don't mess with texas

Texas sues Sony under anti-spyware law

oh, and do your part. Boycott Sony.

~*~*~*
~Home~ from "Beauty and the Beast", the musical
~Mou Ichido~ Macross II

i'm not a pucci sort of gal

but i do like these rain boots. And these ballerina flats: red velvet, with a grosgrain ribbon, pointed toe and satin-covered heel!

There's a free screening of "rent" this evening

musical favorites:

~Seasons of Love~ from "rent"
~Meadowlark~ from "The Baker's Wife

i don't feel like blogging anymore

all the words to say have been said. I need to spend more time living. This place will still be here. Maybe it will become a glorified photo album-cum-audio file organizer.

Hit the ground running, don't look back.

we have a lot of sweets here at home

and i had plenty of time on my hands today, so i thought i'd share.

We have

Mexican sweets

..ojarascas (crumbly Mexican cinnamon cookies) and peanut brittle

baked goods

...marble cake and cream cheese-topped brownie bites

native snacks

...espasol, polvoron, and turrones de kasuy

single servings

... of Jello (strawberry and peach), applesauce, and yogurt. Have you noticed that Martini and Rossi's Asti now comes in individual-size bottles? It's 10.84 for a 4-pack.

frozen goodies

...orange creamsicle, grape popsicle, fudgesicle and vanilla ice cream

and of course, the post-Halloween candy bowl

seeing red

In Western cartoons, characters turn red with anger, occasionally venting steam through their ears or maybe even imagining how best to kill or maim the object of anger.

The Japanese, creative people, have developed a most wondrous concept in animation: the battle aura. It is a visual device that helps to denote either a fighter's skill level or emotional intensity, and is illustrated as a nimbus or shape either enveloping or hovering over the character.

It is usually just an amorphous cloud radiating from the warrior, but can be in the form of a flame, angel wings or an animal shape. Battle auras have varying colors and opacities.
Sometimes a particularly formidable opponent can be introduced as a dragon or large creature, which upon approach will dissolve to reveal the fighter generating so much chi.

Lately I have been simmering with barely-tempered anger, unmitigated with the passing of time. I can feel it like a storm brewing around my head, and I imagine that if i generated my own battle aura, my hair would spread out in all directions, not a pretty smooth pelt, but an ominous, living mass in the shape of a giant black dove. It would be twisted and angry and writhing, as if constantly battling itself, perpetually trying to break free.

Or maybe I'd have living hair, like Marvel's Medusa (remember her?). She was my second favorite superhero, after Wonder Woman. Yeah, I think red suits the angry hair bit.

And on that red note, i present my favorite shoes.



Alanis' ~Forgiven~
TFATDOC ~Pasko Na, Sinta Ko~

an alarming awakening

I woke up this morning to a shrill alarm. At first I thought it was the smoke detector, but the green light was shining cheerily. It was definitely coming from the bedroom, because closing the door muted it. I finally figured out that it was coming from a speaker in the wall.

When I went downstairs the neighbors were outside. Apparently it's a building fire alarm. The streetlamps and warning lights on each side of the building were flashing. I called 911 and the dispatcher reassured me that the fire department was already on the way.

It's been almost an hour and the damn thing is still beeping --- no, shrieking intermittently. False alarm, but they can't seem to keep it off. The fireman asked if there had been a power fluctuation, and the guy who lives two doors down said that he'd noticed that power fluctuates often in this building. Because I haven't, I think what it really means is that he's got faulty wiring or something that caused us all to wake up at 6 am on a Sunday morning.

This is the sound that greeted me: (recorded from the next room)
My morning wakeup call

~*~*~*

Xmas Song du jour
~The Christmas Song~

i woke up angry this morning

i haven't been getting enough sleep, and right now i really hate my job because the workload is increasing, the managers are getting more demanding, and there is no end in sight. The apartment's still a mess and I am soooo frustrated with all of it.

Happy holidays to you too.

