saturday

I went to Zara and bought a couple of swimming trunks for just over a fiver. True bargain is difficult to say NO to.



This is the second APPLE store in town. Is this another H&M, Zara and Starbucks populating the City?



... and the bike stations all over London. Now, who wants to be healthy?

yours for 275 pounds

After 60% off, this jacket is still a luxury.
I don't think I see myself wearing one of these, this winter.

lovers

Oh lovers!

On my way to RCN (Royal College of Nursing) to return the books I borrowed, across me are young lovers who at the infancy of their relationship epitomises the quality of sweetness and passion. The gaze of love and the tender touch make me look away but like magnet, I am drawn towards them. There is a difference between an overt, lustful snog and tender, affectionate kisses. The latter is done with strict oblivion of the elements around the kissing party. However, the less emotional public display tends to be fueled by danger and challenge. The ones who are too much in love couldn't care less. They're far happier to look each other in the eye and drown themselves with that elixir of love.

As the woman indicates time to get off the bus, the man's face is a picture of ache like he is about to pay for an item that's not on sale. Yes, it is that look of mix gratification and impatience. She waves him goodbye and he forces himself a half-baked smile. For a second, his face lights up for a moment of reminiscing. He attempts to remind himself of the details of his past days' rendezvous with his lover. A few more seconds and he sinks to an utter forced depression. His mobile phone rings and in split second, he forgets the pain of being alone.

"Tell me when you're free next?". Pause. He listens intently to her reply. "Is he not going away for business?". Pause. He heaves the deepest sigh of a lover in despair.

I had this conversation with a friend few weeks ago. The world has evolved and has become more social friendly. It now helps even the most recluse find ways to communicate with people without compromising inherent lack of social skills. It also augments the power that those who are skilled enough to hold a conversation in a more social environment, to the hilt. The end result is higher divorce rates and heartbreaks.

At this moment, the basicity of emotions of falling in love over again is real. Although unacceptable in moral and social standards, the instinct of finding love is beautiful.

crazy good

This past week was a crazy good one.

I only categorise my working condition in one word: crazy. The sub-categories however range widely from the whole gamut of emotional responses and dictionary of adjectives to the use and abuse of punctuation e.g. crazy dull, crazy!!!!!! and the likes. This past week was crazy good. This description is not imaginative enough but would suffice to fit in tension and excitement.



From Monday to Thursday, I was doing RTTC (Releasing Time To Care) covering the whole Guy's hospital. My remit was to make sure that the PSAG (Patient Status At a Glance) boards were used properly in all of the inpatient wards as part of the Trust-wide roll out of this project. It was busy but purposeful. I met people from other directorates who I never imagined to have existed before. It was fun to deliver impromptu IPE (Inter-professional) teaching sessions as if you're a rather important person. Suddenly, my email circulation was in bulk sent to hundreds of staff of varying stature. If there's one thing I became extremely conscious about was my grammar in every email I sent out. I got rid of my customary ellipsis in between statements; same with my email background that used to be light brown against the blue texts. In four days, I grew up from being imaginatively strange to an adult.

Friday came and I was summoned back to playing a wounded Crimean soldier. This time however, it was more of a big league production. The venue was the Central Hall of St. Thomas' where at lunchtime, the hallway resembles that of Oxford Street minus the traffic sign. I've never felt so exposed in my entire life. But then again, shy is the word I find too easy to define that it doesn't scare me anymore. In fact, the word social is too intimidating to learn that I try to practise it with so much gusto hoping that someday I'd learn the craft of being timid.




OK. That is digressing from the main point about defining my week that just whizzed me by.

After work, I suddenly had a craving for sushi or anything fishy. My colleague said that he once tried eating fish where the poor animal was still breathing through its gills on the plate. That didn't put me off dinner but was thoroughly disappointed with Feng Sushi restaurant. It was pricey (Borough Market) but was understandable for its location. It proves that being social is more important that physical nourishment. The people around you, feed you more than enough to allay your anxiety-laden self. The last time I checked, belongingness according to Maslow is still a need.




