Folk In Those Stories Had Lots of Chances Of Turning Back, Only They Didn't

I wasn't supposed to write an entire post about my obsession with Middle-earth but then just like how junkies of whatever sorts undergo closure to treat their obsessions, I've to put a dot on my month long The Hobbit - LOTR movies and books marathon by quickly gushing over them here.


Top: Zara | Necklace: from Bangkok | Shoes: Skechers | Skirt: Zara | Sunglasses: Ray-ban

These photos were taken last 8 December. Almost all classes all over the country were suspended then leaving the streets bereft of the usual Manila traffic, which my Dad and I took opportunity of. We drove all the way to Clark to oversee some of his pressing projects there. I tagged along because I'm an opportunistic little daughter who saw this chance as a way to sweet-talk my Dad into buying me all the stuff I believe I need (but really do not. As he said, "I'm not working so hard just to buy you your fur vest when it's not practical in the kind of climate we have" but as always, I got what I wanted.) hahahahaha


It emotionally drains me just thinking of seeing the end of The Hobbit. (Come on, admit it. We all probably have a fanclub we've sworn allegiance to.) Long before I became a fan of the Harry Potter series, I was already obsessing heavily on J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. All my brothers, my uncles, and my boy-cousins dragged me to the cinemas to watch the first three instalments and successfully turned me into another Middle-earth geek. When the great Peter Jackson translated The Hobbit into movies two years ago, the fans club in my family was resurrected. For purposes of this post, I'm focusing on the films over the books. I've read all 3 of the LOTR and The Hobbit but when I saw Jackson's idea of them, I was completely won over. The books were great, what with all of Tolkien's lovely words and ideas that are difficult to translate into action, but Jackson's was legendary on its own as well.

As if hearing Pippin's song in the Return of the King played as the background music for the trailer of The Battle of the Five Armies wasn't enough to get me emotionally invested, the movie used Pippin's voice once more to sing the final farewell song played at the end credits of the last movie. By then, I was already sobbing in the movie house, to my brother's dismay.

On a scale of 1 to Stephen Colbert, I'm not really sure where I stand as a fan. But I can lengthily explain why the wise Gandalf couldn't do the missions (... quest... thing) in both The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings or why the eagles only showed up at the last minute. Or the name of Gandalf's horse and sword. Or the riddle behind Gandalf's famous "Fly, you fools" line. Or other not so obvious occurrences and objects concerning not only Gandalf but the other characters as well. I'll gladly discuss themes in the books and films with anyone, seriously. There are plenty of conventions where fans gather in the US and UK and I'm very positive that if I ever get the chance to be there, I'll proudly wear a costume. No, really.


I understand why there was an uproar amongst the Tolkien fans when the character of Tauriel was introduced in The Desolation of Smaug (which, by the way, is my favorite among the Hobbit trilogy). She didn't spring forth from Tolkien's mind, instead she came from Jackson's interpretation of Tolkien's Middle-earth world. Nonetheless, I like her and how substantial the films made her character out to be. Seeing a female persona in an otherwise male-dominated world is empowering. Not to mention, her existence provided a romantic plot to the story.  Besides, I believe the main plot wasn't altered substantially and some of the poignant scenes and lines in the books of all the Middle-earth stories were included. Every battle with the Orcs and the Goblins were theatrically orchestrated injected with Legolas and Gimli's humorous competition against each other (in LOTR), that instead of my usual recoiling response to war scenes, I enjoy every death on the battle field (The battle of Helm's Deep or The Battle of Hornburg is my favorite sequence from the 6 movies but I used a photo from The Battle of Pelennor Fields as emphasis).

Knowing that the character you've rooted for from the start will eventually get killed doesn't lessen the impact once you actually see it. Although the circumstances of the characters' death were different from what happened in the book, the end-result was the same so cut Jackson some slack, you high and mighty Tolkien fanatics. I wasn't so invested in Kili in the book but who wouldn't like Tolkien's version of Kili?




images from Iconic Fictional Characters

The thing with epic adventures is that, they leave a mark. Sometimes it completely intertwines with the rest of our lives, other times it becomes a constant reminder in a form of a scar, tattoo, or deformity of what we've underwent at a certain time. Very seldom does it leave us. And very seldom does it not make us evaluate where we currently stand.

