January 2011
50 posts
over the chatlines
M: So, I’ve decided to rendezvous with you in Malaysia, after all. I think you can use some company as you start to pick yourself up in the aftermath. Me: The aftermath of what? M: The apocalypse of your youth.
yes, it's my birthday.
Thanks for the birthday love.
“Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you...”
– Janet Fitch, White Oleander (via libraryland)
over the chatlines
M: You realize that last confession post is just going to make things worse. Me: What do you mean? M: Because now I have to ask you when you were a fake lesbian. Me: Haha. Somehow, I knew you were going to zero in on that. M: I read the college hooker story. And I read the drug dealer story. But I don’t remember a lesbian story. Me: It was before your time. College in Manila. I had a...
Give Peace A Chance.: What's Happening in Egypt... →
promotingpeace:
The basics: Egypt is a large, mostly Arab, mostly Muslim country. At around 80 million people, it has the largest population in the Middle East and the third-largest in Africa. Most of Egypt is in North Africa, although the part of the country that borders Israel, the Sinai peninsula, is in Asia….
confessions and thanks
A friend of mine reminded me [albeit in a roundabout way] of how my writing has sometimes gotten me in trouble. It is in that vein that I am writing this down now: a true confession [even though I may run the risk of sounding like a dangerous animal] because I am tired of being misunderstood.
There is a quote at the top of my blog that I put there as a warning. Maybe it’s still too...
500th book
I just bought my 500th book. Yes, you read that right, 500th. I know, because I… err… catalog my books. A few years ago, John bought me a barcode scanner so I could organize my library. Which means, of course, that I now have a database. [I’m a dork. In our spare time, these are the things we like to do.]
In honor of this personal milestone, I give you this picture....
“The Philippines is such a crazy place, and yet you meet the sanest people in the...”
– A traveler P. Diokno met in Vietnam
mentally drained, bear with me
Of course you have to be alone. Everyone else is a distraction. You can’t take people inside your head, no matter how hard you try. So all the company you have are the voices. Count yourself lucky that you can still hear them. And that you’ve got enough sense to pen them down.
***
My mother and my grandmother have both told me that the ticking sound I [am supposed to] hear in my...
a public service announcement
This is T’s event, so if you’re going to be in Manila, you have to watch it.
I don’t even care about your taste in music. Just plonk down the cash, make your friends do the same, and chalk it all up to your love for me.
Tickets at 5500, 4500, 3500, 2500, 1500, and 500, and for the love of all things sacred, please don’t be a cheapskate.
Sponsorships still up...
rejectamentalist manifesto: Perspective →
tentacular:
1
Among the 15 stories on 9 pages today’s print edition of the NYT considers more important than conclusive proof of the craven perfidy & collaboration of the Palestinian Authority & the unremitting & explicit rejectionism of Israel supported by the US are:
- A team of American football players defeating another team of American football players. - Ruminations on what...
for simon, who wants to know
Much will certainly be lost in the transformation from Tagalog to English, and I suppose this would be more a literary than literal translation, and also, I am really bad at this sort of thing. Still, I’ll try to get the point across, but only because you asked.
From Alamantra:
Marami akong pagukukulang, tayo’y hayop lang naman. Ikaw ang aking sandata, pero kahit lakas ay may hangganan.
...
squeal like a little girl
This is Danica Flores Magpantay, 17. She won Ford’s Supermodel of the World in New York [and a $250,000 contract] over the weekend. I’m blogging about this because she happens to be the daughter of gorgeous Lala Flores, one of this country’s top makeup artists, and incidentally, a former model herself.
Lala was one of the first makeup artists I had ever met, and even now,...
the weekend that sleep forgot
I cooked for about 35 people this morning: hummus, tzatziki, pita, and persian-style kabobs, all from scratch. You can actually see how tired I was getting by the devolution of the shape of my bread - the last dozen pitas were formed more like claws than traditional circles. And while it was quite gratifying to see my food disappear in about an hour [the pitas were gone in thirty minutes], I...
conversations: my mother
I write about my mother a lot, I know. But she’s hilarious, and I love her.
