The life we would have had

You'd move here, get a job writing features articles for almost nothing. Then an editorial gig a few months later. Some days you'll just lose yourself in a market, a maze of little streets.

I'd get a real place with a real kitchen where you'd make non-pellet beef stew, spongey Swiss rolls.

We'd go on trips during long weekends. Krabi, Siem Reap, Saigon, Phomn Phen.

Or just sleep in and watch French movies all afternoon.

Here are other things you can sell

1. Luneta
2. The right to appear on a P5 coin.
3. Rights to name the airport (or kung small time ka, a waiting shed)
4. Your first born son (but there would be no takers)
5. Your soul (oh wait, but you've sold this one already, haven't you?)

I believe there are degrees in everything.

There is a difference between shooting someone and chopping someone up.

There is a difference between chopping someone up and eating someone.

There is a difference between committing plunder and pardoning it.

The good news and the bad news

Bad news first.

Bad news: I'm overweight.

Good news: I have unbelievable amounts of self discipline.

Bad news: My unbelievable amounts of self discipline have remained untapped.

Good news: I summoned the self discipline and started going to the gym like a maniac.

Bad news: I injured my knee.

Good news: I saw a doctor.

Bad news: Doctor's in HK cost a fortune.

Good news: I get paid a fortune.

Even better news: I have insurance.

Bad news: Doctor is believer in holistic approach to medicine and sent me to a therapist. (I want drugs, damnit!)

Good news: The words "deep tissue massage" were used.

Bad news: Therapist turns out to be sketchy looking Indian guy.

Unbelievably fantastic news: My knee is better.

Beserk drunk elephants get zapped

A cautionary tale, my friends.

Who knows, if I persisted in my old ways, THIS could have been about me.

WTF?!?!*

Now I think we've all seen (o sige, for you prudes, I'm sure you've heard about) some pretty bizarre, warped, weird, strange, kinky things...

But this one is just plain perverted.

Children, look away.

Look away.



Post may have also been called "Reason 742,819,538,618 to love those Japs".

Reason 742,819,538,617 to love those Japs

Though street crime is relatively low in Japan, quirky camouflage designs like this vending-machine dress are being offered to an increasingly anxious public to hide from would-be assailants.


Ms. Tsukioka also designed a disguise for children: a backpack that transforms into a Japanese-style fire hydrant, concealing the child.



Photographs and captions from the New York Times.

Because I am beyond self-obsessed

Some people Google themselves.

I Acronym Finder-ed myself.

J.O.N.A. has several meanings:

• Journal of Nursing Administration


• Japan Organic Natural (this is just a bit pilit)


• Japan Organic & Natural Foods Association


• Journal of Northwest Anthropology

Jona appears in two acronym meanings:

• NJL: Nambu-Jona-Lasinio (phenomenological model of quantum chromodynamics)


• SCRJ: Schlittschuhclub Rapperswil-Jona (Professional Ice Hockey Team, Switzerland)

Uuuy, photo essay daw...

It was a three day holiday in HK this weekend and so naturally, I returned to my Western European roots and went for a hike.

Naturally.

The hike we went on is called Stage 8 of the Hong Kong Trail, the route from To Di Wan to Tai Long Wan. To know more about the Hong Kong Trail, a series of 8 walks in (you guessed it) Hong Kong Island, click here.

So we started off at Shek O National Park and after briefly losing our way (we weren't actually lost, we just weren't sure where the trail began, that's all) we found this:

Now Shek O Peak doesn's sound sexy. And if someone said, "Hey Jona, let's go hike to Shek O Peak." I would have probably said, "Parang no." But thanks to the geniuses who run Hong Kong's park system, I agreed to hike up the "Dragon's Back". Has a much sexier ring to it.


The first hour you're walking through a mountain with no view. This was the part of the walk I enjoyed the most. When there was overgrowth -- it was cool and you had to jump over streams, watch out for the rocks and make sure you didn't twist your ankle. Here's a picture of A. who I conned into walking with me.



You climb for about an hour and when you get to a decent elevation, you see this:

Climb a little bit higher and you see this:

The walk is called Dragon's Back because once you reach a certain elevation, the trails follows the ups and downs of a set of hills. It looks like this:

You keep on going...



