Some nifty things

Nifty to me means:

1. Affordable
2. Uncomplicated
3. Easy

#WinterIsComing

Back in December when I went home to the Philippines for the holidays, it took me two weeks to get used again to the heat. All pervading, you live your life around it; you worked hard to be able to afford a home and personal transport with air-conditioning or be employed to begin with, by a company whose office building is a continually temperate 21 degrees. Men unabashedly use umbrellas and tote around ugly cross-body bags filled with a towel, facial astringent and face-wash. 'Fashionistas' pretend it doesn't exist and buy cardigans and jackets from Zara or H&M and layer up in December, as they enter one artificially-cooled environment to another.

In the last four years before I left for New Zealand, I had taken to buying Nike Dri-Fit clothes almost exclusively (not cheap nor acceptable in a lot of social situations) and wearing shorts and sneakers. In this get-up, I looked like someone who went to the gym at 8am and stayed there for eight-hours. At home, my brother and I were always topless (even dad when he was alive) decorum forgotten when there were guests around and it was always too late to put a shirt on before the introductions were made.

I arrived in New Zealand in the middle of winter, a season Kiwis love to hate, and I knew, shivering in 11 degree cold, that I had to stay indefinitely- it felt like home in that way you define home as being the place where you're truest to yourself and I say it unequivocally to anyone who asks- I hate the heat. I don't have to put up with it anymore, or live around it. 

The world may be changing and headed towards higher temperatures than ever before, but I'm not going to worry about that for now. 

I'm just going to take it one winter at a time.

The Seven-Day Challenge

I was on the road to the hospital to visit Dave and mulling over some overdue blog posts when Leila messaged saying her domain had expired. To cut a long story short, we restored the domain, fiddled with her settings because the site wasn't showing on her end, and saddled ourselves with a challenge to write a post every day until Sunday.

Now that's not hard is it? God after all made the world in seven days, easy peasy. Britney Spears and Jason Alexander married and divorced in 55 hours. Judi Dench logged in 8 minutes of screen time, practically a day's work, in Shakespeare in Love and got an Oscar for her efforts. 

So what is seven days- throw in a photo (as I've been doing for the longest time, in lieu of words) or three; a movie review (Trainspotting 2 was fantastic); two birthday shout-outs (to Tonic and Ally); and another photo of a Sunday dinner (another glorious roast maybe, that bastion of white-people food)- and it will be all good.

Why do I feel though as if I'm short-changing myself? Why does Monday look and feel suspiciously like the Monday previous? Lunch is the same predictable steamed chicken and vegetables and I doubt it if it will really save me, that it makes a difference in the over-all scheme of things, which at the moment is looking the way I've always seen it; a sameness punctuated with ineffectual punches we describe cheerfully as 'soldiering on'.

Dave- who by the way is the owner of the flat I currently live in- got home from an ordinary fishing trip, one of a countless he'd done complaining of a sore leg, nothing really out of ordinary for someone in his mid 50's, and 24-hours later was facing multi-organ failure because of a ruptured and infected bowel.

He survived and is now 'soldiering on' towards a slow and tedious recovery. A week in ICU, hovering between life and death, he had not seen anyone gesturing to him to go towards the light. Between half-lucid and drug-addled moments, he cursed his doctors and nurses, his parents, his children. He emerged from the other side, battered, gaping open wounds in his side and leg healing slowly and having to confront the reality that life was not altered- only disrupted.

We think we grapple with time; we think we're given a reprieve, or a punishment; or foolishly, a reward but time doesn't wait for no one.

Don't wait for epiphanies. Just do it.

If I Was The President

“Even then, selfish people like many among us are more than willing to subjugate the freedom of others if it is the most efficient means by which we can achieve our ends..”
— Christopher Ryan Maboloc

1. I would ban all tricycles and other forms of transport which are unable to maintain a travelling speed of at least 75kph from major highways and national roads to lessen congestion. P_ tang ina; umaakyat kami sa zig-zag na daan, sampung sasakyan naka-convoy at 25kph dahil lang sa tricycle sa unahan!

2. I would ban the use of so-called 'man-bags' by men, defined as any sort of pouch/bag/purse that is slung across the shoulder and may possibly be used to hold such things as cigarettes (smoking is BAD for your health); make-up (YUK! Kalalaki mong tao); or drugs (obviously). 

