January 3, 1993

The weather cooperated. I wore a dress with a floral print to the hotel and me and L and M spent a few minutes taking photos of the sign that read CHUA DE JESUS nuptials. I was not nervous. In fact, I remember being hungry most of the day. T and I spoke once. "See you later," he said, like it was completely normal and ordinary.

At the church, we sat on a bench that had no back. I had to sit up straight so as not to look slouchy. The Company sang for the ceremony - through all that picture-taking. Then the reception. J as emcee. L assisting. Niether got to eat much, I'm told. The pianist played "Our Love Is Here to Stay" which M sang with wistful pathos and a touch of nerve. My Dad looked a bit pale. I could tell my Mom thought the programme went on too long, but I did not care. T said his long list of thank you's like it was the Oscars. When the mike was handed to me, I babbled, then I caught a glimpse of her face. She mouthed the word "Goodnight" to me. I dutifully said good night.

In the hotel suite, there was a large fruit basket - Chinese pears, oranges, a mango and a generous bunch of grapes. We devoured it. When I slipped out of my wedding dress, petals and petals of flowers fell to the floor, from what the guests had tossed at the church.

That was fourteen years ago. It was a good day.

House again

Finished. 24 episodes all gobbled up at the average rate of three shows a night. I won't say the series is without flaw. There were little underdeveloped bits, like small portions of undercooked meat. Like the episode where Chase asks for a break, gets assigned to NICU and despite interrogation from House, we never really find out why in a satisfactory way. The Stacey storyline deftly played by the stunning Sela Ward ends way too abruptly - why not stretch that tension out a little? And Foreman's brain problems - how now brown cow? One show, he is struggling with it, and the next, he's all too easily back to his old self. But these are picky points that sound much worse than they actually are, when you consider the shows in their entirety. The overall flavour and texture is delicious in a very rich and complex way and these minor imperfections only serve to enhance the experience.

House is neat because it's about so much more than what it's actually about. I've said this before but it really and truly is about the human condition - and not solely in terms of disease. The other disadvantage is that, of course, you start worrying about the holiday leftovers in your fridge and whether they will give the family some kind of toxin, bacteria or fungus that will make them violently sick while causing their organ systems to shut down. Definite high points: the episode when Foreman becomes a patient - an admirable physical performance by Omar Epps. The whole Stacey storyline exploring the very real draw of rekindling old loves - irresistible. And that final episode of House's hallucinations.

I tend to get infatuated with TV series'. In the early nineties, I could not get enough of Ally McBeal. This year, I tried to see it again and ended up simply getting annoyed. I tried to get my Dad to watch House, and he ran off at the first sign of a little blood from a routine intubation. "It's my age. It's too real." "Wait," I tried to call him back, "That's just the details. That's not what the show is really about."I wonder if House will stand that test for me, the way SATC and The West Wing do. Sigh. In the meantime, work begins, deadlines loom like dark clouds on the horizon, and I suffer withdrawal symptoms.

While I'm happy that the kids are enjoying it so much (and not just for the appropriate value formation), The Cosby Show just doesn't cut it.

Looking Back

I would do a collage ala the Swingapore Sister, but as yet, I know not how... so I must content myself with the hum-drum primordial list of the high points of 2006.

1) C's first day of school
2) K and C's bowl-o-rama bday party
3) The de Jesus Bangkok Bash in February - Part II in September
4) Beautiful Bohol
5) Finding VMG or rather them finding me
6) K's first communion
7) Europe with the Tman
8) Bono
9) The Francis Xavier Choir
10) Itzak Perlman & John Williams

May every day of 2007 be as rich and sweet as gingerbread cookies

Resolve...

In 2007 to...

1) Decrease the clutter from daily living
2) Care about health because it is more important than aesthetics
3) Strive for patience and a better hold on ye olde temper, especially in terms of T, K and C.
4) Spend more time doing the things you are meant to be doing.
5) Stop talking. Stop being greedy. Live simply. Express only the good.
6) Say no with firm resolution and a measure of grace.
7) Be open to different opinions, even the ones that run counter to mine
8) Stop worrying about work, let it slide and above all, don't take it home.
9) Keep in closer touch with the people who matter most
10) Devote more time to Him.

Happy New 2007!