We were talking about the requisite round of temples one almost always encounters when traveling in Southeast Asia, and the proper etiquette while visiting these places of worship.
Mom: Just always have a large scarf with you. That way you can cover up if needed. But really, you should try not to go inside...
“There is a woman who spent her life loving that evil creature: she died. I’m sure she’s a saint in heaven right now. You are going to kill me the way he killed that woman.That is what’s in store for all of us who have unselfish hearts.”
- Rimbaud
Mine’s not quite unselfish. Just not selfish enough to get off scot-free.
rejectamentalist manifesto: At first it was... →
I really just love the unbridled hatred.
tentacular:
At first it was formality, the recitation of imperial platitudes. Smug, yes. Vile certainly. But predictable. An almost quotidian ghastliness. Was loathing for him to become merely rote? Built on reminiscence?
Such little faith.
Only wait. Only hear him announce that ‘the West has got to get out of this wretched posture of apology’....
babblings and other nonsense
My lovely little sister is going to her first dance next month [soph night]. That makes me feel old. Especially since I went to my own soph night around the time that she was born. [It was at the Manila Polo Club. I went with a boy named Kiel. Yes, yes, I remember.]
***
Dances like these work a little differently here in this country, especially when you’re a student at one of these...
things, again
I’ve been told that if I ever want to have children, I will need to try to have them within the next two years. It will probably be difficult, and will involve some kind of medical treatment/supervision, but there’s still a chance, at least. After that, odds are I may never have children at all.
I’ve never wanted to be a mother. At least, not in the way some of my friends...
things, again
“It used to be that the real and the invented were parallel lines that never met. Then we discovered that space is curved, and in curved space parallel lines always meet.” - Winterson
And really, when I liken us to parallel lines, I think that’s what I’ve always meant.
***
From this distance, there is little I can do. I can set the hounds of the internet upon you and...
a short recess in the middle of winterson
I am at the disreputable massage spa I secretly favor, looking at masseuses. Yes, only the feminine form. There are no masseurs, not here. It is not a man’s job in this city, the pushing and pulling of flesh.
They are silent, sitting on a long bench, all of them svelte, and long-haired, and dark-skinned. I feel like a middle-aged cowboy looking for his whore. The sentiment makes me...
“You’re an absolutist then.” “What’s one of those?” “All or nothing.” “What else is there?” “The middle ground. Ever been there?” “I’ve seen it on a map.” “You should take a trip.” “And when I get there I can go round and round in circles like everyone else.”
***
“What...
just, well, no
Via Ning from irrational fits of beauty.
That little girl is only [supposedly] SIX. Yes, six. She’s a very pretty child, but I find myself a bit uncomfortable with this picture [the same way I’ve always been uncomfortable with those children’s beauty pageants]. Though if I were honest, I’m not too sure if it’s the styling I have issues with, or if it’s the...
My godchild is officially a published writer →
It’s a bit weird to have a 24-year old godchild, I know, but it’s true.
***
In tangentially related news, I just realized that even some of my closest friends don’t actually know what I do for a living. Isn’t that strange?
procrastination
I feel betrayed of course. My body, that traitor, has betrayed me.
My blood comes from this soil. My skin was woven from this air. This land knows me as I know it. I should be immune to the poisons in the water. I should have safe passage here.
Instead I’m sick, like some pale-faced tourist. Like some foreigner.
***
On the roofdeck, writing and daydreaming and reading, just as I did...
notes [jessica zafra]: john irving
John Irving, author of The World According to Garp and 13 other novels, is touring the Philippines with his family and their [Filipino] family friends. [His son is best friends with the other couple’s daughter.]
He wrestled competitively until his mid-thirties. He is in the wrestling hall of fame. He has a wrestling tattoo on his inner arm.
He writes in longhand everyday, because he...
shop talk
On men apologizing…
M: Ordinarily, I would. But this time, I don’t know. I’m starting to worry about her a little. Me: Why? M: Well, I read her blog. She has this quote there: “A wise girl kisses but doesn’t love, listens but doesn’t believe, and leaves before she is left.” – Marilyn Monroe Me: Ah. M: Yes. I mean do I really want to be with someone who...
in memoriam
Two years ago, an artist/poet/singer/mother passed away. She also happened to be my cousin.