And then you get to the top:



And then we walked down to the town of Shek O:

We walk around a bit and checked out the local temple:

We had lunch. Sorry, no pictures of the salt and peper tofu, but here's a pic of my lemon soda.


[Aside: I am now silly crazy about soda water. On weekdays (libre kasi yung soda water so opisina) I drink about 3-4 cans a day. Yes, it makes me burp excessively; but I read somewhere it's good for digestion.]

And sat on the beach for the rest of the afternoon. Well, I actually slept for the most part.









While waiting for the bus back to Central, A. spotted a mural on a nearby house:



If you look closely, the parrot is sitting on the water pipe.

How stupid do you need to be...

to believe this story.

Gaguhan na ito.

8 glasses is just ridiculous

As most of you know, I've started what some people call a "lifesytle change" -- I quit drinking and started going to the gym. I've also started to watch what I eat. (Food does not move; it just stays on my plate.)

Further to this "healthy lifestyle", I've started to read stupid "health articles" written by dumb people for dumb people. (Lots of lists, all very short pieces, plenty of graphs, and tables.) Am not saying the articles are wrong or badly written; they're just dumbed down -- like all the writers went to the Reader's Digest school of magazine writing.

But anyway, I digress ...

All these "how to live a healthier life" articles proselytize about the virtues of drinking 8 glasses of water a day. Drinking 8 glasses of water a day has become the first commandment of healthy living now; and we all accept this as fact and something we should aspire for.

But it's just plain ridiculous. And as P. would say, "and I'll tell you why".

I tracked how many glasses of fluids I drink a day (not just water) and I've realized that eight glasses of anything within a 24 hour period is just not sustainable.

Morning coffee -- 1 glass (actually one mug)
Morning soda water -- 1 glass (actually one can)
Soda water during lunch -- 1 glass
Afternoon coffee -- 1 glass
Afternoon soda water -- 1 glass
Dinner drink (water) -- 1 glass
Post dinner drink (tea) -- .5 glass
=======
Total: 6.5 glasses (and only 4 glasses of which are water)

Thankfully, the guys at Darmouth Medical School have set the Readers Digest guys straight.

My descent into stupidity

In an effort to regain some IQ points that I have shed due to my work-out regimen, I have taken to listening to "The Philosophers" podcast. Essentially some British guy telling me what I already know about Plato and Kant.

Actually I don't really listen to what he's saying, I just enjoy the cadence of the commentator's voice.

My God, I really am turning into an idiot.

Top 10 things about not drinking

1. No hangovers
2. You save so much money
3. You lose weight
4. . . .

[someone please help me out here]

Deja vous

I saw this picture of Ricky Martin while browsing through the NYT last night:



Doesn't this remind you of his Livin' La Vida Loca shtick, which is, by the way 8 YEARS OLD?

Again, if you've got a good thing going, run with it.

For your viewing pleasure

If you get the chance, go see Fauteuils d'orchestre, the French movie of French movies. Scenes of Paris, check. Existential angst, check. Cute gapped toothed French girl with short hair, check.

From the IMDB plot synopsis:

A young woman arrives in Paris where she finds a job as a waitress in bar next to a theater. She will meet a pianist, a famous actress and a great art collector, and begin to have her own dreams of fame...

And then there is Cashback. To call this movie brilliant is too much. It's not that good. But it is amazingly good. The camera work edgy, the entire premise edgy. (Insomniac on the nightshift of a 24 hour supermarket can stop time, or at least he thinks he can.) The writer and director, a man named Sean Ellis expanded his Oscar nominated short film (also called Cashback) to make this movie. This just shows (a) he is unimaginative and (b) when you have a good thing going, run with it.

You keep used plastic bags in a drawer

If you are reading this post, chances are you are Filipino. And if you are Filipino, I am CERTAIN you keep used plastic bags in a drawer.

We all do. It's like some bizarre mark of Cain.

I know, creepy. In a really weird, non-cool way.

Exercise makes you stupid

It does. Really. I've been at it for over 7 weeks now and I am significantly dumber and more uninteresting than I was before I started.

And here's why.

When I don't exercise, am usually lying in bed or on my couch reading or thinking. Yes, just plain thinking. I believe that thinking by myself in complete silence is one of the greatest things in life. You can wander in your own little world. Testing and disproving your silly theories about life and the concept of wakefulness and technicolor dreams (I believe there is no such thing).

