Stupid Things

Found this on my hard drive:

Trix and me in Amsterdam

We've decided to sell most of our stuff and just drive to Vegas for the move. I haven't actually seen the unit yet, but I have pictures and a video so I've been trying to plan the design scheme. So far I think I'll be needing:

Bedroom:
1. Platform bed
2. Opaque linen panels in either blue or green
3. cabinets
4. 4 paintings on top of the bed
5. bedsheets
6. lighting (pendant?)

Guest room/ Office/ library
1. Twin futon
2. window panels in blue
3. computer desks and chairs
4. book case
5. art work: Kuya RB frame

Living Room
1. couch: indigo or Ikea Klippan
2. coffee table: wood, rectangle, long
3. chairs: slipper/lounge/club chair
4. opaque linen panels for sliding doors and curtains for windows
5. Art on the wall (painting)
5. framed mirror
6. Colorful throw pillows (silk, morroccan, etc)

Dining Room
1. window panels (linen)
2. Dining Table (wood)
3. table/bar (against the wall)
4. Framed Trip collage

Kitchen
1. Cute plates, glassware, cutlery, etc
2. Pots and pans
3. coffeemaker, toaster

MISC
1. curtain rods
2. kitchen towels
3. bath towels

Anyone know if I can buy furniture in the Philippines and then just have what I buy shipped to the US?

Manila Summers

Philippine summers are a breed apart from all the summers of the world. I love summers in Las Islas. I love the smell and the heat and the humid tropical breeze. Summer in the islands means discovery and fun and a time to cast off the uniforms, loosen our ties, and and let the rule books slip from our fingers. It's a time to create memories and live life and breathe and grow. It's a time to let go of inhibitions, and worries and for a few months, it's as if we've all been given license to feel as young or as old as we'd like to be.

There's a different vibe to summer in this city. They wear their flip flops and their tanks and their short shorts and they go on their picnics, but it's not the same. It's just not the same.

I know most of my friends back home are working and summer breaks are now a thing of the past, yet for some reason, I can sense that the feel of the season hasn't changed. We're always apt to be a little bit crazier in the summer months. A little more spontaneous, a little more reckless, a little more alive.

Everywhere else, summer is just sun and camisoles and a lemonade and just another thing that people have to get through. Our summers are so much more than that. Our summers are evocative, textured, rich. Vibrant. Summer is something we look forward to with the kind of excitement usually reserved for holidays like Christmas or maybe New Year's Eve.

We become nostalgic for things that have long since gone - like Lola's old house in the country, or eating ripe yellow mangoes atop the branches of a nearly ancient mango tree. We take numerous roadtrips and succumb to various degrees of wanderlust. We bask in the heat of our tropical beaches and let the hot summer sun charm us into doing things we could never have done any other time. We have improbable summer flings with people we should never have met. We stay out later and more often than we've had all year. We marvel at how much we (and our children) have grown, how far our friends have come, how much we know and don't know, and how far we still have to go. We gaze at stars and admire incredible island views. We hold weekly parties and inumans and drink impossible amounts of beer. We revisit old childhood sanctuaries. We go back to little provincial enclaves -- a house in Batangas, a cottage in Baguio -- anywhere we might have sown a little seed of ourselves.

We dance under the stars. We build bonfires on beaches and ride horses with the faint smell of pine on the breeze. We drive eight hours non-stop to catch a wave. We cross oceans and seas. We climb mountains. We fly to the furthest corners of the globe. And we come home. Yes, we come home.

I'm a summer girl. Specifically, I'm an Island Summer girl. And for the first time in three years, I'll be home for summer.

I can't wait.

____

BTW - does anyone know when Fete de la Musique is going to be? Sana abot ako.

So, I colored my hair. It was time. Spring was in the air.

I know I don't have a nose in the picture. I had to sacrifice the center of my face to get the most accurate represenation of my current hair color. And there it is. (Yes, my skin's pretty pale right now. Sucks.)

I've actually developed a kind of seasonal hair ritual. In the fall, I dye my hair blue-black. In the Spring, I dye it brown. I don't know, it makes me feel like I'm going through the same surge of renewal as the rest of the natural world. I don't like being stagnant when everything else is changing, you know.

So, as per my haistylist-friend's advice (she used to work at Louis Licari), I put a little bit of cider vinegar in my shampoo to seal the color. I rinsed the color out really well. And in a couple of weeks, I shall be using a blue shampoo to counter the impending attack of brassiness. Oh and I'm also packing on the conditioners. And using a leave-in/sunblock to protect my hair from sun damage and avoid discoloration.

I think it turned out pretty nice. I know my mom will probably disagree (she's very into natural beauty), but I like it. It makes me look tanner than I am - great for the summer - and I don't look so stereotypically Asian. I mean I love my Asian-ness, but black on black on more black can be rather boring after awhile.

For anyone wondering, I used L'oreal Preference True Brunettes UL61 (Ultra Light Ash Brown), which is the same color I used last spring. After all, that shade had already gotten me a healthy number of compliments, so why mess with a good thing, right? Also, it's light enough that I can see and feel the change BUT isn't drastic enough that people do a double take (read: I don't look like a Japayuki - yet).

