Out for Lunch

You Are What You Read

2007-03-30T06:44:00.000-07:00

Books seem to an important element in my household. Gino reads an average of one to two books a week, I average at least a book every two to three weeks - graphic novel and fan fiction not included! If Maddie da dog can only read, I'm pretty sure she'll manage chew on a couple every now and then especially if they are books on food, sticks, possums and cats (because these are things she's perennially obsessed with!).

I just wonder though; if the saying "you are what you eat" is true, should the same adage apply to the books you read? Gino devours books on genres like history, war and fantasy/sci- fi and not mention his sheer appetite for Marvel, DC comic books where heroes wear those funny undies and sexy lycra tights! So what does that say about him? If I didn't know him at all and were to judge him based on his 'literary' collection, I'd say he's a war freak and a geek and that I should run away from him as far as I can! Thank goodness I knew better and never did mind that tiny 'glitch' in his character. Otherwise, I would have missed out on his other 'endearing' qualities!

As if my reading list is any better :( But at least my list more mainstream that perhaps I'd be forgiven if I indulge on an occasional trekkie novel every now and then!

I actually love to nibble on books by Alexander McCall Smith, Kathy Lette and Helen Fielding to name a few. Most of them are fun, light and entertaining. They make me laugh, cry and frustrated all in a single page that keeps me wanting to go back for more. I also love getting my teeth into thriller novels by Scott Turrow, John Grisham, Robert Ludlum and Dan Brown (sue me if you wish but I thought da Vinci Code and Angels and Demons were page turners - but I'd skip the rest of novels though ). And of course, I shouldn't forget JK Rowling for the Harry Potter Series and Neil Gaiman! (Don't forget hunky, rockstar Neil!) I loved Stardust and that book kept me sane while I was confined in hospital for five freaking days!

But I guess if you really want to know more about my personality based on what I read, perhaps it would also be wise to know the books that made a significant dent to my character.

1.) Enyd Blyton series - 'The Wishing Chair' was the first book I ever read without the 'pictures' - and I loved every word!!
2.) Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys series - Went gaga over this series that I would borrow a book or two from my Grade School library every week. And please don't even mention the TV show with Pamela Sue Anderson, Parker Steveson and Shaun Cassidy!
3.) Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis - need I say more? But really, his writing style is was less scary than Tolkien so I opted to read him first!
4.) Lord of the Rings Trilogy - Tolkien - totally intimidated by his writing style but I only read the book after seeing 'Fellowship of the Ring" on the big screen and I wanted to find out what happened next without waiting two years for the second movie to come out! I literally got depressed when I finished the book because I didn't want it to end!
5.) Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen - this book socially stunted me because I thought my Mr. Right would be someone like Mr Darcy!
6.) The Prophet - Kahlil Gibran - this should be a prescribed book for LIFE 101.
7.) The English Teacher - RK Narayan - RK Narayan has wicked sense of humour. He's the only author I know who sees humour in death and grief.
8.) Like Water for Chocolate - Laura Esquivel - Magical realism used to perfection! First time I've encountered a novel with a recipe at the beginning of every chapter! This novel is full of angst and passion, you'll literally reach boiling point by the end of the story como agua para chocolate!

So there you have it. The books that fill my days and my vivid imagination. I'm not exactly sure what they say about me but I'm always open for interpretation.

Happy reading!

I'm a two faced carrot!

2006-10-08T01:10:00.000-07:00

If someone asked me a year ago if I was the type of person who'd go to my High School Reunion, I would have answered a straightforward NO. And I probably wouldn't even know why I wasn't that interested. I didn't have any traumatic experiences in High School, I wasn't that unpopular with classmates nor was I a troublemaker in class that I'd be too ashamed to show my face to my teachers or classmates. Probably, I just wasn't that keen to go back to that part of my life where I still didn't know exactly who I was. Plus the fact that I hated school. I hated the idea of having to sit through classes where the subjects being taught were of no use to me. Not all the subjects though. I did like English, Social Studies, and even Math. But the rest, I didn't really care much. I remember going to school just because I had to, and then switching off. Then, my mind would just start wandering off to a distant reality and everything else around me became non-existent.

I would daydream. A lot! I'd daydream about my crushes (those yummy tennis players I use to 'socialise' with at this Tennis Club. And by socialising, I mean staring at these gorgeous Junior tennis players from a distant and pretending that they knew I existed!), I'd daydream about Mazinger Z, Voltes V and Charlie's Angels and yes, Leif Garret. I remember having a him as my boyfriend in an alternate universe created in my head where I was also very rich, very famous and oh so gorgeous! My obssesion with my alternate self made me a bit distant from my classmates in Hign School. While everyone else was busy living their lives as any teen-ager would, I was somewhere in the clouds oblivious to the events happening around me.

