Snap

Do images say more about what a person is and what their life is all about? I do hope so, because I’ve been struggling with writing about my life. Something just refuses to flow.

I remember when I was younger when it was so much easier. But I was obviously a different person then. I didn’t have any friends, I never left the house, I spent the day reading and day-dreaming and later, writing. Being alone creates the perfect conditions for writing.

But I’m never alone now, haven’t been in a very, very long time. Real life isn’t what I expected it to be, but I’ve made my peace with it. I’ve found my place in it. I’ve found the things that allow me to live comfortably, according to social standards as well as my own. I’ve found the pursuits that give me joy and contentment. I’m learning to set aside the things that I can’t control or have no power over. I’ve put aside the mistakes I’ve made, apologised for some of them and have never repeated them again. I try every day to be kind. I try every day to push aside bad thoughts like grabbing the phone of this idiot in my 7:05am bus who insists on playing his shit music out load, and slapping it across his ugly face.

Real life as it unfolds every single day is the best story of all. At the end of one, I discover that I neither have the energy or the creative words to write about it.

I’ve lived it and survived to live the next one- isn’t that enough? So can I just take a photo please?

Out of office

Holidays are exhausting. When you get back, you realise that you need a holiday to recover from the holiday. But with steadily accumulating leave that I can’t even accumulate, I decided to take the whole of the Easter break, my birthday leave and tomorrow’s Anzac Day for a grand total of eight days to do fuck all. Well, actually did a lot. We took a car to the island of Waiheke, did a 24km bike ride of the island, and marvelled at how the rich locals spent a normal Wednesday night drinking $300 wines and nibbling on exquisite, but tiny pieces of roasted lamb loin (it was very good).

Today

The Lenten season of my childhood is gone. I can be dramatic and say something stupid like, where is God, but I know the answer to that. He’s here, in me. I think of kindness and empathy and generosity every day. I try my best to be kind, emphatic and generous every day. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I don’t. But I know that God is not keeping tally. He just wants you to try, every single day for as long as you’re alive. That’s all you can do.

But yeah, I miss the traditions. I guess, it’s kind of the point of Catholicism- the pageantry gives the season its allure and its mystique. You deprive yourself of meat, of entertainment, you think of an entity with superhuman powers yet had allowed himself to be nailed to a cross so that you will be saved (from what, it didn’t really matter). When I was young, I believed all of that but on a level that was more philosophical than mystical.

When I grew older, it became easier to take that path and not because I believed it any less. Some were just silly (Mark Wahlberg sporting his Ash Wednesday smeared forehead on his socials), antiquated (the Stations of the Cross) or stupid (not eating meat).

I remember on one of my mother’s visits to New Zealand that happened to fall on Lent, we were craving for squid, but only if it was sold with ink which you most always never find here.

But by the miracle of Jesus and Mary, we found one at Pak N Save, but alas, the staff wouldn’t sell it to us; they were mortified that a packet had slipped through their quality control.

We had to explain (and beg), that it was exactly how we wanted it.

I don’t remember now though, whether we got it in the end.

Are you ready for the White Lotus Season 3 finale?

White Lotus is all about being edged; which is why some people don’t like it.

Some people like it straightforward. Wham, bam, thank you and maybe next week? Where’s the fun in that? And this is the reason why I stopped wasting money on degustations. I have yet to try one that paces things perfectly.

Everything now is so hurried and instant. People want to get to the point without delay, but where's the savoring of the journey? White Lotus takes its time, letting tension build slowly, teasing out revelations, letting you stew in uncertainty and discomfort. It’s a show that doesn’t give you easy answers; it challenges you to sit with the ambiguity. That’s where the true drama lives — not in the climaxes, but in the pauses. In every long, lingering shot of a character trying to keep up appearances, or a moment of silence that says more than words ever could.

It’s a tension that keeps you hooked, but also what makes it divisive. Some viewers crave closure, resolution, the neat bow at the end. Others, however, enjoy the lingering questions, the psychological edge, the discomfort of not knowing everything. This is the magic of White Lotus. The mystery is as much a part of the experience as the plot. It doesn't hand-feed you; it demands that you engage, that you read between the lines.

But that doesn’t mean everyone has the patience for it. And it’s okay if you don’t. Some shows thrive on immediacy, and they have their own brand of brilliance. But there’s something exquisite about the way White Lotus makes you wait for satisfaction, forcing you to reckon with the ambiguity of human nature, the chaos of luxury, and the complexities of relationships. You may not get everything neatly wrapped up, but you’ll leave with questions that gnaw at you long after the credits roll.

