Loving Frank

In another life, I think I would have been an architect. In fact, that was the first thing I wanted to be when I was young. But I thought, with my utter inability to draw, that I couldn't be one. So I took another path.

As an adult, my appreciation of architecture continued to grow. And although I still can't tell a Doric column from a Corinthian one, I know a Frank Lloyd Wright building when I see one.

I don't remember when I first learned of Wright, but I remember clearly how I felt the first time I saw the Guggenheim Musuem in New York. Walking its spiral ramp, seeing artwork in that light, I thought, the man was indeed a genius.


Through books and pictures, I saw more of the man's work. A few years back, I visited my first Wright house, the Robie House, in Chicago.

Next month, I'm going to Taliesin. Wright built this dream house for his long-time lover, Mamah Cheney. While this was the place where the two of them could live in peace (they were both married to other people), it too was the site of their love's tragic end. Mamah died in Taliesin, as one of the victims of a fire set by a deranged servant. Today, it's the home of the Wright Foundation.


Do you love Frank? Re-imagine his love affair with Mamah in the historical novel "Loving Frank" by Nancy Horan.

Rocking Thanksgiving Vegas style!

Off to Vegas today. I've got 8 hours of driving ahead of me. Yey.

I've been to Vegas countless times, but I still haven't run out of things to do. On the menu for this trip: a hike in Red Rock Canyon, a Cirque de Soliel show, Black Friday shopping at the Premium Outlets (or an attempt at it). Also, meeting up with friends old and new.

On the menu food-wise: some decent pho, Thanksgiving dinner at the Hard Rock Hotel's AGO, maybe some Jollibee or halo-halo from Chowking.

May you all have a blessed Thanksgiving, wherever you are.

He sings too?

Loading up on songs for an 8-hour drive. This one's catchy enough. But someone tell me why Kanye is now singing?

Fundraising season

The other day, I received in the mail a fundraising letter from my godson, Darren. Something to do with raising money to buy computers for school (that's the L.A. Unified School District for you). Instead of selling cookies or other knickknacks (so far, I've purchased gift wrapping paper, Christmas cards, chocolate covered raisins and pretzels from neighborhood kids for various school fundraisers), my godson is selling magazine subscriptions. He gets a credit for each subscription that he sells. As an incentive, if I buy two subscriptions, he gets a glow-in-the-dark Scooby Doo t-shirt as well.

The list of available magazines is long, and the prices a little elevated. And since I already have subscriptions for the ones I really want (Budget Travel, Domino, Real Simple), I can perhaps indulge in others that I'm just sorta interested in.

I was looking at Architectural Digest as my top contender. The mag is an established one, well respected, and for some, the bible on interior design and style. Remember when AD was doing a feature on Charlotte's Upper East Side apartment in Sex and the City?

While perusing some articles online, I saw that November's issue has a feature on writers and their homes. See if you think the author's writing style matches up with their taste in interior design.

Rudyard Kipling's (The Jungle Book) study in England exudes old world country charm. Seems like a cozy spot to curl up with one of his many books, though those chairs could get uncomfortable after a while.

My least favorite space of the lot is Terry McMillan's (Waiting to Exhale) house in NoCal. Something very bar-like about it. And I hate all the chairs.

The quintessential New York apartment of Neil Simon (Lost in Yonkers). Clean, contemporary, with a gallery-like quality.

Michail Crichton's (Jurassic Park) 100-year-old house in New Jersey. Love the mid-century modern touch. I'll take those Eames chairs any day, but it seems every one and their mother has a Noguchi table these days, so I'll pass on that.

Not quite The House of the Spirits, but Isabelle Allende's Bay Area home looks like Allende to me.

So order no. 1 looks like Architectural Digest. What else should I get?

Photos: ArchitecturalDigest.com

My Monterey Guide

Welcome to Monterey.

Four months ago, V, Briscoe and I moved to this town on the central California coast. Located 115 miles south of San Francisco and 350 miles north of Los Angeles, Monterey offers an excellent quality of life and unparalleled beauty, or so says the City of Monterey web site. For the next 18 months, we are here to find out.