The ideas that play in your mind when you are in your pyjamas, lounging on your off-white couch are different from the ideas that bounce around your head when you're on the treadmill. The exercise ideas are bland and aseptic. They're about work the next day, dinner that evening, the laundry you're waiting to get delivered. Lounging ideas think about how digital pixilated pictures should be able to be blown up without blurriness (you simply multiply each pixel by two or four; a computer should be able to do that -- easy) lounging ideas think about whether there are any fat Vietnamese people.

In the last seven weeks I have also given up alcohol. This has made me really focused, but also really stupid. Not just learning impaired stupid, we're talking birth defect stupid here. I have nothing even remotely funny to say at a dinner party. People look really ugly and greasy food does not taste as good when you wash it down with soda water (my new addiction).

It's great being able to fit in those "thin pants" I keep in the back of the closet. I also sleep better and feel more rested in the morning.

But it's a sad fact -- exercise is bad for your mental health.

The other white meat

A couple of weekends ago I schlepped to my favorite Vietnamese restaurant for some pho. It was 11:58 a.m.

The doors were shut, the lights closed, but you could see the waiters standing at attention inside.

The sign at the door said they open at noon.

It is now 11:59. And the small "crowd" in front of the restaurant consists of me, a white man carrying a plump baby (with the cutest, fatest feet) and an Asian woman fawning at the child as if it were hers. It was hers.

My frustration over the one minute wait must have been visible because the man with a baby said, "Forgive them, they are very professional."

I responded truthfully, but without thinking, "I am so hungry I could eat your baby."

"Oh my God, I can't believe I said that out loud."

Instead of exhibiting shock, the couple beamed at me. The mother responds, "I know what you mean. I want to eat her up too." And she grabs those useless, but so edible feet.

Apparently, admitting to wanting to consume someone's else's baby is a great ice breaker.

Buying a good bra

I apologize in advance for the indelicacy of this post. But lately I've been giving a lot of thought about buying bras. Happy ending first -- I bought a couple of great bras at Marks and Sparks over the weekend. But only after a lot of mental agony.

x x x

The source of almost every woman's first bra is their mother. Your mom will give you a "trainer" or some other "starter" bra that will almost always be made with cotton, be white, have no pads, no underwire and will be itchy as hell.

You will wear this for a few months (maybe even a year) and then "graduate" to a "regular" bra, again, almost always bought by your mother. Cotton, white, no pads, no underwire and thank you Jesus, less itchy.

As a girl gets older, she starts buying her own bras, finding her own style and preferences. Padded, with underwire, lacey, multi-color. Any combinations thereof. The selections are infinite.

The thing is, I am not most girls.

Until this day, I wear white, cotton, no pads, no undwire and thank you Jesus, non itchy bras.

And as styles of bras become more modern and trendy, you can imagine that buying a "simple" bra can get tricky. Specially if you're "blessed" in that department. I'm no Dolly Parton, but in Manila, buying bras for gals like me can be a challenge. Don't you agree, N.?

It's a fact -- almost all bras are padded. Sorry to break this to you, Dad and G. (the only two males who read this blog). Buying an unpadded bra is like buying a yellow car. There are some out there, but you have to look for them. Most unpadded bras are made for young girls -- the trainers I mentioned. I think I've also mentioned that I've outgrown those years ago.

Most bras have underwire. I understand this gives extra "lift" to those who need it. (God I pity those poor women. I've never owned one, but I'd think it would be a bitch wear.)

So for the last 20 years or so, I've been buying facsimiles of the same bra. Most of them sold by a Pinoy manufacturer. Does this sound like something your grandmother would do? Because it surely sounds like something mine would do; I guess when it comes to bra preference I'm an old soul.

The Philippine-made bras while a perfect fit (figuratively and literally) lose their elasticity after a year. So you need to replace them regularly. And that's tricky if you live in HK. HK, where the women have even smaller breasts. Sigh.

Thank God for Marks and Sparks, where bras are made for Caucasian women and my bra size is like a size 6 for shoes (ie the most common size). Where white, cotton, unpadded, no underwire bras are sold by the truckload.

