<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Tue, 07 Apr 2026 20:19:10 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>random</category><category>books</category><category>reading</category><category>Baguio City</category><category>Roger Federer</category><category>movies</category><category>the exchange</category><category>tennis</category><category>my pursuit of happiness</category><category>random thoughts</category><category>music</category><category>rako</category><category>blogging</category><category>Rafael Nadal</category><category>neil gaiman</category><category>personal</category><category>TV</category><category>birthday</category><category>book review</category><category>book reviews</category><category>i&#39;m back</category><category>2010</category><category>Sunday Currently</category><category>blog action day</category><category>christopher moore</category><category>environment</category><category>eva green</category><category>global warming</category><category>haruki murakami</category><category>photos</category><category>poetry</category><category>terry pratchett</category><category>travel</category><category>writing</category><category>Andy Murray</category><category>Baguio Athletic Bowl</category><category>Guillermo Canas</category><category>Philippines current</category><category>Save Baguio Athletic Bowl</category><category>Session Road</category><category>Supernatural</category><category>Yolanda</category><category>book giveaway</category><category>bookstores</category><category>career</category><category>comments</category><category>concrete pine tree</category><category>current news</category><category>family</category><category>fantasy</category><category>free the morong 43</category><category>garbage problem</category><category>glee</category><category>health</category><category>school</category><category>siblings</category><category>sick</category><category>siddathornton</category><category>top ten emerging influential bloggers of 2007</category><category>zen</category><category>#ReliefPH</category><category>182 trees</category><category>1Q84</category><category>2011</category><category>2011 reads</category><category>2013</category><category>25-year lease to Koreans</category><category>300 movie</category><category>32nd Manila International Book Fair</category><category>A Dirty Job</category><category>Al Gore</category><category>Alanis Morissette</category><category>Andy Roddick</category><category>Australian Open 2010</category><category>Baguio City Post Office</category><category>Bedouin Soundclash</category><category>Bleach</category><category>Bobby Fischer</category><category>Brutal Hearts</category><category>Captain America</category><category>Casualties of Cool</category><category>Chuck Lorre</category><category>Coeur de Pirate</category><category>DOH condom-distribution program</category><category>December 30</category><category>Dumbledore</category><category>E.L. 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domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Lev Grossman</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Magicians Trilogy</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">reading</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">The Magician King</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">The Magician&#39;s Land</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">The Magicians</category><title>What we were - Quentin Coldwater and I</title><description>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0NPpY5D9RUFD9aJH0KMvIoGUfQ9xJ8W8ngaMi-LouBS4pK8D-t7dvJH7iswCyo49_mW7E4Jx5q1Ojrwk469GW8j0MdQRBxcS6iH0VDtfqCOlawLVrkDsFPRI_e0vYpCTb8XMFYxN4amo/s1600/MagicianKing_AF.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;237&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0NPpY5D9RUFD9aJH0KMvIoGUfQ9xJ8W8ngaMi-LouBS4pK8D-t7dvJH7iswCyo49_mW7E4Jx5q1Ojrwk469GW8j0MdQRBxcS6iH0VDtfqCOlawLVrkDsFPRI_e0vYpCTb8XMFYxN4amo/s1600/MagicianKing_AF.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Maybe I should start with the easy things first.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The other night I finished &lt;i&gt;The Magician’s Land&lt;/i&gt;, Lev Grossman’s concluding volume to his Magicians Trilogy. Before that, I blasted through &lt;i&gt;The Magician King&lt;/i&gt;, reading even during a challenging fieldtrip and an emotional, impromptu visit home. I’d been very vocal about how I felt about the first book, &lt;i&gt;The Magicians&lt;/i&gt;, and its lead protagonist Quentin Coldwater. By all accounts, I was perfectly fine abandoning the series. Then L and I came across it on a list of the best fantasy novels of all time. It wasn&#39;t so much that it was mentioned or even that it was quite near the top, but the reviewer said that people who gave up after the first book were missing out. Had I been wrong? Intrigued, I went about quietly acquiring the sequels.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was impressed with the writing in &lt;i&gt;The Magician King&lt;/i&gt;. I remembered vaguely the same about &lt;i&gt;The Magicians&lt;/i&gt;, but the feeling had been eclipsed by how much I loathed Quentin. While reading &lt;i&gt;The Magician King&lt;/i&gt;, I began to worry that maybe I hated Quentin because I identified with him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is where it gets sticky.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I won’t get into what Grossman was trying to do with fantasy tropes, his attempt to write &quot;Harry Potter for adults.&quot; Many have written about it at length and more eloquently than I could ever do. Instead, I want to talk about how Grossman&#39;s development of Quentin and friends made me reflect on my own growth. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, what to make of Quentin? In &lt;i&gt;The Magicians&lt;/i&gt;, he comes off as an entitled, whiny douche who only ever thinks about himself. He has the gift of magic but cannot appreciate it, even having room to brood. Young Quentin wants to be a hero because that’s how it is in the stories but he is not noble or brave, makes stupid choices, and hurts the people he loves. However, by the end of this first book, Quentin has lost much and learned difficult truths. In &lt;i&gt;The Magician King&lt;/i&gt;, Quentin is finally a king of the magical land of Fillory and the bastard is &lt;i&gt;bored&lt;/i&gt;. He is living the life but cannot shake the feeling that there should be something more. He, along with Julia, goes on a quest and we catch a glimpse of the man he could be. He still doubts himself, but has grown a pair. In &lt;i&gt;The Magician’s Land&lt;/i&gt;, Quentin has finally come into his own. He is far from perfect but he knows himself and finds purpose. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had always known I wanted to Make a Difference. I and many of my generation were led to believe that we are unique, talented individuals capable of such. At school, my peers and I were herded into groups distinguished for academic excellence, leadership or whatever above-average competence. So it was, believing in my own power (sometimes known as &quot;feeling infinite&quot;), that I stepped out, eyes bright, heart aflame, into the real world. But very much like Quentin and his friends, I quickly found out that reality did not often conform to our fantasies. I wanted to change the world but Life was not sticking to the plan. It had the audacity to be &lt;i&gt;unfair&lt;/i&gt;. I’d overthink myself into inaction or wallow needlessly about what I thought, at the time, were grave issues. I traveled but almost always missed the point. I would not stay very long in jobs – a year at most – because I would get an itch that would eventually grow into a rash of dissatisfaction. I couldn’t be happy wherever I lived: my hometown Baguio was claustrophobic while Metro Manila was inhospitable. My mind would yearn for greater heights, but I would feel empty when I got there. I could not be satisfied. I would not be still. Quentin was a mirror and I wanted to punch him, defensive mode on.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;220&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtwQHOVs5Ra-v_-KdSZ_1fW_LrFN-QJDgLoY3sAxioA1FvscesRg17nXY9AoJmahEdyXbXydad6odWJKWvtJnlyYiPBGNI3vJgW6MtAA454Rg1nuhqj1DMDhldtnLtO8GhwjOD81Dy5yw/s1600/Magicland.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
In &lt;i&gt;The Magician’s Land&lt;/i&gt;, Quentin and his student Plum have a conversation about why we have magic:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
“What do you think magic is for? [...] I used to think about this a lot,” Quentin said. “I mean, it’s not obvious like it is in books. It’s trickier. In books there’s always somebody standing by ready to say hey, the world’s in danger, evil’s on the rise, but if you’re really quick and take this ring and put it in that volcano over there everything will be fine&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“But in real life that guy never turns up. He’s never there. He’s busy handing out advice in the next universe over. In our world no one ever knows what to do, and everyone’s just as clueless and full of crap as everyone else, and you have to figure it all out by yourself. And even after you’ve figured it out and done it, you’ll never know whether you were right or wrong. You’ll never know if you put the ring in the right volcano, or if things might have gone better if you hadn’t. There’s no answers in the back of the book.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I still have no idea what magic is for. Maybe you just have to decide for yourself. But you definitely have to decide. It’s not for sitting on my ass, which I know because I’ve tried that. Am I making any sense?”&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.npr.org/2014/08/09/338942353/lev-grossman-a-magician-grows-up&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Lev Grossman’s books are about bright people who don’t have a Voldemort to fight: “It’s a struggle to figure out what magic is for, when it’s not obvious.”&lt;/a&gt; I remember walking home from a party once, semi-drunk, talking with a friend about how our generation doesn&#39;t have a Big Bad the way our parents’ had martial law. Ours is a faceless, nameless enemy - a slow, chronic affliction rather than an acute attack. Where do we land our punches? To whom do we direct our barbs?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We are always privy to Quentin&#39;s self-doubt in the first two books, but this is not the case in the third. Here, Quentin just does things sans the paralyzing internal monologue. The transformation occurs gradually over a 10-year timeline of hits and, sometimes very tragic, misses. Quentin stops being that douche teenager and becomes someone we genuinely like. We are rewarded for sticking it out with him when Grossman shows us how the others actually see him. Here is High King Eliot wishing he could confide in his best friend Quentin. There is the student Plum wanting to do magic like her experienced, able teacher Quentin. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Magicians Trilogy is filled with many wonders, both pleasurable and demented. Many of the moments of real joy have to do with the magic and spells (Quentin and Plum travel to Antarctica) but some of them are actually when the characters are putting in honest labor to achieve something (Julia studying in Murs, Quentin and his research). And the language is stellar. In &lt;i&gt;The Magician King&lt;/i&gt;, Quentin’s chapters seem tame and structured in contrast to Julia’s unruly and defiant ones. The disparity is intentional - we are thrust from Quentin&#39;s ordered life into Julia&#39;s experiences where she has to claw her way, ghetto style, through a rough magical education.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I didn&#39;t quite struggle so much as flounder around in my 20s. I understood that I needed to do something, but it wasn&#39;t always clear to me what that was. Not knowing made me thrash around in my head, indulging my demons. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In a year, I will be Quentin&#39;s age in &lt;i&gt;The Magician&#39;s Land&lt;/i&gt;. But unlike the mature, tempered magician, I don’t think I’ve quite arrived. I like to think I&#39;ve become better at just being, that I&#39;ve shed some of that compulsive dissatisfaction. But I still suffer bouts of crippling insecurity – a hazard of working in  the academe? I still do things because it’s what&#39;s expected of me, though I&#39;ve been trying to be better at being honest with other people and myself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some have called the Magicians Trilogy derivative, pilfering elements of this and that beloved fantasy classic under the guise of deconstruction. Whether these literary calisthenics have succeeded or not is beside the point. Grossman has written a riveting study about personal growth, about being a hero in an age where we don&#39;t really know what that means anymore. Even now, his books are still burning a hole in my head. I think about who Quentin discovered himself to be in the end and wonder when I too will finally come into my best self. </description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2015/03/what-we-were-quentin-coldwater-and-i.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0NPpY5D9RUFD9aJH0KMvIoGUfQ9xJ8W8ngaMi-LouBS4pK8D-t7dvJH7iswCyo49_mW7E4Jx5q1Ojrwk469GW8j0MdQRBxcS6iH0VDtfqCOlawLVrkDsFPRI_e0vYpCTb8XMFYxN4amo/s72-c/MagicianKing_AF.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-727059804089063724</guid><pubDate>Sun, 07 Dec 2014 12:21:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-12-07T22:47:45.951+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">random</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Sunday Currently</category><title>The Sunday Currently #3</title><description>I am currently...