Liv in a Life Well-Lived

I can't claim to have impeccable taste in movies. I have paid to watch films like Karate Kid 2 (oh-my-gawd) and Going the Distance, after all. But once in a while, I stumble unto something intelligent AND watchable --- a feat increasingly rare in today's films. You will not have learned of this movie. It didn't even show here in the country. Sige, aaminin ko, the only reason I even bought this film is because James McAvoy is in it. And maybe because Helen Mirren was nominated in this year's Oscar's for Best Actress. I'm thankful for this 2 very shallow reasons though because it led me to finding a movie that, in my opinion, competently portrayed the conflicted life of the famed Leo Tolstoy. As a litgeek, of course I know who Leo Tolstoy is. I could name his novels and essays, and maybe, perhaps, infer on a couple of reasons why he was such a big man in Russia. But the truth is, I haven't read War and Peace. It makes for such an excellent doorstopper that I h

The good thing about having foodie friends is that it isn't hard to invite them for gastronomical explorations. The bad thing is, well, if you're on a diet. Good thing I know my priorities. Kaya, kainan na!!! Sem and Eman (an avid fan of Awesome Planet) have heard of Celsius Gastrolounge in Tomas Morato (walking distance from my workplace). I'm in the mood for an adventure, so I decided that I could sacrifice my scheduled cereals-and-milk dinner for a more filling one with them. Besides, who am I to say no to free food, eh? Celsius is named after the temperature gauge often used for cooking. The unique thing about this place is that they feature student chefs from the International School for Culinary Arts and Home Management (ICAHMS) in Katipunan. As it happens, they are also the group behind Aubergine which I keep hearing about but haven't had the chance to try due to budget reasons. If there'se one thing Sem and I have in common, it's the awful habit of restr

4 months from now I'll be celebrating my last birthday in the 20s range. I know, I sound ancient. 10 years back, I thought 28 is like, an established age already. Obviously, it isn't. And going back to my Life Checklist, well, let's just say I underestimated Father Time and the many things that Life surprises you with. But if there's one thing I want to do on my 29th birthday, it's this: Fit into a really pretty dress and rock it, like, totally. If it means eating nothing but cereals for the next 3 months of my life, I will. I just want one photo of me where I am totally drop-dead gorgeous --- Just one photo that I can hold on to as I cross over to 30. Someday, when I have little David and Sophie rummaging through my stuff, I want them to find that picture and say, "Mommy, you're so beautiful!" And then I'll go, "Ah, yes, I was young and pretty once." And it'll all be worth it.

Oh dear, and to think I waited 3 whole months to watch this film. These days, I get to watch a lot of movies. A lot of them are crap, but at least, they were enjoyable crap. I happen to like the book Eat Pray Love, even if it was bordering on becoming an annoying chronicle of an entitled woman and her soliluquys on self-induced pathos. The thing about the whole Liz Gilbert thing is that she has a few worthy words of wisdom to share. The problem with the movie is that it tried to stretch out those few nuggets and squeezed every tear and blood and life out of it. I'm sorry, I'll say it straight out: I got bored watching this flick. Me, who adores Julia Roberts to her very last incisor teeth. I could say it was because they tried to fit one whole year into a 2-hour film. But no. I couldn't say Julia Roberts is losing her touch because she was just luminous and believable as Liz, even if I know Liz really exists and I know how she really looks like. The book was a minefield of

When I was younger, I really, really, really wanted to be a journalist. They get to go to the most God-Awesome places in the world and look fabulous on TV. But my parents, who usually are the most supportive parents ever, had their doubts. They said I was TOO HAPPY to be a journalist (and of course, they said the field is too small and extremely competitive, but the other comment surprised me more). What does happiness have to do with journalism? Back then, I suppose I did not fully grasp that as an annotator of real life, I would have to bear witness not only to royal weddings, peaceful elections and happy African children with their white, white teeth dazzling the cameras under the midday sun, but also war, famine, violence and human strife. It would just totally ruin my good vibes! Case in point, much like how Eric Weiner’s life had been the past few years. Aside from having a last name that rhymes with whiner, he also has the task of working as a foreign correspondent for the Natio

