blogonhoy: May 2004 | pauline orendain

31.5.04

can someone please explain

how lola (grandma) chic has become a huge thing for summer? Everywhere I go, bus, train, Manhattan (!), women of all ages, sizes and colors are wearing these Chinese lola slippers in all sizes and colors as the most vouge, hip accesssory they've come accross for the season. Well slap me silly because when I see these on their feet, I envision some old lady with long gray hair (wearing a brightly printed duster from Divisoria or Baclaran), either shuffling around a dark, mosquito infested ancient family house decorated with ming vases and intricately carved mahogany chairs, or shooing away flies from the food at a carinderia (cheap eatery) joint. Gives me the shivers.

Spring at last!

Central Railroad platform

The Central Railroad of New Jersey Terminal

Ellis Island to the left and The Statue's backside - greener than ever.

New Jersey skyline

Manhattan skyline

Batery Park

On the LRT

All aboard! 05/2004

Memorial Day

It was a rather blustery day, cloudy, windy, overcast and rather gray. But Liberty Park was a nice place to be with the gray water lapping, the Manhattan skyline (Batery Park), Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty in the distance signalling the significance of the day. 5 F-16 fighter jets flew the sky in a V at noon, giving salute to the heroes, past and present. The wind howled some more, and then I came upon a gorgeous patch of pink, magenta and white spring blooms. How nice to have spring back and not go from winter to summer in one fell swoop that is usual of Las Vegas. Perfect spring day. 05/2004

New home ver. 1.0. It's been re-arranged since this picture. Notice Totoro on screen. These days, it plays more of The Emperor's New Groove and my current favorite, Castle in the Sky. I finally watched this Miyazake feature in full, without the periodical breaks of "want cookies", or "want strawberry smoothie", or wiping up the spilt this and that messes. The dialogue was translated very well, and the story was a good one, without too much drama and just enough emotion to be convincing. 04/2004

With my cousin MariCris, our two babies, and Isabelle - she's a truly amazing 15 month old. She knows sign language and is absolutely adorable! 04/2004

28.5.04

IKEA | category a-z

RUN! To the Ikea sale - only twice a year to get even more affordable Skandinavian furniture for the masses...

Argh. I hate the way the photoblog automatically does an optimal resolution - not good. It's very spare and rather grainy. I also don't like the way it auto links it to the larger reso image. Anybody got tips how to use Picasa's HELLO? Not a very intuitive user interface in my opinion.

snowbunny

laying on the drama

27.5.04

killing the code

Ack. After two days of trouble shooting damn code, I finally found the problem. Two missing letters: px. As in "pixels", as in without those two letters, the whole alignment to the blog had been completely off, and I couldn't find what the heck was the matter. So, going line by friggin line, I finally found it. There you have it. Blogger back in service, with Tag Board to boot.

WAHOO!!! FANTASIA BARRINO!

26.5.04

OK. Because I stubbornly refuse to use templates, this blog will look mighty wonky for a bit.

Normal service will resume as soon as facelifting has completed.

slow double penalty in work zone

This site is now under re-construction. Like the city of Las Vegas' motto: If it ain't broke, fix it before the budget comes up.

24.5.04

Best skyscapes are in Nevada, without a doubt

Red Rock Canyon - 10/2002
Testing Photoblog - works great!

at your service in the twilight zone

Talk about service. Went through another interview today, although it was the strangest one yet. I received a phone call from the would-be-employer and we shot the shit, getting through the usual mini interview that is typical of phone interview/conversations. Then, the interviewer wanted to know if I had a car and could drive, just to make sure that I could, in the instance of being hired, get to work on a daily basis. I proceeded to say that yes, I drive, but no, I don't have my car yet as it is being shipped and will not be in New Jersey until around the 9th of June. Blah, blah, blah, when could I meet him for an (real) interview, blah, blah, blah, I would have to arrange it including baby sitter and borrowing a car to get to his office, so on so forth. Then, he offered to meet me in half an hour, since he would be in Jersey City to see a client at 5 PM. It all boiled down to - that he would make a house call just to make this interview. It's a bit odd I think, I mean would you put on a suit and shoes for the interview in your own home? Would you offer the interviewer a drink, make sure they feel comfortable as you welcome them? What about the 2 year old boy running around making silly noises and throwing crayons across the room while they question your experience and former duties? It put me rather in the twilight zone as my son proceeded to top my head with his Winnie the Pooh pillow as the interviewer guy asked me why I decided to relocate to New Jersey and what my salary requirements were....But. I think it went well though.

