Scarlett Johansson's stylist the day off, please?
But it is familiar territory, with plotlines borrowed both from his little novella The Kugelmass Episode as well as his 1995 flic Manhattan Murder Mystery. At least Allen borrows from himself, which is entirely acceptable. It's too easy for him - like nothing more than his own creative training session. That it's done in mostly British accents is refreshing, but it doesn't make it into the top 10 Woody Allen film list, not by a long shot.
What it is is a scoop of ice cream on hot day. Great fun while it lasts, but soon forgotten. And who gave Scarlett Johansson's stylist the day off, please?
Tick Tick Boom!
Also known as Jonathan Larsen's pre-RENT work with a little tweaking.
We went in with lowered expectations, and came out humming. It's more of a mini-musical really, not a full-scale production. But the New York cast was three-man strong - in fact, we were pleasantly surprised to find Jerry Dixon in it. We had seen him previously in two performances of Once On This Island and one ensemble Broadway show right here in Singapore with Judy Kuhn.
Anyway, while Tick Tick Boom's plot isn't exactly the stuff for panorama -- the angst of choices, decisions and turning (Oh my God, really?) 30; at least, musically, the show has some engaging moments. My favourites are as follows:
- The homage to Stephen Sondheim's Sunday in the Park With George in SUNDAY - a satirical comic piece on the quintessential New York thing to do: sunday brunch. Anyone who has hummed SitPwG will recognise its stirring counterpoints in this tune.
- The cute and quirky duet THERAPY, a singable ode to relationship nueroses.
- The haunting REAL LIFE is a little heavy handed but not unaffecting.
- A nice strong melody with a full female vocal COME TO YOUR SENSES
- WHY is not only singable, but musical lovers will recognise the cameo threads of Mary Poppins and West Side Story. It also functions as a beautiful commitment to craft anthem.
Should you see Tick Tick Boom? It's a show that's barely an hour and a half long and has no intermission. Hey, if it's running, I say why on earth not?
We went in with lowered expectations, and came out humming. It's more of a mini-musical really, not a full-scale production. But the New York cast was three-man strong - in fact, we were pleasantly surprised to find Jerry Dixon in it. We had seen him previously in two performances of Once On This Island and one ensemble Broadway show right here in Singapore with Judy Kuhn.
Anyway, while Tick Tick Boom's plot isn't exactly the stuff for panorama -- the angst of choices, decisions and turning (Oh my God, really?) 30; at least, musically, the show has some engaging moments. My favourites are as follows:
- The homage to Stephen Sondheim's Sunday in the Park With George in SUNDAY - a satirical comic piece on the quintessential New York thing to do: sunday brunch. Anyone who has hummed SitPwG will recognise its stirring counterpoints in this tune.
- The cute and quirky duet THERAPY, a singable ode to relationship nueroses.
- The haunting REAL LIFE is a little heavy handed but not unaffecting.
- A nice strong melody with a full female vocal COME TO YOUR SENSES
- WHY is not only singable, but musical lovers will recognise the cameo threads of Mary Poppins and West Side Story. It also functions as a beautiful commitment to craft anthem.
Should you see Tick Tick Boom? It's a show that's barely an hour and a half long and has no intermission. Hey, if it's running, I say why on earth not?
Friday, October 06, 2006
Project Runway
Am sitting here at home, nursing my post-wisdom tooth surgery ache, which is proving surprisingly bothersome. But I'm cheered up, unexpectedly, by this show on Travel & Living. Watching these novice designers translate their inspirations into garments is genuinely absorbing. Very few things on television are so substantially about the process of creativity. Project Runway is definitely it. Besides, you gotta love all these beautiful, loving gay guys...they're just so sweet. Bitchy perhaps, but sweet nevertheless.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
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Kids on break
So what are you going to do about it?
Reminder: Buy fruit
Likewise, Quintosians rule
on with family business
FLASHBACK MANILA
Isang Sandali
Sisterhood rules
Here's to being the best we can be!
Apparently, this is me. Now which card are you?
You are The Wheel of Fortune
Good fortune and happiness but sometimes a species of intoxication with success
The Wheel of Fortune is all about big things, luck, change, fortune. Almost always good fortune. You are lucky in all things that you do and happy with the things that come to you. Be careful that success does not go to your head however. Sometimes luck can change.
What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.