I love: Italianni's Seafood Florentine

It won't be complete, of course without the bread they serve for appetizer, best eaten with a dip of olive oil and balsamic vinegar on the side. One serving won't be enough... you'll be asking for more.

Their Seafood Florentine is fantastic: spaghetti marinara served with clams, shrimps, anchovies and baked oysters, topped with a heap of savory melted cheese. Try it, try it!

I love Italianni's!

Planet Groove

HSBC GSC Manila's 2009 kick-off party was held last Thursday, November 27th, at the PICC Forum. The theme was "Planet Groove."


South Border in the house

The stage

With Bambi

With VP John and MO Channa

With colleague Myra and our MO, Mother Lily.

Coffee--after the party

Marjune

Pre-party blues

Val tried on something in all the shops we went to. Khyco bought 3 different outfits--he couldn't decide on just one. I found the perfect skirt in the first shop we went to.

Just a thought

Burn-out. It happens to remind us that we are not machines; that we need rest and breakaways, things to strike a balance between work and life; that, yes, we work to live but absolutely, we do not live to work.

So go grab yourself a cup of coffee.

Go shopping.

Have your nails done.

Treat yourself to life's simple pleasures. You deserve it.

Jackie and Math

This is Jackie, hard at work on her Math assignment.

Baby Halen

Meet Satriana Halen, my new inaanak. Yup, her dad named her after Joe Satriani and Eddie Van Halen. Way to go, Ian!
Halen is as cute as a button!

There's magic in a little girl,
In shining eyes and tossing curl,
In winsome smile and dimpled cheeks
And music when she laughs or speaks...


verse from this site.

Finally.

The box...

The planner and the pen that came with it...

A new card, with 6 stickers...

10 more stickers to go and then I'll have another planner. Will probably get the blue one so I can give it to my Dad or either of my brothers.

This giddiness wouldn't make a lot of sense to most, but to the Starbucks addict, getting a Starbucks planner is comparable to the happiness a little girl feels when the Barbie doll Mommy promised to buy her is finally, after weeks or so of waiting, in her eager little hands.

I love it, love it, love it.
Happy!
:P

CaNDS

Found: a haven of pinkness for the modern, stressed-out career woman who's sorely in need of some pampering.

Its name: CALIFORNIA NAILS AND DAY SPA

Interiors: pink, pink, pink! Even the chandelier is unashamedly pink. I do regret not having taken a picture of the bathroom--it's a virtual garden with flowers, bees and butterflies!

Their promise: gorgeous nails and instant La vie en rose!

3 more cups of coffee to go...

...and I'll be getting my Starbucks 2009 planner!

It'll be the red one for me.

Yoohooey! I can't wait!

Thanks to the very supportive people who helped me fill up the card--Rowell, EJ, Migs, and JM. First thing I'll do once I get the planner will be to write down your names on the first page!
;p

SANTA BABY (by Eartha Kitt)

This song always gives me the laughs.



Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me.
been an awful good girl,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

Santa baby, a 54 convertible too, light blue.
I'll wait up for you dear,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

Think of all the fun I've missed,
Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed,
Next year I could be just as good,
If you'll check off my Christmas list,

Santa baby, I wanna yacht,
And really that's not a lot,
Been an angel all year,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

Santa honey, there's one thing I really do need, the deed
To a platinum mine,
Santa honey, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

Santa cutie, and fill my stocking with a duplex, and checks.
Sign your 'X' on the line,
Santa cutie, and hurry down the chimney tonight.

Come and trim my Christmas tree,
With some decorations bought at Tiffany's,
I really do believe in you,
Let's see if you believe in me,

Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring.
I don't mean on the phone,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight,
Hurry down the chimney tonight,
Hurry, tonight.

graphic from Clipart.com.

Sign of the times: the Christmas blues

And what do you know, the holidays are around the corner, once more.

This will be my fourth Christmas with HSBC. The big tree, with its silver and blue trimmings, is up again, and is a beautiful sight to behold; the papier mache Santa Claus once more standing beside it, smiling like some benevolent father. Pity I couldn't take a picture of it--our company is so big on security that snapping away in any part of the office premises is in no way allowed. Well, I could get sneaky and... oh, but I'm a good girl. Hope Santa checks off my very long Christmas wish list.



