Tuesday, December 10, 2013


Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy, Helen Fielding

Poleaxed by pain, as though a great stake was ramming me to the bed, straight to the heart, unable to move in case I disturbed the pain and it spread.

KBO: Keep Buggering On.

Better to die of botox than die of loneliness because you're so wrinkly.

It's always nice when things go badly for other people. Especially when they've just been rude to you.

You see, this is the trouble with the modern world. If it was the days of letter-writing, I would never have even started to find a pen, a piece of paper, an envelope, a stamp, and Leatherjacketman's home address and gone outside at 11:30pm with two children asleep in the house to find a postbox. A text is gone at the brush of a fingertip, like a nuclear bomb or Exocet missile.

* Do not text when drunk
* Always be classy, never be crazy
* Be on time
* Use Authentic Communication
* Do not go to the wrong place
* Do not confuse him. Be rational, congruent, and consistent.
* Do not obsess or fantasize.
* Do not obsess or fantasize when driving.
* Respons to what is actually going on, not what you wish was going on.
* On first date just go along with whatever he suggests (unless Morris dancing, dogfight, obvious booty call, etc.)
* Be sure he makes you feel happy.
* Try to retain some vestige of objectivity.
* When he comes, we welcome. When he goes, we let him go.
* Don't get stoned or pissed out of brain.
* Be calm smiling goddess of light.
* Allow things to unfold like a petal at their own pace, e.g. do not demand to make third date in insecure panic in middle of sex on second date.
* Wear something sexy but that you feel comfortable in.
* Stay calm, confident, and centered re: whole thing -- consider meditation, hypnotherapy, psychotherapy, antipsychotic medication, etc.
* Don't come on too obviously strong, but do do sensual things like stroking stem of wine glass up and down.
* Don't pre-arrange first-time sex.
* Don't try to have sex too soon.
* Don't make him feel caged.
* Never mention any of the following: exes, how fat you are, how insecure you are, problems, issues, money, cellulite, Botox, liposuction, facial peels/ lasers/ microdermabrasion, etc., control undergarments, possible shared parking permits when married, seating plans for wedding reception, babysitters, marriage/ religion (unless you've just realized he's a polygamous Mormon, in which case get blind drunk and bring up all of the previous in one hysterical gabble and excuse yourself because you feel fat and have to get back for the babysitter).
* Create beautiful memories.
* Do not text while drunk.

There's nothing nicer than a friend who claims her own children are more badly behaved than your own.

It's an interesting thing, the ages at which men and women want each other more than the other does:

TWENTIES: Women have the upper hand because pretty much everyone wants to shag them so they have a lot of power. And twenty-something men are super-horny but haven't made it in their careers yet.

THIRTIES: Men definitely have the upper hand. Thirties is the worst possible time for a woman to be dating: whole thing increasingly loaded by biologically unfair ticking clock: a clock which will hopefully soon be transformed, by the perfection of Jude-style egg-freezing, into silent digital clock with no need for an alarm. Meanwhile, men sense it like sharks scenting blood and are also simultaneously perfecting their careers, so the balance tips more and more in their favor until...

FORTIES: Not sure about this because I was with Mark most of the time. Maybe about equal? If you take babies out of the equation. Or maybe men think they're on top because they think they want younger women and think age-equivalent women want them. But actually secretly the women equally want younger men. And the younger men like the older women because they're refreshingly not looking to them to be breadwinners and not thinking about babies any more.

FIFTIES: It used to be the age of Germaine Greer's "Invisible Woman", branded as non-viable, post-menopausal sitcom fodder. But now with the Talitha school of branding combined with Kim Cattrall, Julianne and Demi Moore, etc. is all starting to change!

SIXTIES: Balance completely shifting, as men realize they've got as far as they're going to get in their careers and that they've never really made friends in the way women do, but just talked about golf and stuff. And women take better care of themselves -- look at Helen Mirren and Joanna Lumley!