&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;&quot;&gt;READING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; this and that. I&#39;m working on Roland Barthes&#39; &lt;i&gt;Camera Lucida&lt;/i&gt; because I recently read &lt;i&gt;Mourning Diary&lt;/i&gt; (which I&#39;d obsessively tracked after a reading of Joan Didion&#39;s &lt;i&gt;The Year of Magical Thinking&lt;/i&gt;). I&#39;m sampling &lt;i&gt;Levels of Life&lt;/i&gt; by Julian Barnes because I just finished &lt;i&gt;The Sense of an Ending&lt;/i&gt;. I&#39;d attempted the latter early this year but had fallen into that post-holiday slump and gave up. I picked it up again following an enthusiastic recommendation from a young friend. It turned out to be quite the ruminative experience.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgq_OlkMjC2volbUG_JPhjD2oEGu1tVaEDNbgHHpKPrvjEAiNxhIoQd9MRyG2NQA10rpuP0G2_IJL8KtboqYRni6wtTRj9kn8Cf8UMiXdnzq4XkEn7K5eLdaTnWBIUuA1poabZxcLHWT0/s1600/2014-12-06+09.04.23.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgq_OlkMjC2volbUG_JPhjD2oEGu1tVaEDNbgHHpKPrvjEAiNxhIoQd9MRyG2NQA10rpuP0G2_IJL8KtboqYRni6wtTRj9kn8Cf8UMiXdnzq4XkEn7K5eLdaTnWBIUuA1poabZxcLHWT0/s1600/2014-12-06+09.04.23.jpg&quot; height=&quot;335&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;&quot;&gt;LISTENING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to somebody&#39;s door chimes tinkling in the wind. There&#39;s a reason it&#39;s called The Calm Before the Storm. It&#39;s unnaturally quiet and our primal senses are tingling. We are unnerved because we sense the menace beneath the stillness. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;&quot;&gt;WATCHING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;i&gt;How to Get Away with Murder&lt;/i&gt;. I just did catch-upsies this afternoon. HOARY SHIT. I&#39;m loving &lt;i&gt;The Flash&lt;/i&gt; (Barry is golden; Iris has to go) but during the crossovers this week, I found myself on Ollie&#39;s team. And, as always, &lt;i&gt;Supernatural&lt;/i&gt;. When I watch it these days, I imagine a seasoned veteran doing their thing, just going with what works. Which is pretty much what Sam and Dean are doing. I started watching this show in 2006 and have stayed loyal even through brunette Ruby and, ugh, the leviathans. It&#39;s been a few weeks, but Episode 200 was a nostalgic mo-fo, a love-letter to the fans. It really got me in the soft spots. In response, I watched the pilot and a few other favorites to get some real reminiscing on. Behold, &quot;A Single Man Tear&quot;!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&quot;&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;315&quot; src=&quot;//www.youtube.com/embed/9r0tECFVyvU&quot; width=&quot;560&quot;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;&quot;&gt;WRITING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; stuff for work. What of the thesis, you say? It&#39;s nearly there. After all the urgency the past few months, I&#39;ve puttered out a little. I suppose I could have pushed harder. That&#39;s all I&#39;ll say on the matter because I&#39;m pretending I don&#39;t have any crippling issues about not making it this semester. Something about trying not to feel like a failure so I can function.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;&quot;&gt;THINKING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; about doing some laundry.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SMELLING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; lemon juice and cilantro.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;&quot;&gt;LOVING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; my brother. I was home to visit him recently - we ate veggies and tacos, talked about our folks (ha-ha), watched &lt;i&gt;Guardians of the Galaxy&lt;/i&gt; on DVD, and basically had a smashing good time. Recent logistical arrangements have been challenging but he&#39;s just been taking it on the chin. I could learn something from him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HOPING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; everyone is safe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;&quot;&gt;WANTING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to finish school.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;&quot;&gt;WISHING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; my soul was a little lighter and brighter.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;WEARING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; a shirt with a bunch of cheeky owls printed on.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;&quot;&gt;FEELING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; like I could use a joke.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://siddathornton.blogspot.com/p/t-h-e-s-u-n-d-y-c-u-r-r-e-n-t-l-y.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Sunday Currently is a weekly series hosted by Lauren at siddathornton&lt;/a&gt;. Write your own post (because lists are therapeutic) and &lt;a href=&quot;http://siddathornton.blogspot.com/search/label/the%20sunday%20currently&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;link back at siddathornton&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;to keep the love flowing.&amp;nbsp;Have a fantastic week, wombats.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://siddathornton.blogspot.com/search/label/the%20sunday%20currently&quot; title=&quot;siddathornton&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;siddathornton&quot; src=&quot;http://i796.photobucket.com/albums/yy248/siddathornton/TSC_button-linescorrected.jpg&quot; style=&quot;border: medium none;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2014/12/the-sunday-currently-3.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgq_OlkMjC2volbUG_JPhjD2oEGu1tVaEDNbgHHpKPrvjEAiNxhIoQd9MRyG2NQA10rpuP0G2_IJL8KtboqYRni6wtTRj9kn8Cf8UMiXdnzq4XkEn7K5eLdaTnWBIUuA1poabZxcLHWT0/s72-c/2014-12-06+09.04.23.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-1857107319951966228</guid><pubDate>Sun, 01 Jun 2014 14:53:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-06-04T13:57:14.644+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Casualties of Cool</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">eva green</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Gabriel Garcia Marquez</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Jane Eyre</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">my pursuit of happiness</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Penny Dreadful</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">random</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">siddathornton</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Sunday Currently</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">The Drums</category><title>The Sunday Currently #2</title><description>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5lqrgiIlqWaIoJc82fHT2LLQnPyQcaCIEH7bkcSn98uugverGA_yGNj7NvTjAekb2Jr5rx1HrFHbARB8fIQ2w-a6ru7otpI8x24XIJJLOBdvj9EWTonQTaymvSynm_FNEJYXTEwzlywM/s1600/no.+2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5lqrgiIlqWaIoJc82fHT2LLQnPyQcaCIEH7bkcSn98uugverGA_yGNj7NvTjAekb2Jr5rx1HrFHbARB8fIQ2w-a6ru7otpI8x24XIJJLOBdvj9EWTonQTaymvSynm_FNEJYXTEwzlywM/s1600/no.+2.jpg&quot; height=&quot;344&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I am currently...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;READING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;One Hundred Years of Solitude&lt;/i&gt; by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I was telling my friend Joyce that Gabo&#39;s writing has been especially appealing while I&#39;ve been writing my thesis. It may be some left-over feelings from reading &lt;i&gt;Love in the Time of Cholera&lt;/i&gt;, which was such a pleasant surprise. For years, I&#39;d been under the impression that it was sad and I usually put off sad things. And then Gabo died. So I read it and found that it was funny and loving and epic (but not in an exhausting way). I&#39;ve also taken &lt;i&gt;Jane Eyre&lt;/i&gt; down from its place on my shelf because I keep being led back to it. So, this and that while I climb my mountain.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;LISTENING&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;i&gt;Casualties of Cool&lt;/i&gt; by Casualties of Cool. It&#39;s making me feel things. I&#39;ll get back to you when I figure out what they are. Also, some Pharrell Williams and Iggy Azalea. There&#39;s also been a lot of The Drums in my ears because Jonny Pierce at Wanderland 2014.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;WATCHING&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Showtime&#39;s &lt;i&gt;Penny Dreadful&lt;/i&gt;. I&#39;m compelled to watch anything featuring Eva Green even if she&#39;s just too powerful and unsettling a performer that, sometimes, I want to gouge out my eyes (Episode 2, I&#39;m looking at you). The show itself is breathtaking: gorgeous shots, wonderful actors, jaw-dropping reveals. Plus, all that sex and gore. You can&#39;t go wrong. I finished the first season of CW&#39;s &lt;i&gt;Reign&lt;/i&gt; a couple of weeks ago. I watched it mostly for Adelaide Kane whom I wished there was more of on &lt;i&gt;Teen Wolf&lt;/i&gt;. The background history is also very interesting, but that&#39;s out the window in this 16th century &lt;i&gt;Gossip Girl&lt;/i&gt;. There was one episode in which an instrumental version of &lt;i&gt;Royals&lt;/i&gt; by Lorde was playing during a ball. Yes, I know, it obviously needed to be done. Let us be comforted by their small nods to actual historical events (e.g. the wooden splinter fatally lodged in King Henry&#39;s eye).&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7rA3H6Qwdwnor0nW8elmhZE-9Aax8qg0qc2Hn5Z2Za4gsTnngDPFRsD62i5n9pOQ_OHX77dISQBjNR3kycNpGztPd8CXjHKzuRNUsLuatvPtpz3-Bie9s74RufUCERAedQYeFBZtbsw/s1600/penny-dreadful-poster-2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7rA3H6Qwdwnor0nW8elmhZE-9Aax8qg0qc2Hn5Z2Za4gsTnngDPFRsD62i5n9pOQ_OHX77dISQBjNR3kycNpGztPd8CXjHKzuRNUsLuatvPtpz3-Bie9s74RufUCERAedQYeFBZtbsw/s1600/penny-dreadful-poster-2.jpg&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; width=&quot;292&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;WRITING&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; my thesis. It occupies most of my time these days. Contrary to prevailing belief, I have a desired endpoint in mind. However, things aren&#39;t going as smoothly or as quickly as I want and/ or need. It was disconcerting to wake up this morning and realize it&#39;s already June when I originally imagined myself defending in May. I guess I&#39;m blogging now out of nowhere to try and calm down and reassure myself that I can write a decent sentence.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;THINKING&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; about my thesis. There&#39;s a corner of my brain permanently devoted to my unfinished manuscript.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;SMELLING&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; chocolate. I just obliterated a bar of hazelnut milk schokolade. I am reminded of the scene in &lt;i&gt;X-Men: First Class&lt;/i&gt; where Kevin Bacon&#39;s Sebastian Shaw offers some to the young Erik Lehnsherr before threatening to shoot his mother. (Hey, have you seen &lt;i&gt;Days of Future Past&lt;/i&gt;? More McFassy, I say. Also, was it really about Mystique? Or JLaw? Haha.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;WISHING&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I wasn&#39;t so distractible.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;WANTING&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to finish my thesis. To write faster. To take more photos. To save more. To read more.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;HOPING&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I get through June without buying a book. I&#39;m on a book-buying moratorium (again) this month to minimize expenses. It&#39;s evolved into a sort of bet with friends at work. If I cave, I have to buy them grilled burgers for lunch. If I manage to control myself for a month, they buy me, well, a book. I don&#39;t know how this is going to work, you guys. Instant Gratification is my middle name.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;LOVING&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; iOS photography apps. I recently rejoined Instagram, mostly to take pictures of books and Dog, but I&#39;ve been having a blast with camera and post-editing apps. I also inherited a sweet little Lumix so we&#39;ll see how that goes. These beautiful things have been soothing in this generally trying time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;WEARING&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; my headset. Trying to cultivate peace in my otherwise unstable headspace.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;NEEDING&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to get my shit together.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;FEELING&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; good about this week.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://siddathornton.blogspot.com/p/t-h-e-s-u-n-d-y-c-u-r-r-e-n-t-l-y.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Sunday Currently is a weekly series hosted by Lauren at siddathornton&lt;/a&gt;. Write your own post (because lists are therapeutic) and &lt;a href=&quot;http://siddathornton.blogspot.com/search/label/the%20sunday%20currently&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;link back at siddathornton&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;to keep the love flowing.