Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Van and I watched the RSC production of King Lear at the New London Theatre. While I had high hopes for Gandalf in this one, I walked out of the theatre slightly disappointed with his performance. Perhaps this was only because Sylvester McCoy's Fool really did outshine Ian McKellen's overwrought Lear.
Van thought the Cordelia (Romola Garai) was shrill and annoying; I only thought she might have had a back problem as she kept stooping in a perverse and certainly unhealthy way.
Shakespeare being what it is, there were moments of brilliance in a sea of confusion; whatever Trevor Nunn was trying for in this eighteenth century pistol whippin' Lear, I just couldn't see it.
Labels: ian mckellen, london, review, theatre
Friday, March 23, 2007
Weekend at my place...
...up in Chester, that is. Van and I took the train up tonight and had a lovely hot dinner and watched the gray skies of London literally roll away.
Am finding myself spending less and less time in London. Plus ça change... it wasn't too long ago that I was out in the sticks in Basingstoke wishing I could spend more time in the capital. Only this time, I'm actually kind of enjoying my time with the HBOS project.
At least I can finally show Van the flat and walk the walls of Chester. I'm sure we'll find some other things to do as well.
Am finding myself spending less and less time in London. Plus ça change... it wasn't too long ago that I was out in the sticks in Basingstoke wishing I could spend more time in the capital. Only this time, I'm actually kind of enjoying my time with the HBOS project.
At least I can finally show Van the flat and walk the walls of Chester. I'm sure we'll find some other things to do as well.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Mister Brown strikes again
Here in the UK, Mister Gordon Brown is a man who lives next to Mister Tony Blair and plays with the money of everyone in the UK (except his own). Every year he sets something called a budget which tells us how much more money the government tries to claw from our wages and daily life. Every year Mister Chancellor pats himself on the back for a job well done and scolds us for trying to hide money from the tax man. Bad, bad, Mister Brown.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Lunatics and lunar eclipses
It's Monday in the office, and all everyone can talk about is the big company conference in Dubai on the beach. We all fly out on Wednesday; it's good to have something to look forward to; even better to have a week cut in half because of it.
Last friday was Karaoke night with the support folks. Anne J of support is, in Pinoy parlance, a belter. She and her (non-work) friend blasted out some Lady Marmalade duets and a few other numbers while the rest of us gamely did our bit and sang along with the usual anthems (Bohemian Rhapsody, et al).
photo by garyturner (flickr)
Over the weekend Van, Oli, Shine and I had dinner at a Burmese resto in Edgware Road with Andrew and Yusi's crew. After the last tapioca pudding and diet coke we staggered out in time to see the lunar eclipse starting with just the slightest hint of a shadow on the bottom edge of the full moon. By the time we bought the booze at London Bridge and headed over to Andrew's new flat, people finally managed to look up and notice it stealing halfway over the surface. It was a great night for it; the air was absolutely clear (by London standards) and the clouds didn't block the view at all.
Everyone but me drank wine; after a week of on-and-off inebriation I stuck to some peculiarly strong M&S gin and tonics. We laughed (appropriately enough) like lunatics, told stories to ward off the dark, and generally held vigil. Finally the last of the shadow disappeared; we had saved the world once again, and headed off for a well-deserved sleep.
Last friday was Karaoke night with the support folks. Anne J of support is, in Pinoy parlance, a belter. She and her (non-work) friend blasted out some Lady Marmalade duets and a few other numbers while the rest of us gamely did our bit and sang along with the usual anthems (Bohemian Rhapsody, et al).
photo by garyturner (flickr)Over the weekend Van, Oli, Shine and I had dinner at a Burmese resto in Edgware Road with Andrew and Yusi's crew. After the last tapioca pudding and diet coke we staggered out in time to see the lunar eclipse starting with just the slightest hint of a shadow on the bottom edge of the full moon. By the time we bought the booze at London Bridge and headed over to Andrew's new flat, people finally managed to look up and notice it stealing halfway over the surface. It was a great night for it; the air was absolutely clear (by London standards) and the clouds didn't block the view at all.
Everyone but me drank wine; after a week of on-and-off inebriation I stuck to some peculiarly strong M&S gin and tonics. We laughed (appropriately enough) like lunatics, told stories to ward off the dark, and generally held vigil. Finally the last of the shadow disappeared; we had saved the world once again, and headed off for a well-deserved sleep.
