Wednesday

As a schoolchild I used to long for Wednesday. My theory was that weeks tended to slow to a lazy crawl Monday morning till Wednesday noon with a particularly torturous slow meander on Tuesdays at two pm, where I would usually drag myself through whatever I was doing because things were just so excruiciatingly slow. But once you hit midday on a Wednesday it was whoopdiddy whoopee till Friday after school, by far the best part of the week. This week however has sped by amazingly, with very little regard for the particular day.

This week, time is speeding on a freeway and it has not bothered even to pause to consider the day. Maybe it was Studio 60. I'm thankful for the speed though, because T is overseas, and time does tend to get everlasting when he's not around, at least ordinarily. Maybe it had to do with the Rice Pannings and the fun visit we had. But also because Cam is here from Hong Kong, and the usual flurry of socials that whirl up around her has taken place. Monday, after popping in to see the kids, I went for drinks at the Fs, browsing through C's collection (I bought a dress and a top), and then late supper at Que Pasa - love those burgers. Last night I had work to do and T was due to pop in en route from Jakarta to KL. But today, by sheer texting power, managed to wangle the kiddies a playdate with S and the E kids. Drove the whole caboodle including M to the East, and had a great cocktail hour as well. At home now, I'm keeping company with the American idols while doing the puttering for tomorrow. Also I wait for T's call. Tomorrow work stuff...and meetings. Battling a bit of a scratchy throat, but hey, can't stop now...

Sunday tale of K and C

T is off to Jakarta, so I dine at home with the kiddies solo. Since M is not home from "off" yet, I take out the leftover spaghetti and throw together a Greek salad with baby spinach, feta cheese cubes and olives. K is a voracious salad eater, and C loves feta cheese enough that he accepts the deal of eating four leaves per cube. We then gorge on HG ice cream bars which I never buy - except that C begged me to earlier that day.

Due to the busy-ness of this past weekend - friends from out of town, a visit to the lawyer, an eye appointment, a soccer tournament and not just one but two kiddie birthday parties, there was a bit of neglected homework to do.

C gamely attacks his English work - write an 80-word essay based on a sequence of illustrations while making use of as many idioms from another list. I am impressed as I read his first sentence in rather neat-for-him penmanship: "This is a cock and bull story." Cock and bull being #8 in the list of idioms. He writes diligently for about ten minutes, even though sometimes his letters grow and shrink in size. Meanwhile, K delivers an extemporaneous storytelling - writing in her head out loud - telling me the essay she would have wanted to write, if she had C's homework. And her first sentence is, "It was your typical Wednesday afternoon..." and her oral recitation has a beginning, middle, climax and denoument.

Oh my goodness my children are writers! I proudly tell them that. At age 9 and 8 respectively, they are writing what I was writing as a teenager. I praise them to high heaven, but am conscientious about issuing my caveat. "OK," I tell them, "You can always be writers - but make sure you're something else as well." K says she wants to be an architect. Great, I tell her. C says he wants to be a director. OK, I say.

Anything, anything, anything. Just don't be just a writer. Because there are lots of wonderful things to be, as well.

Post Easter Epiphany

What has happened is that I've allowed myself to forget the thing that I really love and want to do with my life. I've allowed myself to forget that I ever even wanted it. And the thing is - the signs keep coming, and I just keep foolishly and thoughtlessly ignoring them. The emails from JB about his STORY magazine. The reminders from Glimmertrain Stories. Running all of a sudden into a huge folder of all that book length work, circa 1990-1992. And now, just that brief conversation with A by the river. It's now as clean, clear and as shiny as the merlion after a rain.

It makes sense to have A come along at this point in my life. If I am, I am. I should remember that, and commit to that, and let the rest fall by the wayside, shouldn't it.

Here it is, isn't it. It's either I act, or I don't act. What's it going to be then?

Crammed full

That's how these days have been - but in a good way - thank goodness. Getting a lot of work done. Keeping the balance of work and workouts and a little bit of play even, thanks to Studio 60 and American Idol. Why, today, I even wrote a story!

And last night, dinner with J after what is it now... 20 years. How can it be 20 years? But I counted and it was. Last time we saw each other was on 2140 Bredefield Street in Ann Arbor. I did not even know T existed. And there we were last night, recognising each other instantly, and talking a mile a minute about everything and all the years gone by. He met K and C and called them "Splendid!".

Tomorrow, it's the BGSU reunion with A and M Rice. But fitness first literally at 7:30am. Then lunch with the sistahmahds at Epibong. Then dinner down by the river, topped off with beer at Brussel Sprouts. TGIF. Here's to a grand weekend that still gives us time for rest.

My fellow televiewers who value smart TV...

Today I went from the green zone to the yellow zone to the gold zone*... and that, by the way, just a few seconds ago. Just saw the opening of the pilot episode of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip and it was brilliant. Just brilliant. The kind of brilliant that makes your toes curl and your insides feel warm and fuzzy. Am so happy I have ten episodes to go...