Rest in Peace, Anabel Bosch.
1.25.76 - 1.11.09
Conversations: my mother
I love this picture, because it’s just so classic. That’s my mother in red, with the pearls. The ladies behind her comprise the staff [and the lady standing over them all is our beloved nanny governess, who has been with us on and off for over 20 years, FYI]. Taken at one of the MANY holidays parties we were required to attend, during the annual bingo game, I believe. [And no,...
rejectamentalist manifesto: I closed my eyes &... →
tentacular:
I closed my eyes & held my breath & made myself very open & quiet, a receptacle like a pot or a coffin or a doll jug, because I knew something would come. Not if I could see but I couldn’t see so it might come. I stood in a little unbreathing shivering no-sound & I could feel hands raised to just beyond my lips. Everything went very silent, silent like wax stuffed up...
stuff
When something goes awry [and the something is not some kind of secret], my first instinct - like most human beings - is to let a good friend know.
Today, my little sister’s friend slipped on the way to the gym, and hit her head on the floor.
The friend lost consciousness, convulsed, and started to foam at the mouth. She was rushed to the hospital, and is still there. There was some...
riley and a little hemingway
“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places.”
Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms
[And then there are the unfortunate few who never really recover.]
***
A few hours ago, I posted a short entry about how Riley got mad at me for not telling him I was leaving. I had to take it down because, apparently, Riley wasn’t entirely comfortable...
and the sad bit is...
The really sad thing is I’m home, but I’m homesick. And I don’t know where or what it is I’m homesick for.
Maybe sometimes wanderlust and homesickness are just the same thing. We’re sick for a home we haven’t found yet. And we go off into the world, hoping that eventually, we’ll wander our way home.
even more random crap
Today, my best friend here in Manila sent me a text asking me who my architect was, and if she could have the number of my contractor, because she wanted to start work on the condo she bought under a year ago.
More than my upcoming birthday, more than Kyra turning fifteen, more than the fact that I have loans hanging over my head, that exchange made me feel old.
***
I went to my favorite...
and in jungle news
Perhaps this explains the weird simian behavior somewhat. But I am still waging war on the evil monkeys.
happy birthday kyra
It’s my littlest sister’s birthday today.
She’s now fifteen. In 23 days, she will officially be half my age. That gives me strange feelings best left for another post.
She’s throwing a smallish dinner party for ten of her closest friends. The girls [in my family, high school ALWAYS means an all girls Catholic school] are getting all dolled up. She even bought a new...
endings
The ends of first loves always make me a little bit sad, but she told me they really shouldn’t.
And I watched as she took off the necklace with the horse and put it away, never again to be worn. That was how things changed.
A few months or weeks after, there was a new pendant sitting on the base of her throat.
Just like that, love had receded. And just like that, the promise of love...
things
My mother, her siblings, and their respective spouses [whom we collectively and lovingly refer to as the Mafia] have just bought property somewhere in the south. It amounts to about a hectare of land [2.47 acres], which, they say, they will build on for their retirement.
The cousins and I have all stepped back from this process. None of us would like to be dragged into the chaos that we feel...
here we go
Mr. Coen, my first ever employer, has passed away. If I had to guess, I would put his age somewhere in the late 80’s or early 90’s. But he was still as sharp as a samurai sword as recently as five months ago.
For less than a year starting in 2004, I was an editorial assistant for his magazine, a financial publication located about two corners away from Bayard’s, somewhere...
more narcissism
These would be my two favorite pictures after processing. I apologize for the blast of narcissism, but I’ve been told that I look like my grandmother in both these shots, and I have never been told that before.
This shoot was fun. Dressing up as a flapper girl was fun.
Make-up by Mic Alava. Hair by Salon One. Dress is vintage Tita Mats. Accessories from Landmark.
taking a break from my hiatus
To wish you all a Happy New Year.
Regular programming resumes on the 5th.