&amp;nbsp;Have a fantastic week, wombats.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://siddathornton.blogspot.com/search/label/the%20sunday%20currently&quot; title=&quot;siddathornton&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;siddathornton&quot; src=&quot;http://i796.photobucket.com/albums/yy248/siddathornton/TSC_button-linescorrected.jpg&quot; style=&quot;border: medium none;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2014/06/the-sunday-currently-2.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5lqrgiIlqWaIoJc82fHT2LLQnPyQcaCIEH7bkcSn98uugverGA_yGNj7NvTjAekb2Jr5rx1HrFHbARB8fIQ2w-a6ru7otpI8x24XIJJLOBdvj9EWTonQTaymvSynm_FNEJYXTEwzlywM/s72-c/no.+2.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-3953546440560364293</guid><pubDate>Fri, 10 Jan 2014 02:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-01-10T10:27:01.334+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">2013</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">book review</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">books</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">reading</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">the exchange</category><title>My 2013 in reading</title><description>I spent a lot of 2013 working and trying to get my thesis off the ground. There were months when things got so tight, it was a wonder I got any reading done at all. I would read a chapter or two before falling asleep or immediately upon waking up; I would read on jeeps, in airplanes, or in line to pay the bills; basically during any stolen quiet moment. I turned in some serious reading while waiting at the airport. On a field trip to Bantayan Island in Cebu, I took a chunk off the tome that is &lt;i&gt;The Wise Man’s Fear&lt;/i&gt; by Patrick Rothfuss. Now, I associate travel to the island with certain chapters of that book.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This year, I stopped worrying about the number of books I could finish. I took on books that challenged me (in terms of both scope and scale) and was rewarded for it.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4AzF896RlPOwFvnkXDcwoJnOFm39HreDkeM8laOTvRv7E3zQ9bl6CVk0nh7E-Yf-1ExSf3GdgQdQUjaKLtMM4O6AqtLUIpWBtMotJUl3kaLnKBK1JbCgULtBKs6FbOOhR1crM8ILcCSc/s1600/2014+(1)1.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4AzF896RlPOwFvnkXDcwoJnOFm39HreDkeM8laOTvRv7E3zQ9bl6CVk0nh7E-Yf-1ExSf3GdgQdQUjaKLtMM4O6AqtLUIpWBtMotJUl3kaLnKBK1JbCgULtBKs6FbOOhR1crM8ILcCSc/s1600/2014+(1)1.jpg&quot; height=&quot;480&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://thebigbookexchange.wordpress.com/2014/01/08/kubis-2013-year-end-review/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Read the rest of my year-end review on &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Exchange&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, which has been resurrected over at Wordpress.&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2014/01/my-2013-in-reading.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4AzF896RlPOwFvnkXDcwoJnOFm39HreDkeM8laOTvRv7E3zQ9bl6CVk0nh7E-Yf-1ExSf3GdgQdQUjaKLtMM4O6AqtLUIpWBtMotJUl3kaLnKBK1JbCgULtBKs6FbOOhR1crM8ILcCSc/s72-c/2014+(1)1.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-2597332061033122350</guid><pubDate>Thu, 02 Jan 2014 04:47:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-02-14T17:37:44.302+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">reading</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">reading challenges 2014</category><title>Reading Goals 2014</title><description>Happy New Year, multiverse! In an attempt to bring some semblance of control over my life (*cough, thesis*), I&#39;ve decided to sign up for a couple of reading challenges this year.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqiRmOEVXLTiT3M-YBERR2tKWvUsLxA8mHXQjLwk5QTEyz7askLPJp2_rhn-H831etysdWB_DHM01H_FkCqs7GGTXmZ00YEvMDfX3ZhO3VyCNd6OtlW4C9NU3ruLcp0hHPoHR5KNmWqgM/s1600/Kubi+fiction.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqiRmOEVXLTiT3M-YBERR2tKWvUsLxA8mHXQjLwk5QTEyz7askLPJp2_rhn-H831etysdWB_DHM01H_FkCqs7GGTXmZ00YEvMDfX3ZhO3VyCNd6OtlW4C9NU3ruLcp0hHPoHR5KNmWqgM/s640/Kubi+fiction.png&quot; height=&quot;640&quot; width=&quot;396&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;A random photo of one of my shelves, which I organized last summer, also as an attempt to regain some control in the academic chaos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My reading habits aren&#39;t generally very stiff - I read whatever I&#39;m in the mood for. But the motivation for this year&#39;s rigor is to keep my obsessive book hoarding (a major obstacle to a financial happy-ever-after) in check, and to put a dent in the ridiculous to-read pile (I&#39;m slightly ashamed of how many books I amassed last year).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://evie-bookish.blogspot.com/2013/10/2014-tbr-pile-reading-challenge-sign-ups.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://evie-bookish.blogspot.com/2013/10/2014-tbr-pile-reading-challenge-sign-ups.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;2014 TBR Pile Reading Challenge&lt;/b&gt; hosted by Bookish&lt;/a&gt; is the umbrella challenge for which I shall strive to focus my energy on books acquired in 2013 or earlier. &lt;a href=&quot;http://thebigbookexchange.wordpress.com/kubi-2014-tbr-reading-challenge/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;I&#39;ve committed to reading 31-40 books (36 at the moment)&lt;/a&gt;. A few of the titles may change depending on where my reading takes me, but I&#39;ll make sure to only replace them with books that have similarly been gathering dust on my shelves. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The books in the TBR Challenge overlap with &lt;a href=&quot;http://thebigbookexchange.wordpress.com/kubi-2014-alphabet-soup-reading-challenge/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;most of my books for the &lt;b&gt;2014 Alphabet Soup Reading Challenge&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, which is hosted over at &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.escapewithdollycas.com/challenges-2/2014-alphabet-soup-reading-challenge/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Escape with Dollycas&lt;/a&gt;; and those for the &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.literaryescapism.com/new-author-challenge/new-author-challenge-2014&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;New Author Challenge&lt;/b&gt; at Literary Escapism&lt;/a&gt;, in which I&#39;ll be trying for 15 new authors.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On Goodreads (&lt;a href=&quot;https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/6463875-kubi&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;add me up!&lt;/a&gt;), I&#39;ve challenged myself to the standard 52 (one book for each week of the year), so the 35 or so titles covered in my three reading challenges should fit in nicely. It also leaves me some room to read outside of my TBR pile. Guys, come on. We all know I&#39;ll eventually find my way to a bookstore. Baby steps.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you&#39;re doing your own reading challenges this year, let me know in Comments!</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2014/01/reading-goals-2014.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqiRmOEVXLTiT3M-YBERR2tKWvUsLxA8mHXQjLwk5QTEyz7askLPJp2_rhn-H831etysdWB_DHM01H_FkCqs7GGTXmZ00YEvMDfX3ZhO3VyCNd6OtlW4C9NU3ruLcp0hHPoHR5KNmWqgM/s72-c/Kubi+fiction.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-4643304792414946034</guid><pubDate>Sun, 24 Nov 2013 15:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-12-04T14:12:59.368+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">my pursuit of happiness</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">random</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">siddathornton</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Sunday Currently</category><title>The Sunday Currently #1</title><description>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKB8noF1NXVlTvjPZjmRgWKv9WEHjotuCMO8jAnVsiwFfTDtFJvcNQPftt_grTBiO1ZFTrYVoA0TyzFcQlWgqicOGMsf5hzCvfuvInp9KNJGFStjz0yDCpfOhU1MklTT3EtVdlU-kZuwk/s1600/sunday+currently+01.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;385&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKB8noF1NXVlTvjPZjmRgWKv9WEHjotuCMO8jAnVsiwFfTDtFJvcNQPftt_grTBiO1ZFTrYVoA0TyzFcQlWgqicOGMsf5hzCvfuvInp9KNJGFStjz0yDCpfOhU1MklTT3EtVdlU-kZuwk/s640/sunday+currently+01.png&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I am currently...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;READING&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay&lt;/i&gt; by Michael Chabon. I finished &lt;i&gt;The Goldfinch&lt;/i&gt; by Donna Tartt last night and, I don&#39;t know, I&#39;m still deciding what I think about it. The prose was so pure, like clean stream water slipping through my fingers. I enjoyed the ruminations about art and fate, the loving characterization, those foggy tripped out scenes. But later, I became baffled and then unmoved by Theo Decker. My feelings for the main character undermined what the book was trying to tell me. ANYWAY. Finishing &lt;i&gt;The Goldfinch&lt;/i&gt; has somehow restored my confidence to tackle more challenging novels, so&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Kavalier and Clay&lt;/i&gt;. I&#39;m also dipping into &lt;i&gt;Drown&lt;/i&gt;, the only book of Junot Diaz&#39;s I haven&#39;t yet read. I recently acquired a paperback of &lt;i&gt;Fangirl&lt;/i&gt; by Rainbow Rowell so I&#39;ve also been re-reading favorite parts when the blues catch hold of me (which has been often in the past few days).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;LISTENING&lt;/b&gt; to mostly old playlists, although &lt;i&gt;Royals&lt;/i&gt; by Lorde has been stuck in my head for days now. Lem and I are constantly singing &quot;You can call me queen bee&quot; at each other. Curse that catchy song.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;WATCHING&lt;/b&gt; The Day of the Doctor. (I KNOW!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;WRITING&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;my thesis. (Sigh. I know.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;THINKING&lt;/b&gt; about the scientist as communicator.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;SMELLING&lt;/b&gt; freshly laundered socks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9; font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt; &lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;WEARING&lt;/b&gt; cardigans. I&#39;m totally digging the cold mornings in Quezon City. They feel like a prelude for when I&#39;m happily back in the mountains, in harsher, more familiar, temperatures.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;WANTING&lt;/b&gt; to run more. Last Monday, I attempted to revive my running, which was all but forgotten during the slog that was September and October. I took it easy, knowing my body has once again become used to a stationary way of life. There was more walking than running, but it felt good to be outdoors and upright. After all the places I&#39;d been and everything I&#39;d done in the last two months, the neighborhood still looks pretty much the same and that is comforting.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;NEEDING&lt;/b&gt; to be less morose about things.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #d9d2e9;&quot;&gt;FEELING&lt;/b&gt; that I&#39;m between and betwixt.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://siddathornton.blogspot.com/p/t-h-e-s-u-n-d-y-c-u-r-r-e-n-t-l-y.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Sunday Currently is a weekly series hosted by Lauren at siddathornton&lt;/a&gt;. Write your own post (because lists are therapeutic) and &lt;a href=&quot;http://siddathornton.blogspot.com/2013/11/the-sunday-currently-volume-62.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;link back at siddathornton&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;to keep the love flowing.&amp;nbsp;Have a fantastic week, wombats.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://siddathornton.blogspot.com/search/label/the%20sunday%20currently&quot; title=&quot;siddathornton&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;siddathornton&quot; src=&quot;http://i796.photobucket.com/albums/yy248/siddathornton/TSC_button-linescorrected.jpg&quot; style=&quot;border: none;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2013/11/sunday-currently-1.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKB8noF1NXVlTvjPZjmRgWKv9WEHjotuCMO8jAnVsiwFfTDtFJvcNQPftt_grTBiO1ZFTrYVoA0TyzFcQlWgqicOGMsf5hzCvfuvInp9KNJGFStjz0yDCpfOhU1MklTT3EtVdlU-kZuwk/s72-c/sunday+currently+01.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-5230126548810838353</guid><pubDate>Tue, 19 Nov 2013 17:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-11-22T18:12:45.364+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">commuting</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">commuting to Villamor Airbase</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">public transportation</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Quezon City to Villamor Airbase</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">relief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Villamor Airbase</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">volunteer</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Yolanda</category><title>Getting to Villamor Airbase (for the commuting volunteer)</title><description>&lt;b&gt;A commuter&#39;s guide for dummies (&lt;strike&gt;me&lt;/strike&gt;), Quezon City to Villamor Airbase edition&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m a Baguio girl whose rather narrow home range in Metro Manila is Quezon City; everywhere else requires a map. My knowledge of Pasay City is more or less that it contains NAIA, and I&#39;ve gotten there mostly by taxi or hired van that I didn&#39;t have to pay for myself, hehe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://www.facebook.com/OperationSalubongVillamor&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;I&#39;ve seen numerous posts about the need for Yolanda relief volunteers at the Villamor Airbase&lt;/a&gt;, but not too many about how to get there.