back entry (no, no, don't be green)

earlier this morning, mom was checking out the bundles of clothing my lola was disposing of. in one of the bags, she found the (ancient!) pink-and-lace baptismal clothes she and her sisters wore many many many years ago. at, susmaryosep, parang ayaw niya pang ipamigay.

the clothes reminded me of a huge doll i once had. she had corn-blond hair, eyes that blinked (creepy!) and a battery-operated mechanism that allowed her to "walk". though i had younger siblings, i usually played alone with only my dolls for company. for the most part, i was shy and withdrawn. and almost painfully quiet. even now i'm told that i'm much too soft-spoken. my dad used to tease that i should carry a microphone to make myself heard.

i'm not sure where that little girl went. i'm more sociable now, with the confidence that enables me to talk to just about everyone. and how i love to talk! i've spent at least two nights talking endlessly while waiting for the dawning of the first day of the year.

. . .

here, i shall admit that i am a know-it-all. i feel a terrible hunger to know and to learn. which is why, though i can talk about anything and everything, i hate ditzy exchanges. oh, the occassional 'literary chismis' piques my curiousity but that's about all i can handle. after that, my head begins to hurt from the drain.

case in point: i was at a magazine's office the other week, waiting for my assignment. unfortunately, they were having a go-see (a sort of tryouts for models) and i found myself sitting next to a guy who kept checking the mirror every few seconds and across from a brunette legolas-look-alike (or wannabe?). avi, wink and i were watching a ballet (la divina/tango filipino was absolutely stunning! more on this later) later in the evening so i was wearing gold stilettos. i felt mortified, imagining that the others considered me as another model-applicant. god forbid.

(this is not to say that i am too clever or intensively intellectual for such things. perhaps. but i'm probably just too snooty for my own good.)

(i forget what insight follows after the fragmented story.)

. . .

it was twinkle's birthday last march 15 and we celebrated with a dessert buffet, sangria, and ballet.

thursday: after the long (and incredibly tiresome) poetry reading/hobnobbing with diplomats at alliance francaise, we had an extremely intimate party (because there were only 6 of us) at lgv. we had snickers cheesecake (which avi and i prepared earlier that day), mango jubilee, banana something (for margie, of course!) and sangria (refer to earlier entry).

haha, it was fun. crisgee gave margie his, umm, orange/ponkan peel. *kilig(?)*

friday: my heart has always belonged to the dance. thanks to my mom's friend, i've been watching ballet (for free!) ever since i was a little girl prancing about the grand staircase in girly-gowns and stockings. so avi, wink and i went to the gala night performance of la divina/tango filipino, which honors blackpool dance festival winner edna ledesma.

i'm pleased to report that ballet philippines has maintained its standard for artistic excellence for over 36 years. their performances remain exceptional, fusing classical ballet with other dances and giving it a modern twist. lucy torres graced the opening act with a sensual tango. i don't think much of her performance but the dance in itself is wonderfully seductive. i could barely sit still.

and when the danseurs came out in bahags, wink and i began to nudge each other. haha, they have really nice butts. all dancers do. *ahem*

by the time the final act was over, we were all giddy from the unexpected "show". margie! you should have been there! we missed you!

. . .

some people have been asking about the old typewriters i mentioned in my previous entry. to clarify, they aren't the pretty kind you have in mind. if you're looking for something that looks like the one in the picture, we don't have it. sorry to get your hopes up.

this one is from rae's psid exhibit. no, i have no idea if it's for sale.

. . .

finally finished 'sun stone' by octavio paz. it was so long i could barely follow the trail of thought. but it's lovely and i'm sure muriel rukeyser did a great job of translating. here's the excerpt i love best:

to love is to struggle, and if two people kiss
the world is transformed, and all desires made flesh
and intellect is made flesh; great wings put forth
their shoots from the shoulders of the slave, the world
is real and to be touched and the wine is wine,
the bread can taste again, the water is water,
to love is to struggle, is to open doors,
to stop being a fantasy with a number
condemned to the sentence of the endless chain
by a faceless master;
and the world is changed
when two people look at each other, recognizing
to love is to take off our clothes and our names...

thank you, mahal, for the lovely gift. just because.

. . .

plug: milan kundera's identity is a lovely read. i am officially no longer allergic to his daunting (and sometimes confusing) prose. <3

and i practically stole the anthology of contemporary american poets (american poetry since 1940) edited by mark strand for only 75 pesos. yay! it's a signet classic so it's not too pretty and the paper smells funky (reminds me of roaches, actually. yes, that bad). but i can't complain. 75 measly bucks, my book-crazy, starving-artist friends! among them: john ashberry, elizabeth bishop, robert bly, gregory corso, robert creeley, allen ginsberg, louise gluck, donald justice, denise levertov, philip levine, robert lowell, frank o'hara, sylvia plath, adrienne rich, anne sexton, karl shapiro, charles simic.

i've yet to read it but it seems fairly promising.