It’s a weekday -- it had been one heck of a day; almost original in its unoriginality. What do you do? Why, try something new of course! Met up with my favourite boys from work (erm, ex-work?) and the fun thing about eating with boys is that absolutely nobody will tell you to watch your portions. And the only reason they will remind you that chicken skin is fattening is because they want it for themselves! It’s refreshing, I tell you. Just like that, it was boy’s choice, and they decided on Mesa. I tend to doubt restaurants that claim they serve “modern” Filipino dishes, because to me that means, “something similar to what I ate the other day.” But I trust the boys’ instinct (especially if one of them is a self-disclaimed gourmand, yes that’s you Ian whether you admit to it or not). Oh, and must I say, their eating utensils rocks. I let the boys choose what to order, which wasn’t very wise. We ended up with a slew of fried food and artery-blocking albeit incredibly delicious sisig rice

I am a Nerd. Turn me around, upside down, and I'd have distinguishing marks of my true nerdhood. (i.e. callused writing fingers, wrists with early symptoms of carpal syndrome, not to mention the huuuuge butt that professes my sedentary lifestyle). I am also a Geek who likes trivia, mythology and magic. I adore Science although am wary about his brother Math. But both as a geek and a nerd, I never understood the mysterious pull of Robots. When I was a kid, I NEVER watched Voltes V. I just never got the hook about five (were there five?) people inside machines that connect to make one giant robot. I never got the appeal of Masked Rider Black. And as I found out, there was even a show called Macros (tama ba?) which were the predecessors of the now famous Gundam Shirizu. It's a serious dearth in my 80s and 90s education, I am aware. I just can't ride along when people wax nostalgic about Richard and Erika. Or the yellow panties of Annie in Shaider. So now that Gundam is unobtr

I was pissed and I was hungry. I needed good food fast. After a particularly boring seminar in Makati, I decided to pick up my sister in her office along Jupiter Street with full intention of drowning my malcontent in grub and fodder. At around 8 p.m. we walked along Jupiter towards the direction of the MRT and decided to choose a restaurant we haven’t tried before – Discovery Day for Sisters. All my sister knew was that there was interesting Portuguese place that starts with an O. It wasn’t hard to find. After passing Gerry’s Grill, we found O’Sonho. O’Sonho turned out to be Portuguese for the Dream. In fact, that’s how they advertise their food : Dreamy. I am inclined to agree. I admit I have difficulty distinguishing Portuguese cooking from the more common Spanish fare. But having eaten at O’sonho taught me that Portuguese love their spices, and they aren’t as tomato-based as most of Spanish dishes are. The menu offers fish, meat, salad and desserts. Price was not unreasonable. The

Dates could get a tad bit routinary, I realized. But then again, nothing's wrong with routine as long as you know how to color it up a bit. So I have a plan that every month, my friend and I would hold a Discovery Day and visit restaurants I researched on the net. The first on the list is Cafe Juanita. The original restaurant is in Kapitolyo and I was told it was homey as it was Oriental-esque. The Cafe Juanita we went to is the one in Burgos Circle, The Fort. My companion and I never even knew there were hidden gems in Burgos Circle. The restos up in Bonifacio High Street have been hogging all the fame. Parking was convenient (underground) and since we were early for the lunch crowd, we immediately found space to park. One short flight up (this was important to me and my friend), and we were on the right side of the circle and gustatory delights were at hand. Upon entering the restaurant, one would be accosted by color -- LOTS of THEM. There are chandeliers with fabric hanging art

Book in Hand: The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Burbery Song in Mind: Today Was a Fairytale by Taylor Swift The other day, Sex Education for Children was mentioned in one of our office lunch conversations. It seems there's a disparity in opinions about what age should sex education be taught to children. Some say be as honest about it as early as the first time they ask about it (that could be as early as 4 years old when they ask how are babies made) or as late as 12 years old at the onset of puberty. Funny enough, the topic came up again during a ride home with a friend. The discussions reminded me of my own childhood where sex and anything pertaining to carnal activity was screened by my parents with utmost vigilance. Yes, they were the type to cover my eyes when actors kiss on TV. They only bring me to movies advertised in posters with a minimum of 54 bright colours and always has some sort of fluffy animal or an adorable kid with freckles featured in it. I was always sent