Last days of 2006

The way it works is that you make plans. You make decisions. You make resolutions. You try to get things done so that the new year can stretch before you - a clear path, a route that you plotted out in a fairly organised manner, while leaving room for the possibility of surprises, inclinations toward the unexpected. You can do it that way. Or you can just let the new year wash over you, push you or pull you along like tides or the moon. Some people get zany excited. I used to. New Year's Day was like a birthday. Some people let themselves get discouraged. Either that or overwhelmed. Or just a a little low. And then there's new year's eve.

For our part, we are exploring hitherto unexplored territory. Taking long drives into the wide expanse of country that is thi small city state. Taking the kiddies to playgrounds. Buying school supplies and snacking on dried chili pork. Watching the The Cosby Show. And taking a tip from Tita Maya - and visualising our 2007 with drawings. Oh yeah...and House. If Project Runway is is about creativity, it makes sense that House, as a medical drama, is about the human condition and what that means at this particular point in the century. Have I mentioned I am really loving House?

The doctors in the House

Have begun the second season of House and I'm dreading for it to end. Characters are growing and developing, but even better, the discernable formula - which most people didn't mind really - is now in the throes of reinvention. So much less structured now than it was in the first season. And still those lovely ironies. People ask how I can stand such a meanie, such a carmudgeon - and in truth, if Greg House existed in real life, yes, I would hate him. But as a fictional anti-hero, he suits my cynical tendencies to the bone. The brilliant diagnostician who hates patients. The healer who is himself a drug addict. The people's life saver who can't seem to get his own life together. House reminds me of, do I dare say it, so many people. And some of them are me.

And the writing? the creativity? The slick graphics and the irresistible characterizations of Cuddy, Foreman, Wilson, Chase, Cameron and Stacey - I don't ever want it to end. As second seasons go, this one takes the rich, rum, spicy fruit cake of the season, making Grey's Anatomy seem like feeble key lime pie - sweet, fluffy and not quite all there.


Let's give a hand for the House!

Let nothing ye dismay...

Despite being twenty minutes early to the 6pm Children's mass at St. Iggy's, there was no room on the pews. So there we are, the kiddie Christmas pageant is about to begin, and I have two dressed up sulky kids upset that they can't "see" the show. So I send them to stand behind the choir where perhaps they will get a better view and likely won't be sent away because, well, it's a children's mass and they're kids. The plan worked. The kids got to see the "show" which wasn't half bad, actually. Then T and I wriggled and squirmed our way near them, except when the show ended, the we lost track of where they were. K found our way to us...but C was nowhere to be found, and the service proper was in full progress. All at once I see a man leading a bawling C to the pew way on the other side of the church. Thank goodness, he wasn't yelling, just sniffling. As quickly as I could, I made my way back there and escorted him back. All's well that ended well.

Fr. Chris Soh gave a lovely sermon - the best I've ever heard here, actually. A reflection on the irony of the Christ child as a hero, so unlike Superman and Spiderman and yet so much more heroic in that he saves us with the truth. It was perfectly appropriate, considering this was the children's mass. And the youth choir did a great job...and the congregation left the church humming those great old tunes. Then it was back home to a homecooked family dinner of roast lamb, brussel sprouts, mashed potatoes, fruit salad and the gingerbread we baked.

The best thing? Waking up to a dry, breezy Christmas day. Hurrah. Hurrah.

Joy to the world. Good will to men and peace on earth.
Noel!
Noelle

Traditions

Getting out the Christmas card with the Christmas picture. Sending home the presents to the dear folks in Manila. Buying outfits for Christmas mass - because we should all wear something new for Jesus' birthday. Having fruit salad and sweet treats like poppycock and ginger covered in dark chocolate. Baking the a batch or two of Tita Esther Esteban's gingerbread cookies as well as Mom's fruit salad with the secret zip. Making sure there is queso de bola, majestic ham and Spanish sardines for a noche buena for two. Doing a lot of Christmas reading from the books from Chapter 1 of Little Women to Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus and not to forget Luke 2:1-17. Doing last minute shopping on Orchard Road. Attending the children's mass at St. Ignatius, which is at the very earthly and civilised hour of 6pm on the 24th, thank you very much. Having a family Christmas dinner of either roast lamb or turkey and getting the kids off to bed early so that all the wrapping can finally be "wrapped up" - staying up or not staying up with hot chocolate. Getting awakened by the kids. Opening the gifts and then going off for Christmas day brunch...and then following it with something outdoorsy like the zoo or a traipse in the park or if it's raining (and Christmas day can well be a rainy one in Singapore) a walk in the museum or a browse at the bookstore. And on boxing day, we go through toys, clothes and books that can be brought over to Tita Belen's communities in the Philippine provinces.

