I put on my jeans which I bought last year and it fit me perfectly. I checked around the waist and it was an exact fit, as if the pants were tailor-made to my size.

I suffered from mild panic.

Rewind a year ago and I still remember my friend and colege blockmate asking me for my size. I told her I was a 28, but normally wear a 29. I'm not much of a fan of tight fits. Knowing better, blockmate insisted that I buy size 30, claiming that it would fit better. Inwardly, I suspected that she doesn't carry odd sizes, thus her insistence in stocks two sizes larger than my actual fit. I didn't bother to argue.

A year has passed since then, and I find myself filling my jeans perfectly at the waist. Living it day to day, I almost didn't realize how much I have foregone this year in terms of extra-curricular and physical activity. Strenuous and excessive amounts of overtime took its toll and has now presented me with a weakened state of physique.

I used to play volleyball regularly twice a week, and when late last year, I met a group of mountaineers, I began joining minor treks and beach outings. I was at my best form then; I felt taller, my scoliosis didn't seem to bother me anymore. I was reading faster and more varied authors, even.

Then the Circus started.

I began losing contact with most of my groups. My twice-weekly volleyabll was replaced with daily overtime. My monthly treks were replaces with weekend overtime. What's even more perplexing was that the more time I render at the Great Place, the more work seemed to pile up. My morning stretch routine was replaced with extended wallowing under the covers; my games replaced by irregular rotations of binge-eating and meal-skipping.

They say it takes at least three weeks to form a habit. I can't even comit two days straight to relearn my morning stretches. Thus, I'm stuck with a screaming spine, prolonged mornings of lethargy, and two inches gained in nine months.

Loss of self esteem doesn't even begin to describe what I'm suffering. I've become alienated from my groups and I only have myself to blame.

A few days ago, Brunswick paid me a surprise visit at the Great Place. He was at the area and decided to rescue me from my mundane existence, if even for a few minutes. Quick updates about the various people I lost contact with ensued, and I was cornered into promising to rejoin the group in the near future. I appreciate Brunswick's going out of his way to reconnect with me. I plan to repay his efforts by re-establishing with my network. My days of wallowing are long overdue, and it needs to stop, effective immediately.

I need to move once more, and in more ways than one.

Every year, we have our exchange gift at the office where we draw lots to see who we will give gifts to. Four minor gifts will be given building up to the big reveal and the handing of the major gift during the Christmas party.

I'm finally done shopping for minor exchange gift items. For the major gift, I would have to wait a few days until the person I picked finally decides on a wishlist item.

For this year, the office picked a rather kinky theme to the minor gifts:

Something to make you hot, something for your dirty mind, something too sexy for your baby, and something you can keep for life.

Most officemates opted for the sex-laden connotation of the theme, picking massage oils, FHM magazines, underwear, even x-rated dvds.

Weird that I am, I opted to tweak the definitions a bit to fit my humor.

For something to keep hot, I picked a large box of matches and candles, fire, after all, can make you hot; it can even burn you. I'm giving a pack of erasers to clear off one's dirty mind, and a jar of honey as something one can keep for life, even forever, if one wishes to. For something too sexy for my baby, I wrapped a copy of Stephen Hawking's "A Brief History of Time", which I rescued from the bargain bin last year; nothing can be sexier than the mental farts of the largest brain in modern history.

I do hope my victim, err, my givee, can appreciate the humor I have injected into the gifts I prepared. If not, then she would just have to live with it, as I'm not in the mood for buying cheap underwear and pirated dvds.

I have seen one of the most entertaining films of the year! I would have to give credit to the whole production team for their efforts; I was impressed. The producers went to great lenghts to create this cinematic marvel; they pulled out all the stops.

Impressive car chase? Check.

Stunning CGI graphics? Check.

Affective soundtrack. Booming sound effects. Explosions! Check, check, check!

There was even a love angle to boot!

The dialogue was superb. Punchlines were delivered to the point and with so much pananché, cola almost shot through my nose. And I wasn't even drinking cola!

The actors' comedic timing was dead-on, they're funny without even trying to be. I am not so much a fan of physical comedy, and I immensely enjoyed this film's use of subtlety to illicit a laugh.

Of course, no movie is perfect, and you're bound to hit a snag every now and then, but these were forgivable. Some directors just cannot resist including a tear-jerker moment. I say, to each his own.

Over-all, one of the funniest films I've seen this year. You should go watch, for sure you'll enjoy it!



What do you mean, it wasn't a comedy?

Then why was I laughing so hard?

:-)

September and October were a whirlwind of some of the best movies the world has to offer. With the German, European, Korean, Spanish and Italian film festivals set almost just one week apart from each other, it could only be described as a viewing frenzy for me and some friends.

Then October ended and there were no more news about any other movies to follow. I felt like an addict suffering from withdrawal symptoms.

Thankfully, I chanced upon a website announcing the Australian Film Festival held at the Greenbelt. The news was such a shining beacon of hope that I gleefully hoarded up info as to the movie dates. It seems to me that this event has been set without any fanfare that it didn't even register upon my radars until it's release. Apparently the Festival started last November 5 and will end at the 15th.