SEVENTIES: Definitely women have the upper hand, and still do themselves out nicely, and make a nice home and cook and --

Love feeling that there is someone else out there who cares about all the little things you yourself get excited about.

The fantastic thing about texting is that it allows you to have an instant, intimate, emotional relationship giving each other a running commentary on your lives, without taking up any time whatsoever or involving meetings or arrangements or any of the complicated things which take place in the boring old non-cyber world.

After a certain age, people are just going to do what they're going to do and you're either going to accept them as they are or you're not.

There was such a rush of joy and relief that we were back with that secure feeling of knowing someone cares, and understands your sense of humor, and it wasn't all cold and empty and over, we were still there.

We do not wallow. We do not descend into feelings of being crap with men. We do not think that everyone else's life is perfect except ours.

It only takes a really bad thing to nearly happen to make you appreciate what you have.


Allegiant, Veronica Roth

She is a woman of muscle twisted around bone.

Chaos and destruction do tend to take away a person's dating possibilities.

When you kill someone you love, the hard part is never over. It just gets easier to distract yourself from what you've done.

Confidence alone can get a person into a forbidden place.

The dauntless serum gives hallucinated realities, Candor's gives truth, Amity's gives peace, Erudite's gives death, Abnegation's resets memory.

Dauntless: brave but cruel
Erudite: intelligent but vain
Amity: peaceful but passive
Candor: honest but inconsiderate
Abnegation: selfless but stifling

People can't really be trusted to lie consistently.

Tricking someone into grief is one of the cruelest tricks a person can play.

Desperation can make a person do surprising things.

Knowledge is power. Power to do evil... or power to do good. Power itself is not evil. So knowledge itself is not evil.

It's not always wise to strike as hard as you can at the first opportunity.

If someone offers you an opportunity to get closer to your enemy, you always take it.

Such a grim view of human nature you have.

When you control information, or manipulate it, you don't need force to keep people under your thumb. They stay there willingly.

I am wary of desperate people.

There's bravery and then there's masochism.

I used to think that when people fell in love, they just landed where they landed, and they had no choice in the matter afterward. And maybe that's true of beginnings, but it's not true of this, now... I fell in love with him. But I don't just stay with him by default as if there's no one else available to me. I stay with him because I choose to, every day that I wake up, every day that we fight or lie to each other or disappoint each other. I choose him over and over again, and he chooses me.

Don't confuse your grief with guilt.

When someone wrongs you, you both share the burden of that wrongdoing -- the pain of it weighs on both of you. Forgiveness, then, means choosing to bear the full weight all by yourself.

It's not often you encounter the real person behind a good-natured mask, the darkest parts of someone. It's not comfortable when you do.

Maybe forgiveness is just the continual pushing aside of bitter memories, until time dulls the hurt and the anger, and the wrong is forgotten.

A fire that burns that bright is not meant to last.

Life damages us, every one.


Firefly Lane, Kristin Hannah

Drama, she'd learned, was like good punctuation: it underscored your point.

Here's what they didn't teach you in college: Get into the middle of it. Wade in.

You want a lot from this world. Me, I just want you.

No one bruised as easily as a believer.

That was the thing about best friends. Like sisters and mothers, they could piss you off and make you cry and break your heart, but in the end, when the chips were down, they were there, making you laugh even in your darkest hours.

They'd loved each other. With the wisdom of time and the passing of years, she knew that. She knew, too, that love didn't evaporate. It faded, perhaps, lost its weight like bones left out in the sun, but it didn't go away.

Keep lighting the world on fire. Those words were both an encouragement and an indictment.

Motherhood at times like this - most times - was about the steel in your spine, not the bend.

That was the sly, ruinous thing about motherhood, the thing that twisted your insides with guilt and made you change your mind and lower your standards: giving in was so damn easy.


Let It Snow, John Green Maureen Johnson & Lauren Myracle

Proximity doesn't breed familiarity.

Behind every facade of perfection is a writhing mess of subterfuge and secret sorrows.