Labels: london
Friday, February 23, 2007
Why people lunch at their desks in London
So, my work mates and I decided to meet up at 1230 at the Moorgate Pizza Express on London Wall for lunch. When I booked the Bookings Man said "Pizza Express Moorgate". When I asked him if it was on London wall, he said, "Yes, we are on London wall."
Q: Which one of the following did we end up in?
A) is Pizza Express, Barbican London Wall.
C) is Pizza Express, London Wall Finsbury Park. Which I THOUGHT I had booked.
B) is Pizza Express, Moorgate London Wall. Which is actually FARTHER from Moorgate than C).
Which, since we work about 100m east of C), meant we had to leg it to the restaurant, shove our way to the front of the queue to get Reservations Girl to show us our table, order our starters, wines and mains in a single breath, then wait over half an hour for said starters and mains to materialize, get aggro from Reservations Girl because Bookings Man misspelled my name, and apparently another table for 6 had turned up, and NO you stupid cow, we did not steal their reservations; eat in about two point five seconds and then leg it back to the office.
Why are there so many damned Pizza Expresses anyway? They are the Starbucks of Pizza places, apparently opening in bursts of five at a time, so that tourists and the terminally uncool can get Dough Balls with their £10 Merlot.
/rant. Next time we'll order some pizza in and eat it in the server room. That'll show them.
Q: Which one of the following did we end up in?
A) is Pizza Express, Barbican London Wall.
C) is Pizza Express, London Wall Finsbury Park. Which I THOUGHT I had booked.
B) is Pizza Express, Moorgate London Wall. Which is actually FARTHER from Moorgate than C).
Which, since we work about 100m east of C), meant we had to leg it to the restaurant, shove our way to the front of the queue to get Reservations Girl to show us our table, order our starters, wines and mains in a single breath, then wait over half an hour for said starters and mains to materialize, get aggro from Reservations Girl because Bookings Man misspelled my name, and apparently another table for 6 had turned up, and NO you stupid cow, we did not steal their reservations; eat in about two point five seconds and then leg it back to the office.
Why are there so many damned Pizza Expresses anyway? They are the Starbucks of Pizza places, apparently opening in bursts of five at a time, so that tourists and the terminally uncool can get Dough Balls with their £10 Merlot.
/rant. Next time we'll order some pizza in and eat it in the server room. That'll show them.
Labels: london
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Kung Hei Batchoy
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INQUIRER.NET: Animal rights activists from the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, including one wearing a pig costume, hand out manuals on how to turn vegetarian in Manila's Chinatown Thursday ahead of the Chinese New Year. AFP/JAY DIRECTO
Chinese New Year here in London is usually accompanied by fireworks, lots of food, and one or two nights out with "the old crowd". Hannah emailed me recently to let me know of a party at Opium on Saturday. It would be good to see them again, some of whom I haven't seen since my engagement.
When I first started working in London Alex was practically the only guy I knew who would hang out. We hooked up with one of his uni friends, Song, who introduced me to Hannah, who took me to dimsum where I met Andrew, etc. etc. Social life in London: a giant Rube Goldberg machine with no end in sight. Perhaps, like most things, an end in itself.
Labels: london, random stuff
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Fireworks
Every so often, I am reminded of why we love the South Bank area and chose to live here. Tonight after a billiards session with Sunshine, we managed to catch a private fireworks display just off the OXO Tower. This was one of those every so oftens.
Sadly my battery froze up before I caught the grand finale. I have to say, whoever stumps up for a private fireworks display must like having money to, literally, burn.
Sadly my battery froze up before I caught the grand finale. I have to say, whoever stumps up for a private fireworks display must like having money to, literally, burn.
Labels: london, random stuff
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Airline security update: all your liquids are (still) belong to us
[news ¦ travel]
OK, so the ban on hand luggage has been lifted somewhat - people are now allowed to take on one (teensy) bag of essentials such as reading material and electronics. No such luck for drinks and toothpaste. In fact they still prohibit any kind of liquid, gel, paste, lotion, soup, syrup, perfume, etc... you get the idea.
Obligatory net-geist pic:
Heh. they mis-spelled muthafuckin'.