Maybe that’s the real appeal of White Lotus. It's not about answers; it’s about keeping you on edge, forcing you to confront the uncomfortable spaces between what you think you know and what’s actually true. It's a slow burn, but in the world of instant gratification, it’s a delicious kind of discomfort.

And who really cares about who dies and who lives? We all move on the next one..

Library series (Papatoetoe)/Weekend reading

I miss the craft, not the pay check

1. Does attempting to write, count as ‘I’m still trying to write.?”

2. It’s easier now to simply take a photo to remember something by: the way the autumn sun feels and looks different. How your $500 sneakers matches your $300 pants. How standing in your backyard putting your laundry on the line feels like being back in Pangasinan.

3. Since 2012, I’ve taken over 45,000 images and wrote ZERO stories.

4. In my teens, I submitted short-stories for a women’s magazine (MOD) and was paid P500 per story. I wrote the story long-hand and had my dad’s secretary type it out.

5. I wanted to take up BS Psychology at UP Diliman because I thought I wanted to be a doctor. It was my dad who actually asked me to change it to English as a preparatory degree for law. I didn’t become either.

6. Nearly everyone in my high school batch took up nursing, which I thought was appropriate for dull people with no talent.

7. I switched majors in my sophomore year (Creative Writing), got accepted to the Philippine Collegian (and wrote racy, ambiguous fiction) and earned my drinking/SM Mall money proofreading on the side for a UP publishing house.

8. Worked in advertising out of uni and I fucking hated it. Ad people were egomaniacal, ugly narcissists. It reinforced my belief that if you did something just for the money, things wouldn’t end well. Never again.

9. Went back to Pangasinan to work for the local office of a national newspaper chain and managed to convince management to allow me to put out a weekend magazine that folded soon after launch. Realised that I was a maniacal, actually attractive narcissist.

10. Spent the next 10 years writing fiesta greetings for all 44 Pangasinan municipalities and wondering if perhaps, I should’ve taken up nursing instead. But in hindsight, I would have failed spectacularly at a job that required great people skills and a personality that is anything but dull.

11. Moved to New Zealand and ditched the writing. I realised that I had to choose between doing something that I was comfortable with or doing something that expanded that further and paid a bit more.

12. My niece and her fiance just bought a house in one of the most expensive (and overpriced) housing markets in the world. She’s barely 25, and she’s a nurse. Yes, I definitely should have taken up nursing.

ooff

I get nervous all the time like the next person, but I usually get over it once I make a more accurate and logical assessment of the situation. I’ve never had anxiety but I’m starting to believe that the more you think about it, the more you repeat it, and the more you hear about it from people around you, the more real it becomes until you become, well, fucking anxious.

The whole three months of the year was a build-up to stuff at work that I thought was going to be epically challenging. Well, it wasn’t. It was epic for sure (AI! Marketing Automation! Generative Video!), but hardly challenging. You ride it like you would a good wave and at the back of your mind, you knew that you were going to do well- and so what’s next?

A co-worker is leaving today after nearly 14 years. We started in the same year and have been inseparable in a way that can only be described as meant to be. We were the A-team. We accomplished a shit-load of stuff, most of which we did from scratch. We were looking at a couple more high-octane times. So when they say without any warning that they’re leaving, the impact of it for me anyway, is like being shot by a bullet. But you’re still moving very fast so you can’t feel the pain. Not yet - and so what’s next?

These days

1. Dieting is back in the house but we vowed not to let that destabilise a healthy routine; you’re not settling into bed to binge on some stupid show just because you don’t have enough calories to go on a run. So we’ve been going to libraries and getting books to read in lieu of another season of Married At First Sight Australia, and Auckland has some of the best libraries that I’ve seen anywhere. There’s nothing more mentally cleansing than another volume of Alice Munro + a Starbucks cold brew.

2. Praying for Pope Francis. Why the fuck would God take the good people and leave us with the cunts?

3. Booked tickets for the Philippines for the holidays because it’s never too early to prepare for these things mentally.

4. Still need a non-family purpose trip, so scratch LA because it burned down, plus nobody I know really wants to step into American soil for fear of being contaminated (you know what I mean), so that leaves Japan or Tahiti.

5. It’s the Oscars today and I’m on Team Demi.

#Friday #Vibe

Wish you were here...

Shānmǔ shēngrì kuàilè, xīnnián kuàilè

When did we all start celebrating other culture’s/people’s holidays?

Don’t mind it and the only time that I do mind is when some idiot drags it through the political/racial mud and calls it freedom of speech.