Ofcourse, my hair DOES NOT look anything like the picture on the L'oreal box, but I was expecting that anyway, especially since the model in the picture looks really blonde. All I wanted was a product with an ashy color that could also lighten my hair 2-3 shades. (Ash tones counteract the natural redness of my dark Asian hair... skipping the ash tones might have made me go orange.) I used to (very carefully) bleach my eyebrows as well (I used to use Jansen facial bleach, which is usually available at drugstores), just so everything matched, but I don't think I need to do that anymore.

DIE DIE DIE

I have a little pouch of a belly. Like a marsupial. It's irritating.

Today I tried to get rid of the excess mass by attempting to imitate the graceful sways of a belly dancer. I was pathetic. I would never pay to see myself dance. Yes, even if I were half-naked. Trust me, you wouldn't either. And if you ever did, you'd probably pay me a lot more to stop immediately. But then it would have been too late. Oh your poor, tortured eyes. You will never be the same.

I realize that my posts have been vapid. Insipid. Annoying. I've been trying to create a persona for you, and it hasn't been working. I've been trying to fit myself into a relatable, likeable mold. And it's been an uphill struggle. It's like trying to fit the proverbial square chunk of rock into a round whole. You'll have to chip and sand and chisel away and I'm not sure how much more of that my self can take. So my survival instincts have finally kicked in. Took a while, but hey, I'm a certified procrastinator and that's what we get.

I've been trying to be General Patronage and I suspect that these past few months, I've bored you tears. Sorry about that. It was a phase. At least I hope it was.

WRITING, The Task

It's funny. I'm a real writer. I earn my livelihood solely by the act of writing. In a way, part of what I had set out to do when I first came here has been accomplished. I am living a life I could never have lived back in Manila. I work from home and write and write, and I get paid.

***

I find myself at strange place in my life. For the first time since I got here, I am no longer haunted by an overwhelming desire to turn and run back the way I came. But I don't want to move forward too fast either. Yes, even though I know this place is temporary, temporal. This place will change and the sun will eat it all away.

I'm resting on land that has been unhinged from the axis of the world. I'm standing on a plot of earth that has been rubbed off from the earth itself. A piece of the world that has escaped the pull of gravity and is now floating into an unknown faraway. At least that's how it feels.

***

What happens to our old dreams when we no longer want them? Or when we still want but they no longer fit? What happens to dreams once we relegate them to the dustbin of nostalgic sighs and half-jaded smiles? Are they still ours even when we don't understand them anymore?

***

Contentment is a curse masquerading as a gift, isn't it?

She comes without fanfare. She sneaks in unannounced, quietly stealing your dreams, replacing them with her own. She pulls you back and ties you tight and tells you its for your own good, while she trims away all the insanity from your bones. She is a kind, elderly woman who will never do you wrong. And before you know it, she has nullified the quest, stamped out the fires and the passions, dried up the cascade of... what is it again? Dreams, wishes, desires? And when you wake up the next morning, you'll smile and nod when she tells you that you have it all. And you'll believe her. That's her greatest power. You'll believe her when she says you're happy and you don't need anything at all.

I hate being content.

Contentment makes us old. She makes us very, very old.

I am not old yet, but now I see that aging is inevitable. I can already taste a little bit of contentment when I wake up in the morning - that saccharine blandness that coats the back of your tongue.

She's coming for me.

EPSON PRINTER OWNERS

Read about the Class Action Suit and see if your printer qualifies: http://www.epsonsettlement.com/.

They're settling so there's money in for all us Epson owners. To register your printer, click here: www.epsonstore.com/benefitsreg.

That's all folks.

Oh and I have a potential deal in the works. Crossing my fingers!

furniture hunting, ROBBERY SCARES, and other things

Robbery Scare

I am afraid. Very, very afraid.

Yesterday, the people who live out front were nearly robbed by two men! Gah! Now I'm scared to leave the house! I don't even want to step outside to check the mail! To calm my fears, I have commenced a relentless cyberquest for the cheapest version of my dream bed.

Seque into Dream Bed/aka Furniture Hunting.
Lots of people think I'm crazy for spending so much time doing research whenever I'm about to buy something. Going on vacay? I take about over two months of full on searching. Buying a dress, a book, or a a pair of shoes? About 3 weeks. And now that I'm looking for furniture, well... We're not moving until the end of summer and I'm already trawling the web.

It's simple, really. There are scores of bargains to be had online, but it takes a bit of time and patience to find them. So I know that if I want to pay considerably less, than I need to do my homework. That bed, for instance. It's selling for over 1,000 bucks in some stores, but I found a place that's selling it for $528, including shipping. Fantastic deal!

Of course, if you think about it, especially as a Pinay, $528 is still a lot of money to spend on a bed. Unfortunately, I'm no longer in Manila-land so I gotta pay what I gotta pay. I mean, fine, you can get a really cheap bed for around 120 bucks if you wnated to. But you'd have to get that at Target. And it's going to be made with veneers and engineered wood. I'm cheap, but not that cheap.