Book in Hand: Whodunit? edited by Philip Pullman Song in Mind: Love the Way You Lie - Rihanna My name is Olivia and I am a Facebook Status Update addict. They say that acceptance is the first step to overcoming any addiction; so here I am. How I came this far, I have no idea. It was only 3 years ago when I thought Facebook was for the social degenerates of society – attention whores and oversharers of information. Maybe my fall from grace was meant to happen --- I admit my point of view was a bit harsh and needed a bit of revision. Well, a lot of revision. But I never meant to fall so hard. Not to the point of compulsively checking new status messages from people I’m connected to every ten minutes. Not to get to the point of no return where I start thinking in 420-character mode. Not when I annotate my life in 5 lines or less. Not the fact that those little red flags on top of the page excites me more than a smokin' hot photo of Paul Bettany. Sure, brevity is a skill for writers,

The new people at work are starting to realize it. I'm actually a loner wearing the shell of an extrovert. I made no move to hide. I never misled anyone. I don't pretend to be hyper. I just have, within myself, the capacity to function as an extrovert. But at the end of the day, I always return to my loner self. There are days I just need to be alone or to be with the people I can be quiet with. My family understands me. I hope some day, you will too. It is my fervent wish you will not tire or get bored while I get used to another life being led other than the way I live it. You said you're mostly quiet too... just be patient with me while I get used to our being silent together. I'm really looking forward to that. The kind of silence where words are not really necessary, accepting of the fact that we are different from each other but knowing of the fact that we have found something stronger than words to connect us. I hope we find it, that binding thing. I hope someday

Continuation of yesterday's post.... 4. A Yes-Friend / The Faithful Sidekick Who doesn’t want to have a superbly faithful friend? That one person who you could run to and tell all your morbid secrets to and all she/he would say is, “it doesn’t matter, I love you anyway!” It can happen right? But I kind of overdid it, inside my head. Aside from faithful, I also wanted him / her to be blind to my mistakes, supportive to the point of suicide, domesticated more than docile. In short, I wanted a talking, walking shadow --- seen but ephemeral. But instead of lap dogs, God gave me friends. My friends are the most sober, intelligent people you will ever meet. (Well, let’s re-think sober). They are GOOD. Not to mention practical. And sometimes, the imaginings of wild nights out and professions of undying friendship are nice. But again, not necessary. It’s enough that they’re still here. It’s enough that they love chatty nights in coffee shops, and dinner in decent a

Happiness… it’s been weighing on my thoughts recently. After 28 years, I believe it’s time to understand that defining what makes you happy is, in one way or another, defining who you are. I’m not getting any younger, and I am tired, no, exhausted, of being at the mercy of trends or clichés or tiny boxes inside people’s head. I have watched enough Hollywood movies and God knows how many thousand books to infiltrate my subconscious; perhaps most of them radically revising what is true to me and changed it to what is true to conformity instead. Until now, I have so many frustrations in life --- the downside to a relentlessly overactive imagination. In some ways, what I have always considered as my greatest gift, has also been the biggest leech sucking life from, well… my Life. And I’ve had enough. Watching Christopher Nolan’s Inception last night sealed the deal. I will not live my life in a dream within a dream within a dream. I will know what makes me Happy in this Life. And yet, I wan

For the past 2 weeks, I have watched surprisingly entertaining movies (A-Team), to expectedly great films (Toy Story 3) and unfortunately, lackluster ones (Karate Kid). Yesterday, chalk one up for surprisingly disappointing. Gosh, I feel like a traitor to Tom Cruise. He who I deem as one of Hollywood’s best actors, Scientologist and couch-jumping included. And Cameron, awww shucks, right? Adorable, slightly ditzy but incredibly hot and surprisingly smart Diaz who is just exactly the kind of girl I want to be. God, what happened? First of all, I’d like to know why they bothered with the script at all. It was, by far, the most disjointed movie script Tom has ever done, and that’s including Vanilla Skies and Eyes Wide Shut. So it’s saying something. It must be written by somebody who has influence over the both of them, someone with chops in the maneuvering department. It’s like watching Sarah Geronimo perform for Loren Legarda. You just got to say – WTF? Why did she sell herself so short

