Hazel Ceej

The Big Chili continues to behave like an oven. As I type this, I am chatting on the phone with a friend who is speeding on an Arabian expressway. She reports it's pouring around Abu Dhabi. I tell her I'm going island-hopping. In my dream, that is. For now I am grateful for faves of the week:: Life-saving AC. S ince walking around in rising temps this invention has become my best friend. And as for the board room thingy with an amusing laptop reflection that's bluer than the blue above it, that's where I was officially informed about  Remuneration . I thought it went with the normal salary but it seems the university is happy to pay researchers extra. Imagination . It does help when there is something to look forward to. Tax sorted . A colleague fixed a little problem in it for me. Until next year Mr Tax . For now I'm celebrating with some   Cold Stone delight . A yummy antidote to the notorious Bangkok heat. I may stil

I love touring and sightseeing. I don't hesitate to visit an interesting place twice if there's a chance. But I am not visiting this place again even if you paid me to do it. Cheong Ek Genocidal Center in a distance After many whispers of wows at the splendor of Angkor Wat in Siem Reap, my companions and I proceeded to Phnom Pehn. I was kicking to finally see the Killing Fields. "This is it," I mused as my 12-year old self: "those rows of 'cabbages' (skulls) in a documentary with John Lennon singing Imagine , now the Killing Fields for real." We then started exploring. At first I thought this was an old pigsty. What we saw were...     bones And that was when we fell silent - especially when we realized that much of the ground is still strewn with clothes of victims.  more clothes 'Truck Stop:' "place where trucks transporting victims to be exterminated from Toul Sleng Prison, stopped." Tru

It's been hot hot hot in the Big Chili this week. Where I would have preferred cool breezy nights with a beaming moon, we were dealing with a raging sun. But joys and faves here we go: Spontaneous outing with family . We had fun browsing bottle art and learning which country the wines come from.   A better-idea sky.  I stare at it and think why not invite a friend to go on a Halong Bay cruise with me instead? It will turn the disappointment over changes on my trip to Vietnam into something I will surely enjoy. Spending time with winged friends in the park. Kicking off the routine high heels, wearing jeans and walking barefoot on the grass were just as great. St. Patrick's Day. I'm no Irish but why the Saint Patrick's mode? And I muse, why not? At least I once dated an Irish guy. I remember being fascinated when I witnessed glimpses of the famous Irish temper in him - stuff I only read about in books before I met him. That was something like a l

A lovely week my friends! I give you sunrise from the world's largest religious monument - Angkor Wat and a quiet spot from the chili patches Some days this week were bittersweet. But I'm loving the joys and faves: This goodbye is not forever . Someone dear to me is away for a couple of days. On call for an important politician, he does not know when is he returning to base. Communication to the outside is quite restricted. Then out of the blue he sent word saying he was making use of what internet access was allowed 'along palace perimeter...' and then he was gone. But I'm glad he tried to reach me. Monuments Men . Those art pieces! They took my breath away. The Valley is a friend's short story which he asked me to edit for an alumni newsletter. I was hesitant; warned him I might unwittingly ruin it. My mind went back to that article I wrote 19 years ago. It was too late when I realized how unnecessarily sentimental it sounded; it was already

Someone says good memories are for bad times; not that I'm having one. It feels good to express gratitude.  I look over my week and notice that I put in effort to turn yesterday's emotional glitch around. The attempt was successful. I am happy. So on to this life-enhancing exercise of sharing joys and faves: attending an art exhibit whose artist I have personally met from a fundraiser for Haiyan victims last year a friend I haven't seen in 25 years who now lives in the UAE rang and we chatted for two hours Pompeii and Robocop someone tells me I am her inspiration. Whatever she meant I thought knowing that was inspiring as well memories! I woke up one fine morning this week and reminisced: this spot in a splash resort, so appealing to the country girl in me  (Del Rio, June 2012) exploring a lake with young nephews and nieces (Sebu, 1 January 2014) finding myself in a lovely tea room free to dream as much as I want (Cassia Cafe and Tea Room, 2

Ever experienced being disoriented while traveling? It was not jet lag in my case. Fourteen hours on a Bangkok - London flight with additional whirl changing air crafts in the UAE, and I was strolling around Scarborough Castle early the next day. So the culprit was very likely the stress around my mutilated passport. A few minutes before deplaning in Manila, I learned that our pilot was a lady. I whispered wow as I recalled how the plane felt as if it was gliding playfully on its side through a forest like a merry fairy shortly after take off. And that takes me back to a sweet dilemma: PhD or learn to fly? So as I waited for my cocktail during this year's Valentine al fresco dinner with single friends, I fancied engaging both, but one at a time. Then the server came with my drink miffing me out of doctoral and helicopter reverie to a vision in sea green! You see I deliberately ordered Blue Hawaii for Sally, and what did I get? Ah well, at least the glas

There's something about going up in the air. Some kind of high. I may have felt homesick watching the buildings grow smaller as the plane zoomed into space, but it's cool joy to welcome the normality of getting back to work. Thursday my passport was sorted. Suddenly I didn't want to think of Bangkok. I packed wondering when I can come back home. But then it's wonderful to see the end of this stress so of course this one tops my faves for the week. There was one final thing I did before dealing with airports and immigration. I went to see my old man. Back in 2005 I defied sorrow that only death could pull off by glaring at it in my mind dry-eyed throughout the burial ceremony. How dare you snatch my father, you massive coronary!  Fast forward to 2014. Holy Garden Matutum Memorial Park was breezy when we walked in. The kiddo insisted that his Tigger relaxed beside my anthuriums. It gets easier each year. Time does heal.     Less than thirty-six hours