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To be delivered in the manner of Delia Razon in an LVN movie of the 1950s while strolling under the mango trees, clasping your hands in delight, and batting your eyelashes hard enough to give yourself a concussion.

Tila nakasisira ng ulo ang inyong mga akda! Ngayon pa lamang ay nais ko nang mapanood ang mga pelikulang inyong nasasaisip. Kung si Binibining Jane Austen ay nabubuhay lamang ngayon (at nakaka-unawa ng Tagalog) tiyak na matutuwa siya sa inyong mga isinulat. Pagpapatunay na kahit halos dalawang daang taon na ang nakalipas mula nang mailimbag ang Pagmamataas at Pangmamata, totoo pa rin ang nilalaman nito tungkol sa pera at pag-ibig.

Samantala:

From Italy, The Demons of St. Petersburg

Cine Europa 12
Shangri-la Plaza, Mandaluyong, September 11-20, 2009
Admission is free.

The films include S Certy Nejsou Zerty (Give the Devil His Due) by Hynek Bocan from the Czech Republic, Rec by Jaume Balaguero and Paco Plaza from Spain, I Demoni Di San Pietroburgo (The Demons of St. Petersburg) by Giuliano Montaldo from Italy, E Pericoloso Sporgersi (Sundays On Leave) by Nae Caranfil and Orient Express by Sergiu Nicolaescu from Romania, and Toi et Moi (You and Me) by Julie Lopes-Curval from France.

For inquiries call 633.7851. I’ve posted the screening schedule here.

Cat-friendly interior design from dornob.com.

Lovely, but Koosi, Saffy and Mat have a few comments.
1. You’d need a place with high ceilings, not the human rights-violating bonsai-making boxes which many developers pass off as new apartments.
2. Wooden walkways: Scratching posts!
3. Mat has a strange habit. After using the litterbox, he scratches the toilet bowl.

Speaking of lavatories, here’s a picturesque one.

Trompe l’oeil! Tres, tres trompe l’oeil, enough to kill a minimalist!

The washroom in one of the suites at Hotel Celeste on San Lorenzo Drive and Pasay Road (where Mars used to be). And here is the bathtub.

It’s a bit much, but between an excess of personality and the absence of one, go for the former.

L-R: Hot milk, sugar, packets of cream, unused. Second draft of novel—Yes, it’s thick. Table napkins. Glass of water. Notebook for rewriting stuff. Pilot pen, V-Ball Grip, 0.5 point, my favorite writing instrument. Cup of coffee. Smaller notebook for reminders and observations. The Sweetness At The Bottom Of The Pie by Alan Bradley, to dip into when I’m sick of hearing myself.

Yaaarrgh I hate doing rewrites. I already wrote the damn thing, why do I have to look at it ever again. But it has to be done because despite having proudly typed ‘The End’ I know this novel lacks something. After torturing three extremely patient and helpful readers with my draft (Otsu, Zack, my friend’s agent) I hope I’ve figured it out. Otherwise all is not lost, that’s a lot of liners for the litter box.

* * * * *
Thank you for your kind comments. I have no intention of inflicting this manuscript on anyone at this time. It was written in 2005 then put away. It was rewritten in 2007 then put away. Those who have read it agree that it is Funny, But Nothing Happens. In short, it is autobiographical. And written to amuse myself, so it has already served its purpose.

Shanghai, August 2009. By Noel Orosa

Shanghai thirty years ago on a moonlit night. . .maybe we did not get to see the moon of thirty years ago. To young people the moon of thirty years ago should be a reddish-yellow wet stain the size of a copper coin, like a teardrop on letter paper by To-yün Hsüan, worn and blurred. In old people’s memory the moon of thirty years ago was gay, larger, rounder, and whiter than the moon now. But looked back on after thirty years on a rough road, the best of moons is apt to be tinged with sadness.

– From The Golden Cangue by Eileen Chang, English translation by Eileen Chang.

Classic photographs reproduced in Lego by Mike Stimpson.

We inspected the site (in the vernacular, Nag-ocular kami) of our Good Ideas Forum on September 26. Whitespace is a converted warehouse on Pasong Tamo Extension, Makati, next to Hope Christian School. It sat there, unused, for many years, until Monique Villonco thought of converting it into a hall for concerts, conventions, and other events. Whitespace now houses Hall A for events, Manila Contemporary art gallery, and the Commissary of Cibo di M.

The front. We love the raised white letters. Huge parking space, and there’s no charge.

The caretaker let us into the building. “So this is your venue,” said Ernie. “Nice.”

“No, this is the foyer.” The stairs lead to the office and the dressing rooms.

This is the Hall.

It’s VAST. We’re limiting attendance to 50 people because we won’t have enough time to listen to everyone’s pitch, but there’s room for a couple of hundred. We may end up using just half the space so we can hear each other. If you’re presenting your idea, feel free to bring huge visual aids. You may also skip around the hall, but you’ll need a wireless microphone.

Even the washrooms are beautiful. We won’t be needing the dressing rooms unless your Good Idea is a three-minute Opera.

Whitespace: a Good Idea.

In my experience, for every three participants who confirm their attendance, 1.2 show up (Resulting in extra limbs). If you have not received an email from my Elves about the Good Ideas Forum and you would like to participate, post your Good Idea this week. Those who are terrified of public speaking need not fear: the moderator can read your statement for you.

Next chore: Find 50 chairs, three long tables for the food, and a sound system with at least three microphones.

The perks of the rock star life are well-documented and frequently overstated. The adrenaline rush of performing before several thousand screaming fans who want to be you. Meeting and getting to know many interesting people, some of whom are very attractive. Access to all sorts of stimulating stuff which you tell yourself you can enjoy in moderation. The money’s not bad, either, and you get to travel.

Less frequently documented are the aggravations of the rock star life.

Hearing problems. People never leaving you alone, unless they’re leaving you alone forever. Creative droughts. In-fighting. Bad eating habits that compound pre existing health conditions, leading to rumors of your own death. Don’t forget dealing with assorted clichés. Worse, being regarded as a cliché.

And then there’s The Waiting. Waiting in airports. Waiting for the van to transport band, instruments, crew to gigs and hotels. Waiting in dressing rooms. Waiting in recording studios. Waiting for each other. Waiting to. . .

Hitting the road, with gizmos, in Emotional Weather Report (Gadgets edition) today in the Star.