Unfortunately, the 2nd week of the Festival will be held, not at Greenbelt, but in Ayala Center Cebu, so this weekend would be my only opportunity to enjoy these movies.

So now, I'm off to the cinemas.

And wait for another bout of withdrawal symptoms after this festival is over, as this might be the absolute last for the year.

And no, the one held annually during December does not count in my books.

It's crunchtime once again (what else is new) and I can't make my mind stop and focus on writing. I do have some posts in mind, and I'm aching to pen them, but nothing comes out the moment I face a blank sheet with pen in hand. To unburden me of my thoughts, I'm opting for this mini-post to tide me over until that time that I can produce something of significance.



Fe Comes Back

After its successful run in the Cinemalaya, Fe went to Chicago and then to New Delhi to compete in the international scene.

The Rapture of Fe now returns home for commercial screenings at Robinson's Galleria and Robinson's Place Ermita starting November 11.

You'd have to hurry, though, because Fe will disappear once more once the Vampires and Warewolves of New Moon attack.

For more info about the film, go to their webisite.











Attention-grabber

I went inside 7-Eleven to buy foostuffs when I saw this lollipop's new packaging.

Placed inside a flip-top box and with matching "warning note" on the label, the package reminds me of cigarette cases. I guess chupa chups are now marketing themselves as alternatives to smoking for those trying to quit the habit.

Whether the marketing ploy works or not, their "warning note" is hillarious! Sucking does not kill, indeed.

Astro Voice

The movie was good and funny, though it deviated from the original story line to make for a more concise film. Thankfully, its essence was intact, and you can feel for Astro as he makes his way to find acceptance. Both boy and robot, but not belonging to either realm, Astro’s story is relatable in different levels. His yearning to belong and find his place in the world is shared by many people; much like my quest for rocket-powered red boots that would enable me to fly; it is universal in appeal.

Purists for the manga and the anime might have reason to complain about how the film was rendered, but I myself don’t mind. Though I grew up with the anime, I honestly don’t remember much about Astro’s earlier adventures. What I do remember is his unique hairstyle and his omnipresent boots, which is as much of a trademark of Astro’s as his butt machine gun.

The key to enjoying this movie, as with all other adaptations, is to forget the source material. Without something to compare to, movies like this could be experienced in its own separate light, and it frees you from feeling resentment and disappointment that the finished product is inferior to its source, because let’s face it, very few adaptations will ever surpass the awe and nostalgia that the original material brought us.

Astro Voyeur
Going out of the cinema, I suggested to Gentle that we head first to the nearest restroom to releive ourselves of the drink we downed while watching.

There is an unspoken rule when using public urinals wherein you should situate yourself one urinal apart from the next person. Seeing five empty urinals, I made a beeline for the middle urinal to do my thing. I was rather put off when a stranger moved to my left, considering that there is a perfectly usable unit further on either side, and a whole row farther inward of the restroom. Consider my shock when I saw this stranger, through my peripheral vision, start peeking over the barriers into my side of the urinal.

Having let go of control over my baldder, I had no choice but to suffer those invasive eyes until I was able to empty that well of amber liquid. To rid myself of mounting unease, I focused on myself and refused to acknowledge the stranger's existence. After I'm done, I turn to the line of sinks and see Gentle with impish glee in his eyes, having witnessed the stranger's blatant harassment; I roll my eyes at him. We exit the restroom and try to put as much distance between us and the voyeur.

Astro!
Weirdness aside, it was a fun night for movies, and seeing Astro Boy once more was like seeing a long lost childhood friend. Memories become legend, and it was enjoyable stripping those myths to find out the truth hidden in the memory.

Someone commented before that everyting is cyclical, and seeing today's trends, I believe that the statement has more than just a spark a truth in it. With Transformers, G. I. Joe, Fame, and now Astro Boy, making it big, you'd think that we're all back in the 80s.

This is a good time to be young again.

"Patay na raw si Odie. Tumawag sa akin yung vet. :-(" So states the first message I read today.


Odie is our pet daschund whom Garfield bought four years ago. A few months after purchasing Odie, Garfiled moved out of the house, leaving him to our care. Such is the irony in life that a few months after Garfield moved back in, Odie then dies.

Of all the pets we've had over the years, I've been most aloof with Odie. Lacking the time and the motivation, I've never allowed myself to establish a good rapport with him. Having lost my favorite pet a few years back, I didn't want the emotional attachment to establish with this new dog. But Odie is such an endearing pet; always eager to please, always eager for company. He would always try to find an opportunity to lick your face if you're unaware, even if you don't want him to.

Odie is overwieght. For a dog his size, he weighs almost double than normal, thanks to my mom's knack for pampering pets too much. But when Odie developed an inability to finish a walk along the street and refused to go on any further, prompting anyone walking him around to just carry him back home, my mom relented and imposed a diet for Odie, involving only two meals during the day, instead of the three full meals he once enjoyed.

The last time I saw Odie over the weekend, he looked thin but healthy. I didn't realize that he was suffering from any sickness. His absence during the past few days didn't even register on me. I didn't know he was sick, until I recieved Garfield's message earlier.

Goodbye, Odie.