I'm not yet ready to bid Middle-earth farewell. For now, let me go back to doing my LOTR marathon then cap everything off with Billy Boyd's The Last Goodbye to shed some more tears. Peace out!

Sentimental Man

To be fair, I'm not neglecting the blog because I'm lazy. It's just that, I've disappointingly crossed the border that divides interesting stories from sentences that are merely "a play on words without actual substance" (The quoted phrase is an idea that I've read or heard somewhere). No matter how mediocre I've been for the past years, there has to be a limit on how mediocre I can become. Haha!


Long cardigan used as dress: H&M | Belt: Topshop | Leather Pants: Topshop | Leather ankle boots: H&M

Maybe it's because I've seen some classmates back in college who were automatically given a 0.0 in their term grades after being proven to have plagiarized even just a paragraph in their reports that I'm a strict observer of citation. I try my best to give credits to others whenever I use parcels of their intellectual property. If there's anything that I can be proud of in all my posts here (which to be frank is not much), it's that, I try to be as original and creative as I can. Of course let's factor in mediocrity since it's slowly getting embedded in my system. Between the two evils, I'd rather be mediocre than an intellectual thief slash pretentious know-it-all slash "how on earth can you possibly jump from senseless ranter to a keen observer?" (the quoted phrase is mine this time).


Sneakers: Adidas
While shopping around Mong Kok, I couldn't anymore hold in the pain so I had to bully my Dad into buying me a pair of rubber shoes. 

I'm not the most sentimental person out there because farewells make me as sad as the next person so although I'm in my usual enthusiastic self in the company of others, I exercise restraint. I've learned long ago that we all end up disappointing someone dear to us at some point. It's inevitable. What we can do to counter it is to choose whom we'd like to invest in. Halt, stop right there! The thought I'm trying to drive at might sound familiar but it's only because there's a disclaimer in all creative and original pursuits. Often, a single thought is expanded and rewritten into different forms or wordings causing one to assert, "it's just semantics!" but always look closer as varying possibilities lie in the details. I don't want to get too technical now since I don't have enough sound arguments in this matter and I want to continue talking about me. Hahahaha!

Anyway, it's my birthday today so cut me some slack and just pretend you've read a rather amusing entry. My brain is failing me.

Title's from Wicked

In With the Old

Photos are starting to pile up in my Photo album so even though my brain is still on haywire, aggravating my already existing tendency to spout out incoherent thoughts, I'll try to be insightful.


Top: Bayo | Necklace: Aldo | Body Bag: Nine West | Shorts: Bench | Shoes: Aldo

First off, Happy New Year to everyone!!! I had a great holidays celebration spent with my relatives residing in the country and a few meet-ups with my closest friends in town so I hope you had an equally fantastic time.

Probably the reason a quality movie graces the Philippine mainstream cinema screen only once in a few years is that, the audience is not yet ready for anything that requires us to think, evaluate, and respond. No, really. It's the truth. The commercial aspect of producing a film outweighs its need of story depth. In a way it's understandable because sometimes, when our brains are too tired to function after a day of work, we want to see a film that will only make us laugh upfront and leave us feeling light-hearted. Who needs ideas that resonate, ideas that deconstruct, ideas that give birth to other ideas? This reasoning is exactly why we'll thrive endlessly on simple romantic comedies and rely on Hollywood films for more intellectual enlightening.


The Golden Rule in Criticizing: Don't criticise if you won't offer an alternative. I've no idea how movies are created but I know that in our country, their success is measured by the money they've generated, with reviews merely affecting a little percentage of the audience. Producers should make a pact. For every 4-5 hits they've produced, they should invest in a story-driven film. It's just fair, I think. Since they make money out of people who love going to the cinemas, they should in turn educate them. Give and take, remember? Last night, my Tito, brother, baby cousin, and I watched Bonifacio. It was great because it's the first film I've seen for so long that tells about the life of one of our national heroes, reminding me of what I learned in elementary. It had its flaws, of course. The tiniest of details were overlooked but I was willing to let it go.