OK. I am digressing yet again. But the week's been crazy good. It means being productive and challenging yet not physically fulfilling. It defeats the reason why Nursing is a vocation. It becomes an art form. Also, my Friday afterwork routine has drastically changed. This is just in keeping harmony with the past crazy good week. Routine is tip-top (according to an OCB) but a diversion road gives you new visuals. It adds to your fresh perspectives.

I guess that sushi place was expensive because I still savour the sea and its creatures inside my mouth. A seemingly new experience lasts longer than usual.

retrospection part trois

Yesterday was our Anniversary (Bo and I). Truly strange for it was my ex-husband's birthday. That is however, another long story. I am usually a sucker for celebrations. I'd wish for a special occasion everyday if I have the power to sanction it. But yesterday's event was long overdue. I barely remember the last anniversary ... or the last time I celebrated birthdays with people I care about. Although it was reasonably special as far as I recall, the patterns of excitement and expectation have been the same.

This anniversary is something I totally lost track of. If not for my partner's last minute reminder, I wouldn't think the 27th of July special enough except for that consultation session I have to facilitate on the day and the free posh lunch that would follow. In the morning, he said "Make yourself free in the afternoon. I will meet you in town". That's the first, I thought.

One of the best parts of this celebration is the let's-see-if-you-know-your-partner-well-with-the-gift-you'd-get-him. As ever, the surprise element is not something we are elated about. It is in fact the surprise element that makes the gift-giving cold rather than warm. That's just the pragmatic and the intuitive in both of us.

Few hours later after the gifts and dinner and oh, Bo's YouTube song dedication on Facebook (Beyonce's "Flaws and All"), we had a row about flaws... Yea, flaws.



The risotto al pesce was half cooked and the trentino pizza was half arsed (Bo's choice of word - I was planning to use the word "insipid"). The cheese garlic bread was lacking in ... cheese. The drinks didn't come on time (the waiter needed a prompt) and with all these, the discretionary 12.5% was mentally rubbed off the receipt.

Like everything else in this world, nothing is perfect. I just have to remind myself that although Bo and I are a bunch of contradictions and imperfections, multiplying two negatives yield something positive. Math is a good life teacher. Aside from possibilities, it's also good in finding certainties.

Bo's pride and joy

my new toy

Selfridges
Men's floor
Accessories department
Originally priced at 159 pounds
Reduced to 59

You fell in love at first sight
You tried to remain practical
You wanted to be sensible (it would be the 8th wrist watch)

Would you buy it?

The Idiot won over the Wise.

sadomasochism

I don't know but I actually enjoyed ripping out these bundles of bodily hair. The swearing, squirming and screaming were sounds of joy affirming my authority and great hold of this man's psyche.

I loved it!

love yourself

I work better on my own. I am also a good team player but I have noticed that I value my decisions greatly, that working on my own seems a better idea. My productivity level goes up and my decision-making skills are sharper. That's exactly how I managed to stay afloat in achieving today's gargantuan tasks. Now these statements are grandiose and self indulgent. But I just love the sound of self gloating. It makes me realise my own potentials; makes me see the overarching efficacy that's beyond what is usually expected of me and what is alloted as my own limitation in an endeavour.

Today, I have had a productive day at work and I did it on my own.

time

Meet Gehrie

He is one of those who likes the letter "H" too much that they mix it in with their nicknames. Also, I call him a "marmite". It's either you like him or you don't. I get along well with him but others obviously don't see what I see in him. His favourite line: "Why am I not liked Ryan?".

I just grin mysteriously.

inside the porta-loo

This is an OCB's nightmare. If you are planning to attend music festivals and any sort of mass gathering in the park, try carrying an alcohol gel with you. They do come handy.

Have a peek at Britain's portable loo:

my neurosis

I am seriously knackered, I can hear the Idiot and the Wise arguing about setting prioritisations inside my head. The Idiot says "be lazy" while the Wise argues, "pretend to be busy at work".

Inside the tube, a young woman gets so much attention for wearing a really short sundress. You can see the heat emanating from the men's eyes as they ogle the poor girl like their favorite footie team (or worse, their favorite meal). The man with a backside who can put Nadal to shame is getting his fair share of attention from the ladies (young and old) and men (gay and straight). He looks like Joe Cole (try googling that name) minus the WAG attached to the hips. But I doubt if he's talented. He looks like some banker who got tired of wearing his suit this blistering summer spell. They are the beautiful people in this carriage.