21.5.04

join the dots

What more to want than one of my favorite band of all time's B-Sides and Rarities? Though I've heard and own many of the ones compiled on this collection from collecting the singles when I LOVED them, there's a lot more I haven't heard. It sort of brings back the memories, and the joy with which I used to digest music in the decade of the 80s. Though there are a lot of interesting things to love here, there are some things that leave me feeling a bit "eh".

I think Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me was The Cure's defining moment - the moment they reached the peak of their career, the moment America was finally aware of them, and the moment of the tour that I had to do what it took to see them, since I was finally in a country where they were actually touring. So see them I did at the then LA Forum, that summer. 17 years later and I still remember the concert opening: a big screen coming down the stage with the image of an eye, the one and the same from the album back cover, various visual and lighting effects and the rising volume of The Kiss beginning to play. And then in the light of numerous spotlights, Robert Smith emerged on center stage, the hair, the disheveled suit, the white trainers, the guitar, the very image of my worship! How we screamed, how we jumped with joy, how we loved it all. This was what music was all about.

The brilliance of the Kiss Me... album overshadowed all the previous albums (with the exception of a few songs) - dark intertwining with the upbeat dance and poppy numbers - it had it all and was a double album to boot! I played it out all summer long, into the fall and so on until 1989. Along came Disintegration and I was on a downward spiral thereafter, sheer proof that they had made it as people were touting it as a "pop album" - fast forward to 2004 and Pictures of You gets a 30 sec. spotlight in an HP ad. Blech. So much for Robert Smith being listed as one of the wealthiest guys in England on the merit of his music alone.

Don't get me wrong, I still love all of The Cure and Robert Smith, how could I not? How could I not love a guy who gave me an idea of how to dress, do my hair and make up all at once? How could I not love the music that fed me ideas on what other music to like and how to live my life? I will and always be a Cure fan, to the end.

woes of the unemployed

As of this moment, I am officially unemployed, jobless, without work, drifting, in limbo, in purgatory: sans argent. But hey, look! I can read EVERYBODY's blog, not scan, not browse, not view real quick - actually read, take my time and click off into the vortex of the world wide web, allowing myself to get lost and finding other portals, lands, and places I never imagined. It's hard to get lost while at work because you soon forget what you were really doing (waiting for humongous files to download to the server, but meanwhile let me read _____'s blog), then your superior walks in and it's either ALT/TAB or Show Desktop and apparently, you're doing nothing because there's nothing on your desktop at all. I can also browse the ifnite items of amazon.com, but sadly not buy anything. I could also start fixing up the house to the way I want it to look, but nothing will be in until next week. But then, I know I have to actually browse monster.com, careers.com, nj.com for jobs, jobs, jobs. Tweak the resume until it fits the various profiles, inject key words for appropriate positions, blah, blah, blah. Can I just stay home, surf the internet till my eyes go bleary and watch DVDs till I fall asleep and not mind the unemployment thing one bit? Sigh...

house chores

Still a lot to be done around the house. I mailed off a total 41 boxes through UPS and am expecting them to trickle in sometime next week. That will be bitch to unpack; as much as it was to pack. If only I had the ability to part with the unessential, but I'm a nostalgist at heart and parting with things, persons, anything is heart-wrenching for me. Bah.