Bonifacio reminded me of how rich our history as a nation is and at the same time frustrated me because I know more about other countries' history than ours.


Sometimes our closets are a big gift box. I was surprised to see a few stuff that I've long forgotten such as this green top. I wore it once in my frosh year in college and before that, during my retreat in HS. I didn't grow, did you notice?

And Yet Don’t Look Too Good Nor Talk Too Wise

Just like how the Kardashians are successful in creating their image as a gigantic brand owing to their special talent which is... which is uhm... oh right, vanity (I can watch them endlessly though!), Christopher Nolan is a brand all on himself. He has distinguished himself for telling stories through movies that continuously aim to expand the viewer's area of knowledge. I like him because his respect for the audience is visible in the quality of his films. The fact that he assumes that the audience is intelligent enough to understand the complex machinations of the mind is a clear indication of how he regards us, mere mortals. I watched Interstellar with my brothers 2 weeks ago. I'm not sure if I completely understood all the scenes but it makes me excited in what the distant future has in store for this planet. The overused time traveling plot my favorite movies have employed has finally been awarded a background that's close to being explained in pure scientific words. I wouldn't even elucidate what I believed was the film's universal message for fear of incorrectly overlooking more valuable scenes in favor of the parts that appealed to my humble understanding more. I got even more invested in the film the moment Professor Brand bid the astronauts adieu with Dylan Thomas' Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night. It's good to meet a poem our HS teachers made us interpret in a set-up that's fitting of what the villanelle was originally intended for - to encourage someone who's facing an inevitable death to not easily succumb to it. The moment Brand used the poem as his goodbye, it had been a telltale sign that the mission wasn't meant for a return. Clever use of literature, right? Nolan, my friends.


I logged in my defunct Twitter account just to look for these tweets. (Who am I kidding? I logged into my account that day because I did the most evil act I can ever do. Don't make me mad, else, I'll tweet about you but I won't tag you. I'm wicked. Mwahahahaha seriously, Twitter makes me laugh)



Black top: Zara (thanks S!) | Shorts: Topshop | Wool wrap: from Australia (thanks Lala!) | Shoes: Zara | Ring: Aldo
I had a long day going in and out of malls as early as 10am and lasting through the night where I had celebratory drinks until just an hour shy away from Cinderella's curfew so comfort played a huge key. Of course I couldn't stop myself from wearing this heavy winter hoodie which my Lala gave me years ago but only remembered now because wearing 100% comfortable clothes is not a good thing as well. Hahahaha.


Last Saturday was an extremely busy yet memorable day for me. I ran around Makati malls trying to fix what I can fix for the Pacquiao fight as ordered by my Dad while squeezing in quality time in the form of a fast yet satisfying lunch in Apartment 1B in Rockwell with my college favorites Lina and Tin. (Kristina, I miss you!!! You have no idea how much sense you put into my scattered brain. Don't be a stranger!)



I've been collecting stickers for the Starbucks planner for a good one week already so I had to drag her there and sat down for a gratifying discussion. When my break was over, I went back to fulfilling the rest of the day's requirements.

Come 4PM, not a minute early nor a minute late, I met up with my best friend in Rockwell. See, in our friendship, there's this special bond that can never be cut all because it's entangled around another person who for almost a year, refused to have any contact with either of us. It could've been an easy break but how do two girls cut ties with a person who has made an impression on them despite only being with them for 4 days? That's rare and in this case, we wanted (desperately, unrelentingly) to believe it's because we're meant to be friends with that person for a really long time. Ha!


As we were capping off the night with the usual drinks in Taft, the unexpected happened. Perhaps we're a little inebriated or the Christmas season is kicking in that we finally mustered the guts to reach out to the person whom we feel emotionally albeit abnormally attached to. We waited for an hour before the person responded to our incessant messages which led to another round of drinks we referred to as the celebratory bucket. Hurrah! We're almost back together! We waited for a year to receive the person's forgiveness, dissected what happened and discussed hypothetically various scenarios, and finally got the permission to call the person on the person's phone. That's victory for us! (Notice how messily I veered away from the use of pronouns? Haha)

To sober up before we separated, we walked along Taft all the way to Starbucks. I've completed the 18 stickers!


