The good news, and the really awful disastrous news

So Ateneo forced the "do or die" game with La Salle on Sunday.

Guess who's home for the weekend?

Sorry, P. in Tokyo.

There are no words.

Really bad, Really good, bad, ok lang, good

The only way to get over a bad movie is by watching a good one.

So I watched "Service for 10" to get over the movie (called, funnily enough) "The Ex".

The Ex was baaad. As in really bad. As in non flying bird (i.e. "foul") bad.

I picked up my copy at Metrowalk because Zach Braff was in it. So was Amanda Peet. So I'm thinking, it can't be that bad. And I saw the trailer on i-Tunes, and did not remember it being foul, so I forked out my P55 for the DBD and that's P55 I'm never getting back. Not to mention the hour and half of my life I wasted watching the film.

It was painful to watch. It was one awkward and stupid scene after another. I felt bad for Charles Grodin, I've always thought he was a nice, safe character actor. (Plus he had some work done so he kinda looks funny.) Amy Poehler was wasted.

Anyway... so I cleansed my movie palette with "Service for 10", a Brit indie film I knew was good. And I was not disappointed. It was like The History Boys, sans the "I want to be the British cousin of Dead Poet's Society" vibe.

After you watch a good movie, you think all movies are good and well written and cohesive, so of course the next thing you do is watch a movie that will remind you that you are wrong.

For me, that movie was "In the Land of Women." I saw it because Adam Brody was in it (so ok, I have thing for pa-intellectual skinny boys). It was not painful to watch, and some scenes were actually pretty good, but 25 minutes into the movie the director seems to have forgotten where he was headed and he lost his way. He never finds his way back, I'm afraid.

So now I'm thinking, ok, I watched another bad movie, let me watch a really bad one, para madala ako. So I will be shaken back to my good movie sensibilities. I watch "Music and Lyrics", the date movie with Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore. Hugh looked old, Drew was skinny. Parts of the dialogue were great, pero medjo walang plot.

Back in the land of "let's watch movies with some sense and value", I popped in the indie film "Broken English" with Parker Posey. It was a neurotic thinking person's romatinc comedy. Very well shot. It was set in New York/Paris. This movie had great buzz, an exceptional cast, but somehow didn't quite live up to its expectations (the writing was unfocused). That said, I still thought it was pretty good.

My shower gel is possessed by Jesus

We have all read about these contemporary revelations of the Divine:

Mother Teresa on a cinnamon bun:



Jesus as a water stain:



J.C. on a potato chip:



Well, here's another one for the books: my Johnsons's Baby Shower Gel (not pictured) is possessed by Jesus. Seriously. I've had it for over six months now and I can't seem to finish it. It seems to be miraculously multipying. I am convinced that the phenomenon is a cross between the miracle at Caana and the multiplication of the loaves and the fishes.

I've considered making my shower stall into a shrine (and selling tickets to the faithful to take a quick view), but the candles get wet everytime I take a bath.

Walang pasok (aka Birthday ni Buddha)

There are 16 public holidays in Hong Kong. There are so many because Christian (Good Friday, Christmas), Buddhist (Ching Ming Festival) and Communist (National Day of the People's Republic of China) holidays are observed.

Now I love holidays (who doesn't?). But I don't care to know why there's no work. Basta walang pasok. Isn't that what really matters? Besides, most of the Buddhist/Chinese festivals are linked to the lunar calendar, so the dates swing wildly.

Sometime ago, I had dinner with a friend's houseguest, right before a Buddhist holiday. We got to talk about the upcoming event and she pressed me to explain the reason for the day off.

"Who the F cares?", I wanted to say.

Instead I said it was Buddha's birthday. I mean, with all the re-birth going on (not reincarnation dummy, I know my World Religions) in Buddhism, the Big Guy must have at least 16 birthdays.

x x x

But if you must know, because you have nothing better to do on a holiday than to think about why it is holiday, today people celebrate the Mid-Autum Festival. No work in Hong Kong. It's supposed to be some harvest festival. People light lanters, look at the moon while eating -- you guessed it -- mooncake.

Happy now?

Major Harm, No Fowl

The news wires aren't carrying the story, but there is no duck or goose for sale in Hong Kong.

The Brave Ones

The last time monks protested in Burma (in 1988) 3,000 people were killed.

It's not my problem

This climate change issue. Few scientists disagree on by how much the seas will rise (about a meter, causing devastating floods all over the planet). But they disagree on when this catastrophe is supposed to happen. Some say 50 years, others say 100 years and yet others say 150. So lets average all that (some have shorter/longer time periods, but let's not count them since that complicates this post) and you get a hundred years.

The seas will rise in a hundred years.

Let's think about that for a moment. A hundred years.