(sigh)

In other news I still haven't ordered flowers or a gift basket for my mom's birthday, even though the day itself was this past Wednesday. Last night Patrick went out for Guys' Night Out II: Cheesecake Factory (Dallas) and Saw II. He came home at 3 a.m., with a slice of seasonally-available pumpkin pecan cheesecake to share. We ate it for dessert this evening.

The Chicago Sun-Times has the movie listed as "Saw It" in their box office sales table. I have three words for "Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit": cute. little. bunnies. Waving happily. (!!!) Do see it.

The latest cheesecake offering sounds good: white chocolate caramel latte cheesecake. The tuxedo cheesecake reminds me: why do people insist on pronouncing it "maRscarpone"?

Today was Jessica in Jewelry's second baby shower. Second because it's her second pregnancy, a girl this time. I thought it was at 5 but apparently it was 2 pm, and over by 3:45, when I got there. My dental hygienist is 8 months pregnant. Gloria, Jen, Jessica plus her make 4.

Thought of the day:
Shit is fertilizer, anger is fuel. Use them.

Sound bites:
Alanis' ~Right Through You~
Jewel's ~Painters~
Carol a Day: ~O Holy Night~

i really ought to be more careful what I blog about

search terms that have led people to my blog:

panties hamper
"Rosanna Roces"
shoes with sequins

The Forty and Twelve Days of Christmas

Ongoing project. One new Christmas song recording every day until Christmas.

11/04 ~Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas~
11/05 ~O Holy Night~
11/o6 ~The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire)~
11/07 ~O Little Town of Bethlehem~
11/08 ~Pasko Na, Sinta Ko~

you cannot fully know me

I am sorry, I have tried, but it simply cannot be helped.

Were I chained to the computer, and entirely truthful and forthcoming about every single thought that occurred to me, maybe then you would really know me. But I have a life, such as it is, and every day there are at least five things I want to write about, and only one or two can be accommodated.

Our doorbell did not ring on All Hallow's Eve. Not once. I wanted to reflect on this, and be sad for the breakdown of the American community, but we are off to run errands and catch a movie afterwards. I have one more free pair of Fandango tickets left, we've been yearning for a fun animated movie, and Wallace and Gromit (!!!) is playing.

~*~*~*

Sound bites
~Ili Ili~, an Ilonggo lullaby
~Danny Boy~, an Irish folk song

a little catty

A word of advice: if you ever decide to dress up for Halloween, go all-out and make yourself readily identifiable. It'll take people less time to go from "What is she?" to "Did she do it well?" to "What do I say?"

I dressed up as a cat, sans makeup. Though the majority of people got it right, two people mistook me for a wolf, and one person each thought I was a raccoon, a dog, and a mouse.

Texans being Texans, they are never at a loss for words. The one phrase I used to love but now dread the most was uttered but once by a lady who didn't know what to make of my getup. She said, "Well, aren't you just precious?"

If you don't understand what the problem is, see Sophia Dembling's instructive "Yankee Chick's Survival Guide to Texas".

~*~*~*

It's rather unfortunate that my two best friends at work also happen to be the only two people in the building with ailurophobia. That's right. Fear of cats.

I knew Blanca disliked cats, but I didn't know Luz would literally be paralyzed by fear when asked to touch my tail. Happily, they both got over it well enough to say my costume suited me. I look sweet as a cat daw. That was a compliment, right?

Oh, and people are really odd about fluffy, realistic tails. Either they want to tug it till it hurts (which it won't, duh) or they are extremely uncomfortable holding it, doing so perfunctorily with that ok-i-did-what-you-asked-can-i-go-now look on their faces.

~*~*~*

Site-find of the evening: Figleaves.com
It's like my department at work, only a lot nicer. And isn't the name just fabulous?