I used a line from Rudyard Kipling's IF as guide on how to attack this post. How did I do? (wink wink)

Whiny Little Brat

I miss my pathetic whiny self who used to blog way back in 2009 about things that don't go my way, people who annoy me, and how materialistic a High Schooler I was. Fast forward to 2014 and nothing really has changed. Perhaps except that, I now know how to sugarcoat things. Haha!


Polka-dotted top: from Korea | Skirt: Mango | Glasses : People Are People| Shoes: Aldo | Ring: Aldo | Bracelets: from Bangkok

These days, my dad is putting responsibilities on my shoulder by assigning tasks that would (hopefully) help his company as it meets the demands of the projects for November. I'm particularly designated in the Pacquiao fight department, which I am enthusiastic for since there's hardly any marketing effort needed to sell his pay-per-view right aside from being contacted to set up satellite dishes for. He's Pacquiao; and to every Filipino, myself included, he's a hero. As soon as the 2nd week of November set in, everyone in the company devoted the bulk of its brain and labor to the boxing champ's fight. I had to call tens of cinema managers all over Luzon to secure passes. It was tiring but I couldn't help but feel very excited!



I'm petulantly stopping myself from spouting out my fangirl screams over Pacquiao's overwhelming win against Algieri yesterday because I cannot articulate my happiness into precise words without shrieking aloud. Algieri, on one hand, impressed me not so much for his boxing style although his endurance to have lasted for 12 rounds was laudable but because of how much of a gentleman he's been in accepting his defeat. (I'm not discounting that his academic accomplishments wowed me more initially). All in all, the fight served its purpose in establishing that Manny's on his way back to the top after his defeat from Marquez in 2012.

For having put the Philippines on the map, there has to be some percentage of immunity bestowed on Pacquiao. The principle covers his tax issues. Perhaps I'm misinformed or my knowledge, as usual, is limited (it still baffles me how I've gotten a really good grade in my Income Taxation class to be honest) but he has to be awarded a leeway.



Unlike the satellite dishes my Dad occasionally installs at home whenever there's a big international sports event that we want to tune into, this time's satellite is as small as a wee baby. Boo. My closet is shrinking, I noticed, that's why I have no choice but to constantly re-use my clothes. To somehow offer the illusion of a dress, I picked my top and skirt in the same print. Oh the problems of a penniless girl. Woe is me! Hahahahaha.

Coffee Date

I'm in a desperate position at the moment so even though I'm still sporting my long hair in the first photoset and the outfit is only an incidental accessory, not the focal point of the story, just let it slide and chalk it up to my laziness to take more recent photos. 

Toby's Estate (Century City Mall)

Dress: Giordano | Cropped army-print top used as jacket: from Bangkok | Sandals: Celine

I love meeting friends over a cup of tea, though the word 'tea' has different connotations depending on who I'm sharing it with. (With my HS friends, it's never been just the comforting kind.) I rarely drink coffee so to me, tea is my cup of tea. But there were a few instances that I had to pick coffee over my all-time favorite because we purposefully sought out certain coffee shops to sample their trendy handcrafted beverages. The list of the coffee places we'd like to try is HERE. 

Matgalne Korean Restaurante (Kalayaan Ave., Makati)

Up to this day, it still amazes me whenever Lina and I wear clothes in the same hue. We've never discussed what we'll wear beforehand so it's fascinating when we find ourselves facing each other with the same "we're matchy matchy today!" expression. Of course, things got funnier when her boyfriend Julian showed up in the same green and white combo. Should I say that we're just a bunch of kids who pay their respects to their beloved Alma Mater by wearing its official colors? Haha! 

Months later, we met up again for a quick break from our daily engagements. This time, we checked in in Intercontinental Hotel. 

Swimsuit: Dorothy Perkins | Sweater: Ralph Lauren | Shorts: Zara | Bag: Juicy Couture

For dinner, we met up with Debs in Commune Cafe which is another coffee shop in the list. 