Monterey served as the first capital of California from 1777 to 1849. After the Mexican-American war broke out, it was here that Commodore John Sloat raised the American flag claiming California for the United States in 1846. Here too was where the first constitution of the state was drafted.

The Custom House, where Sloat first raised the American flag in July 1846. This is the oldest building in California, and the state's Historic Building No. 1.

Monterey is also known for Cannery Row, an area made famous by the John Steinbeck novel of the same name. Commercialized fishing in Monterey Bay started as early as 1853 when Chinese immigrants began exporting fresh and dried fish to nearby San Francisco. In 1895, the first cannery was opened, packing salmon at first, then sardines, which was plentiful at the time. Canneries opened, one after the other, and by 1945, the canneries of Monterey was a $22 million industry.

But the booming industry suddenly declined, blamed largely on overfishing. With the fish gone, production plummeted. The last sardines were canned in 1964.

Today, Cannery Row has been revitalized to house restaurants and shops. Others would say it's a tourist trap. But those who look closely will find the vestiges of old Ocean View Ave. underneath the souvenier shops.


Ocean View Avenue, where most of the canneries were located, officially became known as Cannery Row in 1958, 13 years after Steinbeck's book was published.

There's more to explore in Monterey. Join us in getting to know this other city (okay, town) by the bay.

I don't know about you...

... but I thought Twilight sucked. Am I missing something here?

I have not read the book, though I have it. As soon as I get over my disappointment over the film, I might go ahead and read the book to see what all the fuss was about. Because frankly, the film version did not deliver.

Overall, I found the movie to be painfully slow moving, taking forever to set up the relationship between Bella and Edward, but falling way short of evoking the sense of deep connection between the two. Are we to take the many long, awkward looks between the two as the sign that their very souls were connecting? For all their tree-climbing and baseball-playing, Bella and Edward did not seem like the star-crossed lovers in their portrayal. Mina and the Count successfully displayed a much more authentic connection in Bram Stoker's Dracula, and did so with less screen time.

It did not help that Kristen Stewart, who played Bella, seemed incapable of any facial expression other than the scowl she had on. She literally looked like she was in varying levels of pain the whole time.

Did anyone else find the Cullens' almost ridiculous level of paleness distracting? You don't even have to look too closely to see the layers of white foundation heaped on the actors' faces, especially Peter Facinelli, who played the family's patriarch.

To me, the real appeal of any vampire flick lies in its particular take on the vampire mythology. Where do they come from? What can they do? How can you fight them? In Twilight, we got little by way of the Cullens' backstory. There was a mention of an interesting history with the Quileute people, who supposedly descended from wolves. But it stops there.

Worse, these vampires seem impotent, even ordinary, shredding any ounce of vampire mystique that the film might have had going for it.

Any good film adaptation of a book needs, at the very least, to be able to stand on it own, to be able to tell its own story. Viewers shouldn't have had to read the book to understand the nuances of the characters, nor the intricacies of their story.

Overall, Twilight left me feeling unsatisfied, with a sneaking suspicion that perhaps there was something else there that simply ended up on the cutting room floor. But to blame the film's weaknesses on the harsh reality of filmmaking also does not suffice. The movie could have been a fresh re-telling of the age old story of ill-fated love. It could have been our introduction to a modern day vampire, a contemporary Dracula, dashing and young. But it was neither. Instead, Twilight is a sappy love story told at a turtle's pace resulting in a film that is altogether unimpressive.

I'll take an episode of HBO's True Blood over this any day.

Fierce!

Say what you will, but just don't hate.

This guy is FIERCE!

As seen on today's "The View."

Reminds me of D, a guy I went to college with, who had the whole "Honey" (Mariah Carey) video down, complete with pool diving action. Hilarious!

One thing though: I think this guy can use a sandwich.

A WINK and a Smile

I write all the time. I get paid for it some times.

My most recent writing project was a feature for Big Builder Magazine on an emerging demographic of home buyers: women with income and no kids or WINKs. Read it here.

Thanks for the opportunity, Sarah!

