a friend once told me "you know what, you've got commitment issues".
I just realized after watching the classic "Breakfast at Tiffayn's", that i actually do.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
The Sauna Connection
I could feel the sweat oozing from my pores. It was relaxing. I knew I had to do this before I started my week.
There were a few people in the sauna, conversation exchanges in the background as I closed my eyes. The old Chinese man in the corner was impressed with the Malaysian's ability to speak Mandarin and even learn 4 other languages. Isn't it amazing how much you can learn from a stranger's background in a place like this.
An old big-bellied Kiwi guy, who I often see, entered the room and sat beside me. I wanted to say, "Move over"...it was just a bubble thought. He checked out the girl in the other corner and started a small chat. I wanted to poke his eyes because of the way he impolitely stared and stared and stared at her. The girl was apparently from Thailand and have lived here for 10 years. She's been working as a waitress in the JAsmine RIce Thai REstaurant along Remuera Road. He was definitely hitting on her.
ok ok ok. Jowe, stop listening and relax. Focus.
The door opened and another character entered the scene. I saw him earlier, handsome in his white shirt and blue boardshorts.
He sat one level below me.
When all of the others left the room, the only noise that filled the air was my breath and his. HE learned forward and clasped his face with both hands, deep in thought. AFter a deep sigh, settled back to his old position and leaned on the edge of the bench.
I said, "relaxed now?". He looked up at me, smiled and said "Yeah". Cute.
He was a Kiwi who bought tickets and finally decided to move to London, come May. So he's got 4 weeks and a half remaining. We talked about travels, why the move, transferring countries, etcetera. I found it funny how the conversation just went spontaneously and no awkwardness.
We talked about life and decisions to be made. The "why New Zealand" cliche question, answers that seemed to have been said over a gazillion times. But the exchange was fluid.
He sat beside me during the second sauna session. We continued on about our travels, and choices of places. And still about life.
AT past 8, he said "that's me", and said goodbye.
I said, "Goodluck".
And that was it.
There were a few people in the sauna, conversation exchanges in the background as I closed my eyes. The old Chinese man in the corner was impressed with the Malaysian's ability to speak Mandarin and even learn 4 other languages. Isn't it amazing how much you can learn from a stranger's background in a place like this.
An old big-bellied Kiwi guy, who I often see, entered the room and sat beside me. I wanted to say, "Move over"...it was just a bubble thought. He checked out the girl in the other corner and started a small chat. I wanted to poke his eyes because of the way he impolitely stared and stared and stared at her. The girl was apparently from Thailand and have lived here for 10 years. She's been working as a waitress in the JAsmine RIce Thai REstaurant along Remuera Road. He was definitely hitting on her.
ok ok ok. Jowe, stop listening and relax. Focus.
The door opened and another character entered the scene. I saw him earlier, handsome in his white shirt and blue boardshorts.
He sat one level below me.
When all of the others left the room, the only noise that filled the air was my breath and his. HE learned forward and clasped his face with both hands, deep in thought. AFter a deep sigh, settled back to his old position and leaned on the edge of the bench.
I said, "relaxed now?". He looked up at me, smiled and said "Yeah". Cute.
He was a Kiwi who bought tickets and finally decided to move to London, come May. So he's got 4 weeks and a half remaining. We talked about travels, why the move, transferring countries, etcetera. I found it funny how the conversation just went spontaneously and no awkwardness.
We talked about life and decisions to be made. The "why New Zealand" cliche question, answers that seemed to have been said over a gazillion times. But the exchange was fluid.
He sat beside me during the second sauna session. We continued on about our travels, and choices of places. And still about life.
AT past 8, he said "that's me", and said goodbye.
I said, "Goodluck".
And that was it.
Monday, April 5, 2010
"Katuwang"
I learned this word from a friend of mine. "Katuwang".
It's impact surprised me. I found myself sobbing in tears.
"Katuwang". A filipino word meaning "Companero" or Partner.
Partner in crime. It would be a nice thought to have one.
It's impact surprised me. I found myself sobbing in tears.
"Katuwang". A filipino word meaning "Companero" or Partner.
Partner in crime. It would be a nice thought to have one.
The Corner of 4 years ago
Dorchester St., corner St. John's Road.
Buses 007, 625, 685 collect people from the bus stop in front of Purewa Cemetery.
The crackling sound of the cooking oil as the fish wrapped with flour sizzle into brown fills the fish and chip shop.
The Indian lady smiles at me across the counter of the dairy shop where I usually top up my Go Rider bus card.