3. I would compel all telecommunication companies to have a standard set of pre-paid credit load plans/top-ups. The proliferation of all these unlit/surf-max/e-load/GigaSurf/Pasa-Load/SOS Load/Express Pasa-Load/GoSakto/GoSurf/GoUnli/UnliTXT/GOAllNet/GoSakto/TextAll/RegaLOAD IS GODDAMNED CONFUSING. The poor who cannot afford to subscribe to a post-paid plan are made to believe that all these are saving them money, but in reality, they end up paying more, sa ka-lo-load nila!

4. I decree that by 2018, every household in the Philippines be connected to the Internet either by ADSL, VDSL or Fibre depending on location. The rich should not monopolise the Internet and I have this nagging suspicion that Internet cafes corrupt the youth.

5. I decree that all OPM (Original Pilipino Music) can only be revived TWICE. I was listening to the radio the other day and sabi ko, p_tang ina- ilang beses na bang na-revive yang Neocolours song na iyan??? Aside from the fact that Neocolours pa rin and the best na version, this is also to encourage our artists to be more creative, productive and original. Tama na yung paulit-ulit!

Home

Between the ages of 21 and 28, I was homeless at least in my mind. Flitting between jobs and various places in Manila, the only constant was getting on that bus to Pangasinan to go home to Naguilayan for some respite; for some money from my dad; for some breathing space. Burdened with a really bad memory, I can only recall bits and pieces from this period, all seemingly unconnected except for one common thread- I was actually aimless. I would have grieved, been regretful for literally wasting a decade, but ignorance is really bliss. How does one grieve for something one can't remember losing? 

Project Four in my mind

There is a life we led before
we had all these facetious connections.
I certainly didn't need
to Google, iMessage, tweet
to find you.
Because I did.
A bunch of yellow roses,
led the way home

 

You’re an Water Rat if you’re born in 1972 (New Year 2032 will be the next Water Rat generation to come). In 2016, you’re 44 years old. Your Totem Number is 49. Your Unlucky Number is 55.*

People born in the Year of the Water Rat can tolerate many things provided to get a benefit from their patience and efforts. The more money a Water Rat earns, the better he/she works.

The Water Rat is the most secret, but also the most tender of all Rats. Extremely pragmatic and farsighted, the Water Rat does not engage in a relationship unless he sees some value in it. Very sociable, enjoying a good chat, but also discreet and solitary depending on his mood, the Water Rat isn't the kind of Rat who will seek the spotlight at all costs. Always charming and charismatic, the Water Rat excels as much in negotiation than in revenge, brilliantly combining humor and insight in his relation with others (from Karmaweather.com).

And the Housewives ride off into the sunset

They came, they said the N word and got into a small debt trying to dress like they didn't live in Auckland. A season ends and while the rest of us hem and haw trying to figure out what to do next Tuesday after Labour Weekend, the Real Housewives Of Auckland have it all figured out...

 

Maybe it's not meant to be

I have a fondness for shoes. And it's justified by the fact that apparently, this predilection is inherited according to my mother; so when science and your own mother are in agreement then it must be true. Anyways, I've only just gotten back again to buying Nike. There was a period- I think it was a  full decade- when their designs just didn't appeal.

What brought me back to the fold was when the Flyknit came out in 2012; finally, a shoe that had a slim silhouette as opposed to the imposing bulkiness of the Air Maxes that had been a Nike stalwart since the 80s, and whose look has seem to be permanently stuck there (which its devoted fans love).

The Flyknit was meant to be a racing shoe but of course anyone who takes their sport seriously seem to use another brand altogether for training and actual competitions. I don't do either so the shoe suits me just fine. Since then, I've bought a pair of Roshe Ones, a customised NIKE I.D. all-white Roshe Ones (which I regret and have only worn once), Flyknit Lunar 3s and Flyknit Trainer Chukka FSBs. 

To be honest, the shoes all have faults- the Roshe Ones have hard tubular laces which create painful pressure points on top of my feet. The Lunar 3s which I only found in a size 9 (and still bought them even if my true comfort size is 8.5) have a tendency to loosen up if you're wearing them all day, so woe to you if you actually use them for training/running and they happen to be half a size bigger. And the trainer chukkas, while adequately water-resistant, are truly for the outdoors- using them like for the city possibly puts you at risk of slipping on urban surfaces for which the shoes have absolutely zero grip. And yet looking at its Flyknit texture would you honestly use it for hiking in muddy conditions?? 