The wind's got a pretty chilly bite to it--was it like this last year, and the year before? I never could remember. I'm down with a bad cold--have been so the past few days. It seems that Christmas is the season to get sick. Lauded to be a time for merry-making, it is, ironically, also the part of the year where some--if not most--people find themselves at their saddest.

Don't the blinding display of lights and the bright, cheery colors blot out the ugliness, the squalor surrounding us? Do the Christmas carols remind us so strongly of childhood and the fact that we are now adults trying our best to fend for ourselves as best we can?

Yesterday, a colleague of mine was looking particularly glum and I, unable to stand people around me being sad, approached him. "Christmas blues?" He nodded. "Thanks for giving a name to it," he said. And I was, like, oops, maybe that wasn't it, maybe I had brought on more gloom. Oh, well, anyway, during the conversation that followed, I inadvertently jumbled up one of my sentences, which brought on a wide grin from him. It felt nice to have made someone brighten up, considering how cynical people of my generation have become; the contagious holiday blues being one sure sign. If only I could play Santa and spread cheer to those who most need it. If only I weren't so prone to gloom myself. lol

Oh, but I'm looking forward to my nine-day-long Christmas Leave! I'm packing up the kids for a visit to Naga and I know--I just know--that this Christmas will be just as grand as the one we had last year.

I can't wait to go home.

Picture from this site.

Gaga over...

Playlist

Thought I'd give you a peek at the 25 most abused songs on my iPod...

1. Lessons Learned - Carrie Underwood
2. Didn't I Blow Your Mind - Aaradhna
3. Lost in Space - Aimee Mann
4. 32 Flavors - Alana Davis
5. Boat Watcher - Cara beth Satalino
6. Mercy - Duffy
7. Criminal - Fiona Apple
8. Mad About You - Hooverphonic
9. This Strange Effect - Hooverphonic
10. I Would Die For You - Jann Arden
11. Pretty Baby - Vanessa Carlton
12. Coffee and Conversation - Joni Mitchell
13. Love Lockdown - Kanye West
14. Confide in Me - Kylie Minogue
15. 1000 Oceans - Tori Amos
16. Better Than You - Lisa Keith
17. Opelousas - Maria McKee
18. Samson - Regina Spektor
19. Any Man of Mine - Shania Twain
20. A Case of You - Tori Amos
21. Who Are You - Lea Salonga
22. Kiss From A Rose - Seal
23. The District Sleeps Alone Tonight - The Postal Service
24. Calling it Quits - Aimee Mann
25. Better - Regina Spektor


Maria McKee "Opelousas" video from youtube.

I was out Saturday night

This is me wondering if I'd be able to keep my eyes from drooping because of sleep deprivation. I knew it was to be a long night ahead...

I turned out to be as awake as everyone else. I was so kulit that night, I couldn't believe it. Conked out by midnight, though. I am so not the gimik type.

From left: the ever stunning Channa, moi, Cathie, who brought fantastic-tasting pork barbecue, Mother Lily, probably the nicest boss in town, RJ, who's 6 months pregnant but graciously joined the team-building, and Zal, who eventually got cajoled into singing America's "All My Life."
Not in the pics are Jeff, Marjune, Miguel, and Peach. Sorely missed were Tal, Myra and Cyr.

Lit geek update #9: "The Seventh Man"

These past few months, quite a number of people have landed on my blog searching for a write up on this particular short story. They've most probably ended up disappointed because the only thing I have here related to it is a quoted passage.

So I decided to reread the story and write about it.

"The Seventh Man," which is the thirteenth story in Haruki Murakami's 24-short fiction collection, Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman, is, in a nutshell, about the trauma a young boy goes through after the death of his childhood friend, K.

K got swallowed by a gigantic wave while the two of them were taking a walk by the seaside after a huge typhoon hit their small town. In usual Murakami style, the description of the tragedy is nothing short of surreal. The imagery is enough to etch itself on the reader's mind, clinging, disturbingly strong.

The shock of the encounter was, naturally, traumatic for the young boy, and this was something he carried with him through adulthood, disrupting his life for the longest time. Right after the accident, he went through a breakdown, suffering deliriums and physical illness. He had difficulty facing the life he had lived before the episode; he was haunted by constant nightmares.