Dylan gets to stay home for a while, and while he does, leaves a trail of mess: Hot Wheels to trip on, Legos to crunch under foot, scrunched up tissues with pizza sauce and bits of cheese, upside down tables and chairs, puddles of milk and juice, and in between all, we have a ball!

death by the worst airline seats ever

Thanks to Continental, I'm suffering from lack of sleep, along with a sore neck and shoulders and a general feeling of malaise and interminable jet lag. I attribute my lame answers to yesterday's job interview to this. I think I should sue the airline...

Apprehensive all night after dropping off Marley at the America West/Continental cargo building, it didn't help that most of the night was spent thinking how he might be doing down below in the dark cargo hold. I had given him two sedatives prior to the flight just to calm him down and prevent him from pawing at his crate door, and hopefully, to let him sleep through the duration of the waiting time and the actual flight. I had put him in the crate a few days ago just to see how he would hate being in there, and he pawed at the door desperately, looking like he could definitely tear it down if he really got desparate enough. Landed at Newark Liberty at around 6:05 AM and headed out to the baggage claim, still worried about Marley, hoping he made it through without escaping the crate. I couldn't wait to pick him up and take him out of his cage and insure him that he was a free dog. After picking up my incredibly heavy suitcases (yes, I'm an idiot I ended up paying $75 for excess weight), I rushed off to the QUICKPAK office where Marley in his crate was waiting. He must have been still groggy in there. I said hello to him, insuring him that everything was alright and went to the desk to process the paperwork. He began to bark at this point. Understand that Marley rarely ever barks, and this was indeed a strong protest to be let out; out of the cage, out of the building, out of the whole ordeal. I was just relieved to hear the bark and to know that he was sane enough to protest the situation.

17.5.04

death by boxes

How much bloody stuff could I possibly have?! I've been packing all week, filled up about 30 16 x 16 boxes, and still, I do not see the light at the end of the tunnel. I've made a huge mess and there are still things laying all around the house. I'm deeply frustrated. I vow to not buy anything for a year. Well, not counting books, shoes, hard drives, CDs, lipstick, hats...

16.5.04

the OG:
dicks and ass

Speaking of booty, went to Olympic Garden last night to catch some beefcake with friends and a bachelorette who is getting married next week. Wild riot night to say the least! The mother in-law to be had just as much fun and opted for not one but two lap dances, one on stage and one off!

The OG has two floors; ladies down below and men up on top. We wandered the ladies floor for a bit, saw more silicon than in a computer chip factory and marveled at cellulite which made the bachelorette happy that not all women are perfect after all (clearly, she hasn't ventured over to Little Darlings where the skin is mostly smooth all over). We got bored and headed for the elevator going up. As the doors slid open, the music was thumping and screams were emanating from the entire floor. The music was a million times better and the men were just getting their groove on - the entire room of women were going wild. "Johnny" was the first man over, offering lapdances and the mother-in-law was hooked. We quickly ordered drinks and broke lots of dollar bills, made our way to the stage and sat there until 3:30 AM, stuffing our bras and jeans with dollars for them to grab with hands, mouth, whatever, and oh, we were simply marvelling at the sights! We could only feel sorry for our friend's bachelor and his friends as we deduced they could not possibly be having as much screaming fun as we were. There were a ton of bachelorettes being pulled on the stage ($30.00 a dance, including some ass rubbing and vigorous packaging shaking in your face), and one of them had a threesome ($$$!). The bachelorette and I were eyeing three black guys with the best buns, and mother-in-law continued to scream for "Johnny". The drinks at $10.50 a pop for a Tanquery tonic made us poor idiots by the end of the evening and the ATM monster charged five bucks for withdrawals. We called it a morning after "Johnny" left, and bachelorette was riding in the car with windows rolled down announcing to the world, "I want to fuck my husband! Where is he?!"

the fall of troy

So Brad Pitt was a hot bronze number who didn't show his ass enough in this movie. As for the movie itself, I can't view it objectively as I've spent too much time in the past discussing The Illiad and The Odyssey, and the fate of Odesseus and Agamemnon on their return home. From high school English class, then again in a college Greek Drama class, there seemed to be no end to the saga. It's a bit hard to watch when you know who's going to die, who kills who, and how it happens exactly. I don't know how to watch a film that spans 2-3 hours after reading the books that took months to go through and understand.