Best of all, this Christmas - no work till the New Year!

"But isn't it funny, we never see him...and all the gifts come from Toys R Us!"

Feeling like a journalist

Last night, I dreamt I had an exclusive interview with John Travolta. It was a two-hour session at his hotel suite and I asked him incisive, penetrating questions in the way a shrewd, been-there-done-that and wasn't-born-yesterday journalist would. And while he squirmed his way through it, finally breaking down and giving in, I felt an incredible surge of power.

Been feeling like a journalist lately. This is surprising because as a writer in editor in women's magazines, I have never really and truly felt like a journalist. All of a sudden, now that I've left the automatic, easy and yes, comfortable world of female fash mags and am making my way through the strange and unexplored seemingly lunatic world that is the men's news magazine, I feel full to the brim with...what is it? Ambition? Journalistic drive? I don't know. Something. Of course, it occurs to me that aTravolta exclusive, even if it is a dream, isn't exactly the stuff
of hardcore journalism, is it? I guess my magazine sense is still very much esconsced in celebrity gloss and goss.

Shut up about your job already, T says, it's Christmas. OK, I will.

Get that spirit!

Counting Down

Still oh so many things to do and I'm not even going home for Christmas! Fortunately, a break looms in the horizon from the 26th all the way to the 2nd. What to do, what to do...

Rain reigns

You would think after seven years here, I wouldn't be so startled by it. But sultry, sunny days all year make you forget that when December comes, it's quite possible to have incessant rain for days on end, with precious little regard for the festive season. C complained in the car all the way to Sports Camp, and the truth was, inside I was whining right along with him.

We've learnt the hard way too many times. At least now, we know not to book a beach trip in nearby Bintan - it all goes to waste in with the rain. But it's hard to keep that Christmas cheer when it's dark and gloomy outside. T says - in terms of the absence of light, it would be no different from the US or Europe, so we should all quit complaining. He is, as he is on many occasions, quite right.

I hope to get a glimpse of the sun on Christmas morning. If not, with any luck, we'll be able to make a little sunshine from inside out.

Birthday bliss

I'm that proverbial kid on Christmas day. First from T: a lovely item from Mulberry, bagged early due to convenient credit card sale. Saphire earrings from Mom and Dad. And from the girls: the 2nd season of Grey's Anatomy DVD set, Alain de Botton's The Architecture of Happiness, (the whopping how could I forget to mention) The Illustrated History of Vogue, 501 Books You Must Read, The Paris Review's Anthology of People With Problems, the hardbound edition of Ruth Reichl's Garlic and Sapphires the secret life of a food critic in disguise, four very pretty necklaces including one designed by an old school chum, a pair of earrings, a votive candle to keep serene for the season. And my dearest sisters in Manila tell me I've got new sleepwear and a new pair of yoga pants with my name on it! PLUS texts and emails from New York City, Chicago and Alabama and Manila and a phone call from Washington DC. Happy happy birthday to me, indeed.

Something odd: Turning 39 has made me feel for the first time in some three or four years, very much really and truly not 40.

The December Snowball

It happens every year, doesn't it? You hit the the third week of November and all of a sudden, days start to zipping by with the speed of light so it feels like you don't even have time to take a breath, much less get all the things you need to do done. This year is no different. Come to think of it, 2006 seems to have gone by exceedingly quickly and it's all rushing to a crescendo right now.

K and C are still amazingly keeping Santa Claus alive. Work is so very mentally absorbing that for the first time, I am finding it hard to blog about it. Friends and family are in and out of town and the flurry of festive socials has begun with a vengeance - what with brunches and dinners and cocktails. In the meantime, personal and professional deadlines loom for writing projects, so every bit of time from here till the dawn of 2007 will be crammed full to the brim. But but but...will also find the time to go biking at Bishan park, take the kiddies to see Deck the Halls, set our annual Christmas cookie baking session and organise our year-end donations to children's charities, not to mention the holiday card. But first, the birthday lunch...

Let it snow, let is snow, let it snow...

Take a vinyasa!

  

We should all simply

  
Bono has it so very right.

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...