Salvation came, albeit after long years of struggle (or non-struggle) when he came across a bunch of paintings made by K. Inch by inch, he came to terms with his fear, but only when he confronted it, after turning his back on it for so long.

The last paragraph reads:

"They tell us that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself, but I don't believe that," he said. Then, a moment later, he added: "Oh, the fear is there, all right. It comes to us in many forms, at different times, and overwhelms us. But the most frightening thing we can do at such times is to turn our backs on it, to close our eyes. For then we take the most precious thing inside us and surrender it to something else. In my case, that something was the wave." (p. 177)

The day I marched to Brian

Aside from the onslaught of my beginning-of-month deliverables, this past week was marked by an epiphany.

Let me write about it now so I can make some more sense of it and put it all together. I am not satisfied with mere contemplation.

I have surprised myself (and the people around me), this past year, with constant bursts of assertiveness in the workplace. I use the word "surprised" because those who know me well--not even myself--would not think of describing me as headstrong or self-confident. I am sullen and quiet (or used to be) and most people would interpret that for submissiveness. Others take it for weirdness (haha).

It seems, though, that several forces of nature have conspired to transform me into something else. These forces are: my personal demons, motherhood, my family, certain recent, not-so-ordinary happenings in my so-called life, my former bosses Tin and Lester, the books that I've read, and heaven only knows what else.

Anyway, after this preamble, let me relay an incident which, for me, put an end to my self-doubts (or most of them, anyway) and one important cementing element to my quest for identity:

Last Monday, one of our American business partners, Brian S., was in the site for a surprise visit. At that same time, the plight of a certain client had put me in a quandary--I had spoken to him and I felt it my obligation to help. Now, the aid he was requesting for was turned down based on the policy parameters and its turn-around required the stamp of approval from someone in a director's position. I went to my boss who, unfortunately, was not qualified to approve it. She told me to go to Brian and seek guidance. And I was like, no way, I can't do it and I won't do it--talking to the AVP and the VP, yes, but being within a meter's radius from the BP would be such a horror! This thought, I, of course did not say out loud. Anyway, she said, this will be good training for you in terms of talking to upper management and don't worry, she said, Americans are very much into advocating the open-door policy.

So, anyway, five minutes later, I found myself marching to Brian's office, my nerves surprisingly steady and my heart beating, well, at a normal pace. My knock on his door was far from the timid one I had been used to making. I introduced myself (the nerve!), sat on the chair across from his and smoothly recounted (my voice didn't break! hurrah!) the client's situation. Now, Brian was very nice and explained his decision (which, unfortunately, was a no) in a detailed manner, such that a supervisor of my level would very well understand. I, again surprising myself, felt it my obligation not to give up that easily and laid out my cards more fully, giving him my stand on it, pointing out the details he might have overlooked. He was nodding and said that he agreed with some of my ideas, however, from the business side of things, he advised me that he had to stick to his decision. My face must have fallen a little because he smiled warmly at me and told me that I will be encountering a lot more of these situations and that now was the time to start learning to say "no."

A few hours later, I sat at my desk, still disappointed that the client's request was turned down and then it occurred to me that, hey, not once did I realize the enormity of the task I had taken upon myself to achieve. I went to my boss to iron things out and she said not to worry because I had done the right thing (and I believed so, too) when I stood up for my cause.

This story, aside from the fact that it's a long one, is another piece that I will add to the string of anecdotes documenting my road away from diffidence. I know that this will not be the last in this series. The next ones, I hope, will not be things to make such big deals out of because by then, I would have become better versed at handling them and they would have become part of my norm, quotidian stuff like the trips I make to and from the office everyday.

from YENTL

I am reminded of a thought that occurred to me after watching "Yentl": that if men were a little more like women, then more women would be happier and more men-women relationships would be worth staying in.

Faith and Miracles

I got a really nice e-mail from my friend, Joseph, and thought of publishing it here. It's the story of a little girl with faith as big as the sky...




A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet.

She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes.

Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door..

She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention, but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it!

'And what do you want?' the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages,' he said without waiting for a reply to his question.