So, I was disappointed. After a while, it was all about Brad's ass and wanting to see more of it, even though he really isn't my type. He was bathed in this golden glow - you couldn't deny wanting to see those abs in great lighting, in fact there seemed to be this golden gloss thrown over the entire film. All I could gather was nothing is more important than to have your name emblazoned in the history books for the next thousand years. Heroes and glory - this seems to be all there is to it. I don't think one gets a sense of the characters, or the hardship or the life of camping outside of Troy for that long. How would you feel about Agamemnon if you knew that he had sacrificed his own daughter, at the bidding of the gods, just so that they could sail off and he could finally get his war on? Besides, how do you show the duration and events of a ten year war without making it look like it all took place in three weeks, which this movie did?

All I can say is, if you appreciate a nice set of buns, go catch a glimpse of Brad's in this film.

13.5.04

just one look and i can hear a bell ring

Mama Mia is the feel good, feel really good musical of my year. If you, like me, spent your entire 9 year old life playing/rewinding/playing/rewinding your mother's ABBA tapes so that you could sing along, this musical is guaranteed to have you singing and dancing in the aisles, truly! My mother scored excellent $100 tickets for $50, and we were estatic when we found ourselves in the third row middle section. For the first time, I could see actor's expressions and not just hear them belting out. And facial expressions are key in this production, espcecially for the humor factor. I found myself knowing most of the lyrics, although I did miss one of my favorites, Fernando. So I sang and laughed my way through it, and my definite favorites were Tanya and Rosie who were older women but had perfect comedic timing and could belt the tunes as fast as they came. One of the men, the one who played Sam was a bit operatic though, and his voice was just not suited to ABBA. My mother was up clapping and dancing and showing the audience just how to do it, because we had a rather sedate audience that evening. Needless to say, it was fun for the whole family.

12.5.04

foiled!

That's it - I'm making my vote count and I'm voting Fantasia all the way next week! Not that I couldn't believe Latoya and Fantasia would be the bottom two - it's just that the whole Hawaiian islands, the entire Filipino-Hawaiian-American population and their mothers must have voted for Jasmine despite terrible song choices last night justifying my not liking her for the win. I don't mean to not support a Filipino, but it's time to give credit where credit is due. I'm getting my re-dial button ready on Fantasia's number.

waiting in vain

It takes an eternity for the QUICK-COUNTS. The world teeters on the edge. Let it be good, or at least the next not-so-evil, one step below the evilest, lesser of the two evils choice. Too bad I couldn't ink up to vote, if only to deflect a single vote away from the worst candidate. Nail biting is in the air.

10.5.04

belleville rendez-vous

The Triplets of Belleville then puts Van Helsing to shame even with it's lack of dialogue and black men dressed as old women skatting. I loved it! Not just the song number and playing an old fridge shelf, blowing a vacuum cleaner, shuffling a newspaper and poking an old bicycle tire, but the story about the adventure of a club footed woman, a fat dog and a thunderous thighed Tour de France contender. Beautiful artwork, great soundtrack and I love the super dog most of all.

Oh, oh, oh how I hate the new Blogger GUI. It SUCKS big time. Not that I was a big fan of the last interface, but this is like going to someplace you've been to before but you had to take a detour down a different street and everything just disorients and makes you feel cross-eyed.

8.5.04

van helpme

Ack, what was I thinking? Actually, I didn't expect anything. Actually, I wasn't really thinking when I drove to the movie theater to watch this movie because I was really thinking about watching Kill Bill Vol. 2. But somehow I ended up in theater 9 with Van Helsing. So, OK, I thought mindless action movie involving vampires and warewolves - where have I heard of this before? I won't be critical, I'll try to sit back and not think about it too much. Let's see if I can just go for a ride without noticing which route I'm taking.

