The Late Bookworm

As most of you know, Karl serves as my reading program adviser. Last Thursday, he observed that I'm not going through books quickly these days. So he asked me, now that I have read many different styles, what kind of books I enjoyed. This just stumped me. I gave some half-assed answer, but in truth I don't exactly know.

I guess I'm just a pastiche kind of girl, you know? (I'm been loving the word since Karl used it to describe the Young Modern album). In different aspects of my taste, I can't decide on a specific genre as my favorite. In fashion, I'm drawn to both the bold and the quiet, nostalgic and modern, youthful and mature, traditional and unconvential, polished and deconstructed, ornate and sparse. In music, it's the same thing. Although I must say it's common for people to like bits and pieces of different styles.

The difference between fashion and music on one hand and literature on the other, is that with the earlier, I can make up my mind. But if we were in a bookstore and you asked me if I wanted to buy a book, I probably wouldn't be able to give you an opinion. Worse, I actually judge books by their covers. Karl taught me that it would help to read not only the synopsis, but also the first page, just so I could get a feel of the author's style. It usually doesn't work.

It's even more difficult to form opinions on authors, especially because the publishing industry is (ironically) not highly publicized. So how did Karl find out that Jonathan Lethem was some sort of publishers' darling? No idea. I read "Gun with Occasional Music" -- it sucks.

But I am starting to define what I like and what I don't. I definitely do not like Paolo Coelho anymore because he's got sappy, almost didactic stories. I enjoy Neil Gaiman's kind of romance and emotion. I find it pointless, generally, but not completely, to read fiction written in a conversational tone, or what I call "common language". Hmmm, what else? I love an intellectual challenge, like Umberto Eco. I usually don’t' get it when the plot is slow or ambiguous, like when reading Banana Yoshimoto. But that's just proof that my taste isn't sophisticated. Another piece of evidence? I virtually have not re-read anything in my life.

It's never too late, right? Just keep the books coming.

the shopping gods

The shopping gods have it in for me.

Last week I bought a pair of purple denim jeans at P1649. My sister was saying they were not as cheap as she would like them to be, so she didn't get one in her size. Today she is frantically hopping from mall to mall to get not just a purple pair, but also a red one. At only P989 each. FUCK.

This also happened to me last season. My sister bought petite wide-leg trousers at 50 percent off, buy one, take one. A week or so after, first day of the month, I was trying to get the same pair. They were still half-price, but no buy one, take one promo. AND, they were NOT petite. Had to go to the tailor to have them cut.

I guess my sister has good shopping luck because she works so hard at it. Daily walks to MOA across wide roads isn't exactly easy. And she always makes time to look around even if she's only passing through a mall to get to a train station (P250 bags from Metropoint Taft, anyone?). I personally calculate my exposure to temptation. She's also probably being rewarded for the healthy amount she spends weekly. They're like indulgences in the church. The church of shopping.

A while ago, while my sister was calling up mango, I was actually praying to the gods that her jean size not turn up in any branch today, but clearly they don't listen to me. Fine. Anoint your chosen one.

I guess this means I'm evil

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expired thoughts and googling yourself

so karl asks me why this thing rarely has new entries any more. and the answer is because i'm able to express my thoughts to someone (usually him) before I ever get to this venue. by then I guess they're just expired.

so today I got a fresh idea that I haven't told anyone because I was running off to commute home as I got it, and I've still got about two to three hours before karl calls. (as an aside, this reminds me of kevyn aucoin teasing jennifer lopez that she hasn't had a clever idea in months. file under: waiting for tonight video)

and that thought would be: don't blog about people who you'd hate to give the satisfaction of knowing you wrote about them.

this was prompted by my google escapade on "tabloid lite," karl's band (and this post will inevitably find its way to the very list i was looking for). I found several people who publicized their gigs, all of which karl and I have viewed together. But there was one we hadn't visited and i was surprised after the jump. There was a guy we met during the said event, and was all alone. He fervently chatted us up until his friends arrived. He blogged about his experience.

I thought this guy was suspicious, but in only in a benign way. Now I've validated this impression, as he labeled me a poet-Band-Aid (excuse me, my words were "plus one." Reev knows the proper context of calling me a Band-Aid) and described me as tall (yep, all 5'2" of me), shapely (I was wearing a waistless dress) and with a pout that wouldn't quit (maybe he saw me when Kris Lacaba put all his weight into his size 11 foot and landed on my size 6 peds.).

Ok, so not that I'm saying that he actually cares that I read his public journal, but it sure reminds me to sanitize my wares before airing them.

when did silverchair grow up?!?!

I recently heard a clip of Silverchair's new single on NU. To me, the song sounded reminiscent of the 1980s, almost like the Police. That prompted me to visit their website, which had a very good surprise: you can listen to virtually the whole album "Young Modern" there (I'm probably onto the eighth full song right now).

So here's the deal: I thought everything would sound like that 80s-ish single. But it doesn't! The songs are diverse. I mean, when did they stop being the grunge kids? When did Daniel stop sulking? When did he stop growling and when did he develop that vocal range? When did they start learning to appropriate so many different sounds into their songs? While many amateurish musicians prefer to learn 3 to 5 chords and just be content with using those meager tools for their limited ambitions, they've expanded their repertoire immensely! (As an aside, this is what I discussed with Karl and Reev before, that skilled musicians e.g. Cynthia Alexandre, can learn about traditional Indian music structures or whatever challenging musical foray they might face and turn it into songs that the populace can appreciate). Instead of surrendering to today's simplistic disco-tinged or emo sounds (shame on you, Chris Cornell), they still have a dense, layered sound that 90s kids are used to. And instead of something that's just plain loud or aggressive, they're lush. Grabe, pang-Paste Magazine!!!!

It's really amazing how this whole transformation happened without me being able to detect it. That's probably because I didn't listen to the previous album, Diorama. But it's almost like a proud moment -- I had a crush on Daniel Johns just because he was drop-dead handsome, and here he is proving that he's more than just a Brad Renfro-look-alike (although I must say he lost some, no, a lot, of that boyish charm) . And he's only 27. Talk about peaking early.

Anyway, I guess I just feel great about being excited about new music again.

I am not a Blogger

I hope the powers that be don't pull the web-hosting rug from under my feet.

My teammates and I went to a Blogger event last night - free dinner for 100 bloggers at Taste of Asia. Now I really wanted to experience eating at that restaurant, which is why I tagged along. I understand that SM agreed to feed about 200 people in order to generate a couple hundred posts on different sites about their business venture. So here's my token post, just to say that the law of marketing and public relations actually works.

Unfortunately, I didn't get an authentic experience of the multicultural dampa that it is. We had a buffet, and that's about it. I was fed well though. Oniony shawarma, sodium-laden fried wantons, a mini cuapao, sisig, fish and chips, menthol-laced sprite, fruit shakes and bottled water. The service was very good, but the food was hardly memorable.

Anyway, I must say though I most likely will never go to a blogger event again. I don't view this site as a public medium (yes, so get out of here if you don't know me personally) and it's pretty awkward to discuss it or theories about catering to an audience as if it were one of my old broadcasting classes. It's also quite amusing to see most of the attendees with lenses stuck onto their faces, documenting the event. I just find it more enjoyable if people had proper designations in the whole party politics bit.

What I DID enjoy about the evening though was this clique booth thingamajig, which is basically a glorified foto-me. And gabbing all night about flings. And meeting very normal and well-adjusted gay couples.