Ok, so you're probably not the type to shell out $110 for a Roberto Cavalli bra. Still, i think it's amazing to find a lingerie retail site that sells bras from size 28AA to 56FF and everything in-between. They've got all the great brands, too: Aubade, La Perla, Natori. The only name missing is Marlies Dekkers. For once in my life I wish I were a smaller bra size -- just so I could fit into this cute little $15 number from Miss Lepel.

it's a sad day when...

you get a wicked, dime-sized scrape just below your wrist, your beloved dog is too busy checking out another dog, and the one person who could kiss it all better is fast asleep and must not be woken for the next two hours.

Singing Spanish badly

I promised Luz I'd record something in Spanish this weekend. Which is why I am now hoarse and short 2.5 hours of my life. Yes, this shameless self-recording artist is now taking requests.
~Corazon Prohibido~
~Granada~

~*~*~*

No one ever told me that my gray Nikes made me a better worker. For the record, I am damn good at what I do. Since I became department manager, inventory is down, sales are up and the department is as neat as can be: every item arranged by size and color. When I was first promoted, I consistently topped the district honor roll for sales increases by percent.

So it really really annoys me that every other comment on Thursday was either "How are you going to work in those shoes?" or, more presumptuously, "Looks like Farah's not going to get any work done today." And today when I came in it was "Oh good, you've got your work shoes on today."

My job is customer service and hanging up bras and panties. Now, how exactly do 2-inch heels hamper those tasks?

just an update

the fabulous Fortasha has resigned as apparel assistant manager to become a probation officer.

they forgot how to write Elena for Zorro 2. How disappointing. I think I want to watch "Shopgirl". It seems a quiet, wistful sort of movie.

We got a washer and dryer (finally!)

David in Housewares will be undergoing a heart procedure next week and it has put the fear of God in him. Please pray for him.

I am encountering discrimination at work. Because of my shoes. Un-effing-believable.

more later,
f

it's almost midnight

and i didn't want my bedtime thoughts to be about Rosanna Roces' 15-year-old daughter's pregnancy.

so here are movie subtitles so stupid, they're funny.

Episode III
...and more

Batman Begins

You can thank Jessica Zafra for starting all this.

the God I believe in

Among my religious friends I am something of a heathen. Among the godless I am perhaps a bit pious. Where is the balance?

I consider myself a spiritual, non-religious person. I would be religious, were I to find a religion aligned with my own beliefs. But I don't seem to need religion to find God.

I have felt God in churches, yes. In ornate cathedrals peopled by cherubic stone angels and majestic sculptures. But so too have I found Presence in small chapels with plain pews of burnished wood, a strong tenor's voice filling the room and rising on sunbeams towards God.

I have never seen God. But I know when I am close. I would walk past quaint little houses, down a quiet street and over a guardrail to be with God, to sit on a craggy rock overlooking the Puget Sound, seagulls overhead, blue sea lapping at pebbled shore, reclaiming stranded starfish. The place is awash in light, and kissed by God.

Once in the midst of a writing contest, I tapped into something. I had been cramming all week, studying technique, expounding on various themes. The clock began to tick at the start of the event and I began writing furiously. In the midst of the first draft time seemed to slow, and it was as if a light had opened up and was pouring over me. My pen seemed lighter and I was writing (riding) on a higher plane. I could not tell you what I wrote; it was as if I was no longer writing, but being written through. The beacon of light was fixed on me and on this light was my direct dial, high-speed connection to God.

Once in a chess game in which I was plainly overmatched, I gained that same instant, preternatural clarity. My opponent was girl my own age naturally gifted at the game. I'd been studying for the past month, challenging anyone who knew how to play, reading any books I could find until chess notation began to scroll on the backs of my eyelids as I slept.

But when the game began my sight opened up, and on each piece I could see paths and possibilities extending several moves in advance: attacks, defenses, counters. The game ended in a draw, and I lost the match. Still, it was the most exhilarating chess I've played to date.

I guess you could say I believe in the Creator, in God as a creative force that forms, shapes and moves us and through us. He (She? It?) is an artist's God, who delights in quirky things like sunlight playing on the waves, "Shave and a Haircut, two bits", zebra stripes and rainbows.