OK, so the ban on hand luggage has been lifted somewhat - people are now allowed to take on one (teensy) bag of essentials such as reading material and electronics. No such luck for drinks and toothpaste. In fact they still prohibit any kind of liquid, gel, paste, lotion, soup, syrup, perfume, etc... you get the idea.
Obligatory net-geist pic:
Heh. they mis-spelled muthafuckin'.
Friday, August 11, 2006
George Carlin and our latest terrorist scare.
Well, there you go. The terrorists have officially won. If the threat of violence to constrain or disrupt our lives is the hallmark of terrorism, then they've just scored their winning point.
Under instruction from the government, British airlines and airports have introduced draconian security measures for passengers after the uncovering of an alleged plot against passenger planes.
No electronics. No books. No magazines. No food or liquids. Nothing. No hand luggage. Nothing. No extra clothes for when the plane is cold, or snacks for when the food doesn't arrive, or perfumes or toiletries. No tooth brush (how will Van survive?). Nothing.
Kind of makes it not worth flying anymore, hey? No more travelling! GREAT. let's all just lock ourselves in our fucking expensive flats and watch Lost all day.
Seriously. Is this the world that you wanted to live in? A slow steady erosion of civil liberties and a sense of despair that, even were we to fly chained and naked with our mouths gagged, somehow we could STILL get blown up?
It's not the world I wanted to live in. This is like a nightmare I want to wake up from. I am reminded of that comedy sketch by George Carlin:
Under instruction from the government, British airlines and airports have introduced draconian security measures for passengers after the uncovering of an alleged plot against passenger planes.
No electronics. No books. No magazines. No food or liquids. Nothing. No hand luggage. Nothing. No extra clothes for when the plane is cold, or snacks for when the food doesn't arrive, or perfumes or toiletries. No tooth brush (how will Van survive?). Nothing.Kind of makes it not worth flying anymore, hey? No more travelling! GREAT. let's all just lock ourselves in our fucking expensive flats and watch Lost all day.
Seriously. Is this the world that you wanted to live in? A slow steady erosion of civil liberties and a sense of despair that, even were we to fly chained and naked with our mouths gagged, somehow we could STILL get blown up?
It's not the world I wanted to live in. This is like a nightmare I want to wake up from. I am reminded of that comedy sketch by George Carlin:
"The whole thing is fucking pointless... if you didn't bring a weapon on board, relax. After you've been flying for about an hour they give you a Knife and Fork... suppose you just had really Big Hands. couldn't you strangle a flight attendant? Shit, you could probably strangle two of them! One in each hand! You could get the job done, if YOU REALLY CARED ENOUGH....Sorry George. I wish it were otherwise, too.
...It's only there for one reason, the Illusion of Safety. Because the authorities know they can't make a plane completely safe. And by the way, an airplane flight shouldn't be completely safe! You need a little danger in your life, take a fucking chance once in a while!
...all of this airport security, the searches, the screenings, the cameras, the questions, all of this is just one more way of reducing your liberty and reminding you that they can Fuck with you any time they want, as long as you put up with it... because that's the way [we] are now, always willing to trade away a little freedom for the feeling, the Illusion of Security."
Labels: london
Monday, July 31, 2006
All yesterday's parties
[random stuff, london]
Got back from Budapest last Friday night, picked up Van and went to a housewarming party with some Filipino friends of friends. Most of those in attendance were also professionals or soon-to-be-professional grad students in London. None of us could get the professional-level Magic Mike above a score of 85. (Damn you and your low 60s, Magic Mike!)
A few of our guests still indulged in the "what school are you from" level of party conversation that I detest. Obviously, if you're not UP / Ateneo / La Salle, the golden Trifecta of higher education in the Philippines, the discussion moves quickly on. I foxed them with my outlandishly coño alma mater, CRC, a school so chic it's known publicly by an entirely different name.
That night our mains power was fried by an exposed wire that was burning through the insulation underneath our bathroom floor. Luckily Van heard the sparks and we managed to shut it down. We still have lights but no power save for the kitchen and have had to resort to an extension cord to keep the TV up and running. Screw life support, I want my Scrubs episodes!
The next day Van and I moved the bedroom furniture around and chucked out the slowly rising tide of cardboard boxes from all our wedding presents and various purchases of the last 6 months. What this means is that our bed now sits about 2 feet closer to the window, and we can see the night sky above the office buildings.