Fastforward to the present; I got contacted a few months ago to attend my high school reunion. I'm still not sure whether I'd like to go but at least it's not a straightforward NO. Perhaps I should make an effort and revisit my time in the past. Who knows, I might see Leif Garret again in the alternate Universe all fat and grungy. Hopefully, I'd still be very rich, very famous and oh so gorgeous!

All is fine

2006-09-19T03:38:00.000-07:00

You should see the house right now. It's in total chaos. No, I didn't go on strike doing housework nor did I give up on Gino's compulsive habit to clutter the place by collecting the most obscure and useless gimcracks! It's because we finally decided it was time to give the house a bit of a face lift by ripping off all the dingy carpet in the bedrooms, sand and polish the original wooden floorboards underneath and give all the walls a fresh paint.

Initially, we were very excited about the idea of doing everything ourselves. We found the whole excercise so "Australian" as if we intentionally embarked on this project to keep Peter Costello happy. But in reality we were just very motivated to do something out of our comfort zone and keep our hands dirty. So when the opportunity came, we found ourselves deep into the DIY mode, equipped with nothing but two hours worth of instruction from Bunnings on 'How to Sand Floorboards'(God help us!).

A few weeks deep into the self-imposed DIY torture, I was becomming less inclined to do the dirty work and I was seriously contemplating to hire professionals to finish off the job. Not because it was hard to do. On the contrary, the work was quite simple. But I never realised how long and tedious the job of having to prep the wooden floors for sanding! It was such a boring process, I would have rather watch a three 'dayer' Cricket match! (Cricket: a summer sport where it is acceptable for spectators to read, to have tea with the old ladies, to catch up on much needed sleep and pluck unwanted facial hair)! But thank goodness we have finished all the prepping, Gino have sanded the all the floors and now we are on the homestretch. In a few more days, we are actually going to have new polished floorboards in our rooms! And it feels good knowing that we did it ourselves.

Now for painting the walls, it may take another few weeks. Hopefully I won't get too anxious or bored that my coffee breaks will take longer than my actual painitng hours. If that's the case, we'll just continue living like refugees in our own house, and perhaps we might consider setting up the Christmas tree in the garage this year.

The Vacuum Life Creates

2006-08-20T23:44:00.000-07:00

Life sucks. Life can be mean at times. He plays games with you. He screws with your head, with your heart and sometimes if you’re not careful, he can drain your spirit up to the last drop of your soul leaves you. And when he’s finished, he turns away leaving you lying in your own filth, empty.

Do I sound bitter? I am bitter. I’m bitter with Life. And why shouldn’t I be? A few weeks ago, after writing that stupid entry about how I finally have learned to come to terms with not being able to fall pregnant (short of saying, I'm better off not having children), I actually found myself with child! Can you imagine how deliriously happy I felt?? For the first time in so many years, I felt euphoric! And I felt so proud and smug about the pregnancy that even if it was just in its early stages, I told every person I know. Hell, I even told people I hardly knew! I wanted to let the whole world know I was capable of procreating and I'm not some useless piece of meat whose used by date has already expired. I felt young, alive and full of vitality.

But of course as Life would have it, that feeling didn’t last very long. Two weeks after finding out I was pregnant, I lost my baby. The pure happiness my unborn child gave me faded quickly as it came and now, I feel bitter and angry. I’m bitter with Life and I’m angry with myself for being bitter. I feel I’m such loser.

But don’t worry; I know I’ll get over this. I always do. I have Faith. And she’s going to hold it all together for me. Someday, she’ll help me reconcile with Life but not today. Today, I’m going to grieve with Faith holding my hand and in silence she’ll keep me company until I’m ready to face Life once again.

Keep me in your prayers.

Hiatus

2006-07-11T03:47:00.000-07:00

As you may have noticed, I have been in hiatus for the past months and I can only blame myself for being so slack and lazy.
I also turned 40 recently so if it's any way significant to my lack of desire to write, you can blame time for making me this old too soon!! I'm still in shock so words don't easily come by my near senile brain. Thanks for being patient anyway.