Portofino sleeps through the day, quietly anticipating the catchup dinners and laughter at night.
I sit on the edge of the colour gray bench, my favorite spot. The breeze is cooler than a few weeks before, signs of autumn and winter approaching. I take my first bite off the tip of my Nestle Caramel flavoured ice cream while grasping everything around me, enough to feed my hungry senses. I want to take this with me forever.
This is where it all started for me. Meadowbank Suburb, Auckland Region, 2006. Dorchester St. corner St. Johns Road. I feel nostalgic.
Simple. Defined.
I loved the silence of that life 4 years ago. When responsibilities were things of the future and places were yet to be explored. Things were simple back then. To buy a bottle of milk in the freezing cold of winter wasn't much of a big deal. We didn't have a car so we decided to buy a cheap stroller bag to carry our weekly grocery from the far away bus stop. Dragging it up Gowing drive was always a challenge, until it gave up on us. It's last day of service was a hilarious scene of me running after the wheel that got loose.
Weekends were filled up with household chores, lazy sundays and library moments. That was the routine. Plain and simple. No hang ups, just full of dreams for the years to come.
We just lived in a 1-bedroom apartment that was damp and chilly in winter, but we never complained. The electric stove seemed to have stood there for centuries but it still cooked fine. We only had a small 4-chair table covered with cheap linen. The receiving area was small but cozy, designed with a sofa which actually served as a bed. All of the furnitures were second hand, bought by my sister from the amazing world of Trade Me.
We actually lived in the garage floor of a 2-storey house in Meadowbank. A chinese couple upstairs seemed to have always acted as our silent guardian. When rain started to pour, Lee (the wife), would pack up our hanging laundry in our absence. And during the harvest season, she would knock at our door with her lovely smile, giving us a few of her husbands delights from their garden.
Simple. Small. But enough. We had our privacy, and we had our routines.
Now and again I revisit that corner. I labour my mind with the memories. I lavish my thoughts with the simplicity and how I actually would want it to be that way again, knowing in the back of my mind it wouldn't be. Or perhaps in another country? or in another lifetime?
How come it's turned complicated this time?
.... I rest my mind..
Buses 007, 625, 685 collect people from the bus stop in front of Purewa Cemetery.
The crackling sound of the cooking oil as the fish wrapped with flour sizzle into brown fills the fish and chip shop.
The Indian lady smiles at me across the counter of the dairy shop where I usually top up my Go Rider bus card.
Portofino sleeps through the day, quietly anticipating the catchup dinners and laughter at night.
I sit on the edge of the colour gray bench, my favorite spot. The breeze is cooler than a few weeks before, signs of autumn and winter approaching. I take my first bite off the tip of my Nestle Caramel flavoured ice cream while grasping everything around me, enough to feed my hungry senses. I want to take this with me forever.
This is where it all started for me. Meadowbank Suburb, Auckland Region, 2006. Dorchester St. corner St. Johns Road. I feel nostalgic.
Simple. Defined.
I loved the silence of that life 4 years ago. When responsibilities were things of the future and places were yet to be explored. Things were simple back then. To buy a bottle of milk in the freezing cold of winter wasn't much of a big deal. We didn't have a car so we decided to buy a cheap stroller bag to carry our weekly grocery from the far away bus stop. Dragging it up Gowing drive was always a challenge, until it gave up on us. It's last day of service was a hilarious scene of me running after the wheel that got loose.
Weekends were filled up with household chores, lazy sundays and library moments. That was the routine. Plain and simple. No hang ups, just full of dreams for the years to come.
We just lived in a 1-bedroom apartment that was damp and chilly in winter, but we never complained. The electric stove seemed to have stood there for centuries but it still cooked fine. We only had a small 4-chair table covered with cheap linen. The receiving area was small but cozy, designed with a sofa which actually served as a bed. All of the furnitures were second hand, bought by my sister from the amazing world of Trade Me.
We actually lived in the garage floor of a 2-storey house in Meadowbank. A chinese couple upstairs seemed to have always acted as our silent guardian. When rain started to pour, Lee (the wife), would pack up our hanging laundry in our absence. And during the harvest season, she would knock at our door with her lovely smile, giving us a few of her husbands delights from their garden.
Simple. Small. But enough. We had our privacy, and we had our routines.
Now and again I revisit that corner. I labour my mind with the memories. I lavish my thoughts with the simplicity and how I actually would want it to be that way again, knowing in the back of my mind it wouldn't be. Or perhaps in another country? or in another lifetime?
How come it's turned complicated this time?
