My second review on Nike apparel was posted on Kikay Exchange. Check out Bragging about Bra Tops:
Enter the Bra Top. Aside from supporting “the girls” and eliminating unwanted bounce, bra tops are colorful and stylish. When it gets too hot under the collar, you can always slip out of your overshirt and continue your workout. Just don’t mind the stares and the occasional cat calls if you do so.
Hey everyone! I’ve recently been tapped as a reviewer for Kikay Exchange, and my first post, These Clothes Are Made For Sweating, has just been published. Check it out!
…I like to give my students the feeling they’ve walked into a dance movie, like Step Up, every time they come to class…
Tags: Nike Apparel, Reviews, Kikay Exchange
I was tapped as a reviewer for Kikay Exchange, and my first post was These Clothes Are Made For Sweating. Check it out!
…I like to give my students the feeling they’ve walked into a dance movie, like Step Up, every time they come to class…
Sometime last year, I got it in my head to run a 5-kilometer race. The Race for Life was a benefit run organized by the Real Life Foundation, and it was set to happen in November. So, for more than a month before it, I got my running gear set aside and ready. That included a new pair of running shoes.
Unfortunately, work got in the way of my practice schedules, and I kept pushing back the days I would practice running at least 5 kilometers on a treadmill or on a track. And then, Race Day rolled around and I also had a work commitment, so I never started the race.
Then I pulled my shoes out out one fateful night in December when some of my friends from church invited me to join them in their evening run at the UP Oval. When I got there, it was two guys and three girls plus me. Joel (Guy #1) started the run at a really, really slow pace. I got so bored that I picked up my pace, sprinted away, and did four rounds of the Oval by myself.
Apparently this grew into an urban legend among the guy joggers among my friends. They set up a running club (dubbed the “Samahan ng Midnight Runners” or SMR) and made it a goal that by this month, they can keep pace with or overtake me.
At least these guys got themselves into good shape; one of them is currently training for a triathlon. The rest have been training to beat me, which is funny. I absolutely hate competing with others because I often end up losing. Actually, I hate losing even more than competing. So it’s great when I can set a little goal, like four times around the Oval, and accomplish that. It’s something else entirely when I have to accomplish that against other people.
When I talk about running, I run against myself to test my own physical fitness. I only want to see whether my five days of dance fitness training can cross over into being fit for a race. When I talk about running, it’s to break the monotony of my workouts: when I run I don’t have to teach anyone which foot to use first, I don’t have to yell across the room to motivate anyone. It’s exercise purely for my own health, and I rarely get the chance to do that anymore.
When I talk about running, I talk about escaping from my work.
Tags: Running
I’m not a wine person, but I do love pizza. So when I got the offer to sample Cafe Provençal’s pizza (plus wine) from my friend Paul Pajo, I jumped at the chance.
Cafe Provençal is one of those places that have been around forever in Shangri-La Mall. It’s also, unfortunately, one of the places I’d never tried. So, armed with my empty stomach, I and around 25 other bloggers descended on Cafe Provençal last Tuesday for pizza and wine — and then some.
“Bonjour!”
“Pizza?” you say. “At a French restaurant?” But Cafe Provençal is French Mediterranean cuisine, which means they can pretty much serve any food from that area. The twist on this: the Napoletana-style thin crust pizza can be served with rosé wine. Tres French, oui?
PIZZA!
They served four varieties of pizza: Roasted Garlic, Asparagus, Spicy Chorizo, and Tarragon Chicken. We were able to try two wines: the Alexis Syrah Grenache, and then the Corail from Provence.
I found that the Corail fit the food better because it was lighter. The pizzas had a delicate flavor that could be overwhelmed by the Syrah Grenache, which had a bitter aftertaste.
And then there were these:
Beef Burgundy and Pasta Provençal
Beef Burgundy is local beef stewed for hours in reduced red wine. It was paired with mashed potatoes that helped our tongues cope with the richness of the stew (although I would have wanted some rice instead — mmm!). Pasta Provençal is, simply put, puttanesca; I initially didn’t think anything special of it until I tried it with the Corail. Then its full flavor came alive. It was a good thing I’d gotten full on the pizza, or I might have had another plate of pasta and a full glass of wine. If you must know, I don’t hold my liquor too well.
We capped the meal with beignet; it’s the French version of a doughnut, and is served with chocolate sauce. At that point in the evening, the good food and liberal flow of wine had us all in a jovial mood, and I left for home feeling sated and just a little bit tingly. I’m not a wine person but that combination just might have made me fall in love with the idea.
Next time I want to experience “Summer in Provence” maybe with my family or friends. I’ve only got until the end of March to do so, because next month there’ll be a different featured item.
with Cafe Provençal’s chef Jacq Tan, Kathleen and Bryan Chua, and Marvin Chua
Mirror, mirror on the wall / who is the fairest of them all?
There are good mirrors, and there are bad ones. The good mirrors don’t lie, or if they do they make you thinner or taller than you really are, instantly banishing an extra five pounds off your hips. And if the good mirror is lit by orange or yellow light, blemishes on your face magically disappear as well.