A lot of things have happened though. But I won't bore you with the details. All I can tell is, all is well and life is good. We had
weddings, pregnancies, birthdays, holidays and more pregnancies. The pregnancies are not mine though, which is a shame but I'm not complaining. At 40, i don't think I still have the energy to wake up in the middle of the night to feed babies and change diapers. If babies can self-feed, self burp, self nappy change, self amuse and heck, even self educate, I'll probably be banging my head against the wall, cry myself to sleep every night and ask God every freaking minute why I was bereft of motherhood. But babies are just cute leeches to me now. If I was younger, I'd be more than willing for them suck all my blood dry. But now, I feel I need all the blood I can keep just get me through the day. So they can pretty much bugger off.

But don't get me wrong, I'm not closing my doors to motherhood. If for some bizzare natural phenomenon that a baby does land on my lap, I'll probably still be ecstatic. Really. But after months and years of sleepless nights, hectic mornings and chaotic days of child rearing, I'll probably be banging my head against the wall, cry myself to sleep every night and ask God every freaking minute WHY ME? Why me? Especially when he/she starts borrowing the family car.

On that thought, I'd rather that they bugger off! For now..at least..ask me tomorrow..I might change my..mind..i ..think...

Timeless Beauty

2006-03-24T06:36:00.000-08:00

In my last post, I was able to paint a picture of my mom in words. This time I thought my late father's photographs should do the talking.

Imagine

2006-02-18T06:23:00.000-08:00

I received a SMS text message from my sister in Manila asking me to ring home as soon as possible. Being a worry wart I panicked when I got the message because I thought something must be wrong with my mom. Being 85 years old and prone to all kinds of illness and accidents, I can't help but think of the worst when you receive a curt message to, as ET would put it, 'phone home'. And when I say 'accidents' I don't only mean 'falling down the stairs' kind of mishap. FYI my widowed mother has been seeing this ancient, aesthetically challenged fellow (well, at least compared to my late dad he is!), and I've been having these relentless nightmares of my mom calling me one day and telling me that she's pregnant and will be getting married soon! (Que Horrors!! I even had a dream one time where this old fellow was already coming to our house in Manila for sleepovers! Susmaryosep!!!).But to my relief, the urgent need of my mom to talk to me had nothing to do with her 'boyfriend'. The only reason why she wanted to talk to me was because she wanted to tell me that she loved the present I sent her, which was a book by AB Facey titled "A Fortunate Life". It's an autobiographical novel written by an 80 year old World War 1 veteran who felt compelled to write his memoirs to be able share his personalised accounts of significant Australian events to his grandchildren, like the battle in Gallipoli and the Great Depression. I thought it would be a good read for my mom since she herself is keen to write her own story.

Why not? If there's one person I know who has a real story to tell is my mom. Her story can outshine any story from books endorsed by Oprah or any cliched dramas shown on television. Imagine being born in the 1920s in a small town in the North, where your family is being referred to by the locals as the 'holy family' (go figure). Imagine spending your youth in the walled city of Intramuros and being raised by a single mother, perhaps shunned by society for being a product of her parents' indiscretion. Imagine having to seek refuge in the jungle to flee the Japanese invasion during WW2 and still manage to attract numerous American soldiers as suitors and attend local dances in the oddest times. Imagine having the most intriguing love affair with a handsome prisoner of war with whom she would secretly meet by banks of the river at the back of the Malacanang Palace, completely disregarding the danger of being caught, as long as she could spend a few stolen moments with the man she loves. Who would have thought that years after the war ended, they’d end happily married with many children and eventually grandchildren to boot.

Oh what a life my mom had! She loved being a wife to a passionate and intelligent man who was highly principled and with great integrity. She loved being a mother to thirteen children, an aunt to numerous nephews and nieces and a good friend to those who were lucky enough to know her. Aside from having to run a huge and often chaotic household, she even managed to have a successful career as a teacher/educator and make significant contribution to the public school system despite having to serve under the oppressive Marcos government. She loved her family, she loved her work and she loved her life.

It was only after my father suffered a severe stroke almost ten years ago, that my mother’s life came to a complete halt. It was the darkest moment in her life yet according her, also her most humbling and fulfilling experience. It was that very moment that she realized the unconditional love and devotion she had for my father. She spent most of her waking moments by my dad’s side, patiently nurturing his helpless body and broken spirit. Imagine having to pray for miracle everyday for five long years and hoping that her husband will somehow recover from his illness only to lose the battle in the end. But a battle well fought. Never for a moment during those dark moments did I see my mom lose her faith or give up hope. And even in defeat she was gracious and was able to accept the will of God in the end.