He wasn't flawless. He had no single amazing feature. Instead, he had a confluence of agreeable aspects that were accepted by one and all add up to one very attractive whole, perfectly packaged in the right clothes.

Something about me has always liked the drama and inconvenience of bad weather. The worse the better, really.

A taste so profound and complex that it can't even be compared to other tastes, only to emotions.

I always had this idea that you should never give up a happy middle in the hopes of a happy ending, because there is no such thing as a happy ending. There is so much to lose.


Queen of Babble in the Big City, Meg Cabot

To find out a girl's faults, praise her to her girlfriends. - Benjamin Franklin

Love and Scandal are the best sweeteners of tea. - Helen Fielding


Queen of Babble Gets Hitched, Meg Cabot

Whatever souls are made of, his and mine are the same. - Emily Bronte

It's a really good show, he says, I mean, if you're ever in the mood to examine one of the bleaker examples of the depraved depths to which we as a society have sunk. Or at least the depraved depths to which the entertainment industry is determined to make us think we've sunk.

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands and crystal brooks,
With silken lines and silver hooks.
- John Donne


Queen of Babble, Meg Cabot

It's much easier to walk away than it is to have to explain to someone that you never want to see them again.

The dawn of the twentieth century is often referred to as la Belle Epoque, or "the beautiful age".


The Sum of All Kisses, Julia Quinn

Hearts didn't sink so much as they did a tight panicky squeeze.

I find awkward conversations to be very diverting.

I have found that happy people are dull.

A man had to take his triumphs where he could.

In general, it was never good to deny something that was indisputably true.


Emma, Jane Austen

The real evils, indeed, of Emma's situation were the power of having too much her own way, and a disposition to think too well of herself; these were the disadvantages which threatened alloy to her many enjoyments. The danger, however, was at present so unperceived, that they did not by any means rank as misfortunes with her.

Success supposes endeavor.

What is passable in youth is detestable in later age.

Better be without sense, than misapply it as you do.

Vanity working on a weak head, produces every sort of mischief.

A single woman, of good fortune, is always respectable.

One cannot love a reserved person.

I would much rather have been merry than wise.

There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart.

If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am. - You hear nothing but truth from me. - I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it.

Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure.

It is very difficult for the prosperous to be humble.


An Abundance of Katherines, John Green

He wanted to draw out the moment before the moment - because as good as kissing feels, nothing feels as good as the anticipation of it.

That smile could end wars and cure cancer.

Myopia. He was nearsighted. The future lay before him, inevitable but invisible.

The mysterium tremendum et fascinans - that stomach-flipping mix of awestruck fear and entrancing fascination.

They like their coffee like they like their ex-boyfriends: bitter.

Schadenfreud, finding pleasure in others' pain.

The great and terrible awe.

You can never love a person as much as you can miss them.

Books are the ultimate dumpees: put them down and they'll wait for you forever; pay attention to them and they'll always love you back.

Je pense que je t'aime. I think that I like you.


Attachments, Rainbow Rowell

Second verse same as the first.

"You're done with the future?" "I'm tightening my focus."

I believe that worrying about a bad thing prepares you for when it comes.

The whole point of clothing is to hide your shame.

Things get better - hurt less - over time. If you let them.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" "I don't know, do you believe in love before that?"


Eleanor & Park, Rainbow Rowell

Gym was an extension of hell.

She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.

There are 2 kinds of girls: the smart ones and the ones boys like.


Dusk With A Dangerous Duke, Alexandra Hawkins

The dowager did not believe in false praise or coddling. In her opinion, it fostered weakness.

"What lady concerns herself with honor?" "One worth fighting to keep."

There is no such thing as freedom, my girl. Not the sort you are dreaming about. We are all tethered in numerous ways: family, duty, expectations of our neighbors, need to fill you empty belly...

Greedy hostesses are reluctant to allow wealthy bachelors to slip through their fingers.

Only a weak-minded fool would allow a woman to dictate his life.

Truth is as deadly as a double-edged sword.

You would provoke the devil himself to violence.