It is true that when your mind and body become tired, you resort to things that are easy to digest and absorb. Mentally, it is less cumbersome to appreciate beauty of people than wondering if that Indian girl across me burying herself in "The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's Nest" is enjoying the suspense whilst the man sitting next to her reads the book over her shoulder.

The Wise insists, "Go nod off and shut off for a while". The Idiot carries on watching people waiting for a MOMENT to happen like a gossipmonger in Sherlock mode. "You fuckin' pervert!", the woman exclaims as she exits the carriage leaving a sharp look at the man behind her.

How NOT to vanish into oblivion (The McFly Lesson)

Try to target the GAY COMMUNITY...

TGIS at TGIF

I'm trying to be productive. This weekend, I have decided to bring home some work related stuff. I have a reference letter to do and minutes of the staff investigation conducted a week ago. Also, I have to meet with a work colleague for his management programme assignments. I don't understand why I have to do this. But it seems like my week is becoming a target-laden event where I scramble in meeting them. Hence the need to work on some of it at home. It is not ideal but for my sanity's sake, I might as well.

To keep me organised, I have started using my phone recorder to remind me of things to do. Someone suggested that I use calendar for alarms and reminders. However, I find recording things more task specific, easy to do, faster and most of all, allows that self grandeur and gratification. It's good to hear ones voice in the comfort of your home as if you are one important person. Let's say it's an ego thing.

These recordings are not as efficient as the calendar when it comes to reminding one when to act and work on a certain project or assignment. But making it a habit certainly helps the process. It has proven to be very effective but the only downside is the action part of it. I'm still lacking that motivation to work on things in advance.

Organisation is my weakest point as a member of the working society or as a person in general. I still miss important meetings with friends and get the flak for it. Today however, who says helping a colleague re: essays and portfolio, has to be that boring? Free dinner and cafe/tea table-hogging seem like a fun way of mixing socials with work.

how NOT to work in retail

Steve Jobs and his team finally succumbed to the masses. The iPhone4 signalling problem has finally reached boiling point. Upon Steve's announcement that all iPhone4 users be given free "bumper" (case that helps avoid interfering with the signal), I decided to visit APPLE UK store in Regent Street, London to claim the said case. I was met with a snarl. This particular pasty looking staff when asked about this free bumper gave a rather vague instruction on how to acquire it. I had to pry it out of him with a steel bar, taking all the info out of his glaring ala nasi.

Eventually, it made sense. I downloaded the request from the APP STORE and chose the bumper I liked. See below the details of this order from the email they sent me:

Order Confirmation

Dear Rian Mayor,

We are pleased to send you this order confirmation containing details of your order.

Your web order number is WR000599234, this is an important reference number.
Should you have any further queries, you will need to quote this reference number.



How long will my order take?

We estimate your order to be shipped by 30 Aug, 2010.
We expect your order will arrive by post to your shipping address on or before 01 Sep, 2010.

NOTE:: Once your order has dispatched, you will receive a Notification email, which may contain an updated expected delivery date for your order.

dissolved

We do important things in life that could either make or break us. I finally received the DISSOLUTION OF CIVIL PARTNERSHIP document from Brighton County Court few days ago. The breakdown of marriage broke us but through time, we both learned a valuable lesson and moved on from it. I'm glad that we both are in happy places now.

More power Mr. E.G.

stranger

Two angles:

- It's fun to take photos of people without their knowledge
- I seldom get the chance to photograph interesting people inside the tube

the man dying for a wee

It is nearly 10 pm, Friday night. I'm on my way home from playing tennis this evening. It has been a hectic week for me and I'm glad it's over. I have the weekend to myself, doing stupid things and being plain lazy.

My past week was eventful in a less stressful way. I spent two days with "Releasing Time To Care" (new program of care) and the rest of the week shortlisting job applications for new staff and interviewing people for the September intake of Renal Course at Kings.