Don't get me wrong. My budget is strictly Ikea, Cb2, West Elm, knockoffs, and secondhand, but even the beds at Ikea can go up to $500 bucks a pop. Given the choice between a generic Malm or Hoppen made with suspicious materials and this rich, pure hardwood platform which I have fallen in love with... I think the choice is clear. The only thing I can do now is make sure that the premium I pay is as small as possible. So I do research. A lot of it.

Anyone want to share their favorite haunts? I wonder if Manila furniture makers would be willing to ship furniture to Vegas?

And lastly, I got a new gig. Wisegeek.com.

Tralalala.

Engagement Party

John and I went to an Indian engagement party today and wow. It really took a while to go through all the prayers, the singing, and the blessing. We got good food when everything was done though, so no complaints here.

On the left is the latest picture of me in my Marc Jacobs party dress and Frye boots. Yeah, our place is a mess. We got bags and boxes all over the place right now. WE have a ton of things to sell, sort out, and disassemble for various impending moves.

Just a little over a month beofre we go to the Philippines! Yeehaw!

I found my bed!

I found it! My perfect bed! In a dingy little cyberstore, to be sure, but it's my perfect bed! Here he is:



This is how he looks like with a mattress (just imagine it with the darker mahogany finish):

Fantastic! Even the headboards are growing on me, as they are perfect to watch TV and read a book with. It's the perfect height (low but not too low), the perfect color, and the perfect size. It's also got the look I like. It costs a bit more than I would like, but hey, beauty comes at a price. And I happen to be one of those people who think that beauty is worth it. I firmly believe that there should be a limit to scrimping (perfectly fine when you're saving for a trip, a house, etc... but a life of eternal penny pinching is very sad indeed)... do it too often and the world's beauty will gradually be lost on you. After all, it takes more than money to make my world go 'round. I need a lot more than that.

speaking of BEDS I can't afford

I think this bed is exquisite. I'm pretty sure it'll go well with the my future tropical beach house, don't you think??? (Maybe I can make a local carpenter copy the design...)


I'd like a darker finish (see bed below), but otherwise this is marvelous. It has wooden slats under the mattress for comfort without a box spring, and the slats are recessed for that floating look. It's absolutely scrumptious. Think of the kind of dreams you could dream in a bed such as this!

The Joys of Preparing for a MOVE

One of the best things about moving is the opportunity to reinvent your space.

In Manila, I always thought of my bedroom as an extension of my personality, so I would design my space accordingly. One year it was skulls and daggers. The next it was tribal rugs, incense, and candles. And most recently, it's a mishmash of all of the above, beachy things, asian things, with a liberal amount of crazy purple paint thrown in.

Unfortunately, due to a thousand constraints, I couldn't really do anything with my various American spaces. I don't know if the American mentality is just different, but the people I've met here don't seem to see the personalization of space as a necessity. And since I'm too broke to argue, I went with it and my own rooms usually ended up as strange to me as I could possibly imagine. I suspect that's part of the reason why I feel so stifled and restless sometimes. My rooms here just dont't seem like home to me -- they're always just temporary places to rest, sleep, eat, clean. I'm always longing to wander off because there's nothing holding me in place.

But not anymore. We're moving to Vegas and (hopefully) to a more permanent abode. (Of course, "more permanent" is a relative term.)

And my creative juices are bubbling with excitement! Yay!

I have no idea how the whole condo will look, as I don't own the place, but I've wrangled myself permission to design the master bedroom according to my tastes. Finally! A little slice of home in America. Finally, a place for me to unfurl my tired mind.

Pardon my excitement, but I really can't over-stress how important a bedroom is to me. Until I've left my stamp on it, until I've claimed it for myself, I really don't feel like a room is mine - therefore I don't feel like I'm home. A bedroom, to me, is sanctuary, which is probably why I constantly feel off balance here. This bedroom is just not mine. It can even get a bit oppressive, claustrophobic - both literally and metaphorically. This is not a place where I can unfurl and think and just be. I don't think it's a coincidence that my production of written work has dropped since we moved here, or that I haven't written a single poem in my time in this apartment. I don't feel inspired here. I don't feel like myself. I feel like a robot, a drone. I feel like this place is sucking something vital out of me.

So yes, while I know I'll miss the neighborhood and what have you, I'm also very excited to move away from this place. Three years is a long time to be homeless, after all.

BTW, I want this bed. I've always wanted a platform bed, ever since I saw it in an Interior Design magazine.

I don't like the headboard though. I'd rather it didn't have a headboard at all. Anyone know where I can find this kind of bed for cheaper? $2400 is a bit much I'm afraid. I saw one like it at West Elm for around $400, but it looks a little too low... though I'll probably settle for it if I don't find anything else.

I'd like all the furniture in the bedroom to be this same dark color, white or off-white opaque linen window panels, and for the bathroom:

And then maybe some exotic accents from my travels. Lots of exotic prints, masks, art work, saffron silk, and maybe a few candles. I can't wait to meet my space and see if we'll like ach other and if she's up to the challenge of being transformed into my sanctuary!