Your confidence in your fellow man astounds me.


Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn

My eyes flipped open at exactly six a.m. This was no avian fluttering of the lashes, no gentle blink toward consciousness. The awakening was mechanical. A spooky ventriloquist-dummy click of the lids: the world is black and then, showtime! 6-0-0 the clock said - in my face, first thing I saw. 6-0-0. It felt different. I rarely woke at such a rounded time. I was a man of jagged risings: 8:43, 11:51, 9:26. My life was alarm less.

Should I remove my soul before I come inside?

The late 90's, the last gasp of the glory days, although no one knew it then.

My kind of writers: aspiring novelists, ruminative thinkers, people whose brain don't work quick enough to blog or link or tweet, basically old, stubborn blowhards.

Suicide is painless.

There's something disturbing about recalling a warm memory and feeling utterly cold.

Oh, here is the rest of my life. It's finally arrived.

I contain and I compartmentalize to a disturbing degree: In my belly-basement are hundreds of bottles of rage, despair, fear, but you'd never guess from looking at me.

My wife had a brilliant, popping brain, a greedy curiosity. But her obsessions tended to be fueled by competition: she needed to dazzle men and jealous-ify women.

Dad is always a proponent of a good indulgent sulk.

Most beautiful, good things are done by women people scorn.

The bankruptcy matched my psyche perfectly. For several years, I had been bored. Not a whining, restless child's boredom (although I was not above that) but a dense, blanketing malaise. It seemed to me that there was nothing new to be discovered ever again. Our society was utterly, ruinously derivative (although the word derivative as a criticism is itself a derivative). We were the first human beings who would never see anything for the first time.

The thing that makes me want to blow my brains out is: the second hand experience is always better.

It's a very difficult era in which to be a person, just a real, actual person, instead of a collection of personality traits selected from an endless automat of characters.

In the space of a vengeful second.

The worst feeling: when you just have to wait and prepare yourself for the lie.

Lovesick words, hateful intentions.

All those things that spineless women say, confusing their weakness with morality.

Most men have sports as the lingua-franca of dudes.

The iceman melteth!

You sleep the sleep of the damned.

Unconditional love is an undisciplined love, and as we all have seen, undisciplined love is disastrous.

Monday, November 25, 2013

On Millennials

"I am a millennial. Generation Y, born between the birth of aids and 9/11 give or take. They call us the Global Generation. We are known for our entitlement and narcissism. Some say it’s because we’re the first generation where every kid gets a trophy just for showing up. Others think it’s because social media allows us to post whenever we fart or have a sandwich for all the world to see. But it seems that our one defining trait is a numbness to the world, an indifference to suffering. I know that I did anything I could to not feel — sex, drugs, booze. Just take away the pain. Take away my mother and my asshole father and the press. Take away the boys I loved who wouldn’t love me back. Hell, I was gang-raped, two days later I was back in class like nothing happened. I mean that must have hurt like hell, right? Most people never get over stuff like that, and I was like, ‘Let’s go for Jamba Juice.’ I would give everything I have or have ever had just to feel pain again. To feel hurt." - AHS

Wednesday, November 13, 2013


"The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of a mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one."
- The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger.

Honestly, as long as all of the relief goods and donations reach the victims of Yolanda/ Haiyan, who cares if politicians are using it as a campaign tool? We should all donate to help the cause, and not for applause. I, for one, do not need to be recognized as a hero. Someone else can take credit. My only concern right now is that help is coming for those in need, in whatever form.

Shaming those who are posting selfies (of which I am not a fan) is counterproductive. Who are you to say that this person is self-centered? How do you know he or she isn't just posting a photo of his or her self post volunteering for 12 hours?

Silence does not equate to apathy. Just because some people are not as vocal about their volunteer work does not mean that they do not care.

    Sunday, October 13, 2013

    Quotedump: House of hades

    'Choices' said Hecate. 'You stand at the crossroads, Hazel Levesque. And I am the Goddess of Crossroads.'