It's totally against the directive of not doing 50 % clinical support and teaching staff in the wards and units. However, my job has been taking on corporate matters for years that it has become a habit too hard to break or something even the management people are not prepared to take over from us (Practice Development Team). In the end, no matter how much I'd like to be out there, there's always something that the directorate demands us to do. This corporate responsibilities are just pesky little buggers that are too hard to shake.

Typing this is getting a bit difficult as I'm distracted by that man doing strange poses inside the carriage. He's dying to relieve himself of some unwanted bodily fluids. He's totally animated he looks extremely idiotic.

Back to my past working week, again I'm glad that it's history. I feel like I'm cheating the institution some dough for something I'm not hired to perform. The personal effect of this job is getting more and more less eminent. I am transfixed to the desktop, keyboard and Microsoft outlook more than ever. I shouldn't really complain but I'm built for hard work. That's why I still eat rice to stack up on energy carbs to prepare me for unusual and unpredictable eventualities.

This is a long winded way of relating points but being aware of how I feel about it makes it even more taxing yet poignant. I have to say and express it. I am defeating my own purpose of living. I am getting involved in a job that is taking me away from the sole reason why I wanted it in the first place.

I know, I'm an ungrateful bitch. But it's good to be conscientious once in a while.

stop... rewrite.

calm before another storm

the soldier in Florence's life

hey Ryan, fancy this?

I have a new role to bite my teeth into. Today after meeting with the big Boss, she decided that I go and work as cover for the Head of Nursing who had to take emergency leave at the last minute. The job: Releasing Time To Care (RTTC) coordinator. It is a good job and with the increasing evidence based practices related to it, it is the way forward to managing a unit, a ward or an institution.

For two weeks, I will have to teach and supervise managers on the implementation of one of the modules of this project. This really sounds like a fine prospect. My big Boss said, " It is good to raise your profile as a staff of the Trust and create wider networking scheme ". I thought it was a rather cheesy pep talk but I kind of, bought it.

Starting tomorrow, I will have to learn relevant stuff in less than an hour before I get sent to the wilderness out there. I don't have issues about confidence in teaching staff outside my jurisdiction but I find it a bit daunting and baffling. I'm glad though that I have that confidence in me to face people and pretend that their scrutiny of my accent and diction are the least of my priorities. In fact, I do worry about it. Hmm, maybe a little.

I love teaching. The only downside of this role is the fact that I have to do rounds and make sure managers comply to this new directive. Tonight, I have to practise the dignified walk, the matter-of-factness talk and the stern yet approachable look. In other words, I have to come out of my comfort zone and mix that interplay of being a teacher and the managing authority.

I always find that hard. It is in my blood to relay, imbibe and inculcate learning. To act as a superior, all-knowing staff defeats the purpose of breaking down barriers to learning. But this has to be done and my bedroom mirror will be the first witness to that.

NAM

This morning, I had this conversation with him about opinions and forming them. I know for a fact that NAM is full of them. I sometimes think that his creativity and productivity in life could be a product of sublimation. He talks to me in that worldly sense that a matronly woman would die upon hearing, a dead Martin Luther king would bargain resurrection to appeal human rights and a 1993 batchmate would want to call a boycott or an emergency meeting. But hey, he's not that bad. He's just creative.

In our online conversation few days ago, I said NAM must be the brain, I am the spinal cord and Mike, the peripheral nerves. Our relationship as friends has been inconsistent but we know that it's worth a diamond cutter to sever it. Those who would try that would have second thoughts. It is an expensive deal to part us.

Yes, back to the nervous system.... NAM, in his wicked ways of special pretense, is really the brain. He scrutinises how we lived the past and insists that the present life has more oomph than the best days locked in the memory bank. On scrutiny however, he actually meant it the other way around. He'd mix up time periods like denial and projection. These personality sketches sound like cuckoo but how do you describe a brilliant mind without going the extreme length of correlation?

NAM is always a Skype and Yahoo messenger away. He hates video calling for I always sense some dark spirits looming around his boudoir. He asked me why spirits cling onto him and I said, "Your mind doesn't know any boundaries. It shows your vulnerability and encompassing nature". He told me to f___ off and forced me to listen to his virtual life instead. My partner asked me why I kiss NAM's ass all the time and I said, "...coz he is me on a good sane day".

mga payong

bar-your fiends-ta!

