The Micro-Blood Moon
A long partial lunar eclipse, dubbed a “blood micromoon” will be fully visible from Aotearoa on Friday night, with things kicking off after 8pm. The last time a similar partial eclipse occurred in New Zealand skies was nearly 800 years ago
Saturday night
Streaming is so pervasive, that sometimes I don’t finish what I’m watching and end up doing something mundane instead like laundry, a bit of work, cleaning the bathroom or planning meals. And then I realise that none of that is mundane- but stuck in bed binging on Netflix is. I feel that if I settle in, I’ll be trapped. It’s like cocaine for the eyes.
There’s a shit load of new movies and I’m not sure I’ll end up watching all of them, but here’s my list both current and upcoming:
Anything with Akwafina!
Anything with Halle Barry!
Anything with Dev Patel!
Hated the book, loved the series
If you want to know how a waking nightmare feels like, or how you want to slide your tender thumb across a sharp Japanese knife, watch this
ANYTHING WITH SANDY!
Friday's pancakes
Growing up, we called them ‘hotcakes’ of course, not pancakes. And my dad made them from scratch way before mixes were available.
It was a whole suite of American foods in his cooking repertoire way before McDonald’s or processed supermarket versions; French toast, spaghetti for dinner (and not because it was your birthday), hamburgers, and steak and fries.
Today, I wouldn’t even attempt to make pancakes from scratch only because it’s way cheaper buying a mix.
I remember making and serving once as they have always been pictured on the ads- a full-stack, like plates, and I nearly died trying to eat them all (don’t know why I even tried). Don’t be fooled by this stack- this served three people- and the size is about smaller than a saucer!
We always serve them with bacon, and if I was in the Philippines, I would have a plateful of ‘saba’ bananas on the side as well.
What are you reading? Dune by Frank Herbert
I make stories up a lot which I think of as being part and parcel of being a writer. But then I haven’t published anything; spent the last 20 years of my career being more of a graphic-designer-project manager type where copy was only a small part; and some have actually called me out that this story-telling is actually lying. Well.
Anyhow…I always claimed that I had read Dune. And I have read so many books that some I have actually forgotten until I’ve come across them again, and the 1st page is immediately familiar. And I have come across multiple copies of Dune when I was younger so in my mind, the probability was high that I had read it. The new movie version by the gifted Denis Villeneuve prompted me to try and re-read the book again so I bought a Kindle copy.
After the first page I was shocked to discover, that no, I actually have not read the book. None of it was familiar, even as I was equally shocked at how easy Frank Herbert’s prose is. In my mind, even the false memory of having read it, had within it, a false memory of what his prose was like.
Golden ticket?
Shoulder-day
When you eat or have sex or buy a pair of new shoes, the pleasure is immediate; it’s a shame that when you exercise, it’s not. You have to wait afterwards, and only if you’ve done it right.
I never liked exercise, but it’s all a matter of conditioning your mind. There are days when I give in, but that’s rare now and are usually the days when I need to rest anyway and recover.
I don’t have a six-pack yet, or a 25-inch bicep (that would make me look way asymmetrical so NO), or big legs (I’m short at 5’8 and I don’t want to look like I came from a farming family- and not the one who owns the hacienda- not that there’s anything wrong with that 😅), but I actually feel good, and that’s all you’d ever need.
Monday and the idiocy of not driving
I missed the chance last week to drive either with Mary or Sam to pick up my meds on the way to the supermarket, and the pharmacy was closed on a Sunday. So on a super hectic Monday- with back to back to back to back soul-sucking Microsoft Teams meetings, I had to go on an Uber before lunch to pick them up.
Took nearly 40 minutes round-trip- on what looked like a normal pre-Covid-lockdown Monday- and $32 dollars.
But thank the Lord for little blessings like my boss finishing one approval meeting in under 12 minutes leaving me to pretend that I was busy for the next 45.
So I had time to make my current favourite way to cook noodles for a late lunch, as if it was ramen (this is Nasi Goreng) which is leave a little liquid on what is actually a dry sort of noodle, and to swirl in a dollop of butter. For protein, I topped it with a pan-fried salmon piece.
It was very satisfying and just enough to make me slightly forget I could have used that $32 Uber fare for salmon at just under a kilo.
Sunday baking
Bar of chocolate + jam + pastry
KFC Saturday & Aneesha finds a weapon that could kill the aliens
We finally gave in.
Too blah to cook. I had to wake up early to recreate the goddamned corrupted 3D file which was easier the 2nd time around because now I knew where all the elements went in. And I used objects in actual scale which didn’t make any difference as I belived it would, but shaved off heaps of time in scaling them down to size.
But the program did become noticeably slower as I added more and more objects into the 3D space and I was thinking, if I only had the new MacBook Pro with the M1 Max chip, mmmmm ($6,054!).
So it’s episode 6 already in Apple TV + Invasion and the slowness - while it’s done really well mostly- is making me ask a lot of questions with no answers in sight. Like what happened to Sam Neil’s retired sheriff character way back in episode one?? Is he dead or not? If you remember, he was digging around the strange crop circle in a farmer’s field when the aliens somehow ‘stabbed’ him with something. The last shot is of him somewhat looking either stunned or dramatically dead with his eyes open. But judging by how a slew of soldier’s bodies were shown mangled and mutilated in episode 6, there’s still hope that Sam was merely temporarily incapacitated. But it’s strange that it’s this far into the series and that story arc has been totally abandoned.