By that time, I will be 132. P. (who I consider as my link to the future) will be 103.

This really is not my issue. So CNN, please stop taking up my time with reports on how big the hole in the ozone layer is already (yawn) and footage of the latest celebrity that has gotten on the oh-so-cool climate change bandwagon.

Now before you judge -- I don't drive in HK and recycle when I can. I do this because it's the smart thing to do. Not because I'm afraid the HK bay will gobble me up.

Dreams for P.

While at Brown he will major in Finance and minor in 17th Century French Architecture. He will speak French with the most charming of accents. While in college he will apprentice in investment banks. Maybe one in London, spending weekends in Paris.

He will join cru (since he was on the team in high school).

He will then get a J.D. in Columbia, pass the NY Bar.

Work in BigLaw for two years, then get his MBA in Stanford.

He'll make the shift to investment banking. $300K on his first year.

He will marry a French woman who will call him "Fe-leep".

They will have blonde children.

In the summer he will take them sailing.

So far, so good

I've been trying to remember stuff that as I a kid I hoped I'd do someday and am actually doing/can do right now.

I've made a list and so far, I think young Jona would be very pleased:

1. I can stay up late and drink Coke in the morning.
2. I drive a really cool car.
3. I live in my own apartment. (Young Jona would have preferred a loft though.)
4. I'm a lawyer.
5. I can walk into any retail store and buy anything I want without having to ask Mom.

Paper to plastic

When I was a kid, I'd go through my father's old Time and Newsweek magazines and cut the same picture out week after week after week.

I would cut this picture out:




It came in many sizes. Actual card size, miniature size. I'd cut them all out. I'd put them in my wallet and pretend they were real. It's funny because I don't think AMEX was even accepted in the Philippines in the early 80's (I also don't think I knew what a credit card was at 6). I just thought the card was very cool.

No need to pretend now.

It's not green though.

But it is very cool.

The funny thing about halves

When you say "I'm half kidding", you actually mean (or at least you sound like you mean) that you're more serious than you are kidding.

When someone says, "I'm only half serious", it sounds like you're not serious at all.

But when you say "The glass is half full" you're being optimisitc, "half empty" you're resigned about things.

So which half is it more?

Repolyo

I am currently obsessed with cabbage.

Cabbage is my favorite vegetable and in the last 36 hours I have consumed two heads of cabbage. Isn't that just a little excessive? I think so, but cabbage from China is good sh*t. (Monster, you still owe me a decent Tagalog translation for this.)

I boil the quartered cabbage head in chicken stock for 5-10 minutes (be generous with the salt and pepper). Make like a parrot and consume the cabbage and stay full for at least 6 hours. And a head of cabbage only costs HK$4.

Ang saya ng repolyo.

Do svidaniya, B.

Flew home over the weekend to say goodbye to Chum. She's moving to New York to go back to school (again). (Really, how many post graduate degrees does a girl need? I have two and I think that's two more than necessary.)

I should've known something was up when she asked me to fly home. Chum doesn't even call me on my birthday. When I called to ask what was up, she shared the good news and said it would be great to catch up.

And we did. Gossipping like two school girls while picking on black cod and splitting a frightfully expensive bottle of wine. It's been some time since we've hung out, but we still complete each other sentences and still don't agree on anything.

Take it easy, B. I'll see you when I see you.

Further adventures in a Chinese gym

If you've been reading this blog when I started it in mid-2006 or if you've read the archives (you must be very bored or very disturbed to do this) you will know that I've never been a member of a "real" gym before.

But I am now, and I'm fascinated over gym protocol and behavior. Allow me to share with you some of my observations.

No fat people. I am the only overweight person who goes to my gym. Everyone else is buff and cut or else Sudanese thin. Why would you go to the gym if you were Sudanese thin? To build muscle? Then why go on the cardio machines? If you are Sudanese thin you need a saline drip, not a gym membership.

Gym outfits. Everyone comes in "proper" gym outfits. You know, the ones you buy at a sports shop specifically to go the gym. I wear ratty Ateneo Law or CU t-shirts. This has not worked out for me. Combine excess poundage with pambahay attire and people look at you with sad eyes and feel sorry for you. Thank God I don't give a flying rat's ass what these people think.

Make-up and jewelry. I can't understand this. Why do some of the women look like they've just stepped out of the beauty parlor on their way to a wedding? It is inappropraite to get on a step master wearing an anklet. Also, it is morbidly disgusting to perspire while wearing foundation.

Agressive gay men. With the amount of wicked glances by the weight machines, one wonders what goes on in the locker room. Senator Craig would have a field day.

This sort of sums up my relationship with the internet

Weekend plans

So S. and Wonder are coming over. I e-mailed S. to find out what the plan is and what they want to do during the three days they'll be in town.