And now at 85 years of age, her story continues to unravel. If you ring her at any given day of the week, she’d most likely be out, fighting a crusade to save the trees along Katipunan Rd in Quezon City or help relocate the families living illegally along Commonwealth Avenue. I just learned recently that she’s been helping the Mayor of Quezon City set up child care centres for the less affluent families in the area so their children are well looked after and not left wandering aimlessly along the streets while their parents work for a living. I am constantly puzzled where she gets her drive and motivation. I’ve always thought that 85 year olds should be quietly sitting on a rocking chair the whole day knitting or darning old socks not organizing soirees with college friends or going out on ‘dates’ with a high school sweetheart! Imagine being in your twilight years, and still act as if the world is still at your feet. But again I ask, why not? Why the hell not???

Housebound

2006-01-31T21:07:00.000-08:00

There are many times in your life that you're left helpless because your body doesn't seem to function as well as you want it to and you're left 'housebound' until it gets it's act together. Well, that has been my fate for the past few days when I was ordered by my doctor to stay in bed and rest due to a medical condition.

Keeping myself planted in bed, ignoring the urge to do the cleaning and wash the pile of laundry on a sunny day have been a challenge but nothing beats having to overcome boredom and complete idleness. They say that it's when you're at your most idle state that you are most vulnerable to unworthy thoughts and reckless acts. Thus explains the wayward, out of school youths being drawn to the evils of drugs, alcohol and unwanted pregnancies. Being bored and idle is a curse and unless I find a way to dispel it, I will completely go insane!

The sad part is, I've watched all our Star Trek, Stargate Atlantis and Robotech DVD collections and I'm still not satisfied with the distractions. I'm just not looking forward to another day of doing nothing but indulge on sci-fiction TV series. I tried reading a book but I noticed that my concentration is not 100% unless I read it whist on a running train going or coming from work.

Nevermind. This predicament will not last forever and I think I should just enjoy my workfree days while I still have them. For sure when I start work again I'll be dreaming of days like these when I can just sleep til midday, have breakfast at 1 pm and just watch DVDs the whole day. It sounds like heaven when you've been tied to your workdesk for months BUT take it from me, it becomes hazardous to your health after three days!!

Post Christmas Message

2006-01-24T18:59:00.000-08:00

I know it's way over Christmas and I should try to move on to more relevant and important topics like which characters should be featured in the next Star Trek movie or do Vulcans really just do it every seven years? But I just thought someone up in the clouds must have read my last entry and magically manuevered my cursor to stumble into this article by Bryan Patterson, published by the Herald Sun on Christmas Day 2005. Read on!

http://www.heraldsun.news.com.au/
common/story_page/0,5478,17657554%255E24909,00.html

Why we bother with Christmas

2006-01-04T21:45:00.000-08:00

I love Christmas and the Holidays. I love the idea of being able to dedicate a day to celebrate LIFE and HOPE in a meaningful and humble manner by remembering how we believe Christ was born. But it saddens me how most of us get it all wrong year after year.

It saddens me when people give more emphasis on the material things than the real spirit of Christmas. Everything revolves around shopping, buying and receiving presents and indulging in food and alcohol. It's a phenomenon. As soon as the Christmas trees and tinsels elaborately decorate the store windows and carols are played repeatedly over the radio, people begin to feel the frantic need to shop, the desire to consume and maximise their credit card limit. It's like being hypnotised! And I admit, I'm guilty falling into the same trap. But in reality, after all the presents have been distributed and opened, the alcohol and the Christmas spread consumed, we are left with nothing except a fat waistline and huge credit card bill.

Is this what Christmas is all about? And don't give me that spiel about Christmas being spent with family! I have witnessed people bitch about the crappy presents, loud mouth relatives and overbearing in-laws year after year (ehemm...). Sometimes I'm puzzled how some relatives manage to walk out the door after a huge Christmas reunion, with smiles on their faces, not even feeling the knives impaled deeply on their backs. Tsk...probably because they managed to throw a few sharp knives themselves?!? Ouch...no wonder my back hurts!

And you know what else irks me? When grown ups make their own Christmas wishlist! I know, it can be such a pain receiving gifts that you don't particularly like or want but who cares? Isn't Christmas about giving not receiving? Don't get me wrong, I know people do it for practical reasons and giving obvious hints, I guess, is acceptable. But to write an actual list doesn't sit well with me especially if you're over 12 years old.

(Big sigh).

Sometimes I wonder why we bother celebrating Christmas?