    'He would have you believe that all choices are black or white, yes or no, in or out. In fact, it's not that simple. Whenever you reach the crossroads, there are always at least three ways to go... four, if you count going backwards.'

    Spes, Goddess of Hope.

    The greatest heroes didn't get happy endings.

    Cocytus. The river of lamentation.

    In the old days, people called the seventh month the ghost month. That's when the spirit world and the human world were closest.

    All great warriors are afraid. Only the stupid and the delusional are not.

    There wasn't much difference between longing and greed.

    Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work - a quest that never ends. It demands everything from you - especially the truth. Only then does it yield rewards. - Cupid

    Love was the most savage monster of all.

    'Oh, I wouldn't say Love always makes you happy.' His voice sounded smaller, much more human. 'Sometimes it makes you incredibly sad.'

    Misery is eternal.

    The woman was beautiful in a timeless, regal way -- like a statue you might admire but could never love. Her eyes sparkled with malice.

    Sunday, September 22, 2013

    Number 2

    What's it like being number 2?

    No one asks that question. I guess it's taboo to make someone aware that they aren't top pick. I guess it isn't kind to point to someone that they just didn't make the cut. Or were too late. Or were just not reason enough to wait. No one asks that question, and therefore no one ever gets to answer it.

    Well, here it is.

    Being number 2 is not so much as being the 2nd winner, as it is being the 1st loser. Being number 2 is a series of heartbreaks. Take it from me.

    Loving someone who has already loved - really loved - someone before you feels like being the second wife. It's a lot like being in a relationship with someone just recently divorced. You get a version of the great person they are, deep down in their bones, only you get it second-hand. You get it with the minor scratches that no one really notices until inspected up close. You get it with the bumps and cracks that were painstakingly covered with smiles and laughter. You get it with the lingering feeling of not really owning it, not possessing it. You get it with the knowledge that this wasn't - isn't - really yours. Not really. This was not made for you, it is not a perfect fit. And slowly, the realization that you will never ever be their first choice, that some time in the past they have decided to forfeit even the possibility of meeting someone like you, and they made it willingly and, deep breath here, happily dawns on you. You were not worth the wait. You weren't their first choice, even if they hadn't even known about you then. The person you were dreaming of... well, that person didn't dream about you back. And that's your first heartbreak.

    Nothing hurts like the first heartbreak.

    Slowly, you learn to accept that. Slowly, you learn to come to terms with the fact that you just weren't at the right place at the right time. Or you think you have. Or you fool your partner into thinking you have while it festers inside you like cancer. And making your partner feel secure is really the best choice you have right now. It's the only choice you have. So you pick yourself up from the heartbreak and you dust your weary heart off. Until, one day, you are confronted with more than just the little theoretical knowledge that you are second best. You begin to find old pieces of dear number 1 in your life, your house, your partner. You begin to notice that your greatest humiliation -- that you aren't first choice -- isn't just being witnessed by you. It's being witnessed by your partner too. He knows. And you thought that of the little pride you had left, it would at least end in only YOU knowing you're a phony. But you couldn't have even that.

    I guess it's unfair to demand to be someone's first real love. Feelings are feelings and forcing them out of the way never ends well, take it from the books. I've just always felt like it was a sort of unspoken agreement between all feeling beings of the world that love -- that tiny tiny thing that keeps us from literally just losing it (whatever it is) -- is a sacred act given only once. You can love someone, sure. We all have pasts, right? But isn't it sort of a rule that after having your heart trampled on, you write that entire relationship off as "I thought it was love, but it wasn't. It was just something like it."? If not, then it really should be. In my past, I thought I had been in love, but after each broken heart, I realized that love is not painful. NOT EVER. And so I don't consider myself as having ever been in love. And meeting someone, being committed to someone, who so adamantly and wholly admits to loving someone - someone who is most definitely and decidedly NOT you - is like taking a bullet. Again and again and again.

    And after all of that, you begin to doubt yourself. You stop seeing yourself in that light that can come from being the only true person to know all of your feelings and goodness.