&amp;nbsp;A Google search yields a couple of forums with cryptic instructions about riding anything from Magallanes labeled FTI (apparently, Food Terminal Incorporated) and getting off at the Villamor interchange. They didn&#39;t say where to find these mysterious vehicles or where to go exactly once arriving at the Villamor interchange. It is any lost soul&#39;s guess.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So! Since taking a cab from Quezon City to Pasay would cost you your left kidney and wouldn&#39;t be as eventful anyway, here is a not-so-cryptic guide for public transport to get you to the relief stations inside Villamor Airbase:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Take the MRT 3 southbound and get off at the Magallanes Station (Fare is PHP15 if coming from North Ave). Cross EDSA to Alphaland Southgate Mall. From the mall, walk south towards Chino Roces Ave. You can also pass through the mall, which has an exit to Chino Roces (it&#39;s the one with the Booksale, haha). Keep walking southwards to the SLEX West Service Road. You will need to walk the length of an overpass (or underpass, if you look at it from the Skyway).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At the West Service Road, ride a public utility jeepney (PUJ) bound for FTI (cryptic instructions work after all!) and get off at the Villamor interchange (PHP8). You should be able to see the entrance to the Villamor Golf Course on your right. There is an unloading area, so don&#39;t panic when you come upon the ridiculous, pedestrian-unfriendly knot of flyovers and loops (&lt;strike&gt;because I totally did&lt;/strike&gt;). From SLEX, walk right following the roundabout and into Sales Road, which skirts the wall of the golf course. You should see a line of PUJs for Nichols Ikot a little past the gate.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Villamor Airbase Gate 1:&lt;/b&gt; If you cross the street from the Villamor Golf Course gate, walking about 400 meters down Sales Road will get you to Gate 1. From there, it is a half-kilometer straight shot down De Leon St. and through Gate 8. You will immediately see the Grandstand, &lt;a href=&quot;https://www.facebook.com/notes/operation-salubong-villamor-air-base/updated-1122-faq-sheet-for-operation-salubong-at-villamor-air-base/542481072510425&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;where hot meals, medical services, and counseling are being made available for evacuees from the Yolanda-affected areas&lt;/a&gt;. There are also shuttles from Gate 1 heading to the Repacking Station at the PAF Gym, where relief goods are being assembled into family packs.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Villamor Airbase&amp;nbsp;Gate 4:&lt;/b&gt; Riding a Nichols Ikot PUJ (PHP8) will take you to&amp;nbsp;Gate 4 at the corner of Sales Road and Andrews Ave (Resorts World on your right and NAIA Terminal 3 already visible on your left). Tell the driver you are getting off at Gate 4. Just inside the gate, to your right will be the Philippine Air Force Museum. You can take a shuttle there to either the Repacking Station (where it stops first) or the Grandstand (where it stops next).&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
If you know of an easier way to get to Villamor Airbase via public transportation, let me know in Comments. :)&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2013/11/commuting-to-villamor-airbase.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-2967540854077554910</guid><pubDate>Mon, 11 Nov 2013 02:47:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-12-04T22:21:46.072+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">#ReliefPH</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Tacloban</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Yolanda</category><title>Tacloban after PAMS and Yolanda</title><description>The other week, I was in Tacloban City for the &lt;a href=&quot;http://pams12.tumblr.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;12th National Symposium on Marine Science&lt;/a&gt;. For three days or so, over 400 coastal and marine specialists, exhilarated by fellowship and the prospect of sharing new science, laid claim to the city.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Many of us attending the symposium flew out on &lt;a href=&quot;http://globalnation.inquirer.net/88501/100-intl-domestic-flights-canceled-at-naia-wednesday-thursday-for-radar-repair&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;the day NAIA was dealing with its radar system upgrade&lt;/a&gt;. It was a novel kind of purgatory for someone like me whose most eventful airport debacle was being unable to find a quiet spot to read. While getting off the plane at the Daniel Z. Romualdez Airport nearly five hours after our original ETA, my boss/ friend Mags gestured at the darkness beyond the runway, pointing out that we were surrounded by water. We walked towards the terminal, marveling at this proximity to the ocean. This is what I thought of when I read the tweets about the &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.abs-cbnnews.com/video/nation/regions/11/09/13/tacloban-airport-suffers-extensive-damage&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Tacloban airport being all but wiped out.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The symposium was the first time I would present what I&#39;ve been working on for my Master&#39;s thesis. I also had additional duties as a member of the communications team. With everything going on, I didn&#39;t really see a lot of the city.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I remember the people.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The symposium was held at the UP Visayas Tacloban College, a small but lovely campus, much like my UP Baguio. Dr. Marge De La Cruz, the lionhearted dean, and her tenacious faculty made all 400 of us feel welcome. The secretariat, even when they had no idea who I was or why I always appeared to be hyperventilating, helped me out whenever they could. The college chorale group and their mad vocal skillz serenaded us during the first symposium dinner, their rendition of an Imelda Papin classic an instant crowd favorite.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.rappler.com/nation/43311-diary-tacloban-death-anarchy&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;New images from Tacloban show that much of the campus has been destroyed.&lt;/a&gt; I bear the news with sorrow and disbelief, and this tugging helplessness in the face of all things being transient.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21_PJYD2Aw-4iaYW8e6TUVjPW8K8qbvM38L1zRWAssQsKLBC3gmX3X4NfOeZM2QXM2bxod4UhLw4hOXq_RZ9zc6_X1J0i1uQMyHOpGrthevGdp0i_wY3I3VhjzGH8rfqshD1m44i20MY/s1600/typhoon-yolanda-tacloban-rupert-rappler-20131109-016.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21_PJYD2Aw-4iaYW8e6TUVjPW8K8qbvM38L1zRWAssQsKLBC3gmX3X4NfOeZM2QXM2bxod4UhLw4hOXq_RZ9zc6_X1J0i1uQMyHOpGrthevGdp0i_wY3I3VhjzGH8rfqshD1m44i20MY/s1600/typhoon-yolanda-tacloban-rupert-rappler-20131109-016.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;Photo from Rappler/ Rupert Ambil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The night we arrived, Mags and I with biodiversity conservation warrior queen Nanay and a research assistant Audrey ended up at the Italian restaurant Guiseppe&#39;s for a late dinner. I had the pumpkin soup and the ravioli ragu. Our waiter was a character, a young man made memorable by his affable (and slightly subversive) cheekiness. At the end of the meal, he surprised us with complimentary shots of amaretto.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The night before my very early flight back to Manila, I worried about getting to the airport at 4AM. But the girls working the front desk at Hotel Consuelo arranged a ride for me, no problem. The driver of said ride, upon learning that I didn&#39;t have change for fare, stopped at different gas stations (at that ungodly hour) until we found an attendant who could trade me smaller bills. When we reached the airport, the driver gave me his name (Victor) and number, and told me to call if I needed a taxi service in Tacloban again. I thanked him and promised I&#39;d recommend him to other graduate students who&#39;d often return to the city for fieldwork.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;I think about these good people now in the midst of all that suffering and devastation, and hope they are okay.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Many of the people I work with have families in Visayas and Mindanao. It&#39;s extremely frustrating not being able to do much to comfort these friends who are sick with fear and worry. The right words escape me, but my thoughts and prayers are with them and their loved ones. And&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;in my heart of hearts, I&#39;m thankful that my own family is safe, far away in the mountains.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://www.facebook.com/notes/ligaya-solera-saberon/youve-made-a-difference/10151973761561422&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The intrepid Solera sisters&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://www.facebook.com/notes/ligaya-solera-saberon/youve-made-a-difference/10151973761561422&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;from Cebu&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://www.facebook.com/notes/ligaya-solera-saberon/youve-made-a-difference/10151973761561422&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;, Leilani and Ligaya, initiated a small relief effort among their friends, and it has gone a long way.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;I&#39;m grateful to these girls and others like them for being strong for us, for opening up avenues for us to extend some measure of help. I&#39;m drawing light from these individuals, and trying to follow their example. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.rappler.com/move-ph/issues/disasters/43300-reliefph-victims-typhoon-yolanda-help&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Here, from Rappler, is a list of ways we can assist in relief operations.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2013/11/tacloban-after-pams-and-yolanda.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21_PJYD2Aw-4iaYW8e6TUVjPW8K8qbvM38L1zRWAssQsKLBC3gmX3X4NfOeZM2QXM2bxod4UhLw4hOXq_RZ9zc6_X1J0i1uQMyHOpGrthevGdp0i_wY3I3VhjzGH8rfqshD1m44i20MY/s72-c/typhoon-yolanda-tacloban-rupert-rappler-20131109-016.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-5843479406674472725</guid><pubDate>Sat, 06 Jul 2013 06:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-05-23T08:59:07.643+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">book review</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">books</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">neil gaiman</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">reading</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">The Ocean at the End of the Lane</category><title>Neil Gaiman makes us remember</title><description>The Internet hype machine almost ruined this for me. Like the rest of Neil Gaiman&#39;s legion of adoring fans, I waited for the release of &lt;i&gt;The Ocean at the End of the Lane&lt;/i&gt;. I tracked its progress, but tried my best to avoid reviews. Which was a stretch because, being a highly anticipated novel by a widely loved author, it was simply everywhere. When I finally got my copy, I began reading somewhat rebelliously, refusing to be taken in. The book itself is a slight thing, a three-hour engagement at most. But like that duck pond in the story, it is an ocean. I didn&#39;t know what was happening until I looked up and realized I was already waist-deep. The story found me, like seawater finding cracks in a stone wall, and it has been weathering my heart since.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;Here is my copy, which I acquired from good, old&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.twitter.com/_FullyBooked&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Fully Booked&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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In grade school, some of my friends and I would have lunch in a small wooded area behind the main building. We&#39;d fill the air with our voices and the sounds of our play. When the afternoon bell called us back to our learning, a heavy silence would fall over the woods. There were times I&#39;d find myself there alone, having ran back for some forgotten item or taken a shortcut to the Industrial Arts classroom. The sun would be high in the sky, the bright light casting flickering shadows of leaves on the red-brown soil. The woods felt alive but dormant, as if disturbing the quiet might stir something into waking. I would be a little scared, but curious and defiant, staring at strange, moving shadows longer than I should. The feeling of that place was real and dream-like, an overlap of worlds. And so it was that I read the &lt;i&gt;The Ocean at the End of the Lane&lt;/i&gt; under a heady haze of remembrance.