And I got an email from Seth Godin.

So cool.

*By the way, today I learned that gold stays liquid for about 8 seconds before it solidifies. And there is liquid in all of us. And we all have to translate that into nuggets of action. That's what getting in the gold zone means...

An Easter basket full to the brim

Despite being up late watching Mark Whalberg in Shooter at Vivo City last night, T and I were up earlyto bring K and C to the children's Easter mass at 8:15. It was a good idea as the children enjoyed being led out of the church for an age-appropriate sermon - although, it was a layperson saying it, and from what K said, the speaker did not seem to have made a meaningful connection with the kids. But it was good to have an early morning and after mass, we went for Cedele brunch and sailed easily into one of those coveted window booths for our eggs and pancakes. There was still time for leisurely rest at home, during which K and C showed us the beginning of Matilda.
Then it was off to the Ms Easter barbecue luncheon-swimming party-and egg hunt at Leonie Hill. Lots of food - barbecue chicken, grilled fish, lechon kawali and grilled liempo plus spaghetti, cheese sticks, aligue pasta and lots of dessert. Kids and adults alike seemed to havelots of fun, and though it was rained out towards the end, everyone had a good time. And because the kids begged us for extra time with the playmates, we made a day of it with the Ms, the Js and P.

We got home at 5:30, and since M was home, T and I decided to go for a much needed run on the track, even though there was a bit of a drizzle. Party leftovers for dinner plus T's yummy greek salad. And the best part? After six weeks of zero chocolate, I finally indulged in delicious dark chocolate with blueberries and cranberries. Yum yum yum.

Here's to keeping that awareness of the new Easter life that each day brings in the week ahead, and after.

Black Saturday

With T and C off to soccer, thought I would get a chance to sleep in for a change. But no way. K woke me persistently at 7:30, begging to be read Anne of Green Gables. Which I did. We covered three chapters. Amazing how certain parts of that book can so easily bring on the tears. T is reading C Rosemary Sutcliff's Black Ships Before Troy - the story of the Iliad, and the not so little boy is enjoying it. Perhaps not so much as he enjoyed King Arthur. We only stopped when we got hungry for breakfast. Then we had to review for a two hour session of Chinese. But our plans for soccer practice and a run on the track were thwarted by black clouds on black Saturday. All we could do was go for a drive. Tomorrow, Easter mass at 8:15am.

It feels good to just hang at home and do nothing.

A Good Friday

Fasting and quiet time with the children - which was not as quiet as we might have liked. C is going through a testy, difficult stage. K's exemplary behaviour does not help. We saw the entire Jesus Christ Superstar from "What's the Buzz" all the way to end. C skipped the leper scene though K said she was ready for it, and she was. Kids had crab cakes that we didn't have for lunch. At the end of the day we ventured out to buy the Easter stuff and had a light, meatless dinner of fish porridge and century egg at Crystal Jade Kitchen.

Maundy Thursday

It felt strange to go to work today, when at home, it's holiday. And it was very very hot. Sitting at my desk, I actually felt drops of perspiration forming on the surface of my skin as I typed. So in that sense, it felt very much like the Maundy Thursdays of my youth in Manila. When I left the office, there was a breeze, to be sure, but the air was hot and dry like air from a hair dryer.

I managed to attend service solo. It was very festive - it really and truly felt bigger than Christmas. Which of course it is - the whole preparation for Easter. All the priests were out so much that I saw a couple I had never even seen before. But it was long. Too much singing, and as much I hate to say it, it wasn't great. But still. Am glad I went.

Special projects within the next two weeks

• Write Sister B a thank you email
  
• Write a letter updating CelesteS
• Finalise Manila trip dates
• Do the piece for CB
• Prepare a twisted project
• Shop for gifts for L & M, and also for C
  
• Choose the books for rummage sale
• Draft the budget
• Lessons on notetaking for K and C

Reminder: Eat more fruit and vegetables

Body and soul

How strange and how wonderful.

Today I had a session with a woman who very clearly has God in her life. Today, at the beginning of Holy Week, I went to her Body Temple. I learned to take time out for myself. I learned I must do more to live naturally – in what I take into my body. I learned a new facet in the meaning of the word commitment. She runs Body Temple. It is a wonderful, positive place. And as just about the very height of rightness, Body Temple is on Carpenter Street. If people care to stop and take the time, if they don’t hurry and don’t worry and don’t forget to smell the flowers, they will see that He is always there. All we have to do is open our eyes, breathe deeply and take Him in.