I guess we bother because underneath all the stress, the hangovers, the overrated presents and superficial Christmas trimmings, we smile when we see children jump for joy when they find their presents carefully hidden under the Christmas tree and our hearts swell like a balloon when they open them in glee.

I guess we also bother because despite of our weird relationships and the yes, the crappy presents, we are able ponder and reflect about how blessed we truly are. And even for a brief moment we are reminded to always have HOPE and aspire to have PEACE. That baby humbly born in the manger, wrapped in swaddling clothes helps us to remember just that.

Hope you all had Merry Christmas!!

Accident

2005-11-22T21:38:00.000-08:00

I just witnessed the most horrific car accident this afternoon on my way home from work. I was about to cross the street to catch my train at Melbourne Central when I saw a truck smash into a red sedan when it was about to make a hook right turn at the intersection of Swanston and La Trobe Street. Upon impact, the truck dragged the car 100 meters further down the road and the screeching sound of the brakes was so piercing, I felt like my ears were going to explode. It took me awhile before I got over the initial shock but there were several other witnesses around me who were in tears that I had to ask them if they were okay. I guess they were shaken far worst than I. As I studied the accident scene, there was crowd of people hovering around red car, some trying to help, others probably just sating their curiosity. I wasn't sure what the right thing to do when you witness an accident as horrible as what I just saw but all I could think of was to run away as far as possible from the scene. I thought it was most logical thing to do since I know nothing about First Aid and I'm pretty sure I'd faint at mere sight of blood. So I did.
Now my question is, how do you get rid of this traumatic incident from your head? I keep seeing the accident happen over and over again.

Right now I'm okay. But I keep thinking of the woman in the red sedan. She was screaming in pain when I left the scene. And I didn't even dare to look at the driver of the truck. I can imagine the guilt and anguish he must be feeling right this very moment. I don't know what's worst, being the victim of the accident or the one responsible for it. But in this case I don't even know who is responsible?

My friend told me that all I can do now is pray. Pray for the lady in the red sedan, that she may recover from her grave injuries and for the truck driver, who may be physically unscathed but emotionally and psychologically marked by this horrible accident forever.

Too Close for Comfort

2005-10-27T19:15:00.000-07:00

"Where is this love? I can't see it, I can't touch it. I can't feel it. I can hear it. I can hear some words, but I can't do anything with your easy words." - Alice (Closer 2004)
Have you ever seen a human heart? It looks like a fist, wrapped in blood! Larry (Closer 2004).

If you're into thought provoking, poignant and downright in your face films and you haven't had the chance to see the movie "Closer" starring Julia Roberts, Jude Law, Natalie Portman and "dreamy" Clive Owen, I suggest you go to the nearest video shop and rent a copy now! While my girlfriends didn't particularly enjoy watching this film, I, on the other hand was riveted and consumed by the story. It was so honest and realistic, I felt like I was omnisciently watching someone else's tragic life unfold before me. I literally sat through the entire movie with my mouth hanging open! .....Okay, I'm probably exaggerating. I was actually pigging out on buttered popcorn and Italian pastries from Brunetti's while watching the film so leaving my mouth hanging for the entire movie was physically impossible. But that's beside the point. I was in awe. The movie made me confront the ugly faces of deceit, betrayal and infidelity that I was left speechless in the end. I never realised how distressing the experience could be. No wonder my friends were quite depressed after watching it. Oddly enough, I wasn't. I just felt like my eyes were stretched wide open.

The film starts with the chance meeting of Alice (Portman) and Dan (Law) on the opposite sides of a busy street in London. Alice is a stripper who just arrived from New York while is Dan is a struggling writer who supports himself by writing the obituaries for a newspaper. When Alice was about to cross the street, she was hit by a taxi which Dan witnessed in horror. Dan approached the unconscious Alice and when she came to after a few seconds, the first thing she said to Dan was "Hello stranger." After Dan brought Alice to the hospital for some minor treatment, they passed by a cemetery where Dan's mother was buried and shared a few brooding moments together. Later, before leaving Alice to go back to work, Dan finally learned that her name was Alice Ayres.

I'm not going to elaborate on what happened next since I really don't want to spoil it for those who are brave enough to consider watching the movie but all the deception and betrayal happens two years after Alice and Dan's first meeting. Dan, who became the live-in partner of Alice, gets smitten by Anna (Roberts) who gets involved with Dan's prank victim Larry (Owen) and the story becomes complicated and convoluted from thereon. Ironically, you'll find Alice as the most honest and pure among the four characters but in the end Dan finds out that Alice wasn't really who he thought she was. While visiting the same cemetery he visited with Alice when they first met, he notices the name "Alice Ayres" engraved on a tombstone, a girl who apparently died to save the lives of three children.