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At its core,&lt;i&gt;The Ocean at the End of the Lane&lt;/i&gt; is an excellent horror story. The fear, cultivated and absolute, crept into everything. I was so terrified, I couldn&#39;t sleep without my back tight against the wall. The last book to affect me this way was &lt;i&gt;Coraline&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Evil Thing is cunning and amoral, latching on to people&#39;s basic tendencies for wickedness. I felt fiercely protective of the narrator as a boy although I should have had more faith in his resilience (I am generally blinded by the charms of little boys, an effect of watching my baby brother grow up). Mr. Gaiman has great respect for children: he is matter-of-fact about the existence of magic, but doesn&#39;t spare them the nightmare. He knows they can handle it better than the grown-ups.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This post took so long because, even if I badly wanted to talk about this book and how it made me feel, I didn&#39;t know how. I &lt;strike&gt;am&lt;/strike&gt; was a mess of thoughts and feelings, many of them unidentifiable and some too familiar to face directly. I began to think about long-ago and far-away with a sweet ache that, when fully embraced, could swallow me whole. Sometimes I feel old, which, at 27, is ridiculous. The Hempstock women are ancient, but never tired.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;The Ocean at the End of the Lane&lt;/i&gt; makes me want to write, and write in the best way possible. &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.denofgeek.com/books-comics/neil-gaiman/25898/neil-gaimans-the-ocean-at-the-end-of-the-lane-review&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;It &quot;was written for readers&lt;/a&gt;,&quot; but it is also for writers. Mr. Gaiman&#39;s prose is pointed and descriptive, not a single word without function. It is a crystal, boiled down from a balanced solution of talent, skills sharpened over years of practice, and instinct. He sets the example for &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikAb-NYkseI&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;the Good Art he encourages us to make&lt;/a&gt;. In doing so, he has also shared with us something very personal. So here I am, stumbling over my words, trying to say thank you.</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2013/07/neil-gaiman-makes-us-remember.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxhU4IEKB8ikM2AuK4hgSKUybGDECW6IOOQ3O6EMe_5k5mFFV3HqEAUVVkgFaQlHVuJvTL8wJP8Od_qwKC9cU3rN_RZhzYckO_mkrLyVLkTaUwUrqXsXOvzSFbFpki2x-DEf_4GOpYQg/s72-c/Ocean+Gaiman%5Ba%5D.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-8877324921492904678</guid><pubDate>Fri, 04 Jan 2013 17:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-02T18:30:24.993+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">book review</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">haruki murakami</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">personal</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">running</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">What I Talk About When I Talk About Running</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">writing</category><title>What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami</title><description>&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Q5TRTRx8MPJcecw6rBN0xDjGev3vRP3OMa76WJD4zd1F5DSbhAEMV786Q_0ZNZWiQYCtFjXZfgmzAhZqC5qnudqKka4jlRAjsvjAX0XvZyDRi0qIrI_uSWTTV43HSNqu_yPYuDCCfVU/s1600/running_murakami+cover.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Q5TRTRx8MPJcecw6rBN0xDjGev3vRP3OMa76WJD4zd1F5DSbhAEMV786Q_0ZNZWiQYCtFjXZfgmzAhZqC5qnudqKka4jlRAjsvjAX0XvZyDRi0qIrI_uSWTTV43HSNqu_yPYuDCCfVU/s400/running_murakami+cover.jpg&quot; width=&quot;261&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;Some time ago, Alain de Botton tweeted (yes, you may find
him on Twitter @alaindebotton) “Most of what makes a book ‘good’ is that we are reading it at
the right moment for us.” Such is the case now at the beginning of a new year and
I am adrift (as I often am).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;I took out Haruki Murakami’s memoir &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;What I Talk About When I Talk About Running&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;,
which I’ve had on my shelf for ages, because I’d been unable to concentrate and
was looking for something easy to read. I thought, given my recent enthusiasm
with the subject, I’d be able to stay focused. I struggled with the first
couple of pages, a problem I’d had with the book before, but got to this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;“I’m
the kind of person who likes to be by himself. To put a finer point on it: I’m
the type of person who &lt;/i&gt;doesn’t find it&lt;i&gt;
painful to be alone. I find spending an hour or two every day running alone,
not speaking to anyone, as well as four or five hours alone at my desk, to be
neither difficult nor boring. I’ve had this tendency ever since I was young,
when, given a choice, I much preferred reading books on my own or concentrating
on listening to music over being with someone else. I could always think of
things to do by myself.”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;My little brother and I were born thirteen years apart, so
for the greater part of my childhood, I was an only child. I found books, made up
songs and hung out with imaginary friends, basically spending a lot of time
inside my head. When Lem and I were still just friends, we had a label for when
I would vanish off the grid for days, not speaking to him: “cave mode.” That doesn’t
happen so much now we’re together, but he can tell when I want to be alone.
Now, as a novice at running (less than a novice, really), I’ve found that what I
enjoy most about it is the solitude.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;A very brief history: &lt;a href=&quot;http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2012/09/making-positivi-tea.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;In a yester-post, I recounted how I had been preparing myself to run again, the main objective being to lose weight.&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2012/10/things-i-love-thursday.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;I sort of hinted at my progress in my first TILT entry where I mentioned loving my running shoes.&lt;/a&gt; I’ve been engaged in my casual program for about three months now.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;Murakami writes “running suits [him].” I like to think it
suits me too. I know myself as an &lt;i&gt;inward&lt;/i&gt;
person, and running allows me to indulge this. He writes that “[he] runs to
acquire a void.” I repeatedly have to tell myself to stop thinking. Running
lets me think about everything and nothing at once.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;Murakami writes “Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”
As a beginner, I spend a lot of time in pain. My legs, I imagine, are still
getting used to all the physical labor. At any time during my runs, my
calves, thighs, feet or entire legs act out. They scream bloody murder. There are many occasions where, as Troy on &lt;i&gt;Community&lt;/i&gt; puts it,
my “whole brain is crying.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/2011/dec/08/behind-murakamis-mirror/?pagination=false&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;(Photo source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;Murakami writes “Patience is a must in this process, but I
guarantee the results will come.” Three months ago, doing some research, I’d
come across a blog on the benefits of running. The writer said that people who take
up running start preferring healthy sources of fuel over the usual heavy fare. The diet
eventually falls into place without too much bloodshed. Six
months ago, you’d have found me topping off a bag of pork rinds by myself, but now, I find it easier to stay away from junk food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;Murakami’s reflections in the book come nearly 25 years
after he first started running. The man has run at least one marathon a year since. But
for me, in this fledgling stage, nursing a small ember that could go out any
minute, I can’t even conceive successfully running a 5K. When he writes that he
probably knows pain better than anyone else, I believe him. What I feel on my
runs is child’s play. Running is ingrained in his life, whereas I&#39;m still
discovering what it means. It is a great divide, to be sure, but I feel like
his words belong to me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;I’ve only known Murakami through his strange/ beautiful
novels, but it is with this book that I feel closest to him as a writer. His
thoughts on writing novels being a physical act (“…a writer puts on an outfit
called narrative and thinks with his entire being; and for the novelist that
process requires putting into play all your physical reserve, often to the
point of overexertion”) remind me of long days finishing papers for graduate
school and offer a glimpse of the months I will be drafting my thesis. When I read about his epiphany to become a novelist professionally, I became mindful of the
decisions I must eventually make about my own pursuits.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;For a while, I didn’t mind what had been happening to my
body because I thought I was paying more attention to keeping my mind in shape.
I realize now how that thinking has to change. Murakami also wonders “…a person’s mind is controlled by his body, right? Or is it the
opposite – the way your mind works influences the structure of the body? Or do
the body and mind closely influence each other and act on each other?” At this
point, I’m inclined to agree with the third. I think even the Mentat have
something to say about that somewhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;Last year, I struggled with a hostile attitude and a lot of negativity. I’m beginning to think it had something to do with how badly
I’d been treating my body. Again, Murakami gives me the right words: “…an unhealthy soul
requires a healthy body.” My soul is inescapably unhealthy, but I’m hoping taking better care of myself will balance out that darkness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;Murakami writes of &quot;runner&#39;s blues&quot;: &quot;At the same time that I&#39;d lost something, something new had also taken root deep within me as a runner. And most likely this process of one thing exiting while another comes in had produced this unfamiliar runner&#39;s blues.&quot;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Even now, I&#39;m still in limbo and suspect that will be the case for the next couple of months. But I&#39;m not worried anymore. This drifty-ness is a necessary pain, like muscles being conditioned for new heights of exertion. Things don&#39;t look too bad from where I&#39;m standing. The right book can help you see that.&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2013/01/what-i-talk-about-when-i-talk-about.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Q5TRTRx8MPJcecw6rBN0xDjGev3vRP3OMa76WJD4zd1F5DSbhAEMV786Q_0ZNZWiQYCtFjXZfgmzAhZqC5qnudqKka4jlRAjsvjAX0XvZyDRi0qIrI_uSWTTV43HSNqu_yPYuDCCfVU/s72-c/running_murakami+cover.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-4669466152808951414</guid><pubDate>Thu, 03 Jan 2013 10:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-01-03T19:38:09.157+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">books</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">reading</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">the exchange</category><title>Reading: year-end review 2012</title><description>It&#39;s three days into the New Year, and I still haven&#39;t written a year-end post. I&#39;ll get to it eventually - it&#39;s just that some bits of 2012 are a little hard to digest.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On the other hand, some things are easier to write about than others. On The Exchange, we list our favorite reads for 2012. Here are mine:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggugzKoFYXJRnK9LLa8U_-6OE7uMo1z6kgaMmRhJ4cxiYExXLnV4qDfX2xSLYpA4lZEa0pu5M7XOLDuLlfdB8JTEaFFZPAsd7Bm3sqBxNwtqrlI2-KL-ktAlWCYZkK8WFcEzCkN76hyphenhyphennI/s1600/kubireads2012.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggugzKoFYXJRnK9LLa8U_-6OE7uMo1z6kgaMmRhJ4cxiYExXLnV4qDfX2xSLYpA4lZEa0pu5M7XOLDuLlfdB8JTEaFFZPAsd7Bm3sqBxNwtqrlI2-KL-ktAlWCYZkK8WFcEzCkN76hyphenhyphennI/s400/kubireads2012.png&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://the-exchange.tumblr.com/post/39472380166&quot;&gt;(Click here to get to the original post.)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These are some of Hanna&#39;s:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOT2AXdXqyTHLFTUhfjJP04uPhGj8X7fiWbuhZp-ehVvncN3g0OeqABTnBdeP2wsrPX4sq9iNOXVIOsVxQ_fn9qvmmiZw7ftWtaxPOD7XjbcqbUKIhhSQuR7kVp-vLSJusJQDkeMZJDHE/s1600/hanna1.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOT2AXdXqyTHLFTUhfjJP04uPhGj8X7fiWbuhZp-ehVvncN3g0OeqABTnBdeP2wsrPX4sq9iNOXVIOsVxQ_fn9qvmmiZw7ftWtaxPOD7XjbcqbUKIhhSQuR7kVp-vLSJusJQDkeMZJDHE/s400/hanna1.png&quot; width=&quot;316&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://the-exchange.tumblr.com/post/39480319052&quot;&gt;(You&#39;ll have to click here for the rest of her list.)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