    Being someone's second love is a very tough act. I will always applaud people who can get into relationships with divorcees, because take it from me, being number 2 is a mind-numbingly painful thing to be.

    Monday, August 12, 2013

    3 Reasons

    According to Bridget Jones, you shouldn't stay with someone if you can name at least 3 reasons as to why you should break up.

    Number 1) You cheated. This should be a deal breaker, but seeing as you didn't actually cheat with physical intimacy, I can see why this would be a questionable way to phrase what happened. Dishonesty is lying. And lying is cheating. And I caught you. I witnessed it in all of its seedy glory. B says that what you did was a form of voyeurism. You may not have touched, you may not even have made contact -- but that's what makes it dirtier. Plus you kept it from me and had no intention whatsoever of telling me had you gotten away with it.

    Number 2) You make me feel like I'm second rate. I'm always going to think I am second best (or even third and possibly fourth!!!!)  to your first love, the love of your life, and your one and only friend with benefits. I was denied even those titles! If and when we do decide to call it quits, I will be just another red on your ledger. I am your nothing special ex girlfriend who had to fight those demons, those shades and shadows of your pas,t in silence.

    Number 3)

    Oh God, I've become one of those girls I detest so much, haven't I? Someone hand me a Valium. I need sleep.

    Saturday, May 18, 2013

    The Great Gatsby

    As with all ambitious adaptations of great american literature, and certainly most especially for something as highbrow as The Great Gatsby -- possibly America's most precious literary gem to date, one can expect a polarizing reaction from the audience.

    Indeed, with society's penchant for book purism and nitpicking at the slightest deviation, The Great Gatsby is sure to illicit strong negative reactions for seemingly little to no reason at all. If Francis Scott Fitzgerald could hear us all, I'm sure he will find the irony that his take on the great American dream -- the lust for power, and beauty, and money, and glamour, and fame at whatever cost -- can bring to fore the ugliest traits in individuals of our time, an age less than a decade short of a century later, supposedly advanced and modern in all possibly ways.

    As a reader, and as one of Baz Luhrmann's biggest supporters, I could not help but think back on certain scenes both in and out of the novel and of the film. While most literary academics will spit out words like "gauche", "crass", "unsubtle", "loud", "gaudy", and "tawdry" to describe this film, I choose to use words like "dazzling", "spectacular", "riveting", "awe-inspiring", and "magical". I feel like the decadence and sleaziness of the film can attribute itself to the fact that the 20's, though more conservative than we in many ways, was an age of pure and carnal lust for living on the edge. The prohibition, the speakeasies, the general drunkenness of New York and the rich and illustrious at the time was nothing short of jaw-dropping in one of the world's most pivotal moments.

    Tobey Maguire provided the rock solid foundation through his narrative that one feels like he is engaged in a conversation with the actual Nick Carraway confiding about his summer mingling with the gliteratti, the rich, the famous, the powerful, and the beautiful in all of their love, deceits, and half-truths. You feel inspired as he talks about The Great Jay Gatsby (Leo di Caprio), and just as soon feel the disillusionment provided by [SPOILER ALERT] his selfish and careless cousin, the beautiful and unreachable Daisy Buchanan (Carey Mulligan), and her philandering blue blooded husband, Tom (Joel Edgerton).

    Leonardo diCaprio's take as the enigmatic Jay Gatsby is nothing short of brilliant and Carey Mulligan's performance as shallow yet beautiful Daisy is magical. One can certainly see how she managed to capture and imprison the heart of Gatsby for long after they first meet. Their chemistry sizzles and one cannot help but be reminded of diCaprio's turn as Romeo Montague in Baz Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet. His face, so beautiful and hopeful and expressive provides the perfect canvas for the spectacle of Luhrmann's vivid imagination.