Saturday night we celebrated Yusi's birthday at Sin. Frequent snatches of déjà vu that night as we saw people from the old 2004 party crowd (Alan, Kevin, etc) mingling with Andrew's girlfriend's friends. Has it been two years already? Even the music seemed old, though we'd never heard it before.
Sunday we spent in the sun and shadows of Suburbia. The cafe, not actually outside town. It was nice. I also bought a new shirt & tie at Hawes and Curtis for £49... that, too, was nice, though only because Van got to fuss over my dress sense with the shirt seller man. Perhaps this is how the years pass; in a blur of coffee and sunlight and receipts for things you never intended to buy. We went home and I cooked a nicely turned roast pork and the evening sky grew metallic blue from our window and we turned in before the first stars came out.
That was our weekend.
Got back from Budapest last Friday night, picked up Van and went to a housewarming party with some Filipino friends of friends. Most of those in attendance were also professionals or soon-to-be-professional grad students in London. None of us could get the professional-level Magic Mike above a score of 85. (Damn you and your low 60s, Magic Mike!)
A few of our guests still indulged in the "what school are you from" level of party conversation that I detest. Obviously, if you're not UP / Ateneo / La Salle, the golden Trifecta of higher education in the Philippines, the discussion moves quickly on. I foxed them with my outlandishly coño alma mater, CRC, a school so chic it's known publicly by an entirely different name.
That night our mains power was fried by an exposed wire that was burning through the insulation underneath our bathroom floor. Luckily Van heard the sparks and we managed to shut it down. We still have lights but no power save for the kitchen and have had to resort to an extension cord to keep the TV up and running. Screw life support, I want my Scrubs episodes!
The next day Van and I moved the bedroom furniture around and chucked out the slowly rising tide of cardboard boxes from all our wedding presents and various purchases of the last 6 months. What this means is that our bed now sits about 2 feet closer to the window, and we can see the night sky above the office buildings.
* * *
Saturday night we celebrated Yusi's birthday at Sin. Frequent snatches of déjà vu that night as we saw people from the old 2004 party crowd (Alan, Kevin, etc) mingling with Andrew's girlfriend's friends. Has it been two years already? Even the music seemed old, though we'd never heard it before.
Sunday we spent in the sun and shadows of Suburbia. The cafe, not actually outside town. It was nice. I also bought a new shirt & tie at Hawes and Curtis for £49... that, too, was nice, though only because Van got to fuss over my dress sense with the shirt seller man. Perhaps this is how the years pass; in a blur of coffee and sunlight and receipts for things you never intended to buy. We went home and I cooked a nicely turned roast pork and the evening sky grew metallic blue from our window and we turned in before the first stars came out.
That was our weekend.
Labels: london, random stuff, travel
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Very Inebriated Persons
Went to the Hyde Park Calling festival on Saturday, which headlined Roger Waters and Texas along with a host of others (Starsailor and Suzanne Vega...). Van got three free tickets from her Amnesty connections - finally, a karmic reward! Not only were they free, they were VIP passes to Hard Rock Cafe's Ambassadors of Rock tent.
no, that's not what a castrated Roger Waters sounds like... or IS IT?
Oli, Van and I got to act like real Ambassadors - that is, eat, booze and generally lord it up for free. It was great ducking into the "booze tent" in between sets for some light refreshment (i.e., double amaretto sourz). We even saw England get booted out of the world cup from the comfort of our airconditioned digs. The only downside was missing Suzanne Vega's set because we came too late. Otherwise, it was a great taste of life on the other side.
no, that's not what a castrated Roger Waters sounds like... or IS IT?
Oli, Van and I got to act like real Ambassadors - that is, eat, booze and generally lord it up for free. It was great ducking into the "booze tent" in between sets for some light refreshment (i.e., double amaretto sourz). We even saw England get booted out of the world cup from the comfort of our airconditioned digs. The only downside was missing Suzanne Vega's set because we came too late. Otherwise, it was a great taste of life on the other side.
Labels: london
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
the Coin Street Cuban Festival
Monday, April 10, 2006
Shoot Shoreditch
[tag: _random stuff]
A Shed in Shoreditch! (shame it's shagged to sh**)
Oliver invited us to take part in the Shoot Shoreditch photographic treasure hunt. Much fun and walking about ensues. Team "kodakan" (me, Van, Oli and late addition Alison) pounded the streets of East London. The goal was to decipher 14 "clues" from the cluesheet and tramp around Hoxton and Shoreditch taking photos.