Why I stopped drinking

I used to drink a lot. And no, not a lot for a girl, a lot (period). During an average dinner party, I could have 4 glasses of wine and not flinch. If it were a "drinking party" (i.e. inuman), I could effortlessly down double that amount (the operative term here being effortlessly). And if you've seen me in action, you will know that I'm not exaggerating. It's a statement of fact -- malakas ako uminon -- noon.

Hold on to your seats friends, but in the last 30 days, I've had nothing to drink. Nada.

No, I have not found Jesus (he lives in my shower gel bottle). And no, I have not finally given in to my mother's constant "reminders" about my drinking.

I stopped drinking because I could (period). I drank to have a good time, to enjoy the taste of good liquor. To relish the lightheadedness after the third drink. I did not drink because I had to, or because I was sad or wanted an alternate reality.

Drinking to me is like reading fiction, it's a hobby. My days of boozing were great; and who knows, I might take it up again, but for now, I have no intention or desire to.

Praise the Lord.

STPPFAW

Jessica Zafra blogged about STPWW -- Support The Penniless Writer Weekend. About how she convinces her friends to buy her lunch, breakfast, coffee, a pair of shoes once a month.

I thought about adopting the same concept to myself, but somehow, Support The Penniless Project Finance Attorney doesn't ring the same bell.

Caution, medjo bad

I went to see Ang Lee's Lust, Caution last night.*

Ang Lee's the guy who did Brokeback Mountain, arguably the best movie adpated from a short story. If you have the story and own the video -- go back to the scene when Ennis (Heath Ledger) finds out Jack (Jake Gyllenhaal) is dead. Read the story again and then watch the scene. Grabe, ang galing. Mapapaiyak ka sa galing.

Ang Lee also made The Hulk. Arguably the worst movie adapted from a comic book. Not to appear repetitive, pero mapapaiyak ka sa kapangitan ng pelikulang ito.

Ok, so Ang Lee's not perfect. Even if he did make both Sense and Sensibility and Crouching Tiger (think about the versatility of vision there for just one second).

Lust Caution was er... well... medjo bad. The set design was straight out of a high school play. In one scene, there was tarp behind the actors that showed scenery. I know the movie was set in the 1940's, but does that mean they have to to adopt film making techniques of that time? Apparently so. There was NO cinematography. The music was blah. (If you re-watch Brokeback, notice the score.)

The plot took forever to develop (the movie was 3 hours long, most of the story developed in the last 20 minutes; and it really wasn't worth the two and half hour wait, apart from the "bomba" scenes everyone talked about).

The only good things out of the 270 minute debaucle were the performances of Tony Leung, Joan Chen (she's even better with age) and the new girl Wei Tang. If these guys did not deliver the way they did, the film would have been a complete disaster. Their performances drove the whole production. They had no help from the rest of the crew (you know, the director, scriptwriter, cinematographer, gaffer, best boy, etc), although Wei Tang's make-up artist and seamstress are noteworthy.

Just think about Ang Lee's versatility na lang.


==================
*This movie "review" assumes you've seen the film. I refuse to go into the plot, the NC-17 rating and everything else everyone else has discussed out this movie.

Confucius says...

She who grins like an idiot must have scored 11,990 on Brickbreaker.

Yes, this news deserves its own post

My new top score in Brickbreaker is 11,990, achieved at Level 23.

Beat that, S. and anyone else who carries a Blackberry and reads this blog.

Week 6

I've been going to the gym for 6 weeks now. And I don't mean once a week for 6 weeks. I mean 4 times a week for 6 weeks.

As usual, I am losing absolutely no weight, BUT I can walk 5.5km in an hour. I can break this easy. I'll let you know when I'm up to 6km an hour. I can also run (8.5km/hr) for 2.5 minute periods. I am trying to extend this to 5 minute periods.

I want to be that girl that can run for a 30 minute stretch.

And knowing me, I will be that girl.

Give me half a year.

Reasons why I should have moved to Hong Kong years ago

1. I love having 16 public holidays.

2. I love the smell of newly steamed rice from China.

3. I love egg tarts.

4. I like my shirts tailored.

5. I like mild changes in the weather. (It's getting cooler!!)

6. I like having a library of European films at my fingertips.

7. I like trams.

8. I like "sitting outside".

9. I like dimsum.

10. I like how no one knows how to dance but me (and I don't dance well). It's a fact - Chinese people have no timing.