    While many may compare The Great Gatsby to Moulin Rouge and Romeo + Juliet, certainly the tale of circumstance, bad timing, and tragic love from the voice of a disillusioned writer is cause for comparison, Gatsby is, in its purest sense, very far indeed from being about star-crossed lovers. While Romeo + Juliet and Moulin Rouge is, in its core, a story of true and unapologetic love, Gatsby is the tale of the death of hope. While the love story of Fitzgerald's scharacters is certainly tragic, it is more heartbreaking that it is all seen through the eyes of innocent and naive Nick Carraway, who, at the very end, was the only one who saw the true greatness of Gatsby's character.

    The Great Gatsby is summed up perfectly by Carraway's (and the novels!) parting lines: “Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter — tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther... And one fine morning — So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

    Nothing could be closer to the truth to both Fitzgerald's and Luhrmann's productions.

    Friday, April 19, 2013

    You Are More Beautiful Than You Think

    You are more beautiful than you think.

    Unbelievably dull, dead, brown hair.
    No forehead, no chin.
    Round face.
    Bushy unibrow.
    Eyes slightly too big, and slightly too close together.
    Eyes an uninspired brown.
    Crooked nose.
    Upper lip just as full as lower lip.
    Crooked teeth.
    Pallid skin.
    Tiny stature.
    Big boned.
    Top heavy.
    Muffin top.
    Thunder thighs.
    Hairy body.
    Flabby arms.
    Flabby thighs.



    What happened to us? That we now send our children into the world like we send young men to war. Hoping for their safe return but knowing that some will be lost along the way.

    Boston, stay vigilant. Stay safe.

    Friday, April 12, 2013


    "To the outside world, we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other's hearts. We share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys. We live outside the touch of time." - Ida Pamandanan-Salangsang.


    "We are the girls with anxiety disorders, filled appointment books, five-year plans. We take ourselves very, very seriously. 

    We are the peacemakers, the do-gooders, the givers, the savers. We are on time, overly prepared, well read, and witty, intellectually curious, always moving.

    We pride ourselves on getting as little sleep as possible and thrive on self-deprivation. We drink coffee, a lot of it. We are on birth control, Prozac, and multivitamins.

    We are relentless, judgmental with ourselves, and forgiving to others. We never want to be as passive-aggressive as our mothers, never want to marry men as uninspired as our fathers.

    We are the daughters of the feminists who said “You can be anything” and we heard “You have to be everything.""

    Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters.

    Saturday, April 6, 2013


    "There's never been a true war that wasn't fought between two sorts of people who were certain they were in the right. The really dangerous people believe that they are doing whatever they are doing solely and only because it is, without question, the right thing to do. And that is what makes them dangerous."

    - American Gods.

    Sunday, March 10, 2013

    The Shady Wedding

    Vanity first:

    Date: March 08, 2013
    Theme: Wedding Carnivale
    Church: Calruega Chapel, Nasugbu Batangas
    Reception: Alfonso Farm, Cavite.

    All photos from: Shutterhound and Tita L!

    Friday, March 1, 2013

    More On Mochi's Balls

    Am I taking this too far? No.

    So it's the Friday after Mochi's neutering (which was done last Monday) and while the pup seems alert, he is also a wee bit melodramatic.

    The latest update on Mochi post-op is that he is currently refusing to walk nor to stand; he just sits there or lays down. Normally I'd be at wit's end trying to find ways to comfort my dog but after a lot of conversations with 2 of his vets and countless internet research, I've found some anecdotes that has helped put my mind at ease and heart at rest.

    As is my luck, smaller breeds of male dogs are known to be quite the divas and drama queens. A concerned pet parent such as myself was kind enough to post online some of his concerns regarding his pet's post-op recovery. He has been just as vigilant as I in medicating the pup and experienced many of the things I am currently experiencing now:

    I took Rocky to get neutered last Monday morning and they had him finished by the afternoon and kept him overnight to monitor him. He came home with an e-cone and two external stitches and some meds. From the day he he came home he refused to walk which was normal but now a week has past and I've administered all his medications on time ( Metacam for inflammation, Tramadol for pain and Panolog cream for help with irritation) and the swelling has gone down significantly and everything on his scrotum looks much better and healed. Still he won't walk very much, he did start to try and walk a lot but he squats while he walks. I took him back to the vet and they said everything looks fine and he can just be taking a little longer to get over it but from what I read most peoples dogs were back to normal in about 2 or 3 days.