It was a shrewd and canny promotional exercise that was also great fun. We especially liked the knowing smiles on random people's faces when we were walking along with our cameras and maps in hand. "Have you done (clue whose answer was another no name pub somewhere near Brick Lane :-) yet?" was the catchphrase of the day. In the end we got all but three correct, which was quite an achievement considering the ground we had to cover and the shortness of our legs...
For sooth, 'tis a Clue!
We had a great time right up until the sunshine finally stopped and icy rain started hammering us from all directions. Luckily we still made it back in time (and even shot all 14 locations).
Perhaps the only disappointing bit was that the judging took so damn long, we eventually decided to leave before the winners were announced and gave ourselves our own consolation prizes - lovely Vietnamese food at Song Que. Now that was worth waiting for.
after party: with Tallulah Rendall @Cargo
A Shed in Shoreditch! (shame it's shagged to sh**)Oliver invited us to take part in the Shoot Shoreditch photographic treasure hunt. Much fun and walking about ensues. Team "kodakan" (me, Van, Oli and late addition Alison) pounded the streets of East London. The goal was to decipher 14 "clues" from the cluesheet and tramp around Hoxton and Shoreditch taking photos.
It was a shrewd and canny promotional exercise that was also great fun. We especially liked the knowing smiles on random people's faces when we were walking along with our cameras and maps in hand. "Have you done (clue whose answer was another no name pub somewhere near Brick Lane :-) yet?" was the catchphrase of the day. In the end we got all but three correct, which was quite an achievement considering the ground we had to cover and the shortness of our legs...
For sooth, 'tis a Clue!We had a great time right up until the sunshine finally stopped and icy rain started hammering us from all directions. Luckily we still made it back in time (and even shot all 14 locations).
Perhaps the only disappointing bit was that the judging took so damn long, we eventually decided to leave before the winners were announced and gave ourselves our own consolation prizes - lovely Vietnamese food at Song Que. Now that was worth waiting for.
after party: with Tallulah Rendall @CargoLabels: london
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Crossing the threshold
[tags: _random stuff ¦ _news]
Last night, with a handful of salt and a handful of rice each, Van and I blessed our new apartment.
It's taken over twelve weeks of hard work, endless phone calls with the solicitors, and over five weeks sleeping on a couch bed in Andrew's apartment (for which we are forever grateful), but now we've finally got a place of our own to call home. And what a fantastic place it is - right smack in the middle of the South Bank and Bankside areas, about fifty feet away from the river.
Today I took a day off work, intending to get started on the cleaning and clearing out of the rubbish in the flat (it was repossessed), but instead findng myself moving in slow motion, just basking in the glow of ownership. It's so different this time. After the entire mortgage and purchase process, to have a place that is truly yours.
Last night, after placing a small pinch of salt and rice in each of the room, we cracked open some beers, put up our feet and watched some TV. It was a night like any others. In our flat.
Last night, with a handful of salt and a handful of rice each, Van and I blessed our new apartment.
It's taken over twelve weeks of hard work, endless phone calls with the solicitors, and over five weeks sleeping on a couch bed in Andrew's apartment (for which we are forever grateful), but now we've finally got a place of our own to call home. And what a fantastic place it is - right smack in the middle of the South Bank and Bankside areas, about fifty feet away from the river.
Today I took a day off work, intending to get started on the cleaning and clearing out of the rubbish in the flat (it was repossessed), but instead findng myself moving in slow motion, just basking in the glow of ownership. It's so different this time. After the entire mortgage and purchase process, to have a place that is truly yours.
Last night, after placing a small pinch of salt and rice in each of the room, we cracked open some beers, put up our feet and watched some TV. It was a night like any others. In our flat.
Friday, October 28, 2005
More chilled now...
[tags: _random stuff]
Am on a couch in the "More Champagne" bar near London Bridge which serves a delicious jamon serrano breakfast, drinking coffee and blogging. It's like being in my living room, with requisite flatscreen TV, but with hordes of Londoners trudging past my (floor to ceiling) windows.
Sick again, fighting the hordes of London germs with megadoses of antihistamines, paracetamol and VITamin C (not VYtamin C, natch). Permanently unfashionable thanks to the Vicks inhaler grafted onto my right nostril.