Having read plenty of courtroom novels, there's one thing that I came to realize. The law provides rules to ensure that the citizens would live only within the structure. Once someone goes astray, there will be consequences equivalent to the weight of the action. What the law doesn't state but implies is that, most of the time, it equivocates in favor of the argument that best tugs at the emotional level. Let's call this emotional loophole. A person who's being tried for murder can get away with it if the lawyers are cunning enough to design a strategy that will appeal to the judge or the jury's emotions. (Yes, I'm referencing to a sensational case.) It really pays to be manipulative, isn't? It makes me think that a case's success lies not on the evidences but on how crafty the lawyer is, may it be the prosecutor or the DA. A person whose IQ is only average shouldn't be allowed to enter the law school, right?

We all live in a world where butterflies exist and flowers bloom while elsewhere, there lies a body that's been robbed off of its breath just seconds ago. I'm not being morbid. I'm plainly stating facts. Picoult succinctly explained why there are deviations in the society. "There couldn't be a bad guy unless there was a good guy to create the standard. And there couldn't be a good guy until a bad guy showed just how far off the path he might stray."

My very very very close friend Lina, who's currently in her first year in law school, is among my few friends who tolerate me when I start inquiring about murder cases and for added awesomeness, she gives sound opinions and corrections. See, one moment I would endlessly search about gory cases and the next I would obsess on what mundane article of clothing to buy next. Hahaha.

Thanks for the photos, Lins!

No Shit, Sherlock

If I were to collate a dictionary containing words that I've encountered for the first time as I read a novel, the thickest of which would have to be that of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes. I have absolutely high praises for the character of the famous detective. Partly because he is exceptionally observant, proving that not even the tiniest of details could escape a mind that's capable of comprehension beyond what average minds can do, but mostly because his adventures are recounted in short stories, which is exactly perfect for night-readers like myself. 

Dress: from Bangkok, Thailand | Shoes: People Are People | Ring: Aldo | Belt: Giordano

I figured my posts won't publish themselves on their own so much as I'm enjoying indulging my ever lazy bum, I'm forcing myself to spew out my usual psychobabbles here to keep the blog running. Anyway, a few weeks ago, here's the fate that has befallen my trusty laptop's charger. (A vital factor for my absence here) I could've easily bought a replacement in the mall but I opted to prolong my agony just because. The nonsensical sometimes makes sense to me. (No shit?)

Maybe I can count off on my fingers the number of series I've watched completely in my entire life. I can't condition myself to patiently await an episode after another in-which the flow is of utmost importance. For this reason, I absolutely love BBC's Sherlock. One of my favorite stories is translated into modern times, with episodes written to accommodate multiple chapters from the different Sherlock Holmes novels, and the characters played by equally compelling actors. (Benedict Cumberbatch, anyone?) The tip of the ice berg is its three episodes per series production with at least two year interval in-between the series. Perfect for someone whose regards to time is normally suspended.




As has been pointed numerous times,  BBC's Sherlock's writers Gatiss and Mofat are very praiseworthy for successfully adapting the novel into a TV show. The essence of the books, at least to my easily impressed eyes, which partly I believe is all about the power of words to drown its readers in its depth and partly to mesmerize through it's pre-, during, post- death accounts, was perfectly captured. Cumberbatch' Sherlock is just as calculative, sharp, and psychotic as described and retold in the novels. The writers were successful in preserving the books' scholarly lines and sarcastic albeit funny remarks without sacrificing easy comprehension. I'm not going to lie, the author's choice of words in the books sent me reaching for a dictionary, even dominating my phone's photo album because for every word that I don't understand, I screen-cap it for later's light-bulb moment.



from Iconic Fictional Characters

You have to admit, Irene Adler got it right when she said that smart is the new sexy.



Finally, let me wrap this post up with my photo. My photos are in no way related to Sherlock Holmes, I'm aware but let them be. They were taken a month ago. I'll leave this for now and the promise that the next post would be more coherent and quite possibly better in all aspects. Haha!