I have lost my purpose, yes. I have bored my fair share of people and friends. I have served more than the customary number of parties as a wallflower. I have sucked out light like a black hole in some rare occassions. I have twinkled mostly dark than light, especially during the past years which I have candidly labeled "The Black Years." But then unpredictable as star stuff, lately I find myself coming into my own with apparently no reason at all. It started with cleaning the house and throwing out all the baggages for the last 4 years. Then getting a new job. Then realizing I could handle relationships without hiding under the covers trembling. I still don't know where I'm going, but each step I take lands solidly on the ground. And best of it all is this silent blushing bloom of faith --- it is so much clearer now how God has supported me and gently led me even when I couldn't see because it was too pitch dark. I have been too obssessed about finding a purpose.

True, I have been extremely lucky with my first job because it took me to places in the country I never would have imagined visiting. The “tapon-anywhere” rule sat well with me and sated my wanderlust. I get to travel and be paid for it. And while learning the ropes of my job was mostly tricky (if not sometimes disastrous), learning the tricks to get the most out of my travels proved to be easier to learn. Some projects would demand you travel alone, some in groups with you in charge, and sometimes you’re just along for the ride. The older I get and the longer I do it, the more I realize that traveling really is a succinct aphorism for life. I am now of the opinion that if you master the following tricks, and find its appropriate counterpart in living a Life, you might just find that at the end of all things, you have journeyed well and far. 1. Finding (and Losing) Your Way A sense of direction is not a must-have skill for travelers (because if it is, the number of people who travel wi

We’ve heard it said, we have worlds within us, crevasses so deep, an ocean so vast. I personally like the ocean within us: impregnable, tempestuous, and indiscernible. But for every ocean that roils inside the human soul is a mountain that is equally unassailable and it towers over us virtually unreachable. I have spent years trying to understand my ocean. I figure it is now time to understand the mountains inside. Tackling with the ocean within brings us closer to self-realization. It provides us a chance to break down the basic elements of our existence. Reflecting on the ocean helps us comprehend what lies deep within us. Contemplating about mountains on the other hand, is mostly visual, a panoramic view of your life, which hopefully brings us closer to the dreams we’ve always had, and the barriers standing in our way. In short, mountains help us comprehend what lies ahead of us. I needed this mountain vacation more than I thought I ever would. Ever since I’ve sworn to move forward,

Oh geez. My brain feels like salad today --- maybe that’s what extreme house cleaning does to you. I realized I have absolutely nothing to talk about except swifters and wonder brooms. And believe me, I’d rather do hara kiri than bore you with that. I haven’t had time to play Plants vs. Zombies, haven’t decently finished anyone book for a week. All I had time for were select articles from back issues of People Magazine where I drool all over Chace Crawford and Johnny Depp. Aside form that, I was also forced to sit through hours and hours of telenovela since that’s all my balikbayan aunt and uncle want to watch. (Sometimes, I catch myself speaking like Agua perhaps because that show has rendered me brain dead). No, it wasn’t a week for the cerebral, believe me you. Have to do some mental calisthenics this weekend. I’ll somehow find a way to squeeze that in during this weekend’s paralegal training. I mean, if that doesn’t add some brain activity to my cerebellum, I don’t know what will.