And these are our shared favorites:&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQoBqE5yaSqA1JiQxTMzrIqxskbeGOjWX3li9WBs5CruvBuCJtJLcBv85MaLrhXOr4qYl_VXMgiUVJI73IJ8lfGuK-lAiJY5VfZwPvuNwylKpcD8SJUDZ8mUjISd2pPYPYUTb8vzRq8M0/s1600/exchange2012.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQoBqE5yaSqA1JiQxTMzrIqxskbeGOjWX3li9WBs5CruvBuCJtJLcBv85MaLrhXOr4qYl_VXMgiUVJI73IJ8lfGuK-lAiJY5VfZwPvuNwylKpcD8SJUDZ8mUjISd2pPYPYUTb8vzRq8M0/s400/exchange2012.png&quot; width=&quot;265&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://the-exchange.tumblr.com/post/39536063394&quot;&gt;(And you know what to do.)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Another year done. But, of course, the reading never ends.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later.</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2013/01/reading-year-end-review-2012.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggugzKoFYXJRnK9LLa8U_-6OE7uMo1z6kgaMmRhJ4cxiYExXLnV4qDfX2xSLYpA4lZEa0pu5M7XOLDuLlfdB8JTEaFFZPAsd7Bm3sqBxNwtqrlI2-KL-ktAlWCYZkK8WFcEzCkN76hyphenhyphennI/s72-c/kubireads2012.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-5773182884349987910</guid><pubDate>Thu, 18 Oct 2012 00:13:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-10-18T12:22:10.888+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Gala Darling</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">my pursuit of happiness</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">personal</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">random</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Things I Love Thursday</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">TILT</category><title>Things I Love Thursday</title><description>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGJO8LLs6v6wFVZnbDHMbDvKgOiWBHLhpiUBMWdebjGFmWcsyNw6YuXAlC6jTYlkW1IdIGiyr1NCz7YUSPinr7nOLJVKzgCliD6uRNGZxyScu1-DCSeucL5-HhIqfGDOe6sVrgqUfqaLg/s1600/TILT+17oct.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;484&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGJO8LLs6v6wFVZnbDHMbDvKgOiWBHLhpiUBMWdebjGFmWcsyNw6YuXAlC6jTYlkW1IdIGiyr1NCz7YUSPinr7nOLJVKzgCliD6uRNGZxyScu1-DCSeucL5-HhIqfGDOe6sVrgqUfqaLg/s640/TILT+17oct.png&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m back in the big city and have been feeling a bit grey. I&#39;ve been trying to finish a couple of papers for a class I kind of neglected last year. The writing is not going as smoothly as I imagined, so I&#39;ve been angry and frustrated in turns. &lt;a href=&quot;http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2011/01/year-so-far.html&quot;&gt;In the past, I&#39;ve gotten out of my hole by thinking about things that make me happy.&lt;/a&gt; I&#39;ve always wanted to do a &lt;i&gt;Things I Love Thursday*&lt;/i&gt; post, so I thought this is a good time to start.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;1. Green cargo shorts&lt;/b&gt; - The big city is sweltering. Right now, my favorite thing to wear is this comfortable pair of green cargo shorts I found while thrifting some months ago. I&#39;m practically living in them. And more pockets are always excellent.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;2. iPod skins&lt;/b&gt; - I ordered a couple of skins for my iPod from &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.etsy.com/shop/stickitskins&quot;&gt;stickitskins on Etsy&lt;/a&gt; and they arrived recently. They are pretty. My iPod is pretty. I feel pretty. (I love getting things in the mail.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.mendeley.com/&quot;&gt;3. Mendeley&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt; - Mendeley is a free reference manager, basically a cheap alternative to Microsoft EndNote. I&#39;ve been using it for about two years now, and it&#39;s been a godsend. It lets me organize my document files in my own arcane way, so it appeals to my obsessive compulsive tendencies. I can also tag my articles and search for specific content. There&#39;s a Web version too, so I can access shared folders wherever I am. It&#39;s perfect for when I&#39;m &lt;strike&gt;cramming&lt;/strike&gt; writing for work and/ or school. Nerd up, yo.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;4. Charcoal leather flipflops&lt;/b&gt; - These flipflops are reasonably priced and extremely comfortable. They make me want to forget shoes altogether. They&#39;re also good for my skin, which has been recently revealed to be...er...&lt;open air=&quot;air&quot; quotes=&quot;quotes&quot;&gt;hyper-sensitive&lt;close air=&quot;air&quot; quotes=&quot;quotes&quot;&gt;.&lt;/close&gt;&lt;/open&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;5. &lt;i&gt;The Elements of Style&lt;/i&gt; by Strunk/ White/ Kalman&lt;/b&gt; - The &quot;little book&quot; with Maira Kalman&#39;s illustrations is quite lovely. With her drawings, the elegant classic is pleasantly whimsical, but maintains its gloriously self-assured tone. (I wonder now if I bought it to resuscitate my ailing writing skills.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;6. &lt;i&gt;Looper&lt;/i&gt; (dir. Rian Johnson)&lt;/b&gt; - My friend Joyce and I saw &lt;i&gt;Looper&lt;/i&gt; when it opened yesterday. JGL puts in a strong performance. Bruce&#39;s badassery is indisputable. I think they could&#39;ve dropped the prosthetics (although JGL may be too beautiful for the intended grittiness). Science fiction was sound (hm?) - time travel is always a good crowd-pleaser.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;7. My running shoes&lt;/b&gt; - They are like air.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
*&lt;a href=&quot;http://galadarling.com/tag/things-i-love-thursday/&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Things I Love Thursday&lt;/i&gt; is a project started by Gala Darling&lt;/a&gt; whose philosophy is to live in the present and focus on the positive things around us.</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2012/10/things-i-love-thursday.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGJO8LLs6v6wFVZnbDHMbDvKgOiWBHLhpiUBMWdebjGFmWcsyNw6YuXAlC6jTYlkW1IdIGiyr1NCz7YUSPinr7nOLJVKzgCliD6uRNGZxyScu1-DCSeucL5-HhIqfGDOe6sVrgqUfqaLg/s72-c/TILT+17oct.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-5462835929952766452</guid><pubDate>Mon, 10 Sep 2012 22:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-10-13T19:48:35.261+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">blogging</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">personal</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">random</category><title>Making positivi-tea.</title><description>You guys. Sometimes, I think about taking down Baguio Below because I barely write here anymore. It&#39;s been a good run, but perhaps it&#39;s time to move on. Nonetheless, it is early and deathly cold in the mountains, and these conditions make me introspective and compel me to inflict my thoughts on the universe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have been making a point to do good things for myself lately.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
First, I have been trying to eat better. I&#39;d been thinking about transforming my eating habits for a while, since I&#39;d been steadily gaining weight since I left college in 2006. Many people I haven&#39;t seen for a long time often use my weight gain as an icebreaker. One gets used to it, but sometimes I wish I owned a samurai and that laws regarding evisceration were more forgiving. I kid, I kid. Anyway, coming back, I have decided to eat better (not &lt;i&gt;less&lt;/i&gt;, as it were). So more vegetables and fruits, and less of the deliciously evil things. But not chocolate. I can&#39;t seem to get rid of chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Also, I lost my long hair and am now wearing a &#39;do that dates back to my senior year in high school. The change has been invigorating, I like to think I shed a lot of bad energy. There would be a picture, but I am bleary.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Another thing is that I have resolved to read more books that I borrow. Hanna and I regularly have an exchange, and I have a growing pile of just her books. Several of them have been with me for months now. I also have some of Nicole&#39;s, many of which have been with me for so long, they are practically mine. My friends have been very kind to loan me their books, so I shall read them. This will also allow me to talk to said friends about said books, and not be a disappointment when they ask how I liked them. (Movies are another story).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Finally, I have also decided to start running again. I&#39;ve been preparing for it (mostly, mentally), and I feel I have reached the point where I am ready for implementation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I should go make some tea now. Later.</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2012/09/making-positivi-tea.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-1587552751270079001</guid><pubDate>Sat, 14 Jul 2012 17:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-12-04T22:36:31.998+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Andy Murray</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Roger Federer</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">tennis</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Wimbledon 2012</category><title>17</title><description>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSzB_xM6Eo_FGCJvBRH9FNY0yapKmCJObL6jIOZ3YVeyhe7-axnnkwB3S7H_wI6ON3oQp3QfTtqzvVwaJDwLTeMs8242vmbx6wB7DSfVPnM-wJdPGcHeU3j9tmWRegxqpnLrm5gRaBSI/s1600/b_14_federer_148_aeltc_m_hangst.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;425&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSzB_xM6Eo_FGCJvBRH9FNY0yapKmCJObL6jIOZ3YVeyhe7-axnnkwB3S7H_wI6ON3oQp3QfTtqzvVwaJDwLTeMs8242vmbx6wB7DSfVPnM-wJdPGcHeU3j9tmWRegxqpnLrm5gRaBSI/s640/b_14_federer_148_aeltc_m_hangst.jpg&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Roger Federer (SUI) def. Andy Murray (GBR) 4-6, 7-5, 6-3, 6-4 (&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.wimbledon.com/en_GB/interactive/galleries/2012-07-08/201207081341762032722.html&quot;&gt;Photo source&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s been a week since Roger Federer won his 7th Wimbledon title.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On the night of the Final, I was nervous. It had been two years since Federer had won a major, and if he was going to win another, it was likely to happen on his favorite surface. But Andy Murray, his opponent, had a winning head-to-head record against him. He was also the home favorite, the British eager to end an eight-decade drought.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The first set was harrowing, and it certainly appeared that the powers-that-be were giving Murray the nod. But Federer held on for the second, and things evened out. Then 1-1 on serve in the third, Federer leading 40-love, play was suspended due to rain. The match stalled for nearly 30 minutes while officials closed the roof over Centre Court. When play resumed, it was a different Federer that stepped out unto the grass. He moved better and faster, made fewer errors, and kept finding the corners and lines. The crack of the ball connecting with his racquet sounded, somehow, more intent.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I haven&#39;t written here in a long time, but I felt I had to for this, because a lot of what this blog was about for a long time was Roger Federer. And this Wimbledon was particularly special. There are the obvious reasons, of course: this tournament is his 17th Grand Slam (he holds the record for most won in the Open Era); it is his 7th win at sw19 (he is now level with Pete Sampras); and he has regained his place as World No. 1 (which is almost like an afterthought).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then, there are the less obvious reasons.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There are younger, stronger players out there (grunting beasts terrified of approaching the net), and Roger Federer is getting older and slowing down. These other guys have discovered he can be beaten, resulting in some disappointing losses over the last couple of years. He no longer dominates the game the way he did five, or even four, years ago. Now, he&#39;s in it with the rest of them, in the melee. Federer has never been more exposed. He is playing as a mortal, without his superpowers, but is still able to win Grand Slams. The man&#39;s got style.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Also, he beat Novak Djokovic, arguably the best player in the world today, in the semi-final. That guy gets under my skin, but I&#39;ll try to be objective here. Or not. Federer beating that upstart was immensely satisfying.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Few things are more beautiful than Roger Federer at Wimbledon. His game is suited for grass, and this year, he looked especially nimble. The Final was a demonstration of precisely what it means to play on the surface. He engaged net play and used serve-and-volley to great effect. His serve was accurate, and his shots from the baseline were absolutely lethal. The elegant angled backhand for the break to 3-2 in the fourth is the kind of genius Federer fans live for. If this truly is the age of his decline but such sublime tennis is still possible, surely this is the stuff of legend.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have always felt that the events in my life have resembled the dips and swells in Roger Federer&#39;s own journey. It has been a challenging few years, but there have been moments of pure magic. And maybe we are seeing the end of his golden era...but what a magnificent end it is turning out to be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