.... I rest my mind..
The Last Days of Paul
The last time I was in that DVD shop, I was staring at the shelves but had wandering thoughts. That was me during my heartache days.
Today I Decided to pass by that same DVD shop and find something to inspire me. Maybe a movie with a plot that would give me a better insight in "writing" about travels.
My eyes settled on the cover of the box entitled "The Last Days of Paul". It had 2 guys with a backpack, walking on white sand. Looked liked the one I'm looking for.
Charlie and Cliff.
Today I Decided to pass by that same DVD shop and find something to inspire me. Maybe a movie with a plot that would give me a better insight in "writing" about travels.
My eyes settled on the cover of the box entitled "The Last Days of Paul". It had 2 guys with a backpack, walking on white sand. Looked liked the one I'm looking for.
Charlie and Cliff.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Exercise 5 - Travel Writing (lonely planet)
Try to write a compelling beginning.
Remember the following tips:
- move on if you can't find a compelling start to your story. don't waste too much time.
- if with difficulty, try making na list of important experiences you had on that trip and then organize
- the structure of your beginning if your calling card to editors and your one change to inspire him/her to read on.
My sample:
His eyes were closed as his fingers fluidly played on the keys. The color of his skin was a good contrast against the bronze body of his saxophone. I stood in front of him and dropped a few quarters, my first time to have Aussie money. He heard the coins land on his basking case. He gave me a nod of acknowledgement and smiled, as he continued on to play to the tune of "What a Beautiful World".
I just arrived in Sydney.
The lively atmosphere on that Friday night gave me my first taste of the Sydney kind of lifestyle. Couple walking along the port comfortably chatting, held on to each other hands and found their way through the rush-hour of the afternoon. Yuppies in their smart work attire seemed so beautiful and handsome albeit the need to catch the next train ride. Impressively professional compared to the fashion sense here in Auckland.
Vibrant. Alive. Huge. Adjectives that purely described this city. the small alleys offerred a lot to explore, pubs or shops. The aura was more European to me than American. I guess that's why I felt like I was in London.
I found that I liked it there. The "hugeness" swallowed my "smallness", made me anonymous in the crowd. Although for some, Auckland's defined cityscapes is enough to keep them calm, safe and laidback.
Remember the following tips:
- move on if you can't find a compelling start to your story. don't waste too much time.
- if with difficulty, try making na list of important experiences you had on that trip and then organize
- the structure of your beginning if your calling card to editors and your one change to inspire him/her to read on.
My sample:
His eyes were closed as his fingers fluidly played on the keys. The color of his skin was a good contrast against the bronze body of his saxophone. I stood in front of him and dropped a few quarters, my first time to have Aussie money. He heard the coins land on his basking case. He gave me a nod of acknowledgement and smiled, as he continued on to play to the tune of "What a Beautiful World".
I just arrived in Sydney.
The lively atmosphere on that Friday night gave me my first taste of the Sydney kind of lifestyle. Couple walking along the port comfortably chatting, held on to each other hands and found their way through the rush-hour of the afternoon. Yuppies in their smart work attire seemed so beautiful and handsome albeit the need to catch the next train ride. Impressively professional compared to the fashion sense here in Auckland.
Vibrant. Alive. Huge. Adjectives that purely described this city. the small alleys offerred a lot to explore, pubs or shops. The aura was more European to me than American. I guess that's why I felt like I was in London.
I found that I liked it there. The "hugeness" swallowed my "smallness", made me anonymous in the crowd. Although for some, Auckland's defined cityscapes is enough to keep them calm, safe and laidback.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Exercise 4
In Media Res - "in the middle of things" -
Practice how to begin a travel writers article on a recent travel you've made.
I choose my trip to Sydney, Australia, last January, 2010.
- It looked like a picture-perfect postcard with the glowing moon on top of the sharp white contours of the Opera House, although, this time it was for real. I didn't expect to be on the rooftop of a YHA backpacker in the heart of Sydney just a stone throw away from the Harbour Bridge and Opera House.
The Rocks area has been claimed to be the birthplace of Sydney.
Practice how to begin a travel writers article on a recent travel you've made.
I choose my trip to Sydney, Australia, last January, 2010.
- It looked like a picture-perfect postcard with the glowing moon on top of the sharp white contours of the Opera House, although, this time it was for real. I didn't expect to be on the rooftop of a YHA backpacker in the heart of Sydney just a stone throw away from the Harbour Bridge and Opera House.
The Rocks area has been claimed to be the birthplace of Sydney.
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