Good mirrors are usually found in the restrooms of date places, like restaurants, hotels, and the like. For anxious women doing a powder check these mirrors are a godsend, making them feel beautiful and giving them the boldness to head back to their tables where their dates are waiting.
And then there are the bad mirrors. No matter which angle you strike a pose at, you always look a little bit misshapen, with bulges in all the wrong places. Couple that with harsh fluorescent from overhead and you’ve got the makings of a disaster.
Well, dear readers, I encountered the world’s most evil mirror yesterday, and it was in the locker room of the Fitness First in SM North EDSA. I was changing in the private cubicle into my undies, and then when I glanced at the full-length mirror on the far wall, I was aghast at what I saw. In the mirror, I had a huge butt, dimpled thighs, and the skin on my face was mottled red and white. (OK in actuality maybe I do have these things, but they were really exaggerated.)
Maybe the World’s Most Evil Mirror was placed there to keep women coming back to the gym. Hell, I know I’d want to work out more if I looked like that in a mirror.
Last year, every time I went to an audition, casting, or go-see I would feel very insecure about my “amateur” status. I had no existing body of work to bring up when asked, “previous experience?” I had very little in the way of actual TV appearances and no experience at all in modeling work.
After much procrastinating (by me) and prodding (by my mentor Jourdan S. and my peers), I finally scheduled a pictorial for a series of photos I would use as my portfolio. Whether I put these in a black book or on a comp card, having photos of professional quality shows that I’m serious about this line of work.
Thanks to my photographer (and school friend from way back) Abraham Magbanua, and my makeup artist Coy Echas. These photos were taken at Studio 33, Topaz Bldg., Kamias.
Thanks also to Aaron Ebio who dropped by and took this photo:
I’m loving these photos! Next up: different angles, maybe a location shoot, God willing. Ü
Last year during my trip to Laoag, we stumbled upon the windmill farm in Bangui as we were on our way to the Cape Bojeador lighthouse.
We drove up to a man standing by on the highway, and asked him how to get to those windmills in the distance. He told us to take a little dirt road and take several turns so we would emerge on the coastline. After a few dead ends driving through the dense thicket of bushes and trees the dirt road took us past, we broke through the foliage onto a desolate spit of beach sand. To either side of us, towering monoliths of steel with blades perched atop each of them stood like silent guardians.
the windmills of Bangui
Standing in the midst of these, I felt really small. It was as if I’d gotten warped into an alien world where the inhabitants were giants, and we were Lilliputians. And the fact that we were on a beach with gigantic propeller blades spinning overhead gave me a very strong Lost vibe. Any minute I expected maybe a plane to crash, or some disheveled survivors emerging to greet us.
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The wind came strongly in from the sea, but it staggered me that it was blowing strong enough to cause tons of steel to move. The windmill blades were squealing and groaning, straining against the wind to catch every last gust of power. A small knot formed in my stomach as the thought entered my head, “Could these things possibly fall off? And could we avoid being crushed?”
fascinated and scared
Watching the windmills was both mesmerizing and terrifying. My intellect knew that these were harmless, simply harnessing wind power to light half the province of Ilocos Norte. But the animal part of me was awestruck — probably akin to the experience of isolated tribes encountering the modern city.
The windmill farm of Bangui is so picturesque that it’s been featured on local album covers, magazines, and the occasional ad campaign by a clothing company. It’s surreal, this juxtaposition of manmade and natural. There’s really nothing quite like this place anywhere else in the Philippines, and I’m glad we took the side trip to see it.
I pointed a digicam at the TV just because I want to show off. Ü I still can’t believe my name’s in the credits as a guest.
http://images.multiply.com/multiply/multv.swf
“Demon Cellphone Number”
Writer: Joaqui Tupas
Synopsis:
Four friends try out an urban legend that requires you to call a special cellphone number – the devil’s number. As one of them dies, they realize the truth and seriousness of this legend and Denise, the victim’s girlfriend, seeks the help of the Midnight DJ team. The team led by Samboy agrees to help them but are met by obstacles and seemingly dead-end solutions.
One by one the three remaining friends die off. Time is running out. Will the Midnight DJ team come any closer to discovering the answer to free them from the curse?
Guests:
Watch the full episode on Pinoy
Channel TV.
Tags: Acting, Television, Midnight DJ
“Demon Cellphone Number”
Writer: Joaqui Tupas
Synopsis:
Four friends try out an urban legend that requires you to call a special cellphone number – the devil’s number. As one of them dies, they realize the truth and seriousness of this legend and Denise, the victim’s girlfriend, seeks the help of the Midnight DJ team. The team led by Samboy agrees to help them but are met by obstacles and seemingly dead-end solutions.
One by one the three remaining friends die off. Time is running out. Will the Midnight DJ team come any closer to discovering the answer to free them from the curse?
Guests:
Watch the full episode on Pinoy Channel TV.
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