Going back to Aneesha, she manages to go back to the house and arrives to find it barricaded against something. Her family and the couple who took their family in Patrick and Kelly, are hiding in the attic and this is expectedly where the friendly, sympathetic atmosphere evaporates as everyone panics.
Aneesha declares that they were leaving, and this is where everything goes south; the daughter falls through the attic floor and Aneesha follows to rescue her. The noise alerts the alien, and we see for the 1st time what it looks like- a sort of octopus with tentacles and bristling, camouflage-like skin. Kelly falls through the same underlay flooring, but manages to hold on- but the alien gets her as Patrick desperately tries to hoist his wife up.
Aneesha and Ahmed make it downstairs but Ahmed is attacked while trying to move the furniture they used to barricade the door. Aneesha and the kids escape through a window in the basement and try to make a run for it using Patrick and Kelly’s car. But the alien rams itself through the windshield and takes its time to eat/kill/spit at Aneesha with its multi-layered mouth. Aneesha shoots it (no use), then rams a stick-thingy into its mouth (no use), then throws what looks like a phone-book at it (no use), before finding the weird, stone-age like spear flint that Luke had found and stabs the thing with it- success!
My theory is that while conventional weapons can’t kill it, material from their world can- like the way Kryptonite affects Superman. Because why would it be a special kind of weapon?? It doesn’t look like one and was most likely a shard of something that crashed/exploded when the Malik’s neighbourhood was attacked in episode 2.
The philandering Ahmed survives the attack after all and limps out of the house. Aneesha is relieved to see him, but had he not survived, she would have moved on, but I guess when everyone you know is dying around you, it’s probably comforting to have familiar people around. At this point, whatever they’ve done to you pales in comparison to the life and death struggle you all face.
Ugh
Friday should be a day of celebration, because it’s the end of (another hard) working week; but then life just continues to be the suck-fest that it has been since 2020. Like one of my favourite singers of all time, Carrie Underwood is a vaccination card non-carrier because she’s not only anti-vax, but also anti-mask, and most likely voted for Trump. They’re all the same really that fun bunch.
And to cap off a long work day- even if I get off at 2pm- the 3D file I had been working on for the last three days suddenly won’t open and I may have to redo the whole goddamned thing again.
FUCK YOUR STUPID EXPENSIVE PRODUCTS THAT WON’T WORK PROPERLY ADOBE!
It is what it is...
It's not embutido or a meatloaf
You didn't use pork-mince. There’s no eggs, raisins, carrots, Vienna sausage or a boiled egg in it. So it’s not embutido, not really. And the classic meatloaf uses ground beef and bread crumbs.
But it’s using the same principles of some ground protein and seasonings and is either cooked in a bain-marie or baked in the oven. It’s wrapped like an embutido too, and like meatloaf, there’s going to be a gravy sauce for it, probably a butter-based mustard sauce.
Because what do you do with 20 packs of chicken breasts in the deep freeze? We bought them in bulk at Gilmours and much as I want to make Korean fried-chicken every other day, I can’t. On one hand, prepared chicken mince at the supermarket for 500 grams is like $8. The Gilmours bulk buy turned out to be something like 800-1kg per pack at $6. So all you need is a food processor really.
For this- okay let’s call it chicken roll- I used a bunch of frozen spinach, a whole red capsicum, a large white onion and heaps of cheese which I guess acts like a binder.
Pictures of it cooked and served tomorrow.
Tuesday wish-list
Fruitcake
Lechon pork-belly ( I hope Doyet makes some for Noche Buena).
Getting to try out the Cordis’ hotel’s new wing
Losing at least 3kgs (haven’t budged from 73kgs).
Get to finish one of the dozen of stories I’m working on
Get to finish one creative work
Re-do the side garden
Get rid of this wisdom tooth in the most painless way possible
Been wanting to make leche-flan in like forever
Massive seafood dinner
Get to finish 5 books before year’s end
Ryan's Christmas Gift Registry
I don’t care about the critics- the current government still has a good grip on a situation that could be ten times worse (and a hundred times worse in other countries). The critics could either drop dead or catch Covid; either way, FUCK YOU and you don’t know squat. Anyhoo, a weird call today- level 3.2 which allows for some businesses to open (like malls!) and others to remain closed like restaurants (boo!) and cinemas (double boo!).
So if you’re an anti-vaxxer, you can go out on Wednesday and catch yourself some Covid- that will teach you.
I’ve done all my shopping and besides, the only times I go to a store is when I’m not sure of the fit or the fabric; I buy the majority of my clothes from the same labels so I know my fit 99% of the time. But yeah, going out there is like playing Covid roulette, and for what? For a pair of goddamned pants lol. Not worth it.
And speaking of shopping, here’s a list of stuff I’d like to by for myself if money is no object; after all dreaming is free…
Sunday extremes
From a chilly 10 degree morning to a sweltering (1) 21 degrees. It was so hot that doing chores felt like swimming through water. This is why I can never live in the tropics again.