To appreciate the movie, it should be watched with an open mind and attention to detail. The dialogue may be a bit too crass, vulgar and even offensive for some but I thought each line was brilliantly written and well thought of. I also must say the actors were superb especially Natalie Portman and Clive Owen. They deserve the Oscar nomination they received this year for playing their characters in this movie.

Again, you've been warned. This movie is not for the weak hearted. If you are looking for a film to watch to be entertained, to escape reality or to feel good about the mysteries of life, a film from Disney might be a better option for you.

It's Ken!

2005-10-13T23:49:00.000-07:00

It's highly probable that you might come across a celebrity in Camberwell, a leafy, middle class suburb east of Melbourne. Geoffrey Rush lives in Camberwell and so does the family of Kylie Minogue and Kate Blanchett. So it wasn't a big surprise when I saw Ken, the ex- of Barbie, board the train at Camberwell Station this morning. I swear it was it him! He was very tall, blonde with blue eyes. He wore a bod hugging round neck grey shirt with long sleeves and a smart pair of slacks. The shoes he wore were those trendy square toed ones in flesh colour! Now, not everyone can get away wearing that but it looked fabulous on him! Goodness me, he looked like he just stepped out of a fashion catalogue.

Hiding under my cheap, dark shades I stared at him since I was sitting right across where he was standing and I asked myself, why, in the name of George Bush, did Barbie dump him? Then his mobile phone rang. He had an Australian accent. Duh!? My mind played a trick on me again. Yes, it dawned on me...Ken is a doll BUT so was this guy!

Star Sighs

2005-10-06T20:25:00.000-07:00

Word of the Day

2005-09-29T23:08:00.000-07:00

I learned a new word today. Gimcrack. Meaning, a showy but useless object. It says in Dictionary.com that it probably was an alteration from the Middle English word gibecrake, meaning a small ornament.

I got so fascinated by the word because it reminds me of my home. Sad to say, I keep a lot of them and not by choice. Friends and relatives give us all sorts of figurines, music boxes, good luck charms and souvenirs that I'm practically running out cabinet space and shelves to put them. Worst, Gino has a habit of collecting all kinds of action figures, Japanese robots, matchboxes and not to mention his meticulously constructed model aircraft, automobiles and tanks! However, my main problem lies not with the gimcracks but with the loved one who loves collecting, receiving and giving them to me. You see, what do you say to your husband who comes home with a grin on his face and tells you that he bought a surprise present for you? And when you anxiously open the present, all you'll find is an action figure of Captain Jonathan Archer of Startrek Enterprise instead of a box of Lindt chocolate? Don't get me wrong, I do love Startrek but I'm a practical person and I'd rather have the real thing. But kidnapping is illegal therefore I'd really, honestly rather have the chocolates! So now I'm stuck with a plastic Captain Archer, standing idly amongst the likes of Green Lantern, Darth Vader and Mazinger Z, all dusty and in dire need of a good cleaning.

Gino also has a penchant for figurines, especially those given by people close to him. Over the years our expanding menagerie consist of a Fertility Buddha, a lipstick wearing monkey, a tiny elephant, a Liberace miniature piano and a relentless golden cat which persistently waves at the fates 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. There's actually more to that collection but these are ones that often catch my attention and make me sigh in frustration every time I lay my eyes on them. Sigh.

Perhaps one day we can find them new homes? Probably somewhere they can be appreciated, used or played with instead of being left untouched on the shelves. But who knows, maybe one day we'll actually have kids of our own and these gimcracks we now keep will magically transform from inanimate, useless objects into real friends and become wonderful source of diversion and creative ideas. Who knows??

Sleep, Late Night TV & John Cusack

2005-09-25T23:39:00.000-07:00

I love my sleep. And Gino knows that under no circumstance, unless the house is on fire, that he is allowed to wake me up when I'm already asleep. Otherwise I'd get really, really, REALLY cranky!

But last weekend was different. I was already in dreamland when Gino stormed into our room and hollered "John Cusack is on David Letterman!" Without hesitation I rose from my warm bed, ran to the lounge where our tiny 34 inch TV resides and glued my dreamy eyes on the screen. And there he was...immaculately dressed in a white shirt and dark suit, sitting vulnerable across David Letterman who bombarded him with a lot of interesting questions mainly about his fascination with extreme sports. Although the interview didn't really divulge much about his personal life but at least there was a certain degree of openness about him that gave avid fans like myself, a chance to get to know him better.