    A number of other owners have responded to him that as long as there is no infection (yellow or green pus-like discharge) or wound break (it will contain a cheese-like white or yellow necrotic tissue inside), the dog is more likely showing signs of drama than anything else. As with people, there are different thresholds of pain when it comes to dogs. Some dogs balk at the slightest discomfort or foreign feeling while other dogs can ignore this and go on their merry-way.

    Having read that, I pat myself in the back as all is fine.

    Rubbing the Panolog Cream on the incision site, however, is a whole different story.

    Thursday, February 28, 2013

    Drug Lord

    It's official. My dog is just as (medicinal)drug-dependent as his mother.

    After a stressful morning for both me and the pup, I've decided to rush him to the vet for his post-op check-up. I noticed that he wasn't feeling quite as boisterous as he was yesterday, he can not stand nor walk for long periods of time (meaning 5 seconds or 5 steps long), his whimpering is back in full force (though not as forceful as his first night), and his urine and feces were nowhere to be seen. The findings? Itchiness and SEVERELY low pain tolerance. Euck. This means more chemicals for my boy.

    A current listing of the drugs I am plying my dog with:
    Amoxycilin (Antibiotic) 2x a day for 10-14 days
    Immunisin (Immune booster) 2x a day for 15-30 days
    Hemostan (Anti-inflammatory) 2x a day for 3-4 days
    Tramadol (Painkiller) 2x a day for 3 days
    Panolog Cream (For irritation and anti-inflammatory) 2x a day for 3 days

    I am now heavier of heart and lighter of pocket.

    But for this little guy? Anything.

    Tuesday, February 26, 2013

    Losing His Marbles

    So as many of you know, I acquired myself a pup a couple of months back. It has been one hell of an experiencing parenting him -- and not in a notice-him-whenever-it-suits-me way. I've been dealt with the financial responsibilities, cleaning-up duties, and giving him the notice and affection he needs even when time can not permit. That's a hell load of dough, poop, pee, showering, taking him to meetings, not going to the mall or seeing my friends because I can't bring Mochi, and play than most of you will ever know. I really have gone mommy mode.

    Exactly 2 weeks ago, right after his 6th month, I took him to the vet to get neutered. Unfortunately, even the best laid plans go awry and we have had to postpone his surgery due to the unavailability of his vet. We scheduled it for the Monday after and Mochi left balls intact. That following Monday, we headed to the vet gung-ho on getting this over with. As it is customary for dogs to have a blood test done before going under the knife, we had one issued for our boy. As (un)luck would have it, even if Mochi's blood test came up (pretty)good, his vet did not want to operate as Mochi was severely stressed. We were recommended to put him on antibiotics (amoxycilin and immunisin) and to re-schedule him for the next week. You can not know the frustration I felt then. Even if I would have never risked Mochi's life for anything, I was beginning to feel anxious.

    The Monday of his surgery came and we were all thunderbirds-a-go. We entrusted Mochi to the vet and left him for his neutering. To say that I was anxious would not really encompass the nerves that were forming knots in my stomach -- to put it bluntly, I was a wreck. A volcano waiting to erupt. A man so far in the precipice that I would have jumped at the slightest taunt.

    The surgery was a success, thank God. It's been 2 days since and Mochi is slowly adjusting. His recovery is going smoothly. Milestone! Now I'm up to my knees in bills, medicine, monitoring, and working but I have to stick this out for 8 days more. Who knew a parent's life was so difficult?

    So, my friends, if there is anything I ask of you  it is this: Please pray that no more difficulty come my boy (and me!) For this, I will be eternally grateful.

    Photo c/o Blu Salangsang. (:


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