Here is her (unabridged) response:

I think we should try Macau (ano ba ang magagawa dun, except to eat Lechon Macau? ... teka, yung lechon macau ba originated from Macau? siguro naman di ba? why else would it be called lechon MACAU?!?). Anyway, I digress. We should try Macau, let's figure out what we can do there. How much is the ferry going there? How long does it take? Should we do overnight?

I think may lechon sa Macau in the same way na may lumpia sa Shanghai.

Jobing at metlog

This is an excerpt from my chat with S., wife to Wonder and mother of the boy-genius Carlson (my godson). The text has been edited for brevity, clarity and to correct spelling errors. But the punch lines are real. You can’t make this stuff up.

S: Wonder is travelling to London, will be in Hong Kong from Saturday to Tuesday.

J: Why will Wonder be here till Tues?

S: Yeah. wala lang. stopover ng cathay ang hk di ba?

J: yeah... but layovers don't usually take 4 days

S: well, he asked me until when i can take a leave, and i said probably tuesday

J: i see... and where pray tell were you intending to stay?

S: why, at 168 apartments of course!
128?
186?

[Note to reader: my apartment building’s street number, from where it gets its name, is 338.]

J: HAHAHAHA
sige pa

S: [expletive S. had me delete] ano nga ba apartment mo?
I know there's a 2
and an 8
it's 3 numbers
there are not that many permutations. This is not rocket science.

J: I am laughing out loud.

S: 128

J: It's 338.

S: of course not! you are misleading me on purpose!
It is 128.

J: don't you think i'd know where i live?

S: right. 338. ok. Fine.
STOP

S: i have a new bading word

J: what?

S: well first it was "anik-anik"

J: what does that mean?

S: which means, uhm, abubot

J: ok

S: or nonsense
as in "anong laman ng bag mo?"
"ay, anik anik lang"
"or anong laman ng contrata?"
"anik anik"
the new one i learned is "chak chack candy"
or is it chuck chuck candy?

J: I feel a blog coming on

S: ha ha ha
but do you know what it means?

J: um, hello?

S: so do you?
It sounds like chuk chak chienes

J: I think it’s pronounced chook chak tienes

S: fine

J: which just means "tienes", which just means "nothing"

S: so how do you spell chack chack candy? or C.C.C.
i am planning to use it in a sentence, as in
"wonder, may plano ba tayong mag chak chak candy?"
stop, it's so bastos. grabe!

J: so it means sex?

S: yep

J: i see. i love it

S: di ba? eh yung "wiz"

J: ano yun?

S: wala. as in "may alam ka ba diyan?"
"wiz"
except you prolong it -- so it's like saying wiiiiiz

J: do you prolong the "i" or the "z"?
i see

S: unless you string it with other words, like, "wiz ako alam diyan."

S: before the year ends bading na jologs na ako, i swear

J: so you will become a jo-bing?

S: gasp!
di ko alam yan!
jologs na bading!

S: you just invented that, no?

J: it's been around for ages [Note to reader: Yes, I just invented it. But S. didn't know that -- until now.]

like metlog -- metrosexual na jologs

S: oo nga, i think i should blog about this

Q: What do Bin Laden, Macoy and I have in common?

A: Our worlds changed on September 11.

• Bin Laden brought down the World Trade Center.
• Ferdinand Marcos was born.
• Jona joined the Firm.

Welcome, V!

Let us (me and my army of 5 readers) welcome my newest reader: V!

A few things we should know about V:

V can sing.

V and L have the most beautiful home. (Thanks for having us over. We will be back! -- that's not a threat...)

V and L were this close to being married by Ate V.

That would have really been a blessings in the sky.

Redemption

Ateneo won over La Salle in what was a very crucial UAAP basketaball game yesterday.

I was in town yesterday.

I didn't watch the game though. Didn't want to tempt fate that much.

I am redeemed.

I've got game

Monster's here from Oslo and she gave me reindeer ham and sausage slices.

Leave it to Monster to find the best gifts.

Maraming takk!

My unexpected meeting with the iPhone

One of the things I need to do as part of my job is to take propsective associates to lunch to woo them. To tell them how great the Firm is and how working in an exciting city like Hong Kong is the greatest thing in the universe.

This is a great perk, I'm not complaining. But after some time, the lines get old, and the conspiratorial whisper I give to the applicant, "It's ok, you can relax now, the interview is over" sounds rehearsed. I try to focus on the good food and the fact that I can actually bill lunch time, but the fact is, after a dozen of these lunches or so, they simply get boring.

Until yesterday, that is.

