Red wine-fueled lament

Oh, blog. How I've neglected you. I'm sorry. I have big, grandiose plans to resurrect you to your G-list status in 2010. I blame Facebook for taking all of my time and energy. And yes, while I admit the attention I received on said social networking site provided me with the short-term validation I needed at the time, I feel like there's nothing that compares with the just-as-superficial-yet-somehow-moreso-deserved validation that comes with all the effort that goes into one blog post.

I find myself at a crossroads with social media. On the one hand, keeping up to speed with the ever-changing world that is social networking and other things of its ilk is crucial, not only to the work that I do, but to my own interests as a semi-(and I use that prefix loosely) savviness with the Internets and all that, but quite frankly, I miss writing. The practice of writing something (no matter how horrible it ends up to be) on a daily basis.

Must figure out how to work this blog back into my regular day-to-day. Be patient with me, oh blog-o-mine.

Not to mention the fact that I just got out of a relationship and could use the mental, cathartic release that comes with putting words to virtual paper.

Bear with me, I promise I'll be back soon.

In Memoriam: My Grandfather

One of my favorite photos of my grandparents. Minalin, Pampanga, Philippines, 1975

My grandfather passed away on Nov. 27 at the age of 89 years old.

I've always felt disconnected from my extended family back in the Philippines; not because of any family drama or anything, but really only because the geographical distance makes it very difficult to build and maintain relationships. (Let's face it; the flight to Manila makes a five-hour flight to New York seem like a nanosecond, not to mention the fact that a plane ticket can cost about a month's salary for some.) In any case; my grandparents helped raise my cousins; my memories of my grandparents consisted of stories my dad would tell me about them and the three times I've visited. But despite the distance (both literally and figuratively), I've always held a fondness in my heart for my family back there.

Thankfully, the Internet and social networking have enabled the kinds of connections I've wanted to make with my cousins. My cousin, Jon, wrote this tribute to our grandfather the other day, and after reading it, I realized that my dad --- the oldest of all the siblings --- is SO like my grandfather. I may not have had the pleasure or privilege of living with my grandparents, but my grandfather's teachings, personality, values and beliefs were mirrored in the teachings, personality, values and beliefs I've seen in my own father.

And I never felt so connected to my family than at that moment.

Spam cracks me up.

I've been out of the office for the last two weeks, and today is my first day back.

Our company e-mail system does this thing where they filter out all your junk e-mails and sends you a daily list of junk e-mail that it's intercepted for you. You can then review the list and unjunk any legit e-mails.

Sometimes, spam still manages to hit my inbox. What's more disturbing, though, is that the sender appears to be my own work e-mail address.

Over the last two weeks, I've received quite a few e-mails with somewhat interesting subject lines. Here's a sample:

• "Stiff, long and hard rod"
• "I'm so thick now she says it hurts"
• "Never be flaccid again"
• "Don't wait to be huge"
• "Proven to work in male subjects"
• "Re: Scarlett [Johansen?] did it for cash"
• "Fit perfectly between her jugs"
• "Women will flock like bees to honey"

And my personal favorite, "With 9 inches everything is possible."

Indeed.

Happy Holidays!

Everyone here at You Forgot Poland! wishes you a very merry holiday season. To those of you who still come by my humble corner of the blogosphere---including those of you who still come by for that bikini wax video---thank you very much for your presence.

I turn 36 today. It's not really hitting me yet; I have tons of stuff on my mind, both on a personal and professional level, and it's making me feel a little overwhelmed.

Needless to say, I'll have plenty of time during the the coming year to revel in the joys of being 36.

There are joys to being 36 ... right?

Adventures in Bacon

I'm simultaneously enthralled and repulsed by this:

See it in all its glory here. Props to Kenneth for the link.

And I'm off ...

... to New York for a few days. See you in a few.


(Photo credit: Allposters.com)

Happy Valentine's Day or something

Especially to you who are Valentine-less, like me.