We're living with Andrew and Winnie now, the odd couple, not a couple at all but definitely odd. I've been harrassing the property lawyers for weeks trying to rush the completion process, it's all sort of stalled at the moment. Which is not good at all.
On the plus side, living in London is proving to be everything I hoped it would be - both for Van and me. On the minus side, I just want this whole purchase ordeal to be over.
Oh, and it was my birthday last Tuesday. Good times. I might actually survive this week.
Am on a couch in the "More Champagne" bar near London Bridge which serves a delicious jamon serrano breakfast, drinking coffee and blogging. It's like being in my living room, with requisite flatscreen TV, but with hordes of Londoners trudging past my (floor to ceiling) windows.
Sick again, fighting the hordes of London germs with megadoses of antihistamines, paracetamol and VITamin C (not VYtamin C, natch). Permanently unfashionable thanks to the Vicks inhaler grafted onto my right nostril.
We're living with Andrew and Winnie now, the odd couple, not a couple at all but definitely odd. I've been harrassing the property lawyers for weeks trying to rush the completion process, it's all sort of stalled at the moment. Which is not good at all.
On the plus side, living in London is proving to be everything I hoped it would be - both for Van and me. On the minus side, I just want this whole purchase ordeal to be over.
Oh, and it was my birthday last Tuesday. Good times. I might actually survive this week.
Labels: london
Monday, October 24, 2005
Running on empty
Absolutely exhausted today. Nearly zoned out on the A3 - not good. This weekend we camped out on Hazel & Tony's living room floor near Canary Wharf; tonight we'll be moving to chez Andrew for about a week.
Friday we cleaned up everything from the flat - down to the last speck of dust, smear of grease and lint on the carpet - and handed over our keys to the letting agent. Goodbye Surbiton; I won't dwell on it much because we've been saying goodbye for so long it'sbecome tiresome. Moved to Hazel's place and drank beers and jammed with Tony Friday night.
What really did us in was the weekend. Nanette was over and we met her up in Canary Wharf before heading to Bobi R's house for the annual UK student party. More on which later. Then it was off to Covent Garden for Edna's leaving do drinks.
Finally got home to the flat at about 1 am, where we introduced Van to Monopoly, and ended up playing until 6 in the morning Sunday. Hazel whipped our collective asses (arses?) but only after my spirited defense sitting on the brown block collapsed. Life can be hard when you owe £20M in rent.
All of this meant that Sunday was a write off - I practically sleepwalked through the day. Hazel brought us to a Filipino book launch in Waterloo; some vanity project by a socialite with more friends than talent. I did like the sushi though. Then mass, then back home where we had some of Hazel's PLDT friends over for dinner. Then bed at 11pm.
Even this would have been OK, if I didn't have to wake up at 6 in the morning today for work. My tank's practically empty right now, and I'm scared of having one more coffee after the three I've already inhaled. Thank god it's nearly 5 pm.
Zzzz.
Friday we cleaned up everything from the flat - down to the last speck of dust, smear of grease and lint on the carpet - and handed over our keys to the letting agent. Goodbye Surbiton; I won't dwell on it much because we've been saying goodbye for so long it'sbecome tiresome. Moved to Hazel's place and drank beers and jammed with Tony Friday night.
What really did us in was the weekend. Nanette was over and we met her up in Canary Wharf before heading to Bobi R's house for the annual UK student party. More on which later. Then it was off to Covent Garden for Edna's leaving do drinks.
Finally got home to the flat at about 1 am, where we introduced Van to Monopoly, and ended up playing until 6 in the morning Sunday. Hazel whipped our collective asses (arses?) but only after my spirited defense sitting on the brown block collapsed. Life can be hard when you owe £20M in rent.
All of this meant that Sunday was a write off - I practically sleepwalked through the day. Hazel brought us to a Filipino book launch in Waterloo; some vanity project by a socialite with more friends than talent. I did like the sushi though. Then mass, then back home where we had some of Hazel's PLDT friends over for dinner. Then bed at 11pm.
Even this would have been OK, if I didn't have to wake up at 6 in the morning today for work. My tank's practically empty right now, and I'm scared of having one more coffee after the three I've already inhaled. Thank god it's nearly 5 pm.
Zzzz.