It's vampire season

I've always been afraid of vampires. In fact, I'm convinced I saw one, standing in the middle of the street in front of our house, when I was 9. Either that or it was a very vivid dream.

I've also always liked vampire movies. And while I watch the whole world, it seems, go crazy in anticipation of the "Twilight" movie, I've been getting my vampire fix from HBO's "True Blood."

With only one episode to go in the season, I must say that the show has taken some rather crazy turns. But ridiculous as it may seem to some, TB has kept me intrigued. In fact, I might be hooked. The town of Bon Temps has some real characters, including a shape-shifting bar owner, a vampire blood addicted Lothario, and a gay cook/drug dealer/homemade porn star.

Add to that the town's resident vampire, Bill (who is hip enough to play Wii in his spare time) and his heroine Sookie (who, by the way, can read people's thoughts) and you have the makings of a show that is so wacky at times, it's hilarious. But spooky enough too to be dead serious.

More than anything, it's interesting to see what a world where vampires are out and mainstream-ing could be like. And what better place to see it all unfold than the Louisiana bayou.

Did I mention the show is being executive produced by Alan Ball, the same guy who brought us another of my favorite HBO series, "Six Feet Under?"

I now know who I'm going as for Halloween next year!

Today's prescription: a little perspective

V & I have been talking a lot lately about how unfortunate it is that we will not get to travel overseas this year. We promised ourselves a long time ago that we will take the time (and resources) to go someplace new at least once a year, before we have kids. We figured, this is the time to indulge ourselves, before kids change our priorities. 

But due to the current economic situation all over the world, we thought it prudent to put off our planned Christmas trip to Mexico. If there was ever a time to cut out unnecessary expenses and shore up savings, it's now. 

Last night, I was feeling extra bad for the fact that our trip has been cancelled. We deserve it, I thought. We don't splurge on anything else. We don't buy stuff for the sake of stuff. I went to bed thinking of the next trip we will take, promising that it will be bigger and better than the one we missed out on.

Last night, I was feeling sorry for myself. This morning, I found this. 

We truly have a lot to be grateful for. So I'll start today with "Thank you."

Amen to that Mr. Miller

Last weekend, V & I took our dog on her first camping trip to Big Sur. We are lucky enough to live within an hour's drive of what is arguably the most striking stretch of coastline in California, wedge between the Santa Lucia mountains and the Pacific. The rugged beauty of this area--its majestic Redwoods, dramatic cliffs, and thunderous surf--have inspired many over the years, including writers like Richard Brautigan, Jack Kerouac and Henry Miller. 

"It was here in Big Sur that I first learned to say 'Amen,'" Miller once wrote. "Here I will find peace. Here I shall find the strength to do the work I was made to do."

Big Sur demands several more visits, and we will be happy to oblige.  

Along Hwy 1. Bad picture but it's all I took. It was overcast that entire weekend. 

We stayed at the Big Sur Riverside Campgrounds and Cabin. Having originally booked a tent campsite, we switched to this cabin when we heard of the rain forecast that night and the next day. We didn't think it was worth the hassle of having to clean and dry out all out camping equipment for an overnight stay. 

The cabin came with a picnic table and firepit. If you're wondering about those concrete blocks in the back, they're there to keep mud out. The campground was getting ready to close for the winter season. Because of the fires in Big Sur this past summer, there apparently is threat of a kind of mud flood over the winter, when the rain starts. Since so many trees are now gone, nothing will hold the water and mud at bay. Thus the massive concrete blocks barricading the campground buildings from the river, which is close by. 

Not very pretty but the campground owners have learned from experience. Apparently, a similar situation happened a few decades ago, leaving their cabins with about 3 feet of mud inside. They wrapped the concrete blocks with plastic for additional waterproofing, I suppose.

This is the Big Sur River, which looks more like a stream now. It's about 50 feet directly in front of our cabin. This is where our dog had her first swim though I don't think she meant to jump in. Not photos of that, but the look of shock on her face was priceless. 

Big Sur is dotted with state parks and beaches, including Pfeiffer Beach. We squeezed in a visit to the beach before day light ran out.

Something kinda creepy in the sand.