Yes, I admit, John Cusack is no Brad Pitt but he has depth and it shows in the movies he made. I have yet to see one movie he made that would leave me feeling that I have been robbed of my valuable time and money. From "Say Anything" to "High Fidelity, "Bullets Over Broadway" to "Being John Malkovich", his movies are usually witty, compelling and introspective all at the same time. Of course there are few movies where I think he just did them for the money (i.e. "America's Sweetheart" and "Con Air") but they were still entertaining and worthwhile to see just the same.

He has a new movie coming out with Dianne Lane titled "Must Love Dogs". It's a romantic comedy about a recently divorced woman trying desperately to get back into the dating scene. It's probably not a masterpiece but I'm sure I can expect a few good laughs and memorable dialogues. Besides, it has two my favorite things in it. Dogs and John Cusack.

Stuck in bed

2005-09-09T00:41:00.000-07:00

What does one do when you’re stuck in bed doing nothing? I’ve been sick for the past two days and I’m barely recovering from my flu. My body is still aching but it’s more tolerable and I’m grateful that I can now sit up and write using Gino’s laptop. I guess writing is a better option than watching daytime TV shows which is pretty much what I’ve been doing to past the time. But to be honest, I’m getting sick of Dr. Phil and Oprah, and I can only take in so much of watching other people sort out their personal problems. I have enough problems of my own and since they haven’t featured any stories I could actually relate to the past two days, I find myself changing the channel. However, there’s nothing else worthwhile on and I’d rather choke to death than spend at least one minute watching Days of Our Lives or Young and The Restless. It is times like these that I wish I subscribe to cable tv.

Turning 40

2005-08-25T23:40:00.000-07:00

Next year, i'd like to turn 40 gracefully. Yes, accept the fact that I'll soon be considered middle-aged, that I'm past my prime and have to start planning for my twighlight years. I must also brave the next few years with extreme caution. Why? because being 40 is synonymous to the M-word which means there will be bouts of depression, moodiness and temporary insanity and I have this vision in my head where I'm pushed to the edge and find myself chasing the object of my angst with a serrated knife or a Celine Dion CD, depending which one is more painful. I really have to make sure that all my loved ones are warned and are within safe distance if and when they decide to cross me.

But really, turning 40 shouldn't really be that daunting. Except for a few wrinkles and grey hairs, I haven't changed much. Although I do feel some part of my skin hanging loosely around my waist. But I have started swimming again three weeks ago and so I hope that should keep my waistline in control.

However, turning 40 doesn't really mean much to me physically. I think what actually scares me is the fact that at 40, I should have at least have something to show for. Four decades is a lot of time and if ever I'm given an evaluation of how I have lived my life in the past 40 years I should be able to prove worthy of those years. So here I am, writing a list once again which seems to be becoming a futile exercise;

Well...let's see; (1.) I have no children, but I do have a kid for a husband (does that count?) who loves me very much. I also have a mother who hasn't disowned me and siblings who still adores me (I think) and lots of nephews and nieces and relatives who are still eager to spend time with me...., and don't forget, I have lots of wonderful friends and I don't owe them any money (yet) - therefore, in terms of relationships, I think I'm doing fine.

( 2.) I don't really have a career to speak of because I have given up teaching 6 years ago for a less stressful admin job in a university, but I do my job well and my coordinator loves me for it! I have considered going back to teaching on numerous occasions but at the moment i'm quite content being a support person to academics and my fulfillment comes from the fact that I'm somehow contributing to the education of the youth.

(3.) The bank still owns my house, but I do pay my mortgage and bills on time and I hardly have money owing on my credit card which only means one thing. I have learned to live within my means and have not succumbed to the evils of materialism.

(4.) I have visited 16 countries, learned 3 new languages, won two club tournaments, wrote a few stories and produced one play - although please don't ask me to produce evidence for these 'accomplishments' because all I can present are a few pictures, a couple of sentences, some drafts and lots of memories. You just have to take my word for it.

(5.) And lastly, I'd be lying if I said I have accomplished a huge deal for my soul because I am humble enough to admit, that this is one aspect I seem to struggle with everyday. I have no idea if I'll ever achieve Nirvana or be self-actualised in my lifetime but the mere fact that I have committed myself to my faith is a feat in itself.