Labels: london
Monday, October 03, 2005
eclipsed
Here are a few photos of today's partial solar eclipse. I'm so happy to have captured one, finally, even though it's not a full-on blackout.
Been really busy juggling work and the flat purchase, so I'll be observing radio silence for a while. One thing of note though - my 3rd year in the UK is coming up. Yehey!Labels: london
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Eye in the sky
You couldn't have asked for better weather in London last weekend; summer is finally picking up where it left off a month ago; though it's still chilly in the shade.
On Friday we arranged a despedida for anj on the London Eye; we had been on it once before but this was her first time. The sun came out an hour before we queued up and the view was fantastic. Apart from the odd residential skyscraper poking into the air like an ugly steel finger, the London skyline is decidedly low-rise. As you lift up above Charing Cross station and the West End you can see all the way south to Wimbledon; west to the Kew Gardens and Richmond; north to the Hampstead Heath and east to the Docklands. We carried cameras like experienced gunslingers and I truly appreciated having a wide angle lens at this point; I could take in the entire capsule and make the most out of the high vantage point.
this is NOT my wide angle camera. But it's nice anyway.
Afterwards we walked the south bank with Moncho, Nanet and some other friends and drank and ate by the river, the weekend stretching out before us with possibility. As it turned out, the entire weekend was a succession of drinks, lying about lazily in the Sun; and killing time with friends. It almost made me forget that I was being evicted from the flat by my landlord.
Yes, isn't London great? the city that gave birth to leasehold ownership also invented the concept of the property ladder. The upshot of this is that Van and I are now "on the market", as they say. But I could have done without the time pressure.
On Friday we arranged a despedida for anj on the London Eye; we had been on it once before but this was her first time. The sun came out an hour before we queued up and the view was fantastic. Apart from the odd residential skyscraper poking into the air like an ugly steel finger, the London skyline is decidedly low-rise. As you lift up above Charing Cross station and the West End you can see all the way south to Wimbledon; west to the Kew Gardens and Richmond; north to the Hampstead Heath and east to the Docklands. We carried cameras like experienced gunslingers and I truly appreciated having a wide angle lens at this point; I could take in the entire capsule and make the most out of the high vantage point.
this is NOT my wide angle camera. But it's nice anyway.Afterwards we walked the south bank with Moncho, Nanet and some other friends and drank and ate by the river, the weekend stretching out before us with possibility. As it turned out, the entire weekend was a succession of drinks, lying about lazily in the Sun; and killing time with friends. It almost made me forget that I was being evicted from the flat by my landlord.
Yes, isn't London great? the city that gave birth to leasehold ownership also invented the concept of the property ladder. The upshot of this is that Van and I are now "on the market", as they say. But I could have done without the time pressure.
Labels: london
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Talking to Terrorists
Last night we went to see Out of Joint's production of Robin Soans' Talking to Terrorists at the Royal Court in Sloane Square. I honestly didn't know what to expect as I'd only agreed to come at the last minute and wasn't sure whether I would be open to having politics thrust into my face that evening. Turns out, I needn't have worried at all.
The play was very sparse, almost minimalist; a series of concrete slabs flanking the stage and a set of tables and chairs being moved round constituted scenery. Eight actors played a dizzying variety of characters on both sides: terrorists, child soldiers, aid workers and politicians. All gave documentary-style, audience-forward accounts of their experiences, or else made quick cameos into others' stories. At one point an unnamed Irish bomber is juxtaposed in prison with the accounts of his intended victims. Another one sees a (hilarious) ex-ambassador being one-upped by his dancer wife.
"Talking to Terrorists" opened just 3 days before the London bombings, and the words of one of the characters seem almost prescient: "We'll have system failure", in bureaucratese predicting a major incident in London itself. I've never watched a play under more timely circumstances. Still, the experience was strangely hollow, a taste in the mouth but no fullness in the stomach.
The play was so determinedly apolitical and straight faced that it dodged all of the obvious pitfalls - sympathy for the terrorists, melodrama on the victims' part, and contempt for the political establishment. However in playing so straight to the "verbatim theatre" mold it also lost any sense of plot, forward motion, or dramatic conclusion. Sometimes I wished the actors would actually act WITH each other, instead of at the invisible camera I assume they were declaiming to. The monologues were brilliant and the actors faultless, but I found myself thinking "was that it?" as the lights came up and the crowd filed out of the theatre.