Book in Hand: Graceling by Kristine Cashore Song in Mind: I Belong To You by Muse 1. Halo - Beyonce 2. Therapy - Indira Arie 3. Supermassive Blackhole - Muse 4. Why Don't You and I - Chade Kroeger w/ Santana 5. Hush Hush - Pussycat Dolls 6. Too Lost in You - Sugababes 7. This is How You Remind Me - Nickelback 8. Mad World - Adam Lambert 9. All Star - Smashmouth 10. I Run To You - Lady Antebellum

While I was scrubbing my floor to death and dusting my books til the printed letters took cover, I kept my head busy by listening to an audio Spanish lesson (downloaded for me by kini). :D ?Que ora es? ?Que necessita usted? Quiero unas baterias! Necessito informacion, por favor!! Ayudame! I don't know what it is about Spanish that I like so much. Maybe it's the roll of the Rs or the lisping of the Cs and THs which fascinates me so. Maybe it's because I imagine that one day I will travel to Spain and trace my roots in Madrid. There's even a province called Burgos in Spain and I imagine myself strolling down green lanes and fantstic gardens pretending it's all mine. Back in college, French and Japanese language courses were all the rage. Frankly, I don't get it. One makes you sound as if you're choking on snails and the other makes you sound high and extremely angry. But before you attack me with forks and knives, I reiterate that love of a language is highly

You make me want to be normal. Except that I will never be. I have lived my life taking pleasure and pride in being adamantly "AB". I have taken circuituous roads and unknown short cuts just for the pure heck of not walking the road oft taken. I lived a life of irony and oxymorons --- and I take great comfort from it. And now, I am trying to fit myself into a mold which is obviously too incompatible with my girth or depth, in so many more ways than one. I'm allergic to boxes. Or to be more specific, being inside a box. I have spent too much energy bursting out of them for me to suddenly want to crouch inside and pull down the flaps until all light is shut out. But if you are inside, logic fails, and I find myself enduring the cramp and the inky endless night just to be shut in with you. Inside the box, I cannot breathe, but then you smile and I ask myself, who needs air? I wish I could bring you out of the box with me. I try sometimes, but the language is different and un

One thing I’m starting to suspect about myself is that behind my goody-two-shoes exterior is a competitive obsessive biyatch just lying dormant. I have actually analyzed the whole thing, and I suspect that much of my peaches and cream persona is actually a survival mechanism and not just a selfless desire for world peace. I have no real way of proving this because as it happens, I’m too close to the subject matter (me) and would never see it objectively. But once in a while, something comes along and strengthens my suspicion. Like Plants vs. Zombies. You know, I know, all my friends know, I hate Zombies. They are the foulest monsters ever imagined by the human imagination. I will take on hundred-headed hydrae and overlarge half-rats, half-mange creatures but God spare me from Zombies. Lately though, the world is overrun with a sudden interest and fascination for the unholy Re-animated. Movies, TV Shows, Books and Games all have different versions of these flesh eating, brain-feasting f

It feels a little like brain surgery: how do you decide which parts are important and which parts are just meat? And what if what you thought of as a useless fraction of brain mass now turn out to be the critical piece that controls a vital human function (read: ability to plan and significant points in the cerebral cortex) and you would have to live your whole life not being able to imagine a future just because at one point in time you thought, “oh well that part is dispensable anyway”? I’m stuck. I’m stuck with over 3,000 books inside my teeny tiny house. Not all of it is mine, of course. About 700 or so belonged to my parents (management books, teaching aids, religious texts, reference materials for all possible branches of the social sciences). Approximately 45 belongs to my sister Ella (yeah, she loves to read, obviously). There was a point in time I would’ve felt boastful pride (redundancy intended) in the sheer number of literature available at my fingertips (because I sure as

Have you ever played one of those Hidden Objects Games (HOGs)? I’m currently playing one called Pahelika: The Lost Legends, and it’s quite difficult. So difficult that I have to cheat and download the strategy guide just to move to the next level. I have played dozens of HOGs, and I plow through them somehow without needing to cheat. In the earlier games, sooner or later, the puzzle unravels and you realize you’ve been staring at the answer all along. But this game just plain stumps me because of the utter lack of clues as to what’s next to be done. All you get is a generic exclamation about finding the next clue, and “oh-what-a-pretty-fairy-Garden” and then you are left to your own wits and defenses. The game so frustrates me that a friend told me if I was putting half of the energy it took to solve the befuddled mysteries into finding a boyfriend, I’ll be effing Venus de Milo. It’s so obvious she has never played a HOG all her life. The thing about finding hidden objects is it provid