I'm now on my way to Central London after a day of national pride. I have never missed a Barrio Fiesta for the last 5 years and the reason for that is nothing short of personal effect. We as Filipinos meet and converge on those two days to partake on cholesterol laden chicharong bulaklak and other dishes contributing to future heart attacks.

Just like most of the Fiestas I have attended the past years, you have the celebrities to perk up that hunger for someone famous onstage and poke fun of our Filipino culture. I think it is customary to speak and point out the obvious in our culture and see the fun side of it when compared to other cultures.

Giselle Sanchez just did that. Vina Morales sang and sang as she lacked the funny element in her repertoire of talents and hit one of the dancers with her mike as she gyrated onstage. Randy Santiago did his best to make people laugh but Giselle's a hard act to top - so he sang and teased the "Manangs" in the audience. So much food but pricey as hell. I tried the chicharong bulaklak and lost 5 years of my life. The salt, MSG, more salt and more MSG made it a high possibility of heart attack in foreseeable future. The greasy menudo and adobo were enough to make to sure that you don't get second chances when that attack happens. And I don't have problems with that. I'd rather die than end up pestering a nurse to feed me against my will.

The Filipinos made it look like a solid front and as ever, the park looked like Luneta on a good day or any Sunday for that matter. We have been one but truly, clique's the order of the day. I would suggest that you don't go there on your own as this is no social networking venue. Yes, it is social but more on improving existing networks than fostering new ones. The sad part is when the field of dry, patchy green grass becomes a catwalk for most of the brand curious folks who take pride in carrying Nikons and Canons and Pradas, LVs and Guccis. The elitists meet the pseudo elitists meet the few critics and meet the "Manangs and Atengs".

It's nearly half five and I'm zapped. My energy reserves are low and my verbal skills are numb and dumb. This occasion's already a downer for me. I bumped into my very very old friend - first, she's old and second, she's a friend I've known for 13 years. We are not on speaking terms for several years now but I guess there's no harm in being polite. I'm British anyway. However, her cronies were just the same. Dogs, mere dogs. I patted their heads and offered pleasantries and walked away. They deserved that. I was glad Gehrie, Belle, James, Pep and Jomar kept me company. It would have been sheer pretense of the day if I ate Filipino dishes on my own and pretended to get engrossed with the karaoke-like stage antics of fiesta guests.

It really supports the idea that you go there to strengthen bonds between friends. If you see your old foes, just throw some bones of politeness. It's good for your sanity. They will think that you either forced yourself into doing it or just moved on like a calloused person. In both ways, you'd make it look like you've taken the higher road. Or maybe not - blog about them to your heart's content and feel better thereafter.

On my way home, I was humming Barbra Streisand's song, "I'm Still Here".

designer

It's Barrio Fiesta time.

Gehrie woke me up today. He rang me at 8 am to tell me that the invasion of Filipinos has started. The meeting place will be at Hounslow Park. Not so close and not too far from the Houses of Parliament and Buckingham Palace. Just perfect to plot, congregate and warble pinoy subversive chants - Tagumpay nating lahat and Bituing Walang Ningning.

True to Filipino kickoff, I got out of bed, wore my Islander slippers and cooked champorado drowned with evaporated milk. Yum! Flicked channels and found nothing interesting. I saw the lonely Noel Cabangon CD on top of the player begging for another spin. I told him that "You need rest Noel. You have been used and abused by that player". But he strummed his guitar and what the heck, it's Barrio fiesta. He played "Kahit maputi na ang buhok ko" like the very first time.

Facebook is littered with that sense of ecstasy.
I sense an LV and Gucci parade.
I sense D&G, Prada and Armani invasion instead.

I told NAM about this and true to his nature, he uttered "insecure people do that". I guess if you've got brains to back yourself up, you don't need a head to toe brandishing of power products to reflect the venerable and charming person that you are. I said "You are lucky you have IT". He laughed and said "Of course!". I'd carry my dream bag today (Mulberry) hoping that as a group of OFWs, we'd be able to conquer the respect and adulation of the British public by swinging around and flapping these bags to their faces until they beg for mercy and accord racial submission.