Yesterday, the kid in the funny looking pin stripe suit (these kids wear the funniest things) discretely pulled out what I thought was an i-Phone from his pocket to answer a phone call. So I said very calmly from across the table, "Stop right now. Is that that an i-Phone you have?"

This must have frightened the poor child because he did literally stop, look at me and say, "Um, yeah. You want to see it?" He then handed me the gadget.

Since I did now want to speak to the person pin stripe suit boy had on the line, I refused and said, "say goodbye first".

He then realized his mistake, apologize to both me and the caller, then handed me the gadget again. (This act did not go unnoticed. I put in a good word for the oddly dressed kid.)

That baby is amazing.

It's smooth, slim and sexy and has rounded edges. The touch screen works like magic. It's like the damn thing came shooting out of a sci fi movie ala Purple Rose of Cairo.

I'd never buy one though -- it looked too fragile. Like it would break or worse, get scratched, if I dropped it or put in my pocket. If I simply handled it. It is meant to be admired, behind a glass window.

No shit, Sherlock

I find it amazing that researchers in Germany actually spent time and resources to come to the conclusion that men fancy physically attractive women over those who are plain looking. (Actual CNN headline: Men want hot women, study confirms.)

Full CNN story HERE.

This reminds me of the "experiment" I conducted for my second grade science class. I wanted to get to the bottom of that question that has nagged every 7 year old child --

"Do cockroaches need air?"

And if you should ask, "how, pray tell, do you go about finding the answer to that puzzle?"

Easy. First I caught four cockroaches (if you knew me at 7 you would know that this would be a piece of cake). I put one pair in two empty glass bottles. One had the lid closely shut, and the other bottle's lid had holes I'd punched in with an ice pick (God, I can actually remember doing this!)

SPOILER ALERT: The results of the experiment may shock you.

At the end of the day (sorry, wasn't keeping a record of how long it took for the cockroaches to asphyxiate) the cockroaches in the bottle with no air holes died. The roaches in the bottle with the air holes lived for a couple of days. (To be honest I don't remember what I did with them.)

"I therefore conclude that cockroaches need air."

Body Jam

A long time ago I would go to tae bo (aerobic kickboxing) class. It was Chum's idea. After work we'd go to this dance hall "along the riles" near South Super Highway, and for one hour a couple of times a week, jab and kick and hook and bend (as if dodging a punch).

Those were fun times. We'd go and bicker about our classmates while we hung out in the waiting area, but when the class started we'd find spots in the hall that were the farthest from each other. So we could make complete fools of ourselves without the other one knowing.

A few weeks of that and you "figure out" the movements and can actually do them on your own (without helplessy mimicking the person in front of you). As with all exercise routines, the sequences of the movements contain patterns, and after a few classes, you're practially Billy Blanks (well, not really).

And now am sort of at it again. I go to the gym near my apartment, and they have these classes... they switch every day and I thought that yesterday was Body Combat day. Well, it wasn't. It was Body Jam day. And Body Jam is --

The ultimate dance-based workout! BODYJAM® is an intoxicating fusion of dance and aerobic moves. The blend includes the latest hip-hop, funk and Latin music set to pre-choreographed moves, leaving you with an experience you will not forget! With an emphasis on easy-to-grasp dance moves and breaking out a good sweat, this is definitely one of the world’s best dance workouts yet.

Good thing I can dance.

Spooting

Ever notice how balikbayans dress a little weird?

Am not saying puffed up polka-dot bloomers with leggings and shiny flats (that's strictly HK apparel), I'm just referring to the slightly different clothes they wear. Clothes bought overseas. There's a subtle difference (notice how I jumped from "little weird" to "subtly different") between how balikbayans and how local Pinoys dress. (The same can also be said about men's haircuts. A guy's haircut from outside the Philippines is markedly different.)

It's the same white shirt, but the one made in France or by Brooks Brothers has the buttons in the "wrong places" or has "too many buttons". It's the same khaki pants, the pockets are different. Not as many pleats; too many pleats.

My transformation started with a pair of glasses I bought earlier this year. It looks almost exactly like my old ones, but that part of the glasses that holds both lenses together, that short piece of metal -- the glasses I bought here has one that is uniquely shaped. And you wouldn't notice unless you look closely. But the glasses viewed entirely don't look "usual" because of it.

I've mentioned the shirts I made a couple of months ago. They're ordinary business shirts, but the fabric is thicker than what we have at home. Textured. The colors are "off" too. The lightest shade of pink you can imagine.

And my shoes! The decorative buckles are muted, but actually bigger.

Funny how slowly, ever so slowly, I'm turning into a balikbayan myself.

Remembering Nanay

My maternal grandmother died 15 years ago today.

I try to think of her as often as I can, so as not to forget.

Memory lapses, even when summoning up the most precious things.