********&lt;br /&gt;
P.S. I have nothing but affection for Andy Murray, and he will have his time.</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2012/07/17.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSzB_xM6Eo_FGCJvBRH9FNY0yapKmCJObL6jIOZ3YVeyhe7-axnnkwB3S7H_wI6ON3oQp3QfTtqzvVwaJDwLTeMs8242vmbx6wB7DSfVPnM-wJdPGcHeU3j9tmWRegxqpnLrm5gRaBSI/s72-c/b_14_federer_148_aeltc_m_hangst.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-1643384017079300198</guid><pubDate>Thu, 03 May 2012 04:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-05-03T12:46:31.000+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">1Q84</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">books</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">haruki murakami</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">the exchange</category><title>On The Exchange...</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;http://the-exchange.tumblr.com/post/22258619474&quot;&gt;...we are reading &lt;i&gt;1Q84&lt;/i&gt; by Haruki Murakami&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2012/05/on-exchange.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEPXekWxYja22ABk4mQP_aPHsIwbJxmKenfHxtPQyEe3xGjxIYjnJGZE6f331TOwXyZ6RiszgoUYRFJDr4c-I5-V4XqrvpNyvurbNvmxEeAW2aMo1V9i4tF-H6guwW9weiNfvkbtd7f68/s72-c/1Q84+rsg.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-9142511409511566603</guid><pubDate>Thu, 03 May 2012 03:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-05-03T11:46:49.419+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">directors</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">GQ</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Joss Whedon</category><title>Joss Whedon is my master</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.gq.com/entertainment/movies-and-tv/201205/joss-whedon-interview-avengers-buffy-firefly-dr-horrible-sing-along-blog&quot;&gt;A comprehensive article on Joss Whedon on GQ, &quot;The Geek Shall Inherit the Earth.&quot;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&quot;&lt;/i&gt;Buffy&lt;i&gt; gets made in 1992 by director Fran Rubel Kuzui, with Kristy Swanson as Buffy. It isn&#39;t terrible, but it plays way campier than Whedon wanted it to be. He&#39;d imagined it as a pop feminist allegory about a young woman discovering her own strength; it ends up just being about a cheerleader fighting vampires. After that, he does a lot of script-doctoring work, hired-gun stuff, lucrative and frustrating; writes most of the dialogue for &lt;/i&gt;Speed&lt;i&gt; but gets arbitrated off the credits; rewrites the original &lt;/i&gt;Toy Story&lt;i&gt;, which becomes the first animated movie ever nominated for a Best Screenplay Oscar; punches up &lt;/i&gt;Twister&lt;i&gt; and the Kevin Costner maritime disaster &lt;/i&gt;Waterworld&lt;i&gt;.&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2012/05/joss-whedon-is-my-master.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyg3iskCs5NttWXCcFIAXE2X1_woXCwLM5IsoZ5vIN5PLC3tDAQb6l06ulytcs_nDFHB1C02vTmkTYg9nntkGgHY7vjzdZoGoi0twGb8GvkUua3Ahb2W8VzoPoamRzj_8RbmnrmDQ_U68/s72-c/superfriends-chart.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-8550705064171187795</guid><pubDate>Sat, 21 Apr 2012 17:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-05-03T11:48:34.952+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Baguio City</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">being home</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">random</category><title>My week in random bullet points</title><description>Just a few things:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I am a fickle blogger, but like to avoid the customary preamble explaining my absence.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I enjoy reading other people&#39;s stuff. If you like, you can leave me your blog address in the comments section. I will likely follow you if you write about, as Rob Gordon puts it, the important things: books, movies, music. However, if you are also given to ranting and/ or griping about your life, that is also fine, because obviously it is your blog.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://flipboard.com/&quot;&gt;Flipboard&lt;/a&gt; is probably the best thing to happen to me this month. I&#39;ve never been happier to browse my feeds. Everything is so clean and pretty.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I&#39;m struggling with my reading in Manila because it is just too frakking hot. But being home (yes, in Baguio now), I&#39;m looking to Christopher Moore to get me out of this slump. (In other news, you can add me on &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/6463875-kubi&quot;&gt;Goodreads&lt;/a&gt;.)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I walked around town with my little brother this afternoon, and we talked about traveling and markets. I&#39;m discovering what it&#39;s like to have a conversation with an adolescent sibling. It is very new and interesting.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;It is cool here at night, and my soul dry sobs at the thought of having to go back to sleeping in hell.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later.&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2012/04/my-week-in-random-bullet-points.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-8662157917186090023</guid><pubDate>Tue, 10 Apr 2012 13:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-04-21T12:16:00.639+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">182 trees</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Baguio City</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">environment</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Save the 182</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">SM City Baguio</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">SM City Baguio cutting trees</category><title>Misdirection</title><description>&lt;b&gt;Just a couple of updates (21 April 2012; I know, I know, these should have been up earlier.):&lt;/b&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.abs-cbnnews.com/nation/regions/04/13/12/court-extends-tepo-sm-baguio-trees&quot;&gt;The Temporary Environmental Protection Order issued to SM has been extended until the case against them is resolved&lt;/a&gt; &lt;i&gt;(13 April 2012)&lt;/i&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.abs-cbnnews.com/nation/regions/04/18/12/sm-baguio-opens-doors-critics-govt&quot;&gt;Suddenly, there is talk of soil erosion happening on Luneta Hill and that constructing a seven-storey building and a parking lot will help address it&lt;/a&gt; &lt;i&gt;(18 April 2012)&lt;/i&gt;.&amp;nbsp;Eh? How convenient. One of the earliest environmental lessons we are taught is that the presence of vegetation reduces erosion.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
**********&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The community is in an uproar about the 182 trees SM City Baguio is cutting down (What&#39;s all this crap about earthballing?) to make room for additional parking space. &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.abs-cbnnews.com/nation/regions/04/10/12/sm-still-uprooting-trees-despite-court-order-residents&quot;&gt;The most recent piece of news is SM refuses to comply&amp;nbsp;with a court order demanding it cease its midnight felling.&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;The idea of losing those trees just for parking sickens me. I love Baguio. I love its trees. God knows I love the environment. But I have been feeling torn about the protests. I think we&#39;re barking up the wrong tree (ha-ha).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SM City Baguio is a shopping mall. Their primary objective is to make money. When fulfilling their &quot;social/ environmental responsibility,&quot; they simply push the use of green bags and hang up poster boards about &quot;protecting the environment.&quot; I&#39;m sorry to say this, but that&#39;s all we can really expect from them. SM is a money-making enterprise, not a conservation initiative. Henry Sy is a businessman, not a public servant. So, I don&#39;t think the &quot;Shame on you, SM&quot; argument is going to fly with me.&amp;nbsp;Who are we kidding?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We&#39;ve all spent years going to SM Baguio. We&#39;ve shopped there, eaten there, seen movies there. I&#39;m a sucker for their Bills Payment Center. They&#39;ve made life a hell of a lot easier. We overlooked the fact that before there was SM, there happened to be a greenspace on Luneta Hill. A true greenspace with aesthetic &lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt; ecological value.&amp;nbsp;And I&#39;ll tell you, there were a lot more than 182 trees.&amp;nbsp;But we went to SM anyway. Our memories are so short. Now it&#39;s happening again, we&#39;re so quick to turn on The Big Bad Corporation. We&#39;ve lapped up the convenience of having a mall, and suddenly we&#39;re all so indignant about 182 trees.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What did we expect, honestly? We were screwed the moment SM Development was allowed into the City. We lost those trees the moment esteemed members of the city council had their pockets lined with Big Bad Corporation dough. &lt;i&gt;Bayad na eh.&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Matagal na.&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;It pisses me off that the failings of those actually responsible for the ecological well-being of this City are only an afterthought in this battle for the trees. Members of the local government, these so-called public servants, have betrayed us time and time again.&amp;nbsp;Oh sure, there have been different faces, but it&#39;s the same inadequate administration.&amp;nbsp;They allowed SM to colonize our City, among other lamentable crimes. These supposed leaders opened their legs for commercialism, and have been whoring away Baguio&#39;s soul since. They condone the actions of SM now, and are getting away with it.&amp;nbsp;Development in our City has been going in the wrong direction for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A couple of weeks ago, &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.baguiomidlandcourier.com.ph/front.asp?mode=archives/2012/april/4-1-2012/front2.txt&quot;&gt;this article appeared in the Baguio Midland Courier and sent me off the rails.&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;A little bit from that piece:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
&quot;The city council committee on health, sanitation, and environment stated that it is not the proper body to act on the demand of concerned groups opposed to the project for the council to support their cause.&quot;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So who exactly, if not a committee for the environment, should have been keeping an eye on the trees?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In Camp John Hay, even more widespread clearing of trees has been happening under our noses. These pine trees are getting cut down to accommodate the construction of hotels and townhouses people from Baguio can&#39;t afford themselves. The pine cover in the trails are thinning out while the area for golf courses appears to be increasing. Important fern and shrub species are getting cleared with no thought as to how this might affect the ecosystem. Camp John Hay is an urban greenspace, if there ever was one.&amp;nbsp;It is a habitat, provides clean air, and improves the climate. It is one of the few remaining areas near the center with a pine forest. Who is looking out for the trees and the plants there? The people of Baguio must fight for ALL of the trees.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The 182 have become famous. But if you ask me, it shouldn&#39;t have gotten to a point where we could already count the trees.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Also, while we&#39;re at it, &lt;i&gt;bakit kasi kailangan ng &lt;/i&gt;additional parking &lt;i&gt;sa&lt;/i&gt; SM?&lt;i&gt; Dahil marami na masyadong kotse at taxi sa Baguio. Nakakapikon.&lt;/i&gt;)</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2012/04/misdirection.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-8635948766804188260</guid><pubDate>Tue, 22 Nov 2011 16:07:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-11-23T00:11:09.660+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">personal</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">random</category><title>I like for you to be still*</title><description>These days I prefer silence.&lt;br /&gt;
People and places feel far away and I am adrift.&lt;br /&gt;