I love the idea of "shallow" but I love poking fun at it as well. We are a rare breed. We adapt so well, we are meant to rule the world. Oh how I love life's irony.

retrospection part deux

MY productivity was high this weekend (this is about my paper works not the below-the-waist humour). I was thinking that my tardy fairy godmother would visit me at the last minute again but yesterday, IT made a rare early appearance (my gangly bespectacled godmother sent this strange proxy instead).

IT was dressed in all shiny pink silk see-through overall that only the sequins covered the areolas and that immaculately shaved nether region. The hemline was ruffled to a chiffon made of purple fishnets and burgundy buttons ran along the back like spine.

ITs lips were deep amber and mesmerising. I saw its slight quiver and occasional pouts. I saw the moment it opened and uttered these words: I am your GHOST of TEACHING FUTURE. You fail this module and you'll end up like me; punished to wear this shit for life.

I was scared to death that fear actually made me start THE doing.

Colin he aint

He had the nicest, coolest and radio-like kind of voice. His accent was that of a Cambridge or Oxford-learned twang but modulated and husky-masculine.

He spoke with authority and flair. If he's reading Austen's "Pride and Prejudice" novel on radio, you'd relate him to Colin Firth's Mr. Darcy. You get the drift, right?

Compelled to look, turning my head 180 degrees was not humanly possible. The voice was emanating from the back and to turn my head that way would be far too conspicuous. But I wouldn't want to miss this once in a lifetime chance to meet the face behind the voice. Slowly, I moved my head nonchalantly (if that's a possible description to my wicked intention) and caught him enunciating the winning, fetching lines of Darcy's utter love for Elizabeth. If it was truly that "Darcy moment", I would have died instantly.

There he was like a glowing apparition amidst the flock of EastEnd commoners stroking his light beard as he talked. As I fixed my gaze, I saw the embodiment of Brad Pitt ten years after he enslaved himself to the rigours of liposuction and monobrow transplantation.

It's not about the shortcomings of his physical appearance but the illusion it creates. These days, I am surrounded by it. Believe me, people are not really what they seem to be.

I saw a high political figure once. After a tinkle, he went straight to the door without washing his hands. I hope they'd invent a talking loo door that shames those dirty buggers with these: OI YOU! Stop sharing your germs and wash your hands. I swear, I was so close to saying that.

.... and he had the bravura to promote a cleaner London as part of his then political agenda.

retrospection

The mountaintop is getting more and more discernible. I see where this major effort is taking me. I realise though that crunch time is the best time for me to be fired up. I am not the kind of person who needs a month preparation to accomplish deadline. It seems like adrenaline rush is something I have that is powerful than motivation. But then again, it can be argued that this motivation fuels the emancipation of my relatively used emergency hormone.

The important thing is that I'd be able to make it to the deadline. I'm glad to note that my typing skills, although not as technical as those who live typing other people's thoughts, is able to keep up with the outflow of my brain discharges.

I think that I am the most natural person who is attuned to the physical elements of the british weather. As the 2-week summer rage comes to a gradual decline, I'm glad to catch the last stride of the heat-wave. I am glad this assignment happens at the right time as London suffers one of its longest trail of real summer spell, helping me fire all mental cylinders to full blast. Although I hate it, this is something I am grateful of. In other words, there are also good things in situations you hate.

There's this person I hate but I just couldn't see one good thing about that scum.

har har har

Idiots with Zoe Saldana & Kate Bosworth from Zoe Saldana

my first written book of nonsense!

After 17 hours (that stretched over 6 days), my assignments are finally done, finito....! I have one bloody good reason to celebrate capitulation to carnal and intoxicated existence. If I make a fool of myself to Kylie's latest number one album, just ignore me. I am happy to remind you all that I deserve it. In fact, these assignments are worth a year of blogging and a lifetime of regret (if I fail).

Procrastination is like cocaine (not that I have tried it). You get to suffer later when moments matter the most.