V & Briscoe

Beautiful, even on a cloudy day

We spent the rest of the night around a fire, making smores with Nutella. I know now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I'm not a smores kinda girl. It was fun to try though.

Briscoe did not like the fire. Here she is staying as far away from it as she could.

Never did like that word

Spotted at the Maiden Publick House in Big Sur, CA.

Chimay: Belgian beer and cheeses made by Trappist monks. Chimay is apparently the name of the municipality where the monastery is located. 

"Here, in this heaven of peace and silence where since 1850 Trappist monks have dedicated their life to God, products are made which, in themselves, gladden the heart of man."

In Tagalog, chimay is slang for maid.

Dogs dine in style

Bent plywood cuteness for dogs. Too pricey for my taste though, at $210 for the large one.Photo: Pet-super-store.com

Great design for daily living

It's amazing how good design can elevate everyday items into things of beauty. Some items I want in my home:

Eva Zeisel's Classic Century Dinnerware Originally designed in 1952 by designer Eva Zeisel, reissued by Crate and Barrel. One word to describe this collection: graceful. I especially want the teapot, coffeepot and sauce boat. 

Bodum's Columbia sugar and cream set

I'm kind of obsessed with sugar and cream sets. Don't ask me why. This is one of my favorites. So sleek and cool. 

Pier 1 Orbit Chair

Mid-century flavor + homey wicker = cool chair

I waited too long to get these. When I finally needed them, they were gone--discontinued! Why Pier 1, why? You just discontinued the one item that gave your brand a cool cachet.

How do you gift wrap a water buffalo?

Have you started your holiday gift shopping yet? If you, then you've probably considered all the usual suspects. Perhaps a new computer for Papa from Dell, jewelry for Mama, clothes for the sibs. I've actually already purchased gifts for the in-laws online, thinking we would be delivering them over Thanksgiving. 

But lately, I've been thinking a lot about how we can live our lives more simply, more authentically. And to me, that includes trying to get away from having so much "stuff." On the flipside, it also means giving less "stuff."

Making charitable donations in someone's name as a gift is nothing new. But this year, I'm pretty sure I will do it for at least some of my Christmas presents. There's one charitable institution that has really piqued my interest. 

You know that saying "Teach a man how to fish and you've fed him for a lifetime?" Well, giving through Heifer International is one way of doing that. Instead of giving money to people who need it, the charity gives things that people need to be able to provide for themselves. Their online gift catalog includes goats, bees, flocks of ducks and geese, and trees. They go to communities all over the world where they are most needed. Like the Philippines, where you can help someone buy a water buffalo. 

This man, Fred Sarilla of Bugcaon (which I think is in Bukidnon) in the Philippines, got a cow. He says, "Before we ploughed by hand and feet, and what we produced was with our hands and carried on our heads. Now we have a cart. I ride with my wife and children and are talking with joy because we are riding." Photo: Heifer International

Do it. Now.

It's time to turn off the TV, log off the net, dial down the volume and tune out the noise. Look inside you and make your choice. Please do not forget to vote today. 

The problem with 90210

Annie, Dixon and their impossibly young looking mom

I wanted to like the CW's remake of Beverly Hills 90210. I really did. But after watching a few episodes back to back on CW.com (stupid Direct TV does not carry the channel in our area. Do I really have to hook my TV up to rabbit ears just to watch Supernatural, Smallville and Gossip Girl?! Did I just admit to watching Gossip Girl?!?), I have to say that I truly am disappointed with this one.

The show's biggest problem is that it is following in some pretty big footsteps. Who does not remember, fondly or otherwise, the adventures of Brenda and Brandon as they navigate the complicated life of a Beverly Hills teen? Admit it or not, most of us who are old enough to have watched the original series found a favorite in the Walsh kids, Kelly, Dylan, Donna, Steve and even little David. They were young and beautiful, yes, but more importantly, they were all really likable. Sure, we don't all drive red BMWs like Kelly, or have a TV star as a parent like Steve, but those characters' personalities were believable enough that we somehow were able to relate to their issues. Raise your hand if you ever said the words, "Donna Martin graduates!"