Saturday
I
Our barely one-year old (cheapish) washing machine broke. I had to hand-wash clothes in the old tub and had the vague feeling that the detergent was not meant for such a process. But I don’t live in a country where washing-machines are as common as TV sets and where I can go into a supermarket to buy special detergent meant for soaking and manual washing. I didn’t dawdle long- you just focus on two areas, the arm-pits and the crotch. Not that there’s anything nasty there. I change my clothes and underwear everyday still and I hardly sweat. The water was freezing and I discovered that while I can lift 30kg dumbbells I hardly had the strength to squeeze water out of the clothes.
My hands looked plump and bloated after, and I remember the hands of our old lavenderas back in Pangasinan, how worn and red they were. And the loads they did good Lord - denim, blankets and towels. And by the time the clothes were dry as they often did quicker in the tropics, it was mid-afternoon and the lavandera would be folding and sorting the clothes. I remember getting breads and sweets and Coke at the store, and we would eat and exchange gossip as we waited for my mother to arrive so they could be paid. I miss those days; no washing machine can surpass human hands.
II
We set up the Christmas tree today. Two years ago, we bought a cheaper one at Kmart, and it was black pine which we thought was chic. But part of me wasn’t convinced because I could see through its paltry 600 plus tips and it really bothered me. So last year I bit the bullet and bought a 3,000 tip, $700 (we got it 50% off so paid only $350) tree and I was finally satisfied. Christmas is one of the last things where you cut corners and compromised, which is kinda stupid because after the 25th has come and gone, it dawns on you that sentiment really has nothing to do with logic and reality. But I realised that this feeling is universal. Aucklanders- or so the media claims- are about to revolt that Christmas this year was going to be cancelled; and mistakenly by the government, and not by a virus that is lurking in all corners of the city. But from what I have seen, there is really nothing special about the way Kiwis celebrate Christmas- the food is crap, the gifts have a $20 cap and everyone gets drunk and pissed by Boxing Day. But habit and sentiment is all part of the tradition, isn’t it? Anyhow, I’m ready and prepared- 99% of all gifts have been bought and sorted, and an emergency menu has been worked out.
A broken washing machine and Covid are not the end of the world; but an ugly Christmas tree can be super annoying.
Even Fridays can be exhausting
Because that’s life.
It rains when it shouldn't.
You get a spot of sunshine for your run and it’s too humid that when you get home, you fall into a fitful nap.
You have a fitful dream you can’t remember when you wake up, but leaves you too tired to do anything but scroll through stupid TikTok vids.
Work is relentless and you can’t help but be relentless (even when you’re on leave) because you’re super fucking competitive and the winner has to be you.
Everyone decides to jump the government just because it had a bad week, half of which is not even its fault and you feel like wishing these useless people to just drop dead but you can’t because you’re being Twitter good, even if that and all the Facebook/Instagram policing will not change the fact that people are nasty (like you are when you choose to).
You can’t get fireworks even if it's Guy Fawke’s Day because the regulations get tighter and tighter and I just don’t get it. You want to allow marijuana use but ban fireworks?
When you're feeling good, you want to shop
I’ve completed a week’s worth of ‘brisk’ walking, just under 2kms and 12 minutes.
Normally, I would think of a million excuses, but lately, in this pandemic, when it seems that you have all the time in the world, you get a sense that it’s a lie. You do it now, or it’s all lost, simple as that. Sometimes I feel great after and sometimes, it’s the same. But I guess, that’s what you call an investment; the cumulative rewards are in the end. Or so you hope.
But then, what else is there to do? It’s definitely more positive that agonising over Christmas; that you’re aching to watch Dune at the movies; that a restaurant meal would be nice; or go on a bus ride at 4pm; or sauntering into the supermarket. But it’s not your job to be angry at the bigger picture of why you can’t do these things. Leave that to the stupid politicians (FUCK YOU Judith Collins, FUCK YOU David Seymour) because that’s what they’re paid for.
Your job is you, and it’s not an easy one.
But thank God for small victories- studies have shown that exercise no matter how small, makes a difference- and I thought, hmmm, maybe I will reward myself.
But no I didn’t- this is just online window shopping- but who knows? You’re investing in yourself remember and that shouldn’t be a wasted purchase.
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What are you reading? The Last House on Needless Street
“That is when it happened. A soft white glow gathered on his chest, over the place where his heart must be. The glow became a cord, reaching out through the air. The cord approached me. I rowed and struggled. But I was held fast. I felt the light encircle my neck, link me to his heart. It didn’t hurt. It bound us together. I don’t know if he felt it too – I like to think he did. Then he brought me home to this nice warm house where I can sleep all the time and get stroked. I don’t even have to look at the outside world if I don’t want to! The windows are all boarded up. Ted made me an indoor cat and I’ve never had to worry about anything since. This is our house which is just for us, and no one else is allowed in. Apart from Night-time, of course, and the green boys and Lauren. I could do without some of them, to be honest. I”
― Catriona Ward, The Last House on Needless Street