Home is at the tip of my tongue.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #444444;&quot;&gt;*line from Pablo Neruda&#39;s &lt;i&gt;&quot;I like for you to be still&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-like-for-you-to-be-still.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-6111636185737067043</guid><pubDate>Mon, 31 Oct 2011 16:07:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-09T18:39:07.329+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">family</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">November 1</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">personal</category><title>A note on my grandmother</title><description>How have you all been this long weekend? I&#39;m writing from home, and I think this is the first time in many visits that I&#39;m not worrying about school or work.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve been spending time with my family, remembering loved ones who have passed on. I especially miss my grandmother, because November 1st actually reminds me of her. When I was much younger, she used to marshal our big family off to the cemetery every year to visit the graves of our&amp;nbsp;&lt;i style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;lolo&lt;/i&gt;s and&amp;nbsp;&lt;i style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;lola&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;s. It would be a day-long event, with her in the thick of everything. She would have my&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;tita&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;s pack Marie biscuits and bottles of Coke so we wouldn&#39;t go hungry during our expedition. Apart from the candles and flowers, we would bring brooms to clean the family plot. It was a busy scene: the adults chattering amid tidying up and the children playing with candle wax until someone got burned. Sometime during the day, my grandmother would bring me and my cousins along for a walk through the bustling cemetery. We would call on relatives and family friends, my cousins and I inducing the customary exclamations of&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;&quot;Nagdadakkel dan!&quot;&lt;/i&gt; (Look how big they&#39;ve grown!). Often, we would run into this ancient great-uncle who always looked spiffy in a brown suit. She was a real family woman, my grandmother. On the day we are supposed to remember the dead, she made it a point to bring together the living.&lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2011/11/note-on-my-grandmother.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-9135806546840245083</guid><pubDate>Mon, 31 Oct 2011 15:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-08-18T03:25:14.917+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Happy Halloween</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">random</category><title>Happy Halloween, ickle ghouls and goblins</title><description>Halloween with its costumes and trick-or-treating isn&#39;t a Filipino practice, but if we insist on dressing up,&amp;nbsp;I would like to see more children as&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;manananggal&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;tikbalang&lt;/i&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Our monsters are as fascinating and terrifying as any vampire or werewolf.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Side photo: A&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;A Wild Sheep Chase&lt;/i&gt; sheep shirt! (found in Artwork for P150)&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQN5sGNPsUzdjNCAeyCqB9GutL0xsNFfd8xPML6Fbr1be5xptYVELcazaT8tt1tuGGFbOjy9L_JC5aY9zVTg4dsV8k5b87yFUmhf0yQ9VIzuDyPLc7k5RHWRMCJhv0hyphenhyphencLrIA2kuk_8xw/s1600/011.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQN5sGNPsUzdjNCAeyCqB9GutL0xsNFfd8xPML6Fbr1be5xptYVELcazaT8tt1tuGGFbOjy9L_JC5aY9zVTg4dsV8k5b87yFUmhf0yQ9VIzuDyPLc7k5RHWRMCJhv0hyphenhyphencLrIA2kuk_8xw/s400/011.JPG&quot; width=&quot;223&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I&#39;m reading &lt;i&gt;Un Lun Dun&lt;/i&gt; by China Mieville to keep things sufficiently eerie. What are you reading this fine ghostly night?&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2011/10/happy-halloween-ickle-ghouls-and.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQN5sGNPsUzdjNCAeyCqB9GutL0xsNFfd8xPML6Fbr1be5xptYVELcazaT8tt1tuGGFbOjy9L_JC5aY9zVTg4dsV8k5b87yFUmhf0yQ9VIzuDyPLc7k5RHWRMCJhv0hyphenhyphencLrIA2kuk_8xw/s72-c/011.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-3171275781283236811</guid><pubDate>Fri, 21 Oct 2011 15:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-22T06:45:08.965+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">hanna</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">October 21</category><title>Today is Hanna Day</title><description>&lt;i&gt;This is for Banana on her 25th birthday:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You are a dreamer,&lt;br /&gt;
a cumulus cloud chaser.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You are a storyteller,&lt;br /&gt;
and yes, &quot;your bed is a raft.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
You are a wordsmith,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Long Live the Oxford comma!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
You are a paperback lover,&lt;br /&gt;
a book devourer.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
You are a green Post-it note,&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Don&#39;t forget the cake.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You are a music mastermind,&lt;br /&gt;
secret mix-tapes playing in your head.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You are a true original,&lt;br /&gt;
a rare vintage LP.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
You are a lion-heart,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
and life is a waltz.&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2011/10/today-is-hanna-day.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-6945440570362559309</guid><pubDate>Sun, 16 Oct 2011 13:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-09-11T05:56:17.360+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Baguio City</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">family</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">random</category><title>Home again.</title><description>Interverse, did I not tell you that I was back home? That&#39;s right, again. I&#39;m here to do some data gathering for a special problem for my terrestrial sampling methods class (Did you also feel that I am sharing unnecessarily here? Because I&#39;m typing this and I have a feeling you won&#39;t really care.) Anyhow, plunging on shamelessly, the sampling is done! Yes, this morning, while it was shining and John Hay smelled all of pine and dew. We saw a black labrador and lots of ferns. So many ferns.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is my mother. She was my RA for the day, even when she could have been sleeping in on the weekend. She&#39;s the best.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WN4_VAqDhW6A03uOrPVhXyiDR4PkpFlYClRwq_hWFL77lCqxuX4jrdQ0aBVZWdV7TQqSM06yQ-uFi8xvt_DXR2QiHLyukvPr_Mil2otMm0z8Q5lyUJgP1rMWFTSmjwPNrxLbUwezT_I/s1600/IMG_5070.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;640&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WN4_VAqDhW6A03uOrPVhXyiDR4PkpFlYClRwq_hWFL77lCqxuX4jrdQ0aBVZWdV7TQqSM06yQ-uFi8xvt_DXR2QiHLyukvPr_Mil2otMm0z8Q5lyUJgP1rMWFTSmjwPNrxLbUwezT_I/s640/IMG_5070.JPG&quot; width=&quot;356&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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After, the boys met up with us and Pa took us out to Army Navy for lunch in that new Convergys place (My fine Baguio folk, &lt;i&gt;please&lt;/i&gt;. Do not roll your eyes at my belatedness, this place is still novel to me.) I had the steak burrito, and was satisfied as always. However: Army Navy, you know you totally strum my guitar, but you seriously need to rethink your condiments. I am nuts about your cream thing, but more salsa I say! Plus, your lemon wedge is not so much a wedge as half a wedge. Acid is the secret source of your burrito&#39;s power. Give me a full wedge!&lt;br /&gt;
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(Before I forget: my baby brother is taller than me and there are unknowable things happening to his voice.)&lt;br /&gt;
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And then, Booksale after. It was on sale more than it usually is because the rest of SM is on sale. So:&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnER98sW_u5ye3ow-WR9HG2V3E9mueW1W1nJL3_wg_GYOjsO0HWlFhlZXYBT6lF0cYCEEIN8ZK-j2IJs4l11NfNfGPT791v-PwrG6lIfMR2ASvCcIpcFEy7AtrynyZeHPY7gve5Ly9xSg/s1600/IMG_5153.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;358&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnER98sW_u5ye3ow-WR9HG2V3E9mueW1W1nJL3_wg_GYOjsO0HWlFhlZXYBT6lF0cYCEEIN8ZK-j2IJs4l11NfNfGPT791v-PwrG6lIfMR2ASvCcIpcFEy7AtrynyZeHPY7gve5Ly9xSg/s640/IMG_5153.JPG&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
What was a Bukowski doing there? For only P127 too. And finally, a copy of &lt;i&gt;What Was She Thinking?&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;(&lt;i&gt;Notes on a Scandal)&lt;/i&gt; because it was only P45 and didn&#39;t have the movie cover. I can be obsessive like that. Also, Booksale is cheeky (read: bookmark). That&#39;s why we love them.&lt;br /&gt;
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At the end of the day, we dropped by the SM Supermarket. Boys and girls, &lt;i&gt;maiawawannak idiay&lt;/i&gt;. The &lt;i&gt;tocino&lt;/i&gt; and the &lt;i&gt;tapa&lt;/i&gt; were not where they normally are. I wanted to sit quietly in a corner and wait for my father to come get me. Because that is what you are supposed to do if you get lost.&lt;br /&gt;
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There is an art to packing groceries. When I was younger and there was no SM Supermarket, we used to shop in local grocery stores like U-Need or Victoria&#39;s or 5 Cents Up or Sunshine. The bag boys could fit everything we bought in three bags or less. They were genius packers, efficient in their use of space and quick with their hands. They would momentarily approximate the relative sizes and shapes of the items, and find the perfect nook for them in each white plastic bag. When you carried the bags, things didn&#39;t stick out to poke you in the leg. The bottoms would be flat so the bags would be upright when you put them down. And the eggs were always on top. When you had too many items for plastic bags, the boys would suggest you would be much better off with a box. Everything would fit neatly in there too, tied up with straw, a perfect handle knotted at the top for easy transport. In SM, they just toss things thoughtlessly into huge plastic bags. Weekly grocery shoppers tend to end up with six or seven loads. It is a wasteful process. Remember when we said we would stop using plastic?&lt;br /&gt;
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Later, dancing hippos. I am tired of looking at plants.</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2011/10/home-again.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WN4_VAqDhW6A03uOrPVhXyiDR4PkpFlYClRwq_hWFL77lCqxuX4jrdQ0aBVZWdV7TQqSM06yQ-uFi8xvt_DXR2QiHLyukvPr_Mil2otMm0z8Q5lyUJgP1rMWFTSmjwPNrxLbUwezT_I/s72-c/IMG_5070.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-4893124468911368885</guid><pubDate>Fri, 14 Oct 2011 14:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-15T07:07:42.215+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">books</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Jeffrey Eugenides</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">my pursuit of happiness</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">random</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">The Marriage Plot</category><title>Living for today</title><description>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0PlZBZrr3XUPna21cyonsnQLjkENh8ieh4ULoeS-fuQBcU8ucQBYY-MDGxMG4aip3-9TD5jL0cxe4ElAv38FZX5wxFRumPQgO1t3peYmjY6jdQoAxERMQOBRnfi45kSq2xYzBcZRvOk/s1600/003.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;385&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0PlZBZrr3XUPna21cyonsnQLjkENh8ieh4ULoeS-fuQBcU8ucQBYY-MDGxMG4aip3-9TD5jL0cxe4ElAv38FZX5wxFRumPQgO1t3peYmjY6jdQoAxERMQOBRnfi45kSq2xYzBcZRvOk/s640/003.JPG&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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You guys. Isn&#39;t that the most boring cover ever? But Jeffrey Eugenides, I am your bitch. I will believe everything you write.&lt;br /&gt;
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Internetz, I am all kinds of busy, y u no leave me alone?&lt;br /&gt;
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Today, my brain clicked. I think it is the result of the seemingly unrelated bunch of images and videos and news stories I&#39;ve been encountering while trawling the interwebs.I was like the Intersect, except MUCH slower and I still don&#39;t know kung fu.&lt;br /&gt;
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Randomly, have you seen Emmanuel Kelly&#39;s rendition of &quot;Imagine&quot; on The X-Factor? The YouTube video has been shared and re-shared on Facebook all day. The info box said: &quot;BEWARE...Make sure you have lots of tissue beside you.&quot; I scoffed, Challenge Accepted. And you guys? I cried. (My friends will tell you I cry at anything. They would be right. So I really don&#39;t know what I was Challenge Accepted-ing for.) That John Lennon. He knew his shit. And that boy. He can sing.&lt;br /&gt;
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Anyway, my brain. It is as if twinkly lights have come on one by one in my head and, outside looking in, I feel like I&#39;m looking up at the Sagada night sky in January. I&#39;m thinking more clearly, and I&#39;m inspired. I remember why I&#39;m doing what I&#39;m doing. It will be useful in the coming days and weeks when I will be a writing machine.&lt;br /&gt;
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Later.</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2011/10/living-for-today.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0PlZBZrr3XUPna21cyonsnQLjkENh8ieh4ULoeS-fuQBcU8ucQBYY-MDGxMG4aip3-9TD5jL0cxe4ElAv38FZX5wxFRumPQgO1t3peYmjY6jdQoAxERMQOBRnfi45kSq2xYzBcZRvOk/s72-c/003.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668137273721176495.post-1147704810459154790</guid><pubDate>Thu, 13 Oct 2011 08:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-10-13T16:40:48.346+08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Justice for Given Grace Cebanico</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">UPLB</category><title>Let&#39;s make our schools safe</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;http://ph.news.yahoo.com/uplb-community-mourns-slay-victim.html&quot;&gt;Given Grace Cebanico was someone&#39;s child.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</description><link>http://kubiyat.blogspot.com/2011/10/lets-make-our-schools-safe.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (kubiyat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNtLxAjRLeWw2vUZ8p72q5X9opC48M1Ak_K4n7eM8at9yfNLToC30Da75DNzV2GjgQqE3mHeKGw4BgpqcYrw7-z0t8EUXNfdPeQzpvsTFuEVtZBfUOtcdkusNLhE1lct9Kan6WYnnjD_M/s72-c/Given+Grace+Cebanico.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>