The way they were

In sharp contrast are 90210's current cast of angsty teens who come off almost like caricatures of the characters they are supposed to play. Where do I begin? How about with Naomi? As the school's apparent queen bee, she would be the modern day equivalent of Kelly Taylor. But unlike Kelly, whose bitchy facade was tempered by a kind of vulnerability, there is nothing sympathetic about Naomi. She, so far, has been all about herself. Even her supposed affection for troubled friend Adrianna rings untrue. Not to mention the fact that Annalynne McCord plays the character more like a thirty-something Hollywood trophy wife rather than a high school teenager. I mean, how are we supposed to root for Naomi and on-again-off-again boyfriend Ethan when every time they're on-screen together, she looks like she could be his mom.

Ethan and Naomi

Kansas-transplants Annie and Dixon Wilson are equally disappointing. Part of why the first 90210 was successful is because you felt for Brandon and Brenda. Most of us will never know what it's like to be a Beverly Hills insider, and as the Minnesota twins made the painful adjustment to their new life, we felt their pain. Not so with Annie and Dixon, who after only a few perfunctory scenes of awkwardness between the newcomers and the locals, seem to immediately fall right into step with the kids at Beverly Hills High. Dixon had a little tussle with the a player in the hockey team, but after a orchestrating a prank involving pigs, he's suddenly best buds with everyone, scoring a skinny girlfriend (Kelly's now teenage sister Erin) along the way. And Annie, who suffered the initial rebuff of Naomi and the cruel spotlight of Erin's blog, managed to star in the school play, become BFFs with Erin, and date two of the hottest guys in school. All in eight episodes or less. I mean, where are the growing pains? How are we to grow to like these characters when we don't see them struggle at all?

Dixon and Erin

But I think the show's biggest problem is that it's not sure what it wants to be at all. The old 90210 was clearly a teen drama, at a time when teen dramas were few and far between. Times have changed. Now the new show is just one of many that feature perfectly coiffed and fabulously dressed teens. 90210 doesn't seem certain whether it wants to be the other Gossip Girl or the next 7th Heaven. For now, it lacks the appeal of either shows and as far as this viewer is concerned, falls way short of making the DVR list (Even if I could. Do you hear me Direct TV?!).

Photos: CW.com, tv.popcrunch.com

In defense of champorado

Do you like champorado?

 

I do. In fact, I've had more of it for breakfast or merienda in the last two months than I have in the last two years. In September, I had the opportunity to shop at a real Filipino supermarket in San Diego. You know the kind, selling everything from Eskinol to walis tambo. Where I live, we have two Filipino stores, but their selection is always lacking. Anyway, I got a couple of boxes of White King Champ-O-Rado mix, and I'm steadily eating my way through them. 

My husband, who is generally open to all sorts of unfamiliar dishes, has seen me consume this chocolate porridge with gusto. And for the life of him, he cannot figure out the appeal. Especially when I break out the spicy tuyo, dab it dry with some paper towels and flake it over a steaming bowl of what must look like dark brown paste to him. 

Why do I like champarado? Like many other Filipinos, I grew up eating the stuff. My Tita Chit used to make them for us at Inay's house, served with a splash of evaporated milk, or better yet, coconut milk. It was good for serving to guests too, as I have memories of old ladies slurping it up during padasal at my lola's house. 

In college, I would sometimes go to the Tapa King that used to be (I heard it's not there anymore) located at the end of Esteban Abada, a quick walk from where I lived. They had champorado on their menu, complete with a side serving of tuyo, if I remember correctly. On a rainy day like today is when I enjoyed it most. I still have a mental image in my head of walking into that Tapa King in soaking wet shoes (Abada flooded easily), all for a dose of warm, chocolate-y comfort. 

So perhaps my attachment to champorado is an emotional one.  Like all Filipino food, it connects me to my past and brings me back to some good ol' times. But don't knock the flavor till you've tried it (maybe without the salty fried fish, at first). After all, who doesn't like chocolate? 

And yes, I had champorado again today. With Nido.

Photo: Asiamex.com