UPDATE 2/14, 11 a.m.: I realize my initial post is somewhat cynical. After reading this heart-warming, positive piece from Res Ipsa Loquitur at Rising Hegemon, I've been inspired to follow her lead and not be so damn negative about Valentine's Day. So, on that note:

What Tarot Card Are You?

Hmm...

You are The Moon

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Moon is a card of magic and mystery - when prominent you know that nothing is as it seems, particularly when it concerns relationships. All logic is thrown out the window.

The Moon is all about visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry. This is a card that has to do with sleep, and so with both dreams and nightmares. It is a scary card in that it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. But it should also be remembered that this is a card of great creativity, of powerful magic, primal feelings and intuition. You may be going through a time of emotional and mental trial; if you have any past mental problems, you must be vigilant in taking your medication but avoid drugs or alcohol, as abuse of either will cause them irreparable damage. This time however, can also result in great creativity, psychic powers, visions and insight. You can and should trust your intuition.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Freaky Friday

Since many of my beloved co-workers, some of whom read this blog, were out of the office last Friday, I thought I'd show you a graphic depiction of how my day started:



Except it wasn't a cockroach, it was a spider. And I wasn't in a news studio in front of a weather map, but inside my cube. But my reaction? Totally just like this guy. Maybe even worse, actually.

Also, I wanted to post this because it cracks me up.

Wii, Wii, Wii

My cousin and her husband scored a Nintendo Wii for Xmas this year, and we spent most of Xmas eve playing tennis on the Wii. She and I were both on the tennis team in high school, which made for some pretty interesting rallies.

That being said, I think I can take on this kid - his backhand sucks:

Happy Birthday to Me

Oh yeah, and happy holidays, everybody.

Happy Holidays

To the two or three people who still come to this blog on the regular, and to the numbers of you still coming to this site to watch the brazilian bikini wax video or to read my Project Runway recaps, I want to wish you all the best this holiday season.

My gift to you: Some Santa kid torture pics. Don't tell me I'm not a giver. Enjoy!

I wouldn't be surprised to learn that the movie "Bad Santa" was inspired by this guy.

This one is my favorite. At least the mom took the time to pose and look at the camera while hauling away her crying kid.

Classic.

You can almost hear this one.

This one is just funny.

Tonight is the night

I'm turning (gulp) 35 this year. Thirty. Fucking. Five.

In three days.

I'm a little freaked out. It's kind of a big deal.

So to start things off on the right foot, my friend and I are celebrating our birthdays tonight at a double super-secret location in Oakland.

It's gonna be fierce; please believe it. Be afraid, Oaktown. Be very afraid.

Where the magic happens

In honor of Show Your Blog Space Day, here's mine. My couch. My laptop. The TV.

Who's on the TV, you ask? Rachel Ray, at the moment. I can't stand the woman, but watching Sunday morning cooking shows is part of my routine. Don't judge.




No, I'm not trying to re-enact "The Ring" here. My digital camera is totally fucked. Whatever. You get the idea.

This is totally embarassing, this picture. I hate my camera right now.

Sexy vs. Pretty

One man's opinion:

For a woman to be sexy in a man's eyes she must possess at least some of these qualities:

1. She must be able to dress classy but provocatively, regardless of her career, and she should care less about what people think...never forgets, she's a woman first.

2. She should take care of herself physically. However, that doesn't mean she has to be a specific body type or weight, it simply implies she can't dress or look lazy.

3. Sexy women walk with a slow and definite confidence...not march or, conversely, slump around.

4. She makes eye contact

5. Her perfume should be present but not over-powering.

6. She can't have a "sour puss" or get up on a soapbox and complain all the time.

7. It's best if her hair is clean and of feminine length.

8. She should be able to hold down a solid conversation and have her own opinions.

9. She should be able to take a joke...even if it's dirty.

10. She should never be on her phone, chewing gum, and laughing like a hyena caught in a bear trap.

I want to say something about why I'm still single here, but I can't even think of anything witty to say at the moment.

