Tuesday, September 28, 2010

15 Books

The rules: Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen books you've read that will always stick with you. List the first fifteen you can recall in no more than fifteen minutes. Tag fifteen friends, including me, because I'm interested in seeing what books my friends choose. (To do this, go to your Notes tab on your profile page, paste rules in a new note, cast your fifteen picks, and tag people in the note.  Do yours before you read anyone else's).

1.  'Salem's Lot (Stephen King)
2.  Memnoch the Devil (Anne Rice)
3.  The Solitaire Mystery (Jostein Gaarder)
4.  His Dark Materials trilogy (Philip Pullman)
5.  American Gods (Neil Gaiman)
6.  Different Seasons, particularly Apt Pupil (Stephen King)
7.  The Hunger Games trilogy (Suzanne Collins)
8.  The Dark Tower septology, and novels connected to it (Stephen King)
9.  The Witching Hour (Anne Rice)
10.  Neverwhere (Neil Gaiman)
11.  Dekada '70 (Lualhati Bautista)
12.  Eats, Shoots and Leaves (Lynne Truss)
13.  By the River Piedra, I Sat Down and Wept (Paolo Coelho)
14.  The Looking Glass Wars trilogy (Frank Beddor)
15.  The Bachman Books, particularly The Long Walk (Stephen King, writing as Richard Bachman)

I don't want to tag anyone though.  Haha!

Upon inspection of my list, it seems I really have too much Stephen King books in my library.  It isn't a surprise, though, that most (or almost all) fall within the genre of fantasy and fiction.  Well, as they say, to each his own. 

Monday, September 13, 2010

Addictions: Playing and Watching

Last Tuesday, I played volleyball for the first time in more than two years, maybe almost three. I never had any formal training on the sport; I was a novice back then, I felt even more so that night. Worse, I felt heavy. I couldn't run as fast, couldn't jump as high, couldn't reach as far. Not that my prowess were marvelous then, but that night, I felt more inadequate than the first times I played the sport.

I was sweating profusely. I was grasping for breath. I was straining to keep up. I was drawing on every bit of energy I had. I liked it; I missed it. It has been far too long since I exerted myself physically, and the quickened beat of my heart was a welcome disruption to my lethargic state.  

I knew, even while playing, that I was in for a lot of hurt the next day; I embraced it. My friends advised me to take painkillers before going to sleep, as they were sure, as I was, that I will be in a lot of pain the next day. I also know that I must keep my muscles warm and to raise my legs higher that my heart in order to avoid cramps. I accepted those measures to be helpful but promptly threw them out of the window. I was too tired to buy medicine, too lazy to prepare my bed for the raises, too stifled not to use the AC.  

I woke up to pain like I have never experienced before, and got reacquainted with muscles I've forgotten I had. My whole body, from my neck to the soles of my feet, was sore. Every muscle was resonating different intensities of hurt; sinews singing discomfort with every move. It was like an orchestra of ailments afflicting my body with every move. I loved it; I never felt so alive and aware of my body.  

I tried to assume normalcy even through the pain but my body wont hear of it. I couldn't move without experiencing pins and needles running through by body; my usual stride therefore, was out of the question. I was moving at a third of my usual speeds, and I was furious about it. Coming from someone who sprints from one area of the office to another because it's boring to just walk, being hindered like such was a nightmare. The slow speed, the inability to quicken one's pace - both of which I detest in other people - I am now suffering.  

The physical pain, however, did not deter me from going to Shangri-la to watch the Cine Europa offerings. Thanks to Friday being declared as holiday, I was able to spend the whole day watching movies. Never mind that I was painfully aware of each of the sixty nine steps from my room to the ground floor, and almost the same number of steps leading to the Magallanes terminal; I had to reach Shang in time for the movies.

And it was like a trip to Europe as I queued first for Bulgaria, then the Czech Republic, then Denmark. And never mind that in my weakened condition, I was travelling alone. I only got to meet up with fellow travelers as we closed the day with a trip to Finland.  

There are 22 films to be enjoyed this season of Cine Europa, and I plan to make the most of it.  

But Tuesday is again at hand and I may want to subject myself to more physical torment.  

We'll see.


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