'Well, I want to talk to you about my brother,' Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone. 'He's really, really sick...and I want to buy a miracle.'

'I beg your pardon?' said the pharmacist.

'His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now So how much does a miracle cost?'

'We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you,' the pharmacist said, softening a little.


'Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs.'

The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man He stooped down and asked the little girl, 'What kind of a miracle does your brother need?'

' I don't know,' Tess replied with her eyes welling up. I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money.'


'How much do you have?' asked the man from Chicago

'One dollar
and eleven cents,' Tess answered barely audibly..

'And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to.'

'Well, what a coincidence,' smiled the man. 'A dollar and eleven cents---the exact price of a miracle for little brothers. '

He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said 'Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the miracle you need.'

That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well.

Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place.


'That surgery,' her Mom whispered. 'was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?'

Tess smiled.. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost..one dollar and eleven cents....plus the faith of a little child.


In our lives, we never know how many miracles we will need.

A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law.

Unrequited

Para sa mga nagmamahal ngunit hindi minamahal ng kanilang minamahal, isa na rito ang aking kaibigang itago na lamang natin sa pangalang "Cheska":

I am in love with him
To whom a hyacinth is dearer
Than I shall ever be dear.

On nights when the field-mice
Are abroad, he cannot sleep.
He hears their narrow teeth
At the bulbs of his hyacinths.

But the gnawing at my heart
He does not hear.

- Edna St. Vincent Millay

hay. Malungkot, no? Subalit nakasisiguro akong malalagpasan mo din iyan, Cheska, at makakahanap ka ulit ng panibagong sisintahin (pang ilang crush mo na nga ba ito?) 'Ika nga ng nanay ko, ang buhay ay isang "cycle." Magpakatatag ka, aking kaibigan.

Maligayang pagtatapos ng linggo sa inyong lahat.
:)

Nice and new

Quirky

A gift

OBAMA IS PRESIDENT.

Paranoid Park

I didn't expect to like Gus Van Sant's "Paranoid Park." But the movie's drowsy, eerie quietness and the sharp, swift turn the story took, unmarred by any foreshadowing, blew me away.

Watch it.

My unkempt weekend

I am looking at a very cluttered work station; trying to figure out what to write about, how to write it, where to start, how long it will take me to write, and if I'd be able to write, at all.

I'm experiencing one of those "dry blogging spells" which intermittently come about--in my case, that is. Some bloggers have something to write about everyday. What more, they know exactly what form it would take. I am not one of those lucky people.

As further proof of my laziness, I am jotting down--in bullets--some stuff I did last weekend. Writing paragraphs can be so taxing!

I:

* cried over "Yentl." A friend finally found a copy for me, at last! I wanted to strangle Barbra Streisand for not staying and giving me the perfect ending. I mean, I'm an advocate of girl power and all, but, hey, give me my two hours worth of waiting for the girl and the guy to fall into each other's arms! Sort of how I felt after reading John Fowles' The French Lieutenant's Woman.
* watched "Love in the Time of Cholera" and put Javier Bardem from number 3 to number 2 in my top 5 favorite actors.
* watched "Sabrina" for the second time. To commit the sin of stating the obvious, Audrey Hepburn was heart-breakingly beautiful in the movie. And Humphrey Bogart was, well, old.
* helped Jackie with her Math assignment (whaddya know, I still know division!) and Kim with his subtraction. They had a week-long break from school and waited until Friday to do homework. Reminds me so much of myself, way, way back. Ah, to be a kid again. But minus the math homework, please.
* waited the entire weekend for the Internet to come back (turned out it was here, all along--story in previous post).
* went to Robinson's Place, bought a gift for my brother, rummaged through the bags on sale, tried on several pairs of shoes (without buying a single pair, I'm proud to say), and ordered a glass of Peach-Mango shake at Almon Marina. It's always Christmas in the malls, as if people had gifts to buy all the time, plus the money to buy those gifts with. Alas, not for me.

Happy holidays!

The Internet was down for close to four days, or so I thought. As it turned out, one of the cables was unplugged. I felt so stupid. I am such a whiz.

*************************************************************************************

On a birthday note, I'd like to greet my very handsome and ultra-smart baby brother, Otom, a happy birthday. He turned seventeen last Friday.




clip art from this site.