Anyway. Talk amongst yourselves.

Has it been a week?

I know. It seems like eons ago when I last posted. Don't look at me like that. I've been busy.

So I thought I'd do a little touch base, and leave you with the cutest gypsy flamenco home video you've ever seen.

If I ever have a daughter, I'd want her to be able to bust out a buleria like this one:



You're looking great. Let's do lunch. I'll call you!

La Vida Flamenca

If you don't have any plans yet for tomorrow night, may I suggest you check out this show:




From the San Francisco Bay Guardian's Rita Feliciano:

The Azahar Dance Foundation is a good idea. Realizing that artists have a difficult time stepping out of the pack, the foundation for the past four years has supported flamenco dancers by giving them opportunities to put on a full evening's worth of their own work. This year it's Melissa Cruz's turn to curate a show. She has invited her French-Basque colleague Fanny Ara ("La Fanny"), tabla player turned flamenco percussionist Sudhi Rajagopal, Seville singer Felix de Lola, and master guitarist Jason McGuire to contribute to a program of choreographed and improvised works titled "La Vida Flamenca." Both the compact, petite Cruz — a student of the legendary Rosa Montoya — and the elegant Ara are experienced, well-known dancers, performing often with Yaelisa and Caminos Flamencos. They also are open to experimenting with the myriad musical and theatrical influences that are reshaping concepts of this Iberian–North African–Indian gypsy art. Three years ago, for instance, they were brave enough to join speed metal guitarist Benjamin Wood for "Flametal," a kind of Rocky Horror Picture Show of angst and theatricality. Cruz makes a 180 degree turn away from that show's extravagance with this evening of flamenco puro, in which nothing interferes with the direct expression of human emotions — passion and pain, exhilaration and loneliness — through music and dance. As always, at the heart of flamenco is the spontaneous give-and-take between musician and dancer that is at once playful and deadly serious.

Of course, I know this will be awesome. My teacher's the show's artistic director.

Be there.

LA VIDA FLAMENCA Sat/8, 8 p.m., $25–$29. Cowell Theater, Fort Mason Center, Marina at Laguna, SF. (415) 345-7575

I beg to differ

But then again, I live in Oakland:

There have been major changes in the rankings this year. The winner: San Francisco, up from fourth place. It ranked first for culture and received high marks for number of singles, nightlife, online dating and cool.

All I'm saying is if you know anyone, hook a sister up.

Don't Tell My Mom ...

... about Mistral Air - she'd buy a ticket in a heartbeat [emphasis mine, of course]:

A slogan by a new, Vatican-approved charter service leaves little doubt about what its clients are doing at 30,000 feet: "I'm Searching for Your Face, Lord."

Mistral Air plans to shuttle Catholic pilgrims around the globe to holy sites, including the shrine of Fatima in Portugal and the shrine of the Madonna of Guadalupe in Mexico.

"The spirit of this new initiative is to meet the growing demand by pilgrims to visit the most important sites for the faith," Father Cesare Atuire at the Vatican pilgrimage office, the Opera Romana Pellegrinaggi, told La Repubblica daily.

Repubblica said Mistral Air's slogan will be emblazoned on material throughout the aircraft, which will be operated by Italy's postal service.

The debut charter flight late this month will be to the shrine of Lourdes in France, and will lure pilgrims with one added bonus -- the guide will be Cardinal Camillo Ruini, the former head of the Italian Bishops Conference, Repubblica said.

Props to Bellamomo for the link.

Oh, to be a woman.

Cholesterol be damned, I'm craving me some buffalo wings. Like, right now.

Problem: I don't know of any places around me.

So if you live in the Bay Area, are a buffalo wing lover with a discriminating palate (e.g. if your suggestion is to try "Hooters," then don't bother leaving me a comment), and you are familiar with the East Bay, help a sister out.