Ugh. First off, we were sitting too close to the damn screen, so I couldn't really get the big picture. Then, the opening sequence and score couldn't help but make me think, hmmm, this looks like it's going to be a bad one, but let it ride.

By the time the camera focused on the uncountable number of Absinthe bottles scattered about the windmill where Frankenstein's monster runs, then panned back to the angry mob carrying flaming torches, it was all over for me. This took about 5 minutes or less. We all know what happens next, and if you can't guess, then go, I say go watch this movie! My office mate of course had to ask "why are there so many alcohol bottles laying around?". Ugh. You can guess who suggested this movie over Kill Bill Vol. 2.

If you're determined to watch this movie, please look out for one of the scenes near the end, where warewolf hovers over dead maiden, then picks her up in his arms and howwwwwwls/rooooaaarrs in anger/sadness. Oh, it's pricelsss - worth the ticket price for the good belly laugh I got out of it. Oh, the composition, oh, the framing, oh, the horror of this movie! One thing good - Kate Beckinsale looks great as a Transylvannian gypsy type chick, but make it go away please.

6.5.04

neverwhere

Finally got a hold of the Neverwhere DVD and I didn't expect much as I know it was done for the Beeb and I've seen and like watching BBC productions, and they always have that American daytime soap quality to it (the film, not the story line). I couldn't imagine how on a low budget they could get all the imagery and the whole atmosphere of the London Underground as a backdrop. On the whole, it wasn't as bad as I expected. It was decent enough although I didn't think Mr. Croup nor Mr. Vandemar were as menacing as they came across to me in the book, but I did like their acting. There really wasn't a sense of urgency in the pacing, no sense of suspense and the need to run, and I somehow felt I was in the theater watching a play rather than something on telly. Door also looked eerily like Brittany Murphy in Girl, Interrupted and that was a bit scary. Dave Mckean's title sequences were strange to watch in motion as we've become accustomed to his print work, so that was interesting. I really did think that the introductory parts were a bit off as the narrative was going on and they would pause the image of the person talking. Disconcerting.

The highlight for me though had to be hearing Gaiman talking about it on the interview and doing the commentaries throughout each episode. There's always a great deal to learn from him as he pulls out these obscure refrences and strange facts he reads from strange places. I'd go out and rent it, although I don't think it's necessary to own it unless it's much cheaper than retail.

5.5.04

and now, for something not completely different

Sheeply Thoughts is Lisa's new blog. She's in Boston loving the chawdah (and luverly weather) and I haven't seen or heard from her in years, so it's always nice to read up on a friend in the wired world.

sample that

I had to submit some writing samples for a job I applied to last week. I had to scrounge around in my brain for it, but I finally came up with something at the last minute (always!). This was one of the questions.

Which artist (musical) would you most like to work with and why?
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From the time I saw the video for The Walk in 1983, I knew there was something afoot in music as I knew it. Each time I saw it played on the then somewhat new, fresh and exciting MTV station, I had failed to see both the opening and closing credits in which the artist’s name is displayed along with the album title and record label. I had no idea who it was that simultaneously disturbed and awed me, and left deep ripples of impressions on my brain until I watched MTV more and I started seeing Let's Go to Bed and The Love Cats as well. Thereafter, I was smitten and knew that I had to get my hands on all of The Cure's music up to that point.

If you ask me which artist I would like most to work with, then the answer would be as easy as saying Robert Smith. But it's exactly that: easy. I wouldn't have to think about it; no more than a second later and I'd have already said the name Robert Smith. But, I will change my mind and instead, if I were given the opportunity of choice, I would choose to leave Robert Smith and his brilliant mind alone and choose someone, say, like Marshall Mathers.

It would seem to follow that people who listened to The Cure in the eighties would most likely listen to The Smiths, The Style Council and The Sugarcubes, as well as Björk, Paul Weller and Morissey in the nineties. Perhaps there would be few if any that could accept The Cure and Eminem on the same CD shelf. I like to think that I could be one of these people and embrace the breadth of music, whatever genre. Despite my sunny New Wave past, I now fully embrace the dark world of rap and the culture of hip hop. Who couldn't love a Run DMC rhyme or a Snoop Dogg beat or learn a thing or two about urban/street culture from Queens to Long Beach ?