There is an old monastic adage "Qui bene cantat bis orat": The one who sings well, prays twice. In a way, we've always known that the act of creating --whether by song, dance, food or birth -- is how we best serve and celebrate the Creator. Art is its own prayer, and creative work the most earnest worship.

noblesse oblige

Previously, I've incorrectly attributed the following to Nelson Mandela:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

~Our Deepest Fear, by Marianne Williamson
from "A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles"

~*~*~*

I was clinging to the bins at work in a less-than-worksafe way trying to get to items that were just out of reach. And then he said it. "Don't fall, Farah. Some of us here admire you."

It's not the first time he's said it, or something similar. But it is the first time it occurred to me that he just might mean it. Something like this is usually a flag that it's time for me to go.
I am surprised and ashamed. Why me? I have done nothing to deserve admiration. In the world of me, where the hallmark of achievement is maximization of one's potential, I wear mediocrity the way a pretty girl wears extra pounds or unflattering clothes and no makeup: to keep herself out of the running.

I tell myself my greatest fear is of being judged and found wanting. But the times I've run away have been because I'd been judged and found worthy. Worthy of emulation.

I am no role model. Nor do I have one. It would be a lot easier if I did. No, don't look at me -- watch him. Or her.

I like to sing when I think no one's listening. Can no one watch so I can just live? I probably would have continued on to earn my silver badge. "A cage. To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them. And all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire." (LOTR)

I stayed but a year in nursing school, the school of my mother and uncle and multiple aunts. I would have been there three years and graduated, but one classmate, torn between staying and leaving said "Well, if this school's good enough for Farah..."

Paul Tillich has said, "Everyone has a calling. Everyone is called to fulfill a purpose. Man is asked to make of himself what he is supposed to become to fulfill his destiny." But the older I get I find that choice is illusory, and there really is just the one task. Life is too short not to do the things we are meant to do.

~*~*~*

I just realized that if I feel old it is becauze I am really 26 going on 46. The number to beat is still 172.

disquiet, distractions and the done deal

The day was just the way they like it around here: sunny but cool. The sky was a beautiful bright blue with barely a cloud, and it felt just right under the sunshine but if you stood in the shade you'd feel the autumn chill.

The carpet at work has been replaced with wood flooring, and now my area feels like a dance studio. It is brighter but colder somehow too. Also, there's been a policy change. No more PA's. There goes my chance of being accidentally discovered by a voice talent scout while paging for assistance at the jewelry counter.

I do not like this rollercoaster i've been on. I do not know what to ask for. To be let off, to figure things out for myself? Or to stay at the bottom, so i know it can't possibly get any worse?

Anger, resentment, fear, despair. Boredom, longing, disappointment. Useless. Inutile. Funny how it's the same in Tagalog. Inutil.

Too much to process. I could just be tired and sad and overworked and underused. It's possible too that i'm in mourning, since I've finally finished "Sex and the City". I'm gonna miss those fabulous, funny, sassy, vulnerable girls.

Patrick's been so very happy and excited about the new(-to-us) car. Check it out:


















Luz brought some really good crispy (!) peanut brittle today.

Currently I am Sam & Libby, Nine West, Naturalizer and Rampage with rubber or rubberized plastic soles. Someday I hope to be Manolo Blahnik, Christian Louboutin and Bottega Veneta with leather soles.

This made us laugh today, Patrick and I.
Dear God,

If it looks like a slim gray column, please hover over it until a square with an orange square and blue arrows appears. Click on said square to expand the pic.

Dear God, can I please win the lottery jackpot tonight? I've been betting for the past 12 years now and haven't won yet. I promise if i win, i will sing even though I am scared, and offer it all up to You. Even if I don't ever sing gospel or Christian music.

art or advertising?

Prada Marfa opened (or, shall i say "was installed") in a West Texas town this October. Tell me what you think.

Pictures
Official Site

Reactions have been rather strong...is it really about art then, or personal perspectives on and frustrations with money (or the lack thereof)?

It was robbed the next day and has since been restored.

~*~*~*

i need sleep.