A few of us at the office have been obsessed with Bobby Newberry for a couple of months now. He’s an LA-based choreographer who makes these really sexy routines in a style called “jazz funk.” (A hiphop friend tells me it still falls under hiphop.) You can see some of his work here. Some friends kept asking me to put together a workshop, and last night it finally happened!
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My Holy Week penitensya was to clean my room. I had to sort through my stuff, and ended up getting rid of a lot of clothes and bags. The hardest thing about cleaning is coming across letters and files–with clothes, you just take a look and decide whether to keep or dump them, a process that generally takes a few seconds. With letters and files, you have to read through them, and that takes way too much time.
I decided to stop myself from reading every single letter in a box I found; otherwise, I would never finish cleaning. But I recognized my yaya’s writing on one envelope and couldn’t resist opening it. My beloved yaya, Dada Flora, passed away around three or four years ago, and I was devastated. She had retired about two weeks before, had gone home to her province, and there, she suddenly passed. I was so inconsolable that H had to come see me at work to make sure I was OK.
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I have to rewrite my life story.
When I was in grade school, a teacher made us do an utterly morbid exercise–we had to write our life story, up until our death! For some reason, I wrote that I died of breast cancer in my 50s. The age seemed like a long way off, and the cancer…I have no explanation for it.
Today, I realized that I sent that signal out to the universe. I went to see the doctor, and there were talks of possible cysts, and fear gripped its clammy hands over me. Was this my doing? Was my story coming true? (Blame this thought on my having read The Secret.)
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You know, I don’t think Easter gets as much recognition as it deserves. I’m not too crazy about how Christmas has become so commercialized, but I think Easter should merit just as much fanfare–for Christians, it is THE day for rejoicing! I can’t say I did anything special yesterday, other than have dinner out to celebrate the end of fasting and abstinence. I did attempt to have mass with mumsy, but our schedules were so off that we couldn’t manage it. Maybe next year I’ll fix a nice family dinner–just to celebrate the gift of life.
Happy Easter, everybody!
Warning: Shallow post ahead
I finally got bangs! Honest-to-goodness, full-on fringe bangs. I’ve always wanted bangs, just to see what I would look like with them, but a lot of the salons I went to before would say that my hair was too thin or whatever. Last year, I went to see Rene Vizmanos of J23 Salon (along Timog Ave.), upon the recommendation of Marie Claire beauty ed Marie. And I suuuper loved what he did with my hair–side-swept bangs that had people asking me, “What took you so long to cut it?”
I was long overdue for a haircut, and decided to take the plunge and ask Rene if I could have real bangs. Without any hesitation, he said, “Yes!” and snipped away. I totally trust him with my hair!
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During one of the free-time windows on a recent business trip to Singapore, I went to the National Museum. I was awestruck. One of the major wings, the Singaporean History wing, is this multilevel, vast exhibit area. You’re handed an audio device with ear phones and a handheld control with a numbered keypad on it…
The floor of the History wing is numbered, and so when you get to a particular section, you just punch in the number on the device to hear the narration about whatever is in that section. Wala lang…was truly appreciative of how they thought of a simple way for visitors to enjoy the thing at their own pace, instead of the usual “herded like cattle by museum guide” procedure.
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My former boss sent us some sort of illustration before, showing the difference between young workers and old workers–the young ones would look haggard on Monday, progressively looking better as the week wore on. For the old ones, the opposite was true.
At least I know that I’m still part of the young group! I am still recovering from my weekend, wherein a lack of sleep seemed to be the theme. Friday night, I met up with friends because Marie, a high school classmate, was in town from the US. The next morning, I had to go to work, and my schedule was so delayed that all my plans got pushed back a couple of hours.
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