But as all Nike fans know, we buy the shoes in spite of their faults because they're like nothing else, and that's reason enough especially if you can afford them anyway.

So when the Lunarepics came out there was no question that I wanted a pair. My excitement grew even more fever pitched when Nike.com finally opened an online store for New Zealand. But at $270, I had to do some research before forking out the money. I got the chance on a trip to Melbourne which in hindsight, was organised partly because I was hoping to get the shoes in Australia.

But as it turned out, the black variant was rare; while it wasn't available at the outlet stores, I was able at least to see how they looked and my initial fear that they would look too bulky was put to rest. They looked just fine. Apparently, the women's version is identical to the men's and a black variant was available, hooray! And at just $150, it was a steal, but my joy was short-lived- checking it out at the counter, we discovered that the pair I had were two different sizes like WTF? Some stupid ass-bitch was out there wearing different sized shoes!

And my bad luck continues. I think. I finally bought them online and even after track and trace has placed them as having arrived in New Zealand 10 days ago, they have yet to bust out of customs, quarantine or whatever goddamned place they're being kept in. 

I didn't even get to the gym for a whole week (well, I had sinusitis anyway so) because I had used the shoe purchase to keep me motivated to sticking to my gym schedule; sans the shoes, I just lost the spirit. 

Silly I know, but if you're not a Nike devotee, you just wouldn't understand!

Post Script: the shipping did say 9-12 days and if that period discounted weekends, actual delivery should commence next week. I hope.

No need to be convinced

I'm annoyed by people who thrust their grubby (mostly Android) phones in your face and extol the virtues of a better screen; a faster processing rate; short-cuts galore blah blah blah.

I DON'T FUCKING CARE.

I have better things to do than debate over the pointless techno-minutiae that passes for facts in most Apple versus Android discussions. Having started with the iPhone 3G and all through 4S, 5 and my current 6 Plus, along with two iPads, an iMac, a 15-inch MacBook Pro and an Apple Watch, I am not an Apple whore thank you very much- true whores after all, try everything and everyone.

I am wedded to Apple and my loyalty to the brand is borne by years of not having to think too much of them- the spare efficiency of the operating system just lets you do what you need to do without the tedious, annoying upkeep of Android (and Windows). And when it dies, it is irrevocably gone, and you move on, though lately, you no longer have to wait out till your device actually dies. There are various points of criticism there- the disposability of stuff, the deliberately planned obsolescence blah blah blah.

I DON'T FUCKING CARE.

I'm your typical consumer and my choices have not been made with a gun to my head, so it baffles me why people go out of their way to defend theirs by putting down yours. 

If there's one thing I regret about Apple is that I miss the days when its users were just a small, cozy bunch. Now, you have all these people who buy it for the very reasons Apple haters have hinged their vitriol on; that it's a status symbol created by a clever mega-corporation that's out to get your money. Well, it's no one's business as to how you spend your money- though I think there are exceptions, like when you go for cheapest (instead of cheaper) which is a waste of money cmon, or when you buy products designed by Kanye West.

Other than that, I can say from experience Apple is worth every cent and no, Apple hasn't paid me to say that.

“The iPhone 7 may look like the iPhone has for years, but it works better. Differently, too. It’s more seamless, more open to third parties, and more connected to the rest of the Apple ecosystem. More than anything, this phone is Apple’s acknowledgement that how an iPhone looks is increasingly beside the point. What matters is what an iPhone can do.”
— wired.com
Source: http://www.apple.co.nz

First day of spring

It's the first day of spring in the Southern Hemisphere and after eight years I'd like to think that like the natives, I can sense the change. There are days though washed out in spring rain that I get flashbacks of Pangasinan in June. Memory is so powerful that I struggle against the urge to just stay at home; to read a book (I haven't in ages); to go to the gym (I have yet to go full out for the new season); or make myself a comforting dish of shrimp or pork sinigang. 

'Spring cleaning' is such a cliche, but I think we need all the motivational metaphors we can get to push ourselves out of the lethargy of winter. I love the cold but I've realised that it has turned me inwards so much that the insulation has rendered me efficient but creatively lethargic. I've been struggling to write. I've been doubting my voice. I've spent a small fortune on winter clothing just so I could feel the way I look (now, that's sad!).

So yes- time for a (spring) clean. Bring on the cliches and the metaphors. 

Life goes on and you just have to deal with it the best you can.