So today is the Chinese New Year and because S wasn’t able to celebrate his birthday yesterday, we thought that we were clever for doing a double-celebration; if that isn’t lucky I don’t know what is.

For good measure, I made sure to make dishes that were auspicious - spring rolls, dumplings and noodles which I got from the supermarket on my lunch break. On our cat’s Insta feed, there was some lady peddling advice on Feng Shui. Apparently, one needs to clean up the south-east part of the house which turned out to be our spare bedroom, the bed of which was filled with unsorted laundry from last week. So I cleaned that up and finished all the dishes in 30 minute.

I thought I could feel a hum in our house, that invisible pulse of energy that meant we were prepared and fortified for the coming year- never mind that NONE OF US WERE CHINESE.

Wonderland

In Auckland city alone, there are over 4,000 parks and reserves, covering almost 11% of the land area. There are no snakes, poisonous plants, pesky insects, scary predators or weird people with bad intentions.

If you feel like reconnecting with nature or simply decompressing, you don’t need to drive far; there’s always a patch of green somewhere.

Epiphany

Over dinner at the second reincarnation of this chicken place in Pukekohe, B asked us the all important post-Christmas question of, ‘when will you take down your Christmas tree?’. I joked that we would still have it standing on the 17th of January so that we would have the pleasure of having M retrieve her birthday gift from under it.

M grinned, making a face and while we all laughed, deep inside, I was still baffled that a woman who has perfected thoughtful, tasteful and financially appropriate gift-giving could forego NOT putting up a tree in her flat. But that’s a boundary we didn’t want to cross; it’s her space and she had all the right in the world to do anything she wanted to do in it including NOT putting up Christmas decorations. It rankled, but I had to respect it.

The answer was that we didn't have a date, or rather, we left it to when we got around to doing a major start of the year clean-up which could be anytime up to the 1st week of February. It wasn’t really a big deal and besides, we liked having the twinkling lights.

‘Tradition states that you could have it up until the Epiphany- 12 days after Christmas- and if you don't, it would be bad luck.” B declares after having looked it up on Google.

Well then, nothing like the Asian in me to be immediately convinced at the mention of two words: ‘bad luck.’

We ended up removing all the Christmas decorations on the 1st of January.

Goodbye 2024, hello 2025

(NOT) New Year resolutions

I just realised today that I may have confused tasks I need to do (and can actually do), with New Year resolutions (which you’re not obliged to do).

So here’s my (initial) list:

1. Have a proper pedicure

2. Go to an actual dermatologist

3. Finish culling your clothes

4. Go to the gym during the working week

5. Study stuff properly

6. Put financial savings into aggressive mode

7. EAT more vegetables

8. Bake PROPER stuff

9. Better food planning

10. Better time planning

Christmas 2024 photo dump

You're officially an adult when you put up your first Christmas tree

Thanks Toni

KFC forever

I wouldn’t mind having KFC for Christmas, but it doesn’t mean that if I can, I should #JustSaying. This was just for an early dinner

How time flies

Lechon belly

After all the drama, it turned out great

Best of both worlds

My two favourite Filipino ice-cream flavours are use and Quezo Real; why not have both?

Christmas is not about the gifts, but

Thank you for all my amazing gifts this year

A classic

The fruitcake was in our proper freezer for two years; makes you think of stocking up for the apocalypse

Christmas brunch

To be honest, I didn’t like the ham this year

Christmas dinner

and food yet again, this time in the city

The weekend

Had to pick up some gifts at Smith & Caughey in the city so I thought, might as well see that Olafur Eliasson exhibit at the Auckland Gallery, as well as those Impressionists generously gifted by a wealthy, Republican-supporting American hedge-fund one-percenter, the late Julian Robertson.

“My wife didn’t like the Picasso,” Robertson says in a video clip during an interview with a New Zealand journalist some years back, “…so I put it in the bathroom.”

The collection includes several other Picassos, a Cézanne, a Gauguin, a Matisse, several Braques, and works by lesser-known (or perhaps just less famous) artists.

The Eliasson exhibition was fun. Various rooms featured playful light installations that invited you to see yourself as projected multi-colored shadows. One dark room sprayed a fine mist of water, which captured and reflected light like a rainbow.

But my favorite was an installation of frozen river ice, slowly melting into a metal cistern. The dripping water was amplified to create a mournfully elegant audio effect.

The Robertsons would have loved the installation and probably wouldn’t have thought twice about installing it in their swanky 6,000-square-foot Central Park apartment.

After all, nothing says “soothing bedtime ambiance” like the sound of the planet dying—especially when you know it won’t really affect you.