Once on this island

Quite by chance, I found out that the La Salle SIA College of Arts was staging our old favourite
Broadway show Once On This Island (Ahrens & Flaherty 1991) which we had seen twice in New York, and twice in Manila. Naturally, I was eager for the opportunity to introduce K and C to the actual production, as opposed to just the music. Back in 2004, when we took them to Bali, we spent the ride from Nusa Dua to Ubud, singing them all the songs and narrating what we could of the book. And of course, once we got home, we let them hear the soundtrack. So for a wonderful $10 per ticket, we took in a Saturday matinee offering quite a professional little troupe with respectable vocal talent. The cast had two Pinoys in it - one playing Ton Ton Julien and the other playing Ezuli beautiful goddess of love. There were also quite a number of Caucasians in it, as well as Malaysians - all in all a nice mix and as I said, in terms of musicality and emotionality, quite strong. The kids enjoyed it immensely, even C who had said previously he didn't care to go. Well, they were both glad they did - though we had to forego Saturday catechism. Luckily, we made it to 6pm anticipated Palm Sunday mass. Kaylee confessed she was going to go for Drama Club next year, as a result.

It's funny that Phantom of the Opera is actually playing in Esplanade, and I'm still hemming and hawing about whether this is something I really want to take them to. Hold the two musicals side by side, and I'd still go for the Island...

What do you do when...

you're really upset with a person, and there's absolutely nothing you can say or do to her/him about it because of the situation. And by the way, when I say upset, I pretty much mean angry. Good old fashioned swear word anger. Yes, I am angry. Read something recently about positive ways to manage anger. I always thought that simply letting go and catharsis was the best thing. Apparently, release actually raises your stress levels. And that it's better to simply walk away. Walk away. Except what happens if you can't walk away? What do you do then?

Dear Celeste

I miss you fairly constantly, as you know. But most especially tonight. And I know that I wasn't the only one either.

Tonight, a number of the FX girls had a Holy Week reflection session with Sister Bubbles. And in that weird, unforeseen, greater-Force-at-work-way, it was exactly the sort of thing we all needed, at this point. Sister B spoke to us about finding our songs - and the way we sing - giving praise, as prayer, connecting both ourselves and the community to Him without words. We all had to go through that exercise of finding ( and singing) the song that expresses both who we are and why we sing. Type ko, type mo rin. For some reason (and am rather embarrassed about this) - emotion got the better part of me and I could barely get through Amy Grant's Arms of Love. AndI adore that song both as prayer and as song! I don't know why but all of a sudden I was suddenly overwhelmed by all the thoughts and memories Sister B was channelling - missing my sisters - M and L (By the way M, sabi ni Sister, You are extraodinary. You are a vessel!), missing you, unexpectedly missing R of Pinoy Lessons in Life and even my old friend from oh so long ago Fr. PP. Strange how things suddenly occur to you like background music - even though I was there - fixed in the moment - thinking of faith and family and feeling that greater spiritual connection. It was an inexplicable out-of-body experience, but it was such that even I, someone who doesn't usually relish the group dynamics and sharing nature of these sorts of exercises, found it somehow easy not just to open up but also to listen. But man, I made myself say that as much as I am aware of what song is doing for worship and praise and the community, I pretty much sing because of how it makes me feel - selfish as that might be.

What would you have sung to explain why you sing and who you are? What would D have sung for that matter? Just to let you know - there was a hodgepodge of songs sung: ABBA's Thank you for the music and the Carpenter's You and Hangad's Hangad and that song from Ice Castles - Looking Through The Eyes Of Love. Sister Bubbles sang Of All The Things. Exactly the sort of exercise I dig. (Another note to K of Lazy Sunday Afternoons - who should have been there - what would have been your song choice?).

Write me when you can, Celeste. A more comprehensive email will be forthcoming in a not so public forum. Need I say I miss you.

Reminder: Go to yoga this week

Check out a new way to watch a DVD

Put on something you haven't seen in at least five years. For us, it was Saturday Night Fever. Then switch on the subtitles for Director's notes. In this case, John Badham's scintillating musings on the making of this classic movie of the 70s. Plus, who doesn't love John Travolta as Tony Manero? Not to mention Yvonne Elliman's fervent If I Can't Have You playing in the opening dance scene. Gritty and real and smart and poignant and funny and wistful all at the same time. You can't get any better than Saturday Night Fever... it's a masterpiece.

Beach time over

A prayer for discipline and strength

We are in that quiet time that is in every sense of the word, "make or break". It is the time when the temptation to slow down and give in to good old fashioned sloth at its most powerful but it is also that time that demands huge quantities of discipline. It is in a way a different kind of stress - but no less urgent, no less pressing. I am reminded of the strong and stunning A, now tearing up the corporate ladder in New York city with the grace and the speed of a wild horse. I recall her drive and her inner presence - her ability to simply push herself and yes, I do envy it. Mine are usually the short bursts of inspiration - powerful but ultimately, temporary. It is the consistent and the constant drive that not only meets the best expectations but eventually surpasses them. Enough. It is time. In order that all may be achieved, once must focus and simply and matter-of-factly... do.

Flashback to Fort Canning Park Sunday Picnic