Choosing Eminem is neither rhyme nor reason and his controversial words would normally make me aghast then appalled. Eminem would be one person in the music industry that I feel I would have nothing much in common with. He brings to mind the word disparate. The world of hip hop is something foreign to me and my upbringing; as disparate as the taste of lemon and coffee. Growing up, consider my first experience with rap being Blondie's Rapture, a mere bridge, albeit possibly the bridge from underground to foreground. Fab Five Freddy's and Kurtis Blow's names were probably the closest I had ever gotten to knowing hip hop. Knowing hip hop solely by name and only on the surface, I most probably could not think of the first thing to say to Eminem were I to meet him face to face, at this very moment. I would be intimidated, threatened, panic stricken just to come up with an opening line. Thoughts like misogynist, criminal, and arrogant bastard would race through my head. I certainly would have to be struck dumb just to remain civil in the face of a challenge like that. But that, exactly, is what I like about the idea of working with Eminem.

Despite what I think of Eminem, despite what misgivings and misconceptions I might have on his personality, I think he has a true talent and possesses a passion for music and rhythm that seems meager in music these days. An on-the-spot lyricist, I think he has a great sense of critical parody, able to see clearly through the veneers and slick covers that music has acquired today. He seems raw, unforgiving, real, and opinionated in contrast to the legion of yes-women/men of popular music. Although I doubt he is infallible or untouchable, and I am by no means a rabid fan, I would like to work with him in hopes of being able to glimpse into a somewhat brilliant mind that is as far-fetched from my own as possible.

3.5.04

dog flies the friendly skies

Our poor Marley will have to brave the skies as he makes his way across the US in the cargo hold of a commercial flight. In pitch black, in the belly of an iron beast, the poor dog will probably undergo his utmost moment of terror, or, he'll sleep it off and wake up all refreshed and ready to go to his new appartment on a city street. I'd go with terror and a lot of whimpering. He loathes the crate and to be in one for about 8-9 hours would bring on claustrophobia and be both terrifying and completely disorienting. The poor thing. If only they would let him sit next to me - after all, I am paying over full fare! Besides if he could talk, he'd talk the ear off the one guy that talks everybody's ear off on these long unbearable flights.

It seems funny the way that "live animals" are often referred to in the rules and regulations language of each airline. They are either shipped as "cargo" without the need to be accompanied, or as "check-in luggage", travelling with you thus diminshing your alloted two bags to a bag and the pet. There are regulations for specific dog breeds such as pugs and bull dogs who have more difficulty with breathing, especially in unusual circumstances, and a completely different set of regulations for "cold blooded live animals" as opposed to the "warm blooded ones". It seems funny to me, and let me explain this, because Marley is really one of our kids. He's not merely a pet nor a piece of luggage or cargo to us, he is a living breathing being that has an over-friendly personality with an exceeding need to be loved. On the otherhand, he doesn't take shit from any other "complete" dogs (dogs with balls, OK?) when they try to bully him to submission in the dog park. He can take care of himself, and pretty much defends his territory when other dogs think it funny to try and hump him. One lady with an overly aggressive idiotic dog who thinks bullying Marley a funny thing to do, dubbed him "The Mean Golden" - as if goldens could ever be mean! Although, I wouldn't be sorry if he ripped her dog's ear off... Usually, he just minds his own business and does his thing (sniff, pee, sniff pee, try to hump female dogs, sniff, pee, drink some water, pee some more), and in general is just happy to play with you and please you as much as possible. He has never been a barker and has never ever been ill tempered no matter how you scold him. He will cower with fear/shame, and then try to make it up to you. He's the best dog we've ever had and loves us back unconditionally with nary a word of back-talk or tantrum in sight. He aims to please and all he asks is to be loved in return. So, it should only be that I am a little apprehensive of subjecting him to fly the "friendly" pitch black skies.