The play was very sparse, almost minimalist; a series of concrete slabs flanking the stage and a set of tables and chairs being moved round constituted scenery. Eight actors played a dizzying variety of characters on both sides: terrorists, child soldiers, aid workers and politicians. All gave documentary-style, audience-forward accounts of their experiences, or else made quick cameos into others' stories. At one point an unnamed Irish bomber is juxtaposed in prison with the accounts of his intended victims. Another one sees a (hilarious) ex-ambassador being one-upped by his dancer wife.
"Talking to Terrorists" opened just 3 days before the London bombings, and the words of one of the characters seem almost prescient: "We'll have system failure", in bureaucratese predicting a major incident in London itself. I've never watched a play under more timely circumstances. Still, the experience was strangely hollow, a taste in the mouth but no fullness in the stomach.
The play was so determinedly apolitical and straight faced that it dodged all of the obvious pitfalls - sympathy for the terrorists, melodrama on the victims' part, and contempt for the political establishment. However in playing so straight to the "verbatim theatre" mold it also lost any sense of plot, forward motion, or dramatic conclusion. Sometimes I wished the actors would actually act WITH each other, instead of at the invisible camera I assume they were declaiming to. The monologues were brilliant and the actors faultless, but I found myself thinking "was that it?" as the lights came up and the crowd filed out of the theatre.
Labels: london
Monday, August 01, 2005
British weather 1, Partygoers 1 - everybody wins.
Last weekend Van and I threw a party at the house, ostensibly to celebrate our engagement but really, any excuse would have done. It was the first time we had people over in ages and many of them were people whom we had gotten to know in London over the past year.
Angela came over early to help us set up what was supposed to be a barbecue in the main garden. The rain held off for most of the afternoon and we were already feeling quite optimistic and had brought out the tables and disposable barbie. I lit the starter cube and, in a John Candy film moment, the rain started to pour down just as lighter touched strange-burning-chemical-thing. We beat a hasty retreat indoors and threw the chicken and other food into the oven.
As it turns out, the rain only dampened the evening's festivities a little bit. Raj and the others came well stocked with bottles and more meat for the grill/oven, we broke out the guitars (I had 2, Ariel and his friends had 1) and indulged in an old fashioned sing along.
We were a bit worried that our loud renditions of pinoy pop songs might be reported as strange cultish activity by the neighbors, but thankfully no one called the cops on us. It turned out to be an extremely fun and totally relaxed night - though I never did get to use that Monopoly set we bought, dammit.
Later in the night Hazel came round with Tony the new boyfriend and his pal Simon. Sy works as a sound engineer, so we talked a bit about the bands we've been in and how tough it was to just play music for a living - you tend to not get paid, and the glamour of being a "struggling artist" wears thin fairly quickly.
We finished off the night in smokes and cold hamburgers and crawled into bed slightly drunk. Moncho lent me his PSP which I hammered away at till 430 in the morning playing Wipeout Pure. Talk about happy endings.
Angela came over early to help us set up what was supposed to be a barbecue in the main garden. The rain held off for most of the afternoon and we were already feeling quite optimistic and had brought out the tables and disposable barbie. I lit the starter cube and, in a John Candy film moment, the rain started to pour down just as lighter touched strange-burning-chemical-thing. We beat a hasty retreat indoors and threw the chicken and other food into the oven.
As it turns out, the rain only dampened the evening's festivities a little bit. Raj and the others came well stocked with bottles and more meat for the grill/oven, we broke out the guitars (I had 2, Ariel and his friends had 1) and indulged in an old fashioned sing along.
We were a bit worried that our loud renditions of pinoy pop songs might be reported as strange cultish activity by the neighbors, but thankfully no one called the cops on us. It turned out to be an extremely fun and totally relaxed night - though I never did get to use that Monopoly set we bought, dammit.
Later in the night Hazel came round with Tony the new boyfriend and his pal Simon. Sy works as a sound engineer, so we talked a bit about the bands we've been in and how tough it was to just play music for a living - you tend to not get paid, and the glamour of being a "struggling artist" wears thin fairly quickly.
We finished off the night in smokes and cold hamburgers and crawled into bed slightly drunk. Moncho lent me his PSP which I hammered away at till 430 in the morning playing Wipeout Pure. Talk about happy endings.
Labels: london
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