Well, my list is done. While I'm definitely not Gandhi or Mandela, I think I've done okay. I may have lived a mediocre life for now but since I'm only 40 I still have a long way to go. As I approach my next decade I think I'll see myself as someone who still has a lot to offer since I haven't really burned out and given my all. So watch out world!

Now, where's that Celine Dion CD....

Junk Thief

2005-08-11T23:48:00.000-07:00

While queuing at Coles' checkout to pay for my oatmeal, honey and sunflower seeds to replenish my 'food pantry' in the office, something caught my eye - in big bold letters, the headline on one of the gossip mags declared that IT'S FINAL, Jessica Simpson and Nick whatever his name is, are getting a divorce!!! Boo hoo, I'm shattered...devastated...yes, totally heartbroken...NOT. Who bloody cares?! Who believes that crap anyway? But of course, I reached out for a copy and browsed through it. And since the queue was not getting anywhere, I managed to read through an article about Brangelina and their United Benetton family, wishing that the checkout lady will take her time so I can also read the next gossip about Britney Spears and her much publicised pregnancy. As the queue started moving, I read as fast I could, gorging every morsel of gossip I could before returning the magazine where it belonged - back on the rack. Why should I spend my dollars on trashy magazines when I can read them for free? Ha!

Confession of an Addict

2005-08-03T18:26:00.000-07:00

Hello, my name is Celeste and I'm a Star Trek addict. And if you ask me when and how it happened or what life-chaging event occured that drove me into this desperation, I cannot give an outright answer.

For those who knew me, they can attest that I was far from what I have become. I was raised and bred a jock. My whole family was into sports and I spent most of my adolescent and adult life playing tennis, badminton, volleyball or doing laps in the local swimming pool. I was athletic, out-going and full of energy. For me, staying indoors and watching or reading sci-fi on a sunny Saturday afternoon was considered a sacrilege.

So now, it's quite difficult to fathom why all of a sudden, I have this huge obessession with Star Trek. So obessessed that if you asked me what I did over the last weekend, I would say, watched old Star Trek: TNG episodes on the video, spent a good couple of hours reading the "Surak's Soul" and downloaded a couple Star Trek fan fiction and some virtual Season 5 of Star Trek Enterprise over the internet! So obssessed that I'm actually contemplating to go to the Star Trek Convention to be held in Adelaide this coming October, dressed like my favorite Vulcan, T'pol! So obssessed that I now have login access to the www.startrek.com website where I write my episode reviews and express my rants when events in some of the TV series don't seem to coincide with the Star Trek canon. So obssessed that I'm actually considering naming my first born Spock!

Yes, I now live a sad existence and up to this moment, I cannot figure out how this addiction have gotten out of hand. I really think I need to see a counselor or a therapist. Hmmm...perhaps Deanna Troi can help?

Quantify This!

2005-07-21T19:20:00.000-07:00

Gino and I will be married for 7 years this December. We have been together for 9 and known each other for 19. It's quite odd when you quantify the amount of time you've been with someone. It gives you a sense of accomplishment and adds value to your emotional "assets."

I guess if I try to quantify all the aspects of my life in years, it will probably look a bit like this;

1. Financial...20 years to pay off mortgage. Looks grim.
2. Physical...2 years (?) before I consider cosmetic surgery. Sigh.
3. Mental.... 5 years (?) before menopause. Scary!
4. Social ...21 years of waiting for John Cusack to ask me out. Pathetic.
5. Emotional... 7 years cohabiting with a comic obssessed, computer gee...nius who drives me insane when he blabbers about quantum physics and alternate universes. BLISS!

I have it really good afterall :)

Tell me what you think?

2005-07-18T02:32:00.000-07:00

Last night, Gino proudly showed me his newly built model tank. He followed me around the house, like a child craving for maternal attention and would not leave me alone until I looked at his precious little work.

There were times where I would try to act in awe and would comment on how beautiful the color was or how he was able to capture the details on the console, or the metallic texture of the panels. But last night I was on the edge of my sanity, probably because my monthly "visitor" was already knocking at my doorstep or I was still in the process of recovering from the remnants of my Mondayitis. I was quite abrupt and impatient with Gino that I just brushed him off with a nasty comment.

"I'll never appreciate your models Gino. I don't know why you bother showing them off to me!!" I growled.

I saw my husband's face fall in dismay and my heart was pierced with guilt. He took his model tank and slowly walked out of the room. I decided to say something to ease my harsh comment but ended digging a deeper grave for myself.

"I mean, it's a tank for crying out loud, how pretty can it get??"

